39: Uncle Wei Is Angry

When they arrived at the old residential block, both rookies started getting nervous. Though it was called a “residential block,” that was an outdated term—these kinds of buildings, where each floor was densely packed with people, were now referred to online as “honeycomb apartments.”

“Brother Wu, are we going in now?” the short-haired woman hid behind the man.

The man pointed up at the sun with a teasing tone, “We don’t have to go in now. We can always wait till the sun goes down before heading in.”

Jiang Ling and the other woman quickly shook their heads in unison.

The iron gate to the building was narrow and rusted. The three of them filed in carefully. Brother Wu groped for the light switch and pressed it—no light came on.

Short-haired woman: “Damn! The light’s broken!”

Jiang Ling silently pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight. The short-haired woman followed suit. Brother Wu had just turned on his phone screen when a new message popped up.

It was supplemental info from the relevant department regarding their current target.

Wei Hong, a low-tier vengeful spirit. He had an adopted daughter who was currently hospitalized, and the surgery fees still hadn’t been paid. His ghost was likely born from obsession…

Brother Wu skimmed it quickly, reading at lightning speed. Thinking about the ghost’s “wonton business,” he wondered—was his obsession making enough money for surgery?

Vengeful spirits that retained human emotions could be manipulated—if you stolen contentcouldn’t beat them, exploit their obsessions.

…

“You want to know if he’s human or ghost?”

Xiao Hei sounded incredulous over the phone. “How about you go see a doctor first?”

Zhou Langxing sprawled out on the hotel bed. “Psychologist?”

“No, a neurologist.”

“I’m serious. Never mind—just check if he’s dead.”

Then came the clatter of keyboard typing. Xiao Hei didn’t hang up—he was just running a person search, and since it was local, with details like surname, appearance, profession, and activity path, narrowing it down wasn’t hard.

He reported an address, then said, “Congrats. He’s still alive. Surveillance shows he left his place at 2:30 this afternoon.”

“Wait—” he continued, “he’s alive, but his neighbors—a family of three—died last night.”

Zhou Langxing sat up, lowering his voice. “How did they die?”

“How the hell should I know?” Xiao Hei replied irritably. “I’m just a regular hacker. ​Read on​I don’t dig into info the government buries—that’s illegal.”

“So it wasn’t a normal murder?”

“Definitely not! The officials stepped in themselves. But why do you even care if he’s human or ghost?”

“Don’t ask,” Zhou Langxing cut off his curiosity, hung up, then transferred a large sum of money over.

His unease grew stronger. He stood, paced a few laps, then couldn’t resist messaging Qin Yan to ask what his next move was.

Qin Yan replied after over two minutes: I’m going back to work tomorrow, so I’m visiting Uncle Wei’s daughter at the hospital now while I have time.

Zhou Langxing instantly went full simp mode: Wait for me! I’m coming too!

Qin Yan didn’t turn him down. He didn’t have the money to help Uncle Wei’s daughter, but Zhou Langxing did. Maybe if he softened a little… He instantly scolded himself for the thought. Don’t show it. If Zhou Langxing wants to help, he can. If not, that’s his choice. It’s not his duty or obligation.

Meanwhile, Xiao Hei’s curiosity intensified. After tapping away for half an hour, some unbelievable info surfaced. He stared at the screen, sucked in a breath, and muttered, “No way…”

He glanced at the transfer record on his phone and felt guilty. “Selling a potentially wrong tip for that much money—I feel bad. Might as well go check it out myself. Not like it’s dangerous. I’ll just avoid eating his wontons.”

Once he had the thought, he sprang into action, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

He tapped away again, soon tracing Uncle Wei’s last known location—but lost the trail near an overpass.

He paused. “Under that overpass… isn’t that a blind spot for the security cameras?”

Packing up his computer, he slung on his backpack and headed out.

…

West side of the city, Yongxing Road.

The three left the residential block, walking down the uneven alleyways. The short-haired woman complained, “What’s with the info team? We just got here and they’re calling to tell us to pull out. My heart nearly exploded when I kicked that door open!”

Brother Wu said, “I didn’t expect him to head out during the day either. He really wants that money.”

Sometimes, he could really empathize with spirits. Pity them, even.

“But this actually makes it easier for us. Wandering around under the sun—that’s suicide for a vengeful spirit.”

Jiang Ling said nothing.

“Brother Wu, why don’t we go in and take a look?”

“What’s there to see? We already guessed what’s in those wonton [Read on]fillings—probably meat from his own corpse.”

“Ewwww~~”

“Haha. I’m saving you from trauma.”

They got in the car, rushing to the next location, hoping to finish off the vengeful spirit before nightfall.

…

Uncle Wei had admitted his daughter to the second-best hospital in the city.

Qin Yan and Zhou Langxing met at the hospital entrance.

Zhou Langxing arrived first, browsing news articles at the gate. A short while later, Qin Yan showed up, once again holding a black umbrella.

As he walked up, he said, “Feels like this umbrella’s too small.”

Then stepped into the shade and gently folded it up.

Zhou Langxing, knowing this was one of Qin Yan’s “episodes,” didn’t comment. His gaze passed over the umbrella and silently thought: Not big enough? That thing could fit two people easy!

They tacitly avoided bringing up the earlier incident.

After getting the girl’s room number at the front desk, they headed straight to the inpatient ward.

The girl, Nannan, had a kidney condition requiring a transplant. She had no money for surgery, and no donor either. Lying in bed, she smiled politely at Qin Yan and Zhou Langxing when she saw them approach—even though she didn’t know them.

Zhou Langxing was instantly reminded of his own mother smiling bravely from a hospital bed.

When she learned Qin Yan knew her father, her smile grew even brighter.

Zhou Langxing was briefly dazed.

Two smiling faces overlapped in his memory.

Qin Yan sat for a while and chatted with her. Most of what she talked about was how hard her dad was working to make money, and a little about how she worried she’d fall behind in school after being discharged.

“There’s an exam next week. I’ll probably get a zero in every subject and come dead last.”

That was the only time her smile dimmed a little.

Qin Yan peeled a candy and handed it to her. She popped it in her mouth and said it was really sweet.

Afterward, Zhou Langxing offered to cover her surgery fees—but [unauthorized copy]admitted he couldn’t help with the donor.

“I can pay, but I don’t want to just play the good guy,” he said, eyes downcast. “She’s not the only one waiting—there are so many others. The doctor said her condition isn’t that severe yet. She can still afford to wait. Some people can’t. I can’t jump the line and rob them of their right to live.”

Qin Yan gazed at him deeply, his eyes gentle. “I’m really surprised.”

Zhou Langxing looked up. “Surprised I had a moment of compassion? Thought I was some cold, heartless bastard?”

“Of course not,” Qin Yan said slowly. “On the way here, I figured you might have a change of heart. What I didn’t expect was that you’d actually think about how snatching a kidney source—while kind on the surface—could also bring disaster and break up someone else’s family.”

He went on:

“This could’ve been simple for you. Say a word, and your people would’ve taken care of it. You didn’t even have to think. But you still thought it through seriously.”

…Was that praise?

Zhou Langxing wasn’t quite sure.

He turned his head away, not wanting Qin Yan to see the slight upward curl of his lips. “I thought you’d blame me for only throwing money at the problem.”

“Why would I? I only brought a few fruits. Having compassion at all is already rare—do we really need to measure how much compassion is enough?”

Qin Yan shook his head. “Besides, doing everything for someone often breeds unhealthy entitlement. I’m not saying Nannan is like that—but there are many such examples in society. In the end, we’re strangers. Can’t expect too much.”

Zhou Langxing laughed. “Are you giving me a lecture now?”

“Wouldn’t dare. But are you feeling any better now?”

“You laid all that bare for me—how could I not feel better?” Zhou Langxing shot him a glance. “You’re pretty honest.”

“Exactly. Even you say I’m honest. So everything I said before, you didn’t believe a word of it, huh?”

How did they end up right back at that damned topic?

Zhou Langxing clicked his tongue silently, heart stuttering a little. “Didn’t I already nod?”

“You think I’m stupid?”

Qin Yan threw him a sidelong glance and walked out of the hospital first.

It was 4 p.m. The orange sun still hung high in the sky. Qin Yan raised his black umbrella with practiced ease and sighed, “She’s got no family now. What’s that little girl supposed to do?”

Behind him, Zhou Langxing hesitated to speak.

But in the end, he gave in and [visit our site]joined the “game,” replying, “She’s got no family… but she’s got a ghost.”

Qin Yan blinked and glanced at him. “Fair point.”

And truth be told, Uncle Wei was more capable than Shurong. People could actually see him—he could set up his stall, sell wontons, earn money, all without hiding.

Thinking of this, his expression tightened. He still hadn’t asked Shurong: what happens if you eat Uncle Wei’s wontons?

What would happen?

Would… you die?

…

“So fragrant, so delicious… Give me another bowl… Sir, I’m in awe—how are they this good?!”

Beneath the overpass, a man seated at a makeshift table cradled his bowl, gushing in delight.

Xiao Hei had just stepped out of a cab and stared in disbelief at the long line under the bridge.

If the consequences were really that serious, then damn it—why did the authorities keep it all under wraps? Even if Wei Hong had been poisoning people, at least say that!

How many people had already eaten them?

But Xiao Hei didn’t have to panic for long. Once the authorities got word, they quickly dispatched personnel to drive the crowd away.

It was just two traffic cops.

They were clearly unaware of the real issue, thinking only that the line was affecting the city’s appearance.

The crowd refused to leave, emboldened by their numbers and the notion that “law doesn’t punish the masses.” They jeered, “What’s wrong with lining up for wontons? You won’t even let people do business anymore?”

Eventually, the officers’ efforts started to work. Some people left the queue, and as the line thinned, Uncle Wei’s face darkened.

One of the officers quietly reported in, and then said in shock, “What? He’s poisoning people?!”

Hiding nearby, Xiao Hei stomped in frustration. “You come up with that excuse now? What the hell were you hiding it for earlier?!”

Once the word “poisoning” came out, the crowd instantly scattered, panic spreading like wildfire. Especially those who had just been eating on folding stools—many of them were now gagging themselves and throwing up violently.

The customers were gone. Business was ruined. Nannan’s surgery money wouldn’t come together now…

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it…

They should all just die!!!

Uncle Wei finally bared his twisted, furious face.

The two traffic cops were originally planning to subdue the threat, but after hearing new orders through their earpieces, they began to retreat slowly—shouting for the crowd to evacuate as they moved.

Xiao Hei backed away with the others. He was curious, sure—but he valued his life more. He’d only come because the intel had been vague, making it sound like only eating the wontons was dangerous.

Now, seeing even the cops retreat… yeah, that wonton stall guy who’d supposedly died and come back clearly had some real tricks up his sleeve.

Someone stepped on Xiao Hei’s heel in the chaos, making him stumble.

He cursed under his breath.

Then, behind him, he heard something heavy slam to the ground. His mind flashed to the black iron pot.

Then—he caught a glimpse of something pale and pink scattering through the air.

And shrieks. Dozens of terrified screams filled his ears.

Whatever it was—it wasn’t good.

He didn’t even look back. Just swung his arms and sprinted with all he had.

That’s when something blocked his path.

What… what was it?

He looked—and saw a wonton hovering mid-air.

It writhed unnaturally, something trying to burst out from inside. Oh—pink. A blob of pink meat.

That wad of meat flew straight for Xiao Hei’s mouth.

What the hell is this crap!!!

Screaming inside, Xiao Hei slapped a hand over his mouth and ran like hell.