Old Qi headed back into the messy cluster of shanties. Before long, he returned with two men in tow.
Walking in front was a tall, burly man around thirty-five or thirty-six years old. Beside him was a shrewd-looking short man. Both bore unmistakable implants.
The burly man in particular wore only an undershirt on his upper body. His bare shoulders and one of his arms were clearly prosthetic cybernetic limbs. Dressing like that in this kind of weather made it obvious at a glance that he had a foundation in combat.
As they approached, both scrutinized Chen Chuan with wary, assessing eyes.
"This is the person you said could solve our problem?" Seeing Chen Chuan, the short man seemed thoroughly dissatisfied. "So young? Can he actually handle it?"
The burly man said nothing, merely staring fixedly at Chen Chuan.
Old Qi spoke up casually, "We settled this beforehand. If it isn't resolved properly, we don't take a cent. What do you have to worry about? If you don't want us doing it, we'll turn right around and leave, and you can just wait it out. The pay you offered isn't much anyway—it'd take ten days to half a month before your turn ever came up."
The short man started to argue, but a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder, cutting him off. The burly man looked at Chen Chuan and said, "I trust him."
The short man blinked in surprise. "Big Brother Chong..."
Big Brother Chong looked at Chen Chuan. "Young brother, we'll leave this matter in your hands."
Chen Chuan gave a nod.
Old Qi reacted swiftly, immediately taking the lead. "Young Chen, follow me. It's this shack."
Watching the two walk over, the short man turned and asked, "Big Brother Chong, you believe them?" He couldn't understand why Big Brother Chong, who had been on his side just moments ago, had completely flipped his stance.
Big Brother Chong said, "I trained at a martial arts hall. I can tell that young man is at least a Second Limit fighter..." Seeing the short man looking dazed, he added an explanation:
"He's roughly on par with our hall master."
That clicked instantly for the short man. "Big Brother Chong, you're saying that kid is on the level of Hall Master Jin?"
He felt both skeptical and stunned. He had seen that hall master in action before: with a gentle push of his hand, he could topple a wall; with a casual sweep of his foot, he could knock an entire car aside.
Big Brother Chong had seen the world. He said, "There's nothing strange about it. People with real talent are like that. And for someone like him, making money is easy. There's no reason for him to come here and speak politely to us."
Hearing that, the short man was convinced. Someone with that kind of ability really had no need to swindle them. Teaching martial arts would earn far more than this, and even if he robbed them openly, they wouldn't stand a chance.
By then, Old Qi had brought Chen Chuan to the front of the shack. Chen Chuan glanced at his Second Self and stopped in his tracks. "Old Qi, don't go any closer. I'll go in myself. Head back first."
Old Qi agreed, adding, "I'll wait for you where we were earlier."
Chen Chuan nodded and walked up to the shack. He knocked on the door, but there was no sound from inside.
Sensing the signs of blurring coming from the Second Self, he spoke up: "Xiaoman, you should be able to hear me. Your neighbors and elders asked me to come solve this matter. Could you let me take a look at the situation? I think it might not be necessary to burn your brother's corpse."
After a brief pause, a voice came from behind the door: "You're not lying to me?"
Chen Chuan said, "In fact, burning your brother's body isn't a good idea, because it very likely can't be burned at all. I won't know the details until I see it."
After a few minutes of waiting, the door cracked open a sliver. A pair of eyes scrutinized him closely, then glanced outside. Seeing that he was alone, the boy opened the door a bit wider. "Come in."
Chen Chuan stepped inside. Before him stood a frail youth sporting heavy dark circles under his eyes, his expression tense as he held a handgun trained forward.
Chen Chuan paid the weapon no mind. Just then, he noticed that one side of the Second Self's form was exhibiting pronounced signs of blurring. Turning toward a wardrobe on one side, he asked, "What's kept in there?"
Xiaoman replied, "Nothing, just a few everyday clothes."
Chen Chuan walked over and pulled the wardrobe door open. Xiaoman froze—inside stood a mannequin dressed in his brother's clothes. At first glance, it looked strikingly like his brother.
"This is..."
Xiaoman was utterly bewildered; he had no memory of such a thing being in the house.
Chen Chuan said, "Xiaoman, you buried your brother, didn't you?"
Xiaoman nodded vigorously.
Chen Chuan looked at him. "Go check again and see if your brother is still in there."
Xiaoman went rigid. A sudden wave of terror and confusion washed over him. In a panicked rush, he grabbed a shovel from against the wall and sprinted toward the backyard. Before long, the sound of labored breathing and digging echoed from outside.
Chen Chuan remained where he was, unmoving. If this was what he suspected, he could not get directly involved; Xiaoman had to handle it himself.
Ten or so minutes later, a cry of dismay rang out from the yard.
Chen Chuan followed the sound and found Xiaoman kneeling beside a dirt pit. The shovel lay discarded to one side, and the boy was frantically rummaging through the empty hole. "Where's my brother? My brother..." He turned furiously toward Chen Chuan, pointing an accusing finger. "You—was it you people? Did you dig up my brother?"
Chen Chuan said patiently, "Calm down. If someone had dug up your brother, there wouldn't have been any reason to hire me to come here."
Xiaoman blinked, momentarily stunned. He scrambled to his feet, spun around in frantic circles, and cried out anxiously, "Then where is my brother? Where did he go?"
Chen Chuan looked at him and said, "Do you want to hear the real answer?"
"I want to hear it! I want to hear it! Tell me, quickly!" Desperation was written all over Xiaoman's face.
Chen Chuan said, "According to the records, your brother died in a gang conflict ten days ago. You received and confirmed the news the next day. But three days later, you found that your brother had come back to life. Is that right?"
Xiaoman nodded.
Chen Chuan continued, "On that third day, where did you find your brother?"
"At home," Xiaoman answered.
Chen Chuan gave a low affirmation, looking intently at the boy. "Did anyone from his gang ever bring your brother's corpse back?"
Xiaoman's hands began to tremble.
Chen Chuan nodded slowly. "It seems not. Your brother's body was never returned. What you saw was never your brother at all—it was that thing you saw just now from the start." He looked toward the wardrobe inside the house, toward the mannequin.
Xiaoman screamed, "Impossible! Impossible! That was my brother, I know the difference..."
Chen Chuan had encountered similar things before, like the wooden puppet that had taken the place of Bureau Director Lei's son. In essence, however, this was different: that one had merely scrambled mental perceptions, whereas this one was a genuinely manifested urban legend.
Yet the emotional attachment to family was identical in both cases.
He spoke in a gentle, measured tone: "Because your brother never came back, you refused to believe he was dead. In your heart, you still held onto the hope that he would return alive one day. And then, 'he' appeared, taking your brother's place.
"But 'he' isn't real after all. Your brother's body might still be out there somewhere. Perhaps you should try to find out where it went, instead of clinging to a fake."
Tears streamed down Xiaoman's face. He looked up at Chen Chuan. "Big brother, is everything you said true?"
Chen Chuan said earnestly, "Xiaoman, you're smart. You should know I'm not wrong."
Xiaoman suddenly seemed at a complete loss. But after a brief pause, he wiped the tears and snot from his face with the back of his hand, looked up, and asked, "Then, big brother, what should I do? With that..." He pointed toward the wardrobe.
Chen Chuan said, "Just bury it. This is an urban legend. Even if you're fine for the time being, if this thing continues to exist, everyone will die because of it. That includes you, though you might be the last to go."
Xiaoman shivered all over, an edge of nervousness creeping into his voice. "B-but what I buried before was that thing, wasn't it...?"
"That was because you saw it as your brother back then. You didn't truly want it to leave you, so even after you buried it, it remained by your side."
Chen Chuan looked at him steadily. "Now that you know the truth and have confirmed it isn't your brother, only you can put an end to this urban legend by burying it with your own hands. No one else can do it, and no one else can resolve it for you."
Xiaoman puffed out his frail chest. "If that's what it takes, I'll do it." He ran inside, hauled the mannequin out, and dragged it with great effort toward the backyard.
Chen Chuan did not step in to help. Since the phenomenon had been triggered by Xiaoman, it could only be resolved by Xiaoman; an outsider could not interfere.
In truth, if Xiaoman were to die, the urban legend might also dispel to some degree. If left unaddressed, there was no telling whether things would eventually deteriorate to that point.
Yet that was hardly a good solution. Given that the urban legend had assumed the role of Xiaoman's brother, Xiaoman's death might very well trigger an even worse catastrophe.
Besides, the mannequin couldn't have appeared here out of thin air. Since Xiaoman had never seen it before, his brother must have brought it home.
Why would he have brought such a thing back?
Recalling the mannequin's appearance, Chen Chuan considered a possibility, though pursuing it now was pointless.
He waited a while longer. As the scraping sounds of earth being shoveled echoed from the backyard, the blurring over the Second Self gradually faded away.
He dealt with urban legends primarily to stimulate his mutated tissue, but it depended on the nature of the entity. This type was impossible to capture, and its influence on the outside world wasn't overwhelming yet—otherwise, the people outside wouldn't have survived up to now. Because of that, he didn't dwell on it too much.
A long while later, Xiaoman walked out covered in dirt. His emotional state seemed much more stable. Looking up at Chen Chuan, he asked, "Big brother, I've buried it. Is everything okay now?"
Chen Chuan said, "It's resolved. You did well, Xiaoman."
Xiaoman said, "Thank you, big brother."
Chen Chuan patted his slender shoulder. "You're very brave, Xiaoman. Let's go outside and let them know the matter has been handled."
"Mm!"
Big Brother Chong, Old Qi, and the others had already been waiting outside for over an hour. With no sound coming from within the shack, the short man had been muttering incessantly, "Can he really do it?"
Old Qi couldn't help feeling a little uneasy himself, but on the surface he maintained an air of supreme confidence. It wasn't entirely an act, either; Chen Chuan was a student of Wuyi, and Old Qi had witnessed his capabilities firsthand. Nothing should go wrong.
"The door's opening!" the short man yelled.
Chen Chuan emerged right behind Xiaoman. He caught Old Qi's gaze and gave a nod. Old Qi let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Xiaoman walked up to Big Brother Chong and said apologetically, "Uncle Chong, Big Brother Ding, Aunt Hua... I'm sorry for causing everyone trouble."
The short man said, "Ah, don't talk like that, Xiaoman. Back when your big brother was around, he looked after us a lot. We understand how you felt, it's just..."
Xiaoman wiped his nose. "Big Brother Ding, the big brother told me everything. That wasn't my brother. I won't cause problems for everyone anymore."
Chen Chuan said, "The anomalous situation has been resolved. You can wait a few days to verify it before paying the commission fee."
"No need,"
Big Brother Chong said solemnly. "Seeing Xiaoman walk out with you is enough. We trust you."
Old Qi stepped forward at the right moment. "Well then, everyone, shall we proceed as we agreed earlier?"
"Of course," Big Brother Chong said. He instructed the short man, "Xiao Ding, give them the rest of the payment."
Xiao Ding grumbled under his breath, pulled a stack of cash from behind his waistband, and handed it over. At Old Qi's insistence, they had pooled cash this time so it wouldn't go through the platform, leaving no transaction record to trace.
Old Qi took the money and counted it, confirming the amount was correct. Remembering something, he cautioned them:
"Keep this in mind: don't try to get back the deposit you put on the commission platform. You won't get it back anyway, and doing so will only bring trouble upon yourselves, and possibly me as well. We're heading out."
Chen Chuan gave the crowd a nod, acknowledged Xiaoman with a faint nod as well, and left with Old Qi. Soon after, they climbed into the car and drove back the way they had come.
Chen Chuan took out a small notebook and a pen. After a moment's thought, he jotted down the words: *A Vessel for Kinship*. This had become a habit of his; he recorded every urban legend he encountered, intending to compile them into dossiers just like Cheng Zitong.
Old Qi was in high spirits. Although the payout this time wasn't huge, it proved Chen Chuan's capability, which meant they could take on more commissions in the future. He said, "Young Chen, how about seventy percent for you and thirty for me? Does that sound fair?"
Chen Chuan said, "A fifty-fifty split is fine."
The money mattered, but relatively speaking, being able to make use of an urban legend was far more important than earning cash. If an urban legend could stimulate his mutated tissue, the medicine he saved on would easily outweigh the commission.
Old Qi thought it over, then said solemnly, "To tell you the truth, Young Chen, I'm really strapped for cash right now. I'll swallow my pride and accept. I'll find a way to repay what I owe you later... So, where to now?"
Chen Chuan said, "It's getting late. I'll head back to the academy first."
"All right, I'll drop you off."
Less than half an hour after their departure, an armored off-road vehicle slowly drove up and stopped at the entrance of the shantytown.
Inside the car, a man wearing halo-sheen clothing with spiky hair pointing straight up asked, "Is this the place?"
"That's right. The commission points right here."
"What a shithole. Dachen, get out and finish this quickly. I need to get back for dinner."
"Understood."
The door swung open, and a man with a vicious expression wearing a baseball cap stepped out of the vehicle. Holding a blade in hand, he walked toward the shack where Xiaoman lived.
Chapter 239