Chapter 42: I Want Eighty Percent

Ye Huan and I rested for a day, not driving toward White Dragon Cliff until evening.

Shortly after I turned off the main highway, I noticed someone on a bicycle chasing us from behind.

Although the rider was on an archaic, heavy-duty bicycle, the speed was astonishingly fast. The person kept ringing the bell behind us as if demanding that we clear the way.

Anyone who frequently drives at night knows the golden rule: "Never stop for anyone on the roadside, and never chase anyone who overtakes you."

In the desolate mountains and wilderness, if someone waves for you to stop in the middle of the night, there is an eighty percent chance it is a ghost looking for a free ride. If you pick them up, a hitchhiking ghost is one thing, but if you happen upon a vicious ghost seeking a substitute for reincarnation, your car will end up wrecked at the bottom of the ravine, and you will be among the dead.

Furthermore, if someone overtakes you in the dead of night, you must never chase after them—especially if the vehicle or person repeatedly appears ahead of your car.

If you finally catch up to them, what you see might just be a car made of paper.

I glanced into the rearview mirror. Like a leaf caught in a gust of wind, the bicycle suddenly surged forward by more than ten meters, pressing right against the side of my car.

The rider abruptly turned his head and stared right through my car window. The skin on his face was unnaturally pale, except for his cheeks, which bore patches of vivid, bloody red.

A paper effigy riding a bicycle!

I projected my voice mentally to Ye Huan: "From now on, play dead. No matter what happens, pretend you are fast asleep and pay attention to nothing."

Ye Huan hurriedly closed his eyes.

I swept a glance toward the roadside out of the corner of my eye. A cold gale suddenly whipped up from the barren wasteland, cutting across the dirt road, and the wind-swept loess instantly engulfed the body of the car.

When the wind subsided slightly, the paper effigy was already sitting cross-legged on the hood of my car, half-hunching its back and peering at me through the windshield: "Young Master San of Shengtian?"

"Heroes truly emerge from the youth! When I was your age, I hadn't even finished my apprenticeship yet, yet you have already made such a grand name for yourself."

The paper effigy was speaking with Zong Zheng's voice.

Zong Zheng sounded like he was praising me, but his tone carried a mocking undertone. I slammed on the brakes, and the paper effigy was instantly flung off the hood. Seizing the momentum, I tapped the gas pedal and slowly rolled right over it.

The crunching sound of the straw inside the paper effigy being crushed beneath the tires drifted into the car, and I unhurriedly remarked: "If you're just here to exchange pleasantries, save your breath. I don't have the habit of engaging in small talk when I'm on business."

Before long, I saw a flattened paper effigy in the rearview mirror, clawing its way up the rear window of the car bit by bit.

Even though I knew the paper effigy was back on the vehicle, I had no intention of slowing down, continuing to tear wildly along the dirt road.

Soon after, the paper effigy crawled down from the front windshield in an inverted posture, lying sideways across the roof with its face directly blocking my line of sight.

This time, the paper effigy's first words were: "Don't brake!"

I slammed on the brakes once more, driving straight over the paper effigy a second time.

This time, the paper effigy failed to get back up. It sprawled flat on the road and screamed: "That little ghost, Bean Sprout, belongs to you, right? If you don't want him dead, get back here right now."

I had completely forgotten about Bean Sprout.

No wonder he hadn't come back to find me; he had been captured by Zong Zheng all along.

I threw the car into reverse, backed up directly over the paper effigy once again, and finally stepped on the brake.

I leaped out of the car and squatted in front of the paper effigy, whose lower back was pinned beneath the tire: "Speak if you have something to say, spit it out if you have a grievance."

The paper effigy chuckled sinisterly: "Young Master San, you seem to have misunderstood our relationship. You are the one begging me right now, not the other way around."

"You had better not utter harsh threats to me. Don't ruin your renowned reputation for righteousness in Shengtian just over some lonely, wandering ghost, Young Master San!"

I drew my dagger, pierced straight through its head with a single thrust, jumped back into the car, and sped toward White Dragon Cliff.

Before I had driven very far, I heard Bean Sprout crying out for me: "Young Master San, save me... Save me! It hurts so much!"

I glanced in the direction of the cries and spotted Bean Sprout nailed to a tree by the roadside. His tiny body hung suspended in the air, struggling desperately while the green flames flickering over his wounds constantly drifted away.

Ye Huan instinctively wanted to move, but I sharply snapped, "Don't move!"

With that, I pressed hard on the gas pedal, and the car sped swiftly past Bean Sprout.

Even after driving more than a hundred meters further, I could still hear Bean Sprout's despairing cries.

Without a word, I stepped harder on the accelerator, driving the car directly into the territory of White Dragon Cliff. Zong Zheng finally appeared by the roadside.

Seeing Zong Zheng waving at me from afar, I jerked the steering wheel and charged straight at him. The color drained entirely from Zong Zheng's face, but it was already too late for him to dodge.

I quickly muttered to Ye Huan, "Bear with it!" and slammed on the brakes. After skidding several meters, the car came to a dead stop right in front of the paralyzed and terrified Zong Zheng. Driven by inertia, Ye Huan's head slammed against the glass with a loud thud before bouncing back into his seat.

A goose egg-sized bump swelled up on Ye Huan's forehead, yet he sat there completely motionless as if he knew nothing at all.

I couldn't help but let out a silent sigh of relief: Good, Ye Huan held on.

I cast a cold glance at Zong Zheng: "Can we talk properly now?"

When Zong Zheng's gaze landed on Ye Huan, he was momentarily struck speechless, not knowing what to say!

I said indifferently: "You don't need to look at him. He's not dead, just poisoned."

"Sharing one steamed bun between two people is always better than sharing it among three, isn't it?"

Zong Zheng was stunned: "You aren't..."

I smiled and said: "Zong Zheng, how old are you? Why are you still asking such naive questions? Actually, we are the exact same kind of person. If you could abandon an adopted son without a second thought, why couldn't I abandon a companion?"

"Surely you didn't think he chose to go devour that Black Tiger Demonic Qi of his own accord, did you?"

Instead of refuting my words, Zong Zheng looked as though a heavy burden had been lifted from his heart.

People in the underworld are never afraid of cooperating with villains; what they fear most is cooperating with gentlemen.

Villains can be bound by mutual interests and can cast aside all previous grievances in a short time to plot for massive profits.

Cooperating with a gentleman, on the other hand, leads to endless constraints and bickering, which is why underworld figures often avoid cooperation altogether.

Without waiting for Zong Zheng to speak, I stated: "I want eighty percent of the secret burial treasures at White Dragon Cliff!"

Zong Zheng instantly flew into a rage: "I have guarded White Dragon Cliff for all these years! By what right do you show up and demand eighty percent?"

I sneered: "I have the power to kill you, but you lack the power to kill me. That alone justifies my demand for sixty percent. Furthermore, you murdered my ghost servant, so taking another twenty percent as compensation is hardly excessive, is it?"

Zong Zheng hurriedly said: "Your ghost servant isn't dead yet. I'll send him over right now."

Zong Zheng clapped his hands toward the shadows, and shortly after, two wandering ghosts carried Bean Sprout over to us.

I glanced at the feeble Bean Sprout and said: "No good. He isn't dead, but he is injured. I still want eighty percent."