Chapter Thirty-Four: The Water Demon

My elder brother’s temper was notoriously bad—I’d experienced it firsthand. Once, he glared at me with such icy coldness that even now, recalling it makes my heart race. But the Fatty was just as hotheaded. The two of them, barely exchanging a few words, seemed poised to come to blows. Seeing how things were escalating, I knew I couldn’t just stand by and watch. I hastily stepped forward to smooth things over, saying, “What’s this about? Why not just talk it out? We’re all friends here—what happens if it gets physical?”

Fatty replied, “Brother King of Thieves, I’ve always considered you a friend—wanted to be friends with your elder brother, too. But did you see it? Someone’s not only deliberately stirring up trouble and trying to dump the blame on me, but also threatening me. Think I’m easily scared?”

“Can’t you keep quiet for a bit?” Given what I’d seen before, I was sure Fatty wasn’t my elder brother’s match. Despite my own suspicions about him, I didn’t want to see him suffer.

At that moment, my brother stood up, fixing his gaze on Fatty, looking ready to strike any second.

Fatty, not to be outdone, glared right back and said, “For King of Thieves’ sake, I won’t make the first move. But I’m pissed off now, so I’m leaving. Let’s see who can stop me.”

Whether Fatty was backing down or bluffing, I really wished my brother would just let him go. But as Fatty turned to leave, my brother suddenly moved. I hurriedly grabbed him, shaking my head, “Don’t, big brother.”

He brushed me off easily and strode toward Fatty.

But Fatty unexpectedly stopped, spun around, and threw something from his hand with astonishing speed. It flew straight toward my brother. My heart sank—so they were actually fighting after all.

Yet before the object reached my brother, it suddenly burst into flames with a loud whoosh. Only then did I see it was a yellow talisman, burning up before it even got close.

“Sun Zhongmo, I knew it—Fatty was right, you’re someone who grew up eating the flesh of water corpses,” Fatty said with a sneer.

“Get out!” My brother didn’t strike, but Fatty’s words seemed to enrage him. He shouted angrily at Fatty.

Fatty chuckled, shrugged, and said, “Until we meet again.”

With that, he limped out, leaving behind an awkward silence. Fatty’s comment about my brother eating water corpse flesh left me utterly confused, but I didn’t dare look at my brother. After a while, he stood motionless. I whispered, “Big brother, don’t be angry. It’s not worth it.”

“You should go, too,” he said softly, though his tone was as firm as ever.

“Alright, get some rest. It’ll be dawn soon,” I replied, then stepped around him and left.

—

Outside my brother’s courtyard, I found Fatty hadn’t gone far. He was sitting by the gate, catching his breath. Seeing me, he beckoned, “Give me a cigarette.”

I handed him one from my damp pack. He lit it and took several deep drags. The sky was almost bright, and his face was pale, beads of sweat covering his brow. He clenched his teeth as he smoked, clearly enduring immense pain.

Looking down, I saw blood seeping from his leg wound, which was already horrifying. After a few steps, it had torn open.

“Injured and still acting tough? What if a real fight breaks out?” I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

Fatty managed a bitter smile. “I’ve been wandering the world for years. Don’t let the fat face fool you—wherever I go, it’s worth something. I’m precious, you know. My life can be lost, but never my dignity.”

He pulled out a few talismans from his belt, burned them, and sprinkled the ashes on his wound. The bleeding stopped, but he grimaced in agony, bracing himself against a stone, reaching for my shoulder.

For reasons I couldn’t explain, I shifted slightly, causing his hand to miss. Immediately, I realized my action might hurt him. But when I looked up and saw his expression, I knew it was too late for explanations.

There was a hint of sadness in his eyes—something I’d never seen since the day we met. He managed a weak smile and turned away. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

“No,” I replied, conflicted.

“Not surprising. If I were you, I’d be suspicious, too. I came here on Tang Renjie’s recommendation, so you already had doubts. Now, thanks to Tang Renjie’s scheme, you probably think even my leg injury is a ploy. I won’t say anything else, except this: no matter whether Tang Renjie is behind all this, I know nothing about it. Just tell me—do you believe me or not?” Fatty asked.

“Let’s go back and get some medicine for your wound. What’s the point of talking now?” I bent down to help him.

But he shook me off. “Believe me or not!”

“What’s the difference? Do you think I can judge that clearly?” I replied.

“If you believe me, I’ll recognize you as a friend. If not, then forget it. I know it sounds stupid, and you probably don’t care whether Fatty is your friend,” he said.

I looked into Fatty’s eyes and nodded, “I believe you.”

Fatty turned, his gaze resolute. “King of Thieves, from today, you are my friend—Fat Liu’s friend.”

Hearing this, warmth spread through my heart. To be honest, ever since my father died—so early and so mysteriously—I’d never really had friends. Growing up, I’d met plenty of drinking companions, but Fatty’s declaration carried a heroic sincerity, like sworn brotherhood.

“Come on, let’s head back. Stop pretending you’re fine—I know you can barely walk,” I bent over, inviting him to lean on my arm.

This time, Fatty didn’t refuse. But he was so heavy that supporting him made our progress slow and difficult. As we walked, he cursed, “Your big brother is really sly. Wants to fight Fatty but won’t wait until I’m better—taking advantage of my weakness, isn’t he?”

“That day, you said fighting the coffin underwater was a matter of expertise. Today, the masked man injured you so badly, but my brother managed to drive him off. So even if you two haven’t actually fought, it’s pretty clear who’s stronger. Keeping up the tough talk is pointless,” I laughed.

“Not necessarily,” Fatty retorted stubbornly.

“Forget it. Earlier, that talisman burned up before reaching my brother—you said he grew up eating water corpse flesh. What did you mean? He seemed furious after you said it,” I asked, curious.

“I’ve heard of the Twelve Ghost Pits. I don’t know about the stone coffin inside, but I know it’s full of corpses. Water is yin, and corpses accumulate even more yin energy. That ghost pit is a place where bodies pile up—ordinary people wouldn’t survive inside. So when Tang Renjie said your brother could go in, I suspected he was a water ghost,” Fatty explained.

“A water ghost?” I repeated, stunned.

Fatty nodded. “I never had a chance to get close before, so I couldn’t be sure. Today, being near him, I could sense the aura of death all over your brother. If I throw a talisman for suppressing evil onto a living person, it’s just a scrap of paper. On a corpse, it works. Your brother isn’t dead, but he grew up eating water corpse flesh—his body is saturated with corpse energy, which suppresses walking corpses in water.”

“Water corpse flesh… you mean?” I asked, horrified.

“That’s right—just bodies from the water. If you eat it for eighteen years, you become a water ghost,” Fatty said.

I couldn’t accept what Fatty said about my brother, though deep down, I felt I already had. Otherwise, why was my brother so enraged when Fatty said those words?

“Don’t talk nonsense—you’re the one who eats water corpse flesh!” I retorted.

“Don’t doubt it. Your brother raises the flag as a corpse retriever. Maybe you don’t know, but in the past, water ghosts were corpse retrievers. Called corpse retrievers, but they were different from the others,” Fatty continued.

The more he spoke, the more my brother seemed exactly as he described.

“I heard from a friend that in ancient times, with constant wars, plagues, famine, and shipwrecks, there were many bodies in the Yellow River. Like now, fishermen were responsible for retrieving corpses, but the rules were stricter. When they found a body, they’d cover it with white cloth, tie it with hemp rope woven with black dog hair at the waist, and drag it, waiting for someone to claim it. If the family came, they’d bring the body ashore. Unclaimed bodies were left in the water—those were orphan souls, never retrieved. But in certain cases, they’d call for water ghosts,” Fatty said.