Chapter 1 Old Dao Drives

The old Daoist was driving, the car was going slowly, but the palms of his hands were sweaty.

From time to time, he would steal glances at the boss sitting in the passenger seat, relieved that the boss didn't seem to be getting angry.

Actually, those in the Late Night Bookstore didn't interact much with the outside world on a regular basis.

The boss and Yingying went without saying, and Old Zhang was always busy with work, only popping over to shout "What a coincidence!" when it was time to freeload a meal. After eating, he'd wipe his mouth and leave.

Old Xu occasionally went to the market to buy vegetables, but mostly stayed in the store for his beauty treatments or tinkering with his arrays.

So, the one who really engaged in social activities with the surrounding neighbors was the old Daoist.

Whenever the street, district, local police station, or other organizations held learning meetings about "Creating a Civilized and Hygienic Environment," "Fire Safety Matters," or "The Glory of Paying Taxes," the old Daoist would attend.

In his interactions with the sanitation worker brothers and sisters, he portrayed himself as a struggling old father, a father who had a child late in life.

He'd drifted half his life, had a little money, but his son was disappointing.

His son had a withdrawn personality, liked to study yin and yang, and he couldn't help but accompany his son with his old bones, afraid that if his son lived alone, he might get depressed one day and take a sightseeing tour of the underworld.

The old Daoist breathed a sigh of relief; they'd arrived. The most important thing was that the boss hadn't asked him about that "son" business.

After getting off the Jianghai Avenue overpass, they arrived in Xingren Town, which was located at the junction of Chongchuan District and Tongzhou District in Tongcheng. Continuing deeper, past the town, they'd soon reach the countryside.

The old Daoist had obviously asked for directions in advance. After a few turns, they arrived at Luhua Port Village, under Xingren Town.

The houses here were mostly two- or even three-story buildings built by the families themselves. To be honest, if these houses hadn't been built early on, when people's aesthetic standards weren't as high as they are now, with a little modification, they could be turned into villas.

Plus, with their own fields in front and their own fishponds in back, the comfort of living here would directly surpass the so-called townhouses or large apartments.

The car pulled directly into the yard in front of the other party's house. The other party's father, still wearing his sanitation worker uniform, hurried over to greet them.

He must be the father of the person who had the issue, called Old Sun, an honest and simple old man who eagerly offered them cigarettes.

"Old Sun, where's your son?"

The old Daoist had finally brought the boss over, and he could finally show off in front of his old buddies.

"He's lying in his room upstairs. He's been lying there for days, not eating much, alas!"

Old Sun frowned as soon as he mentioned this. His son wasn't married yet, and if something happened to him, how would he and his old wife live?

"What are you blathering on about? Take us up to see him. Don't worry, I'll vouch for you right here. Whether it's an illness or some kind of unclean thing, my son..."

The old Daoist was about to pat Zhou Ze on the shoulder,

Luckily, he came to his senses in an instant,

And immediately said:

"My ear is a little itchy."

Actually, the old Daoist wasn't just bragging. He really was having health problems. His boss used to be a doctor and could take a look. And if there were other unclean things, even less to worry about!

The man who killed even the King of Hell, would he care about your little ghost jumping around?

"Yes, yes, please, this way."

Old Sun led Zhou Ze and the old Daoist upstairs. Zhou Ze walked at the back. In fact, there was another very important reason why Zhou Ze finally agreed to come with the old Daoist.

Just like Old Zhang was the political correctness of the bookstore, the old Daoist was another benchmark.

Before, he simply thought that the old Daoist was a mine detector, nicknamed "Uncomfortable Without Triggering a Mine-ski."

Now, Zhou Ze felt that the old Daoist had a kind of luck. If you could avoid being killed by him, you could turn him into a trigger for opportunities and treasures.

The outside world was like a dense spider web, but the old Daoist could always find a way to pull the line you needed.

Just as he was figuring out how to increase production, the old Daoist actually ran into two immortal slaves who had descended to the mortal world and were hiding among them.

Past the balcony on the second floor, Old Sun pushed open a door. The old Daoist followed him inside. Zhou Ze took one step inside, then immediately retreated, frowning.

"What's burning in the room? It's so choking."

The old Daoist was stunned. What the hell?

Old Sun was shocked, then cried out, his whole body trembling with excitement. With a "thump," he knelt down in front of Zhou Ze and shouted:

"Master, Master, please save my son, save my son!!!"

If the old Daoist hadn't sensed something was wrong and stopped him, Old Sun would have kowtowed directly to Zhou Ze.

"Get up, get up, can't we talk properly after we get up? Why are you doing this? We're here, so we're definitely going to help. Otherwise, why would we come here!"

Old Sun cried with excitement, pointing at Zhou Ze as if he'd seen a savior, and sobbed to the old Daoist:

"Lu, your son, your son isn't useless, he's not mentally ill!

He's really capable, really capable, your son is an expert!"

"..." The old Daoist.

Damn it!

I used my old face to invite the boss over to help you,

And you, you old geezer, want to kill me!

"Master, Master, please, please save my son, save my son, please..."

Zhou Ze simply ignored Old Sun's excitement.

In his vision,

The room was indeed filled with smog,

As if someone had burned something inside,

But then,

Zhou Ze realized that only he could see these things, ordinary people couldn't see them. But since this was the situation, Old Sun's son was obviously not suffering from a physical illness.

"Stand back a little."

Zhou Ze waved his hand to signal.

Old Sun, however, didn't seem to hear, and struggled free from the old Daoist's grasp, wanting to grab Zhou Ze and continue begging.

Boss Zhou stepped back,

And the old Daoist immediately rushed over, tackled the overly excited Old Sun to the ground. He knew how clean the boss was, and if he got snot and tears all over him,

Oh god,

How terrible!

"Stand back."

"Okay, okay, Old Sun, listen, listen."

Old Sun finally calmed down, and immediately nodded. Only then did the old Daoist release him.

Then,

The old Daoist and Old Sun stood outside the door.

Zhou Ze reached out, using the baleful aura from his fingertips as a guide, and drew out all the turbid energy inside. Only then did he step into the room.

"It's done, let's go in."

The old Daoist patted Old Sun on the shoulder.

Zhou Ze walked to the bedside. There was a mosquito net hanging over the bed, and a young man was lying on it, his face sallow.

Without wasting too much time on the young man, Zhou Ze turned to look around. In fact, these kinds of things were not difficult for Zhou Ze to solve now.

After all, with Tie Hanhan and Half-Face at his side, if he could still be controlled by a little ghost in the mortal world, then Boss Zhou could really take Tie Hanhan and find a piece of tofu to kill himself.

It was just that the process was a bit cumbersome, because that kind of dirty thing didn't always stay by your side when it wanted to harm you. The kind that always lay with you, slept with you, and ate with you either hated you to the bone or loved you so much that it couldn't help itself.

There wasn't that kind of dirty thing in the room, so there was an extra "find clues" game session in the middle, which made Boss Zhou a little impatient.

It was like a person used to doing advanced physics having to explain the principle of light refraction to middle school students.

Finally,

Boss Zhou jumped and slapped the top of the mosquito net.

Some grass and leaves fell down, looking like withered grass or stalks.

It was the busy farming season, and every family basically had stalks piled up in their fields.

When Old Sun saw this, he immediately trembled, his lips turning white.

"What's wrong, Old Sun? If you know something, hurry up and tell us!" The old Daoist reminded him from the side, the boss had put aside his lunch break to come and help!

"Master, Master, please save my son, save..."

The old Daoist immediately gave Old Sun a knock on the back of the head and scolded, "Say something useful!"

Old Sun came back to his senses, pointed at the stalks on the ground and said, "It's him, it must be him, it must be him, he's the one who's缠着 (chanzhe - clinging to, haunting) my son, it's him, it's him!!!"

"No, who is he!" the old Daoist said unhappily.

"From the fifth group of West Village, the fifth group of West Village, surnamed Zheng, I think." When Old Sun said this, his eyes were a little dazed, as if he felt guilty, as if he was afraid, and at the same time, there was a hint of resentment.

"What did you do to him?"

The old Daoist asked directly,

Because it was obvious,

If you didn't provoke him, how could he haunt you as a ghost?

"According to regulations, burning stalks is now prohibited, because it pollutes the environment, can cause fires, and can affect traffic, etc. It has been banned for many years."

"Yes, so what?" The old Daoist continued to ask.

In previous years, at this time of year, farmers would start burning stalks, which was really smoky and affected the air quality greatly. Not to mention, the nearby transportation network was equivalent to an artificial "foggy day."

"My son is in the urban management team. From the beginning of this period, he started going to the countryside to investigate people who were burning stalks privately. Then he investigated the West Village, the one surnamed Zheng, in his fifties, I think, was secretly burning stalks.

When he was caught red-handed with evidence, my son's team went up and gave him a penalty and education."

"He was fined?" the old Daoist asked.

"Yeah, he was fined, it was in accordance with the regulations. Before, notices were posted in every village here, fining those who burn stalks privately from two hundred to two thousand."

"How much was he fined?"

"Two thousand."

The old Daoist licked his lips when he heard this.

Old Sun slapped his thigh, regretting:

"Who knew that after being fined, that Zheng, I don't know why, went home and couldn't think straight, and directly drank pesticide to kill himself!

Damn it, you died, but why did you become a ghost and hold a grudge against my son? You were fined two thousand, and my son's team only got two or three hundred yuan each, why are you fixated on my son!"