leonardwarren Chapter 1 Chaotic World
Chapter 1 Chaotic World
The 37th year of the Republic of China (1948).
Cangzhou, autumn.
In front of the vermilion gate of the Zhao residence, a crowd gathered in layers, craning their necks, their faces showing a mixture of fear and curiosity.
A few patrol officers managed to maintain order, their shouts sounding weak and feeble amidst the clamor of voices.
A gleaming black car stopped a short distance away, and Zhou Tong got out.
The cool autumn breeze, carrying the smell of sweat and a strange fishy odor from the crowd, made his stomach churn.
He frowned, trying to suppress his discomfort, and pushed through the crowd to get closer.
One by one, the bodies covered with white sheets were carried out by the patrol officers. His gaze was fixed on one of them—the white sheet had slipped down a corner, revealing a face he knew well.
It's Zhao Mingyuan.
There was no blood, no wounds, but extreme terror remained on the young face, his features contorted, as if he had seen the most horrific sight in the world before he died.
Zhou Tong stared intently at that face, a chilling coldness, like a live snake, suddenly surged up from his tailbone and spread rapidly across his entire back.
He subconsciously closed his eyes, took a deep breath, stopped looking, turned around and went back to the car, placing his hand on the car body.
The cold, metallic body of the car conveyed a sense of solidity, slowly calming his wildly beating heart.
Soon, the servant Afu squeezed through the gaps in the crowd and came to his side.
"Young Master..." Afu's face was pale, and his voice was very low. "I found out that the entire Zhao family, including the guards, maids, cooks... a total of twenty-three people, are all gone."
They all died this way, without any injuries... It's like, like they were scared to death. Everyone says... they encountered something unclean..."
Zhou Tong nodded stiffly, his throat tightening slightly.
Zhao Mingyuan's face, which always carried a somewhat cynical smile, was now exceptionally clear in his mind.
Three days ago, he enthusiastically invited me to go hiking in the mountains west of the city, but I declined for some reason.
Yesterday, Zhao Mingyuan returned from outside the city and called me late at night. His voice was trembling and he was incoherent, saying that he felt like something was watching him in the dark, and he was afraid that he had been possessed by an evil spirit. He said he was going to find a powerful Taoist priest to exorcise the evil spirit...
He came to visit today, intending to offer some words of comfort, but he didn't expect to see such a scene.
"If I had gone three days ago, would the outcome have been the same?!"
A chill ran through Zhou Tong. He turned to look at Afu, his voice hoarse. "Afu, are there really unclean things in this world?"
A hint of fear flashed across Afu's face, and he subconsciously twisted the cuff of his mandarin jacket:
"Young master, these are turbulent times. There are many rumors circulating in the countryside—weasels, fox spirits, some true, some false… But something like this, happening so quietly in the city…"
He swallowed hard and didn't say anything more.
Zhou Tong remained silent, feeling a tightness in his chest. He took one last look at the wide-open vermilion gate, then turned and got into the car.
Afu carefully closed the car door and instructed the driver, "Return to the residence."
As the car moved forward, it left the area shrouded in the shadow of death far behind, and the scenery outside the window gradually became vivid and noisy.
Along the street, the neon sign of "Renji Pharmacy" across the street is reflected in the glass window of a Western-style clock shop;
In the distance, the gray spire of the church and the vermilion eaves of the Chinese restaurant were cut off by several haphazardly laid black power lines.
On the street, modern women in long gowns, suits, and cheongsams thronged the streets.
The shouts of newsboys, the jingling of rickshaw bells, and the calls of peddlers all came rushing in at once.
But all of this appeared to Zhou Tong as if separated by an invisible membrane; the prosperity remained, but it could no longer bring him the leisure of the past.
Zhao Mingyuan's distorted face, like a ghost, superimposed on this glitz and glamour.
Zhou Tong looked out the window in silence, seemingly lost in thought.
Afu and the driver, observing the situation, did not dare to disturb them.
As the vehicle left the bustling city, the scenery outside the window gradually became dilapidated.
The streets were narrow, the houses were low, and various vendors crowded the roads. The air was filled with the mixed smells of food, sweat, and cheap tobacco.
On the edge of this clamor, a group of silent figures huddled together—they were ragged, pale, and had vacant eyes, huddled in a corner with their families, completely out of place with the surrounding noise.
Afu noticed Zhou Tong's gaze and quickly explained, "I heard there's a severe drought in the south, and these are people who fled from there."
"Stop the car," Zhou Tong suddenly said.
Looking at those numb faces and recalling Zhao Mingyuan's miserable state, he felt an inexplicable urge to learn more.
Zhao Mingyuan encountered evil spirits outside the city, and these people, who had fled all the way here, probably know more.
The car came to a stop on the side of the road.
Zhou Tong gestured to Afu: "Go, ask that fellow villager who looks like the leader to come over and talk to him."
Afu responded and left. Before long, he returned with a middle-aged man whose face was weathered and whose eyes were etched with deep lines.
The man, dressed in a tattered padded jacket and covered in dust, bowed repeatedly to Zhou Tong with a humble demeanor.
"Fellow villager, you must have had a long journey." Zhou Tong looked into his cloudy but not completely numb eyes. "You came from the south?"
"Replying to your question, sir," the man's voice was hoarse, "we fled from southern Shandong."
"Are you sure you've encountered anything unusual along the way? Like demons or something?" Zhou Tong asked directly, without beating around the bush.
Upon hearing this, the man's facial muscles twitched, and a deep fear welled up in his eyes.
He licked his chapped lips and said in a low voice, "When the master asked... I dared not lie. I have seen it, more than once."
His voice trembled with lingering fear: "One night, we were crossing an old forest. When we took a headcount at dawn, three people were missing. Later... we found them at the edge of the forest. Black insects kept swarming out of their eyes, noses, and mouths, and in the blink of an eye... they were just skin and bones..."
Zhou Tong's heart skipped a beat, and he clenched his fists silently.
The man continued, "Another time, we were crossing a shallow swamp. We came out fine, but in the middle of the night, several people suddenly sprouted red hairs all over their bodies. They were itchy and in pain, and they jumped into the water screaming. They never came back up..."
Zhou Tong felt an even deeper chill down his spine.
"However," the man's tone shifted, his fear still lingering, but with a deeper bitterness, "these evil things mostly hide in uninhabited wilderness, so their harm to people is limited, otherwise I wouldn't have survived. If we're really afraid of something... we're more afraid of the bandits on the road, and those defeated soldiers... they're the real devils, they devour people without spitting out the bones."
Zhou Tong remained silent.
"Why does the master ask about these things?" the man asked, regaining his composure.
When Zhou Tong mentioned the recent massacre of Zhao Mingyuan's family, which he suspected was caused by an evil spirit outside the city, the man's brows furrowed sharply, and he muttered:
"It seems this place... isn't safe either. We'll have to keep heading north."
Ah Fu, who was listening nearby, was displeased and scolded, "Stop talking nonsense! Cangzhou City has high walls and thick guards. Moreover, our Cangzhou has a thriving martial arts culture. We even have great martial arts masters whose bodies can withstand bullets. Such people have vigorous blood and energy. What evil spirits would dare to approach them? They are very safe!"
Zhou Tong raised his hand to stop Afu, looked at the man's weathered face, and asked, "Going north...where will it end?"
The man raised his head, gazing at the gray sky to the north, his eyes empty yet filled with a tenacious spirit like that of a blade of grass: "Making a living, making a living... Once I reach a place where I can survive, I can stop."
Zhou Tong didn't know what to say, so he gave Afu a look.
Afu quickly reached into his pocket, took out some change, and handed it to the man.
The man accepted the gift with profuse thanks and then withdrew.
Zhou Tong returned to the car, leaned back in the soft seat, and looked gloomy.
Amidst the chaotic times, eerie demons, and fragile lives, this seemingly impregnable city no longer appears safe.
A chilling sense of urgency suddenly gripped his heart.
We must become strong as soon as possible!
Thinking of this, Zhou Tong's eyes narrowed slightly, and a transparent box appeared in front of him.
Name: Zhou Tong
Technique: None
The box in front of him appeared a month ago after he awakened his memories of his past life. It has a section on cultivation techniques, so it should be related to martial arts.
After awakening his memories of his past life, Zhou Tong no longer indulged in pleasure as before.
With warlords everywhere, bandits swarming, and foreigners knocking on the gates... all these things made him feel very insecure. He didn't know why he had been so slow to react and had even the mood to have fun before.
At that time, he asked his father if he could learn martial arts from the family's guards.
In my memory, my father had mentioned to me three years ago that I should learn martial arts, but at that time I thought that learning martial arts was too hard and tiring, and that it was more pleasant to listen to music and walk birds, so I refused directly.
When Zhou Tong brought up the old matter again, his father was very pleased, feeling that his son had finally come to his senses and become sensible, and immediately agreed.
However, his father said that the family's guards were unorthodox and not from a proper background, and asked him to wait patiently for some time, saying that he would find a better place for him.
The "good place" his father had mentioned before, judging by the dates, is about time to go.
Zhou Tong's expression hardened, the slight confusion in his eyes replaced by a calm determination. He said to the driver in a deep voice, "Return to the mansion."