Chapter Seventy-Four: Undercurrents Stir

Fu Yang gazed at the writhing, fresh fish in the pond and sighed, “If only we could scoop them up and eat them, I bet they'd taste amazing.”

“Eat your amazing! Who knows which one of them is a monster—be careful, or it’ll eat you instead,” Ah Huang snapped, glaring at him. He instructed the workers not to stop yet, nor to go down carelessly. Drain the water a bit more.

With a sputter, the thick suction pipes finally started pumping out sludge, nearly mud soup by now, and several of the big water pumps were shut off.

At last, the bottom of the pond was fully exposed to everyone. The air was thick with the stench of black slime; large fish, shrimp, and crabs were hopping about atop it.

Ah Huang activated his “Evil Sight” once more, sweeping his gaze over the pond, but detected nothing unusual.

“Could the monster be living in the sludge?”

Zhao Shanshan and Fu Yang asked if he’d found anything, and he could only answer honestly.

But clearing the muck would be troublesome—it meant going down into the pond to clean it out by hand. It would be time-consuming, exhausting, and possibly dangerous.

What to do?

In the end, Fu Yang gritted his teeth. “If nothing else works, you and I will go in ourselves. Better us than risking ordinary people’s lives.”

“Fu Yang… are you sure?” Zhao Shanshan frowned, worried about him. Yet from a rational and professional standpoint, it was indeed the best solution.

Fu Yang managed to persuade her, though Ah Huang wore a face of misery.

“How noble of you, but I absolutely loathe filthy, sticky muck like this!”

Without further words, after probing to find the sludge was about half a meter deep, both men donned the long rubber suits used by the dredging workers.

The thick pant legs reached all the way to their chests, with two straps fastened over the shoulders.

With help from the officers, they carefully descended into the pond.

Fu Yang slid down the sloped bank, stepping into the sludge.

For efficiency, they started from opposite ends of the pond, moving toward the center.

The black muck rose above their knees, making every step exhausting, the stench nearly unbearable. Fish leapt about; if you weren’t careful, they’d smack into you, splattering mud all over your face and hands.

Fu Yang probed the sludge with a long iron rod…

Suddenly, Ah Huang let out a scream from across the pond!

“Damn it!”

He toppled forward, tossing his iron rod aside…

The officers watching all jumped—something had happened?

Fu Yang’s face changed, and he shouted, “I’m coming!” and slogged his way toward Ah Huang.

When he reached him, the man had already gotten up by himself, his head and face caked in foul black mud, cursing as he spat it out.

“Ugh, disgusting! Got a mouthful of mud!”

“No monster?” Fu Yang realized that it probably hadn’t been a monster after all.

“No monster! Just some tree root from the pond’s edge, stretching in to soak up water. I tripped over it in the sludge. I’m done, I’m done, let’s get out of here. Damn you, Fu Yang, with your rotten ideas…”

With the search unable to continue, the two had to return to shore.

Zhao Shanshan, seeing their miserable state, bit her lip. “Maybe we should just use the brute-force method and send in the workers to clear all the muck.”

Ah Huang waved her off, saying he’d come up with another plan.

“What plan?”

“The monster’s already started eating people. Once it’s had a taste, it’s hard to stop. Tonight, we’ll set bait and fish it out.”

Fu Yang nodded thoughtfully. “But what about the bait…”

He noticed Ah Huang looking at Zhao Shanshan.

“What! You want Shanshan to be bait and draw out the monster? No way, too dangerous! I won’t allow it.”

Fu Yang quickly refused.

Was he joking? How could he bear to let Zhao Shanshan act as bait? He decided to stick with her plan of clearing the sludge.

Ah Huang looked at him with a half-smile, as if to say: Who are you to her? What right do you have to decide?

“I agree! Let me be the bait and lure the monster out.”

Fu Yang wanted to protest, but Zhao Shanshan looked at him gently and said, “Don’t worry, Fu Yang. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself. Boxing, martial arts, grappling, firearms—I’m number one in Jiangcheng Police Department.”

He was stunned.

He’d forgotten that Zhao Shanshan, for all her gentle appearance, was in fact a formidable fighter.

“All right, it seems we have no other choice,” Fu Yang said helplessly.

With that, the detective squad and the botanical garden staff wrapped up for the day. Hundred Trees Garden remained cordoned off with yellow tape…

Meanwhile, in a luxurious suite of a five-star hotel somewhere in Jiangcheng, the evil Southeast Asian shaman, Tukacha, had already finished his meditation and practice. On the sofa opposite him sat a man wearing a fierce, ghost-face mask, with a wound on the back of his right hand.

He was none other than the true source and mastermind behind the drowned student’s nightmare at Jiang University—Sanlu Master, the expelled Maoshan disciple, Liu Mengshu!

“Master Tukacha, it’s been many years. Your shamanic arts have advanced quite a bit.”

Liu Mengshu’s voice was gentle and refined, like a nobleman’s. That was no surprise; he was born the legitimate son of a country squire, married into a wealthy business family, and belonged to the upper class of the Republic era.

He and the shaman had known each other!

Tukacha laughed with a guttural cackle, the bone rings pierced through his face jingling.

“Evil Daozi, it’s been over twenty years, hasn’t it? You still look so young. Chinese Daoist arts—truly profound.”

Liu Mengshu sipped his tea calmly. His cold eyes stared through the mask’s holes at Tukacha. He spoke slowly, “Master Tukacha, you came all the way to China, and specifically to Jiangcheng to meet me—what guidance do you have? Or are you here to challenge me? Didn’t I beat you badly enough twenty years ago?”

Tukacha chuckled, saying he wouldn’t dare provoke Evil Daozi.

“There’s a big figure who wants to meet you!”

“Oh? How big…”

Liu Mengshu was interrupted mid-sentence. Suddenly his expression changed, and he barked toward the door, “Who’s there?!”

But the doorway was clearly empty!

Just then, a soft sound.

A ball of black flame appeared in Liu Mengshu’s hand. With a flick, it shot toward the door, erupting in bursts of dark fire.

A graceful woman’s silhouette slowly materialized from within.

Liu Mengshu frowned, “Phasing and invisibility?”

“Evil Daozi, you’re truly astute, seeing through my little trick right away.”

With a melodious, slightly lazy female voice, a woman approached them. She was shrouded in a black cloak, with a hood covering half her face.

To Liu Mengshu’s surprise, the usually wild, arrogant Tukacha actually bowed his head slowly before her.

“Tukacha greets the Commander.”