Chapter 27: The Appearance of the Demon Corpse King, Fang Panguo

In the countless tangled alleys at the outskirts of Z City, Wang Yong was desperately evading several viscounts pursuing him, until he was finally driven into a dead end. Facing several blood clan viscounts of equal rank behind him, Wang Yong showed not a trace of cowardice; instead, he bravely charged forward, engaging them in fierce close combat.

If you ask me, when we nightfolk who’ve never practiced martial arts get into a fight, it’s not much different from ordinary brawls—except our strength is hundreds, even thousands of times greater. A fifth-generation demon corpse, with its unique abilities, could easily demolish a four-ton sedan with a single blow.

Within the alley, Wang Yong unleashed the demon corpse’s exclusive gift: speed. Like the wind, he darted back and forth, and before long, had left those blood clan viscounts far behind, vanishing without a trace.

When I found Wang Yong, he was leaning against a trash bin, breathing heavily. Clearly, he’d exerted himself to shake off those blood clansmen. Since the threat was gone, Wang Yong, afraid of being caught again, insisted I stay with him for a while. I had no choice but to inform the principal, complete the necessary paperwork, and move into Wang Yong’s villa, not far from my college. For the time being, I had become a wayfaring student.

Lately, the city had been in turmoil; many citizens were terrified by what they’d witnessed that day. To restore calm, the city deployed armed troops to patrol the streets at night, gradually easing public anxiety.

At Wang Yong’s villa, I enjoyed a normal routine: studying at sunrise, resting at sunset. My dorm mates often dropped by, and Wang Yong, accustomed to their visits, gradually became quite friendly with them.

One night, I found myself thinking about Old Ma, Uncle Mao, and Wang Sheng, and started discussing the matter with Wang Yong.

During our conversation, I learned that Tezhen had indeed been kidnapped by the blood clan. Wang Yong had discovered this while he himself was bound. He told me that on the seventeenth of this month, Tezhen would be moved west, forced by the blood clan to draw out the energy within him using his kin’s blood, or else the Smith family would be wiped out entirely.

I never imagined Macas could be so ruthless—and today was the seventeenth. It seemed Tezhen had already been sent west. Under these circumstances, I had to hurry and find Old Ma, Uncle Mao, and Wang Sheng, for they were the leaders of the city’s southern Mao and northern Ma factions. Without them, the East might soon fall into chaos.

At that moment, I thought of Shuāng. Her expression that day was clearly reluctant; so why did she meet with the blood clan archduke? Could it be that Old Ma’s supposed vacation was merely a cover, and he too was under house arrest in this city?

Was the blood clan archduke negotiating with Shuāng? What did she possess that made her valuable? Aside from being the Ma family’s heir and knowing the whereabouts of the demon ancestor Jiang Chen, she knew little else.

Being the Ma family’s heir could be ruled out; even if she held that title, her cultivation was certainly inferior to Old Ma’s. If Old Ma was under house arrest, leaving her behind must be a ploy to extract information—specifically, to discover the whereabouts of our demon corpse ancestor, Jiang Chen.

It’s well known among nightfolk that Jiang Chen is lost in a state of obsession and chaos. Was the night clan planning to exploit this? With this thought on my mind, I knew I couldn’t ignore it. It was time to seek out Fang Pangguo, for apart from myself, he was one of China’s top ten demon corpse kings since ancient times, and surely knew more than I did.

The next day, I went to the Z City police station. Stepping inside, I was struck by its grandeur—far larger than the police station in our small county, a whole office building bustling with police officers, detectives, and staff.

I arrived at the police chief’s office and knocked. A voice from inside called, “Come in!” I pushed the door open. The man sitting at the computer desk was identical to the one I’d seen emerging from the alley that day.

I took out the business card from my pocket, placed it on the desk, and gently slid it toward him without speaking. There was a reason for my silence: if I mentioned what happened that day and he wasn’t Fang Pangguo, he would surely take me for a lunatic and send me off to the hospital.

Luckily, I heard him exclaim, “Oh!” and then, smiling, he said, “Well, who would have thought the legendary eleventh corpse king would be such a virtuous gentleman? Please, have a seat!”

He was indeed Fang Pangguo. He invited me to sit on the sofa opposite and continued, “So, what’s your name, and what brings you here?”

Facing the city’s public security chief, I was so excited I trembled, since the most important official I’d ever met before was a village head. Confronted with someone of this rank, I could hardly adapt.

Nonetheless, I managed to say, “Hello, my name is Hu Xiaodong. I’m a student at Z City’s Archaeology University. You can call me Xiaodong.”

I had no idea how old Fang Pangguo was, so I asked, “Brother, when did you become a demon corpse?”

Fang Pangguo smiled warmly, rose from his desk, and sat beside me. “Actually, I don’t know how old I am. I only know there are three corpse kings above me. I was bitten during the Tang Dynasty. Before me were Xu Fu from the Qin Dynasty, Guo Fangzeng from the Han, and Zhao Fei from the Sui.”

My God—Qin, Han, Sui, Tang—every one of them predates me by over a thousand years.

My mouth formed an O as I stared at Fang Pangguo. He looked every bit the dashing gentleman, yet had lived for over a millennium. No one would believe such a thing, but only nightfolk know it to be true.

Seeing my astonished expression, Fang Pangguo laughed, patted my shoulder, and said, “Xiaodong, don’t be shy about treating me as a friend. Tell me, what brings you here? If I can help, I certainly will.”

I nodded gravely. “Alright. Actually, I came because I heard the blood clan plans to target the demon ancestor. I wanted to hear your thoughts.”

Upon hearing this, Fang Pangguo tsked, looked up at the ceiling, and frowned. “This isn’t the first time the blood clan has tried something like this. Unfortunately, the demon corpse clan is not united—its kings are scattered across the world. To thwart the blood clan’s schemes, the demon corpse clan needs a new leader whose power rivals that of the ancestor Jiang Chen.”

Yet, to this day, no one has succeeded in assuming leadership.

After Fang Pangguo finished, I too frowned at the ceiling. We fell silent, lost in thought.

Just then, I remembered Uncle Mao and Wang Sheng, who had recently moved away.

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