Chapter 29: Master Jiang
Leaving the hospital, it was already late. Yang Haoran thought for a moment, then hailed a taxi back to his convenience store.
Due to the matter of the rotting old woman, the convenience store had not been open for the entire day, meaning no income, and he had even spent a sum of money.
The payment he received from Jiang Zhenzhen was entirely given to the middle-aged man because he had to break open the door. He hadn't told Jiang Zhenzhen about this, so the money was effectively paid out of his own pocket.
Perhaps it was because he harbored a slight fondness for Jiang Zhenzhen, or perhaps because she evoked a feeling of shared hardship in him, but he truly felt embarrassed to ask Jiang Zhenzhen for that money.
Girls, especially pretty ones, often hold a certain advantage. If it had been a man, Yang Haoran might not have tried to earn extra money from him, but he certainly would have demanded reimbursement for the portion he had paid out himself.
Of course, if it were a girl with a less agreeable personality, no matter how beautiful she was, if she didn't suit his taste, Yang Haoran would absolutely never engage in such a losing business, nor would he even bother with such idle matters.
To be serious, Yang Haoran bore an undeniable responsibility for Jiang Zhenzhen's affair. He had taken on the job himself; since he had accepted the work and received payment, he certainly had to provide good after-sales service. If he ignored product quality issues, who would come to him for services in the future?
Back at the convenience store, Yang Haoran immediately went to the Death God statue and offered a devout tribute.
The statue had only been brought back the day before, and already he hadn't offered tribute on time, which filled him with a bit of shame. It was only a little past eight, still some time before midnight. He chose to burn incense and offer tribute at this hour because he had to go out again, and he couldn't be sure if he'd return before twelve, so he could only offer it early.
While burning incense and offering prayers, Yang Haoran explained his reasons, feeling as though an employee was asking his boss for leave.
A moment later, Yang Haoran picked up his yellow Ghost-Hunting Bag, then grabbed a loaf of bread and a bottle of soda from the shelf, and rushed out of the convenience store.
In the taxi, Yang Haoran gnawed on the bread and gulped down the soda, devouring both items in a few ravenous bites. Then he pulled out his phone, found a contact, and sent the person a message.
A moment later, Yang Haoran's phone vibrated, and the ringtone chimed.
"I'm as free as the wind."
The peculiar tune of the song amused the taxi driver. Yang Haoran also smiled, though his smile at that moment didn't seem entirely natural.
Indeed, his smile was quite unnatural then, for something significant weighed on his mind, causing him considerable stress. Especially after seeing the caller ID, his anxiety only intensified.
Though nervous, he took a deep breath and answered the call.
"Young Yang, I'm free. What's so urgent that you're looking for me? " a middle-aged man's voice echoed from the other end of the line, filled with curiosity.
Upon hearing that he was free, Yang Haoran's expression brightened. He quickly said, "I can't explain it clearly over the phone. I'll tell you in person when I get there."
"Alright then, I'll wait for you," the middle-aged man replied, and then hung up.
Listening to the continuous dial tone, Yang Haoran hung up, a sense of relief washing over him. His greatest fear had been hearing the words "not free. " Thankfully, the other party hadn't said them, but rather told him he was available. How could he not be pleased?
Seeing Yang Haoran's cheerful demeanor, the driver beside him couldn't resist teasing, "Brother, are you going to meet your father-in-law? You're so happy."
"You're joking, big brother driver," Yang Haoran replied with a smile. "I'm a lone dog, where would I get a father-in-law?"
"You don't even have a girlfriend. You're almost thirty, aren't you, brother? At this age, you should find someone for yourself. If you keep procrastinating, it'll be troublesome to find anyone later, unless you're very rich, otherwise. . . hehe. " The driver didn't finish his sentence, but Yang Haoran could guess the unspoken implication.
"It seems you're a man of experience, big brother, full of wisdom," Yang Haoran said, flattering him with a smile.
People, you know, all like to hear pleasant things, and this driver was clearly no exception. Hearing Yang Haoran's flattery, he burst into laughter, declaring proudly, "Of course! Your old brother here is almost fifty, and still single. It's hard not to be experienced in this regard, my capabilities just don't allow for it, haha!"
Yang Haoran's mouth twitched slightly. Not daring to say more, he quickly gave a noncommittal laugh.
"We're here, brother. What are you doing coming here late at night? Are you a follower of the Death God too? " the driver asked.
Yang Haoran paid the fare, smiling as he replied, not refuting the driver's assertion.
The taxi had stopped right at the Death God Temple at South Lake Park. Following the concrete road down the mountain, the taxi had taken Yang Haoran all the way to the temple entrance.
Truth be told, Yang Haoran could indeed be considered a follower of the Death God now. Before last night, he was only half a believer, but after witnessing the power of the Death God Pendant, he now truly believed in the Death God and had become one of his followers.
However, though he was a follower of the Death God, he didn't possess the same fanaticism and obsession seen in movie portrayals of such believers.
He believed in the Death God, but his belief was rational.
Under the clear, cold moonlight, Yang Haoran stood before the Death God Temple. It wasn't yet nine o'clock, and people occasionally entered and exited the temple.
Those entering and exiting the Death God Temple at this hour were certainly not sightseers. Without exception, they were all followers of the Death God, which was precisely why the taxi driver had assumed Yang Haoran was one too.
If not a follower of the Death God, what else would one be doing running around here late at night?
Yang Haoran's hurried rush to the Death God Temple naturally had its purpose. The pointy-chinned, monkey-faced young man in the rented room had deeply affected him. He, too, wanted to become an expert like that young man!
If only he could possess abilities like that young man's, he would even be willing to take on that pointy-chinned, monkey-faced appearance!
He yearned to enter that circle, to become a truly capable person, but he couldn't find the way in. Between him and the young man, it was as if an invisible grand door separated them, isolating them into two distinct worlds.
The pointy-chinned, monkey-faced young man had appeared in his world, but hadn't taken him along, closing that invisible grand door behind him. What Yang Haoran wanted to do now was to find a way to approach that door himself, and then open it with his own hands!
It was so late; he couldn't bother with eating or resting, rushing here because he wanted to find a breakthrough at the temple.
He didn't know when other temples closed at night, but this Death God Temple would only close after the midnight incense offering. During the New Year, it would even remain open all night.
Yang Haoran rubbed his somewhat dry face, his fingers grazing a bruise. A sharp pain shot through him, stimulating him, reminding him, and igniting a fervent heat within him. He didn't stop rubbing because of the pain, continuing to vigorously scrub.
A moment later, he felt his fatigue vanish completely, and he appeared much more invigorated. Only the bruise on his face seemed particularly conspicuous under the moonlight.
Looking up at the cold moon hanging high above, Yang Haoran took a deep breath, stepped into the Death God Temple, took out his phone, and dialed a number.
This number was precisely the one that had called him earlier.
"Master Jiang," he said, "I've arrived. I'm truly sorry to disturb you so late. Mm-hmm, alright then, I'll head over now. I'm bothering you, thank you very much."
While on the phone, Yang Haoran fixed on a direction and then quickly hurried over, taking long strides.
About ten minutes later, Yang Haoran appeared inside a small wooden hut.
The small wooden hut was quite simple. Besides a wooden bed, there was only a worn Eight Immortals table, four wooden benches, and a few basic daily necessities.
Yang Haoran sat on a wooden bench. In front of him, on the Eight Immortals table, was a cup of hot tea. Steam rose from the tea, but little aroma wafted from it, clearly indicating it wasn't a fine brew.
As the saying goes, 'one should have proper posture standing and sitting. ' At this moment, Yang Haoran sat ramrod straight, his hands resting on his knees, his face bearing his signature amiable smile. Across from him sat a middle-aged man.
The middle-aged man's attire differed from Yang Haoran's. He wore a Black Robe, whose material seemed unremarkable, yet on the front of the robe, a lifelike Death God was embroidered, covering more than half of its front.
The Black Robe had an attached hood, large and deep, but facing Yang Haoran at this moment, the man had not pulled up the hood, leaving himself completely uncovered.
While the Black Robe appeared mysterious, such attire was nothing special in this Death God Temple. This was because all temple keepers of the Death God Temple here wore this very Black Robe every day. While one might find such an outfit novel upon first sight, after seeing it often enough, there was nothing strange about it.
The man currently seated across from Yang Haoran was one of the temple keepers here at the Death God Temple. The temple keeper Yang Haoran had just called was this very person. He had sought out this temple keeper because he wanted to see if he could obtain some useful information from him.
To be honest, Yang Haoran didn't share a deep relationship with the man before him. They weren't friends, but they were more than mere strangers.
Ever since returning to Lecheng, Yang Haoran frequently visited the Death God Temple, and over time, he had come to know the man before him. Both the Death God Pendant he had lent to Jiang Zhenzhen and the one he had just acquired had been consecrated by this very man.
This time, when facing the rotting old woman, the Death God Pendant had played a very obvious role. Whether such miraculous effects stemmed from the pendant's inherent magic, or from its consecration, or a combination of both, he couldn't yet be certain.
However, his primary purpose for coming to see Master Jiang today was not for this reason.
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