SES Chapter 62 Part 2

Then Yiwansan said, “I want to head back to the village one more time. I didn’t get to walk around.”

Yan Hongsha added softly, “I need to arrange the cremation for my uncle. That’s not something you can just pay for, right? There are forms and procedures.”

Since she was staying, Mu Dai had to stay too—she was the bodyguard. And if Mu Dai stayed, then of course Cao Yanhua stayed too—he was her apprentice.

No matter how you looked at it, Luo Ren couldn’t leave first. So, they all decided to stay two more days.

After returning the boat and settling the rental, Yiwansan went back to Wuzhu Village alone. The others found a nearby hotel with a large suite and waited while arranging Yan Jiuxiao’s funeral.

Luo Ren kept a close eye on Mu Dai. But he had to admit—she seemed completely back to normal. That incident at sea… maybe it had just been a minor fluke.

Yan Hongsha was the busiest, running around to get a death certificate, contacting the funeral home. Fortunately, as a direct relative, she could handle most things as long as she kept old Mr. Yan in the dark. Plus, the body had been sitting for days—waiting any longer would’ve been inappropriate.

On the day of the cremation, she insisted that everyone go with her. Her reasoning: What if the dream was a warning?

So everyone except Yiwansan went. To keep an eye on the cursed scroll, Cao Yanhua put the bucket in a plastic bag and carried it the whole way—there and back.

The crematorium was small but orderly. Everyone did their jobs, and the process went smoothly. Still suspicious, Yan Hongsha tried to peek into the furnace room, but was politely escorted out.

The cremator was a skinny man with small features—nothing like the one in her dream. Yan Hongsha figured she was probably just paranoid. She even checked his pants—tailored and snug, no room for a hidden tail.

That night, Yiwansan returned from Wuzhu Village, lazy and casual, carrying a cloth bundle. Whatever was inside wasn’t big, but it looked heavy.

Cao Yanhua asked him what he’d been up to.

He replied offhandedly, “Nothing much. Burned some paper money for my mom, stood by her grave. Went door to door. Paid back old debts—grudges too.”

The whole village was empty except for him. The houses were still there, though.

So he went house to house, smashing things. Kicked in doors, broke windows, picked up stones and bashed through heavy old stoves too bulky to take away. It felt great.

When he was a kid, his mom used to warn him not to mess with people’s stoves—that’s how they cooked. Damage the stove, and the kitchen god gets angry, and the family goes hungry.

Well, good. Smash them all. Let them go hungry. Not like he’d starve.

All that rage, years of pent-up fury, came pouring out on those oblivious, long-abandoned buildings. He knew it was childish and pathetic, but whatever. Who cared?

When he finally wore himself out, he plopped to the ground. The sunlight stung his eyes, and in the haze, he saw that day long ago—a misty morning, and a hand shoving him hard out of the village circle.

“Jiang Zhao, from this day on, you are no longer one of us. Step foot in this village again, and don’t blame us for what happens.”

Now he glared defiantly at the silent, deserted village and shouted into the sunlight: “Well, I’m back. And I wrecked your house. What are you gonna do, huh? Come and get me!”

No one responded. Dust danced in the sunbeams. Far off, the sea whispered faintly, like it was asking, “Who are you…?”

Deep down, he wished someone would come punch him. At least that way, the village would feel alive. Whether it accepted him or not, it would still be alive.

Much later, he got up and walked out. Passing by the ancestral hall, he looked up. Maybe it was the sun burning his eyes, but he saw it: the figure of the Immortal riding a phoenix, with wide sleeves billowing—like the next breeze might lift it into flight.

The Immortal was pointing. But at whom? And toward where?

As Yiwansan showered, Cao Yanhua stared at the cloth bundle. His curiosity grew like dough rising—What on earth was inside?

Yan Hongsha glared. “Cao Fatty—respect!”

He grumbled. “You want to see it too! Come on, what’s the harm in taking a peek? It’s not like it’ll run away.”

Yan Hongsha huffed. Of course, she wanted to see. Her curiosity was a smoldering fire. She doubted it was some dark secret—Yiwansan had left it out in the open. Still, the fabric covering it made it maddening.

She liked to think her morals were a notch higher than Cao Fatty’s, though. So she wouldn’t be the one to uncover it.

Cao Yanhua turned to Luo Ren. “Little Luo bro, what do you say?”

Everyone in the room needed to be on board.

But Luo Ren wouldn’t touch that mess—or let Mu Dai touch it either. “Mu Dai, come walk with me.”

She looked at him and didn’t move. “Is that an invitation?”

He nodded. “It is.”

She smiled and popped up, following him out the door.

With the shower still running, only Cao Yanhua and Yan Hongsha remained.

No more hesitation—Cao Yanhua pounced and unwrapped the bundle in a few quick motions.

It was…

The Immortal from the ancestral hall’s roof corner. Wide sleeves, ornate robe, posed like he was about to fly. The base was jagged—it had been smashed off.

Yan Hongsha leaned in, forgetting to play innocent. Now they were both accomplices.

She said, “Looks like Yiwansan still holds a serious grudge against the village—even took this down.”

Cao Yanhua sighed too.

First, he destroyed the village guardian. Now the Immortal who pointed the way. One at each end—both in his hands.

San-San bro… truly the ultimate destroyer of ridge beasts.