Chapter Eighty-Six: The Scent of the Dead

I never expected Chen Dongfang to suddenly appear here at this moment, and what surprised me even more was that as soon as he arrived, he ordered Fatty to let One-Eyed Old Four down. Fatty was stunned as well, but he wasn’t the type to take orders kindly. He cocked an eyebrow and said, “Just because you say so, I have to listen?”

Chen Dongfang glanced at Fatty. I was genuinely worried for Fatty; Li Qing was already formidable, and Chen Dongfang was almost like a hidden boss. How could Fatty possibly be a match for the two of them? But Chen Dongfang didn’t make a move. After looking at Fatty, he lowered his voice and said to me, “Even if Uncle Four has his faults, he’s still an elder.”

“But—” I was about to mention the murder case, but Chen Dongfang cut me off, his tone brooking no argument. “No buts. This is Fudi Valley, not anywhere else.”

His attitude struck me as strange and left me more than a little irritated. But to be honest, I didn’t want to start a conflict with him right now. So I said to Fatty, “Just put him down. He can’t get away.”

Fatty glanced at me, a bit confused, but he must have understood my intent. He let One-Eyed Old Four down—not so much let as threw him to the ground.

“I told you not to provoke them, but you insisted on going,” Chen Dongfang said quietly.

I scratched my head. “I was just worried about that girl’s safety, wasn’t I?”

Chen Dongfang gave me a meaningful look. After a moment, he sighed. “Forget it. I can’t stop you if you’re determined to go. Be careful. But if you want to find the fox spirits’ lair, you’ll need Old Four to lead you. He’s a strange one—force won’t work on him.”

This, at least, gave me some explanation. Otherwise, I’d have been even more uncomfortable. I might not be as quick to vent my displeasure as Fatty, but still—being told to look after the young miss of his family, while he stayed hidden, only to appear now and act all high and mighty—who could stand that?

“If force doesn’t work, you have a better way? Sweet talk? Money?” Fatty mocked Chen Dongfang.

“We haven’t settled the matter from last time,” Chen Dongfang said, looking at Fatty. He was referring to the time Fatty had Wu Xuejiu investigate things through special means.

“Spare me. You’re acting as if you took the blame for me. If there was trouble, it was only because you all had guilty consciences. Was it wrong for me to want to know what I was looking into?” Fatty fired back, never one to let anyone get the last word.

Chen Dongfang’s brows furrowed at that. Even Li Qing at the door took a step forward. Fatty was skilled with talismans, but Chen Dongfang and Li Qing were both martial artists. In a fight, Fatty wouldn’t stand a chance. I shot Fatty a glare, trying to signal him to back down, but he ignored me entirely and sneered at Chen Dongfang, “You, Chen—if you so much as touch a hair on my head, I guarantee not even that old man behind you can protect you. Try me if you don’t believe it.”

Fatty’s words made me even more curious about his background—what kind of confidence did he have? But seeing him unafraid of Chen Dongfang in this situation was actually pretty satisfying. In fact, I was almost hoping Chen Dongfang would lose his temper and hit him, just to see who Fatty’s backer really was. But to my surprise, Chen Dongfang’s tightly knit brow suddenly relaxed. He glanced at Fatty and said blandly, “There will be other chances.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Fatty replied, relentless as ever.

Chen Dongfang’s refusal to engage was as good as conceding, which gave me a sense of satisfaction. The effect had been achieved. Naturally, I wasn’t about to let Fatty keep needling him, so I said, “Alright, we’re all on the same side. That’s enough.”

That gave them both a way out. Then I asked Chen Dongfang, “Uncle Dongfang, how come you’re back at this time?”

“I got back early this morning. Tried calling you but your phone was out of service. When I asked Chen Qingshan, I knew you had come here, and I figured you’d end up fighting with Old Four, so I hurried over,” Chen Dongfang replied.

Then he turned to Li Qing and said, “Come in.” He gave me a look and signaled, “Let’s talk outside.”

Outside, we each lit a cigarette. Chen Dongfang said, “You’ve seen the situation. Old Four lost his eye to a tiger, though no one knows where it came from. Don’t be curious—the tiger’s dead now. Back then, it was a yellow weasel that saved him, so Old Four treats the weasel as a mountain god. The fox spirits are happy to have him as a sentry, since he knows everything that happens in Fudi Valley. They rely on him.”

“You know all this and still protect him?” I looked at Chen Dongfang.

“Even a dog has an owner. If it were any other spirit beast, it’d be a different matter. But fox spirits—ask Fatty, he’ll tell you. The guy’s reckless, and to be honest, even his own backers would curse him for crossing the fox spirits,” Chen Dongfang said.

I wanted to say more, but Chen Dongfang cut me off. “I can get him to take you in. But before the full moon, you must be back. Something big is going to happen in Fudi Valley then.”

With that, he gave me no chance to reply, heading straight back into the house. He went over and helped the barely-standing One-Eyed Old Four up, saying softly, “Uncle Four, I’m sorry I’m late. Sorry you had to suffer.”

Even though Chen Dongfang had rescued Old Four and called him “Uncle Four” with respect, the old man remained stubborn. He shook off Chen Dongfang’s hand and barked, “All of you, get out!”

Fatty snorted out a laugh. I shot him a look, telling him to cut it out.

Chen Dongfang, however, wasn’t offended. He said, “Uncle Four, you can go down the mountain. Just say you’re the grandson of Chen Tianfang, and these two are my friends. This young man is the son of Ye Tianhua. See if the Yellow Immortal is willing to meet.”

Old Four still looked obstinate, so Chen Dongfang continued, “If the Yellow Immortal still refuses, I’ll see to it that these two leave.”

Old Four looked from Chen Dongfang to me and Fatty, and finally nodded. “They killed the messenger. They’ll have to pay the price.”

“We’ll see what the Yellow Immortal says,” Chen Dongfang replied.

At last, Old Four nodded. He needed nothing, and was about to head into the mountains, but Fatty blocked the door and said, “So you just let him go? If he doesn’t come back, isn’t that exactly what you want?”

Chen Dongfang looked at Fatty. “He’ll come back.”

“Honestly, I don’t even trust myself, let alone him,” Fatty said.

“So what do you suggest?” Chen Dongfang glared at Fatty.

Fatty grabbed Old Four’s hand, pulled my dagger from my waist, and sliced Old Four’s palm. He caught the dripping blood on a yellow talisman, then let go. “Go on. I have your destiny talisman. If you don’t come back, I’ll burn it and make sure your soul is scattered.”

Old Four shot Fatty a murderous glare, as if he could skin him alive right then, but still clutched his hand and ran off toward the deep mountains. With Old Four gone, things were a bit awkward after the earlier conflict, though Fatty looked as unconcerned as ever.

Chen Dongfang came over and said, “Fatty, you’re not convinced, are you? The moment you walked in, you decided he was a killer. Did you smell the scent of death and assume he’d murdered someone?”

Fatty looked at Chen Dongfang, puzzled.

I had no idea why Chen Dongfang was bringing this up.

Chen Dongfang gave a cold laugh and continued, “Take another sniff. Do you still smell death?”

Fatty sniffed, then sniffed his own clothes. His face turned green.

“Back then, Brother Tianhua told me himself—Old Four died in the mountains while guiding him,” Chen Dongfang said quietly.

Those words sent a chill straight down my spine.