On My Way - Chapter 47

Chapter 47 - He Is a Malignant Ghost Crawled Up from Hell

I remember it very clearly. It was an early autumn afternoon when I completed the final paperwork.

Two years and seven months later, the relocation project for Jiaolong Village was officially completed.

Compared to Yu Shixuan’s homestay complex, this place looked ordinary, lacking any particular sense of design.

But I knew that after countless days and nights, we had built cost-effective, insulated exterior walls and light-steel-frame sloped roofs that could shed winter snow and summer rain. Every component of the buildings made full use of solar energy.

It was also a work crafted with painstaking effort. Its beauty was a practical beauty, one that made the lives of the people who moved in a little more convenient, a little happier.

I stood there, observing every tile, every brick and stone.

I was leaving, heading to a new place, but my two years of time were forever solidified here, more immortal than youth itself.

"Ren Dongxue." Old Feng rolled down the car window and said, "Get in."

"Coming."

I scurried over like a sycophant.

The stingy county government had finally decided to allocate funds for tourism development, and Old Feng wanted to get his hands on this project, which is why he had stayed until now.

By some coincidence, the two of us had no choice but to take the same car to the county seat.

It was just like before: I drove, and Old Feng sat in the passenger seat, only the silence inside the car was deathly.

My project experience was now sufficient, and Manager An had promised that I should be transferred to the headquarters by the end of the year. The specific department hadn't been decided yet; if it were the Engineering Department, it would be fine, but if it were the Project Department, my direct superior would be Old Feng again.

To be honest, after we tore off the mask of civility that time, I regretted it for quite a while. There was no life-or-death conflict between us, just that he felt I wasn't submissive enough, and I felt he was shameless.

—In truth, this wasn't really a major flaw; there are just too many shameless leaders in this world.

I think the reason we tore our relationship apart at that moment, when it all boiled down to it, was that I was no longer willing to stand on his side. I couldn't explain the specific reason, but in short, I gradually realized that while Old Feng was a benefactor of sorts, we were ultimately not the same kind of people.

For example, provoking Chana to drive him to madness was essentially inducing a crime. It was a vicious and clever tactic, but it was something I couldn't bring myself to do.

Therefore, I didn't regret cutting ties with him.

Uleji Village was still too remote. Halfway there, Old Feng, who was in the backseat, suddenly said, "Turn left."

I asked, "Huh? Why?"

"Don't make me say it a second time."

I had no choice but to turn, gradually driving into a stretch of wasteland where waist-high reeds glistened in the sunlight.

"You have deviated from your route. Recalculating... Turn around ahead—turn around—turn around—"

Old Feng said, "Pull over to the side."

"Huh?"

I suddenly felt inexplicably tense. Old Feng wouldn't be trying to force himself on me, would he?

He was nearly fifty; he’d throw his back out...

After the car came to a stop, I was just about to get out when Old Feng pinned me in my seat.

"Don't get out. We’re switching seats. Quickly."

I was stunned for a moment before realizing that something had gone wrong.

Old Feng sat in the driver's seat and stomped on the gas. Our beat-up Jeep lurched heavily and began to tear down the dirt road at an unimaginable speed.

I felt like I was going to throw up.

Old Feng didn't say a word, his foot never leaving the accelerator. As we charged up a slope, it felt like we were driving straight into the sun; I could barely open my eyes.

It was also at this moment that I finally heard the roar of an engine.

In the rearview mirror, a black Cullinan, resembling a crouching panther, was following us closely.

A sense of impending doom clutched my heart tightly. Trembling in the passenger seat, I took out my phone and snapped a few photos.

Both vehicles were moving too fast, leaving only blurry shadows, but the gaunt figure in the driver's seat reminded me of someone who shouldn't have appeared...

Chana.

How was this possible?

"He has been following us. It was too late when I realized it." Old Feng kept accelerating, attempting to shake him off.

This was a vast stretch of wasteland, endless in both directions. The distance forward to the county seat was too far, and the distance backward to Uleji Village was just as far.

Our piece-of-junk car absolutely could not outrun a top-tier luxury vehicle... but because Old Feng had driven onto the dirt road, the Cullinan’s chassis was too low; the potholed road surface should have posed a certain obstacle.

But, what if he caught up to us? What did he want?

On that cold autumn day, sweat drenched my back. I dialed the emergency line incessantly. At first, there was no signal. When I finally got through, I realized I couldn't explain where we were at all, and could only describe it incoherently: "There's a dirt road coming out of Uleji, then turn left... Ah!"

I only felt a giant hand behind us slam us forward. My head hit the airbag, and I bit my tongue, filling my mouth with the taste of blood.

We had been rear-ended.

Time seemed to be infinitely slowed down. I saw billows of thick smoke rising from behind the car, and the air was filled with a sharp, heavy scent of gasoline. The man in the driver's seat behind us poked his head out. His cheeks were deeply sunken and his beard was very long, making him look like a vicious black wolf.

It really was Chana, the Chana I hadn't seen in two years.

Under the golden sunlight, he looked at me and revealed a cold, eerie smile.

Before I could even react, Old Feng started the car again. I didn't think our piece-of-junk Jeep could even run anymore.

It carried clouds of smoke, as if it would fall apart at any second.

I didn't dare look back; I only dared to frantically keep dialing the emergency number. Suddenly, after a violent turn, Old Feng stopped and roared at me, "Get out!"

"What?"

"Call the police! Find someone to save me!"

I was practically kicked out of the car by Old Feng. In the next second, he continued to drive forward.

The Cullinan’s massive engine roar followed him.

I stood there, momentarily dazed.

Old Feng was driving madly to shake him off; I had no idea where we were at this moment.

The soil here was severely desertified, and the sparse grassland was visible at a glance, with only a patch of withered yellow shrubs at the bottom of the slope.

And the sun was already slanting to the west.

I had to find people, find a road. If I stayed here and was discovered by Chana, I would definitely die.

But I didn't know which direction to run, and there was absolutely no signal on my phone.

I stared at that patch of shrubbery, calculating wildly in my heart. It was too neatly arranged; it must have been manually planted to mitigate grassland desertification, which meant the vegetation on the other side of the shrubs was likely more lush.

Where there is grass, there are shepherds, and I could find someone to save me.

I steeled my heart and ran toward the direction of the shrubs. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, like chaotic drumbeats.

The sun moved slowly and ceaselessly toward the west.

This was a downward slope. I stumbled forward, falling and climbing back up repeatedly, as if performing in a silent film themed around murder.

Finally, I reached the front of the shrubbery, but the vegetation underneath remained sparse; I couldn't see any grazing fields.

There was no one herding cattle or sheep.

Right at this moment, I realized I had made a fatal mistake.

This was a slope.

It was harder for me to be spotted if I climbed upward. If I walked downward, if Chana was up above, he could see me at a glance.

I was too panicked. I thought, maybe Old Feng had already subdued Chana?

Right, Old Feng was so capable; he was proficient in everything from grappling to combat. Since I’d known him, there was nothing he couldn't accomplish.

How could Chana possibly be a match for him?

The most urgent task was to find people, find a car, and call the police.

I ran forward. The sun set in the west, and the sky had darkened to the point where I couldn't see the path ahead, yet I still didn't know where I was. I could only grab a handful of dirt every once in a while to judge the moisture content.

From the dirt failing to form a clump in my hand, to it slowly dispersing after being squeezed, it meant my judgment was correct: the further I went, the closer I was to lush vegetation.

Finally, when I was completely exhausted, I saw rising cooking smoke in the distance.

There were herders here!

A wave of wild joy washed over me, and I crawled forward using my hands and feet.

I could already hear the footsteps of the sheep returning to the fold; I could already hear the sound of the mothers calling their children home...

Right at this moment, I only felt what seemed like a muffled thunderclap explode in the back of my head. Immediately, a stream of water snaked down my neck.

I numbly wiped it and held it before my eyes, only to realize it was fresh blood.

Before I collapsed, my final conscious thought was of Chana, who was standing there. He was licking the blood off the back of his hand with his tongue, just like a demon from hell.

The sky over the grasslands finally went completely black.