Chapter Forty-Four: A Crime Committed by Someone Familiar

The county seat was about forty kilometers from Mount Gehong. Chen Jin drove swiftly, reaching the base of the mountain in just an hour, a little past three o’clock.

As the foothills came into view, his phone rang. It was Chen Lan’s number again.

“How do you want the money?” Chen Jin asked.

“Keep the money for yourself. All we want is you.”

Knock, knock, knock—

Someone was rapping on the car window. Chen Jin glanced over and saw two men standing outside, both dressed in bright yellow windbreakers. Their faces were uncovered, exuding a brazen confidence.

“Get out,” ordered one of them, a scar running beneath his left eyebrow.

Chen Jin nodded, making no attempt at trickery, and stepped out of the car.

The scarred man gestured for his companion to handcuff Chen Jin’s wrists. Then they led him up the slopes of Mount Gehong.

This mountain, once known to Chen Jin as Gaoping Mountain, was not particularly tall, like many others around Xialake—lush with greenery, though bare rocks jutted here and there. Chen Jin’s gaze swept the area, but the scarred man shoved him up the mountain without ceremony.

He recognized the direction immediately—they were heading for the cave where Gehong once refined elixirs.

It seemed their aim truly wasn’t money. But on what grounds had they determined his connection to this mountain?

“You’re awfully inquisitive,” the scarred man grumbled, displeased.

He produced a blindfold and tied it over Chen Jin’s eyes. Fortunately, they hadn’t threatened to gouge his eyes out; otherwise, Chen Jin would have ensured they learned just how quickly wildflowers could bloom on their graves.

Though his sight was blocked, his other senses remained keen—touch, hearing, smell, and even his intuition. He sensed they weren’t taking the main trail but a newly cut path, fragrant with fresh blossoms and the scent of turned earth.

Half an hour later, they arrived at the cave on Mount Gehong where elixirs had once been refined.

The blindfold was removed, though his hands remained shackled. At last, Chen Jin could see what awaited him.

The cave was that same one, now a tourist site, but today there were no visitors. Instead, two young women were bound within, and five men—each dressed meticulously. The ringleader was the very man Chen Jin had seen in the video call, wearing a hat and mask.

He sat atop a tea table in the cave. Chen Jin didn’t recall such a thing existing here in the old days; likely, it was a later addition. The only authentic features were the spring and the tools Gehong had once used to wash and prepare medicinal herbs.

“Would you care for some tea?” the masked man said in a muffled voice.

“I can’t exactly drink like this,” Chen Jin replied, lifting his shackled hands.

“There’s no need to pretend in front of me. Your spirit is overflowing, your energy refined in bone and sinew. Breaking these iron cuffs should be child’s play for you, shouldn’t it?” the masked man remarked.

“What do you want?” Chen Jin asked, giving his wrists a light twist. Sure enough, the steel cuffs snapped apart.

As he broke free, Chen Lan and Lin Qing stared at him in utter disbelief, while the other men in the cave, alarmed, drew pistols from their waistbands—only the masked man remained seated, unmoved.

“You’re very confident,” Chen Jin said, frowning at him.

The masked man chuckled softly.

To hell with your laughter! Chen Jin lunged at him.

His energy surged forth, filling the cave with power. The six men with guns collapsed as if struck by a heavy blow. Chen Jin seized the masked man by the throat.

“Still laughing?” he asked.

The masked man stared at him in shock—how had the situation changed so abruptly?

“You’re not practicing Energy Extraction?” the masked man exclaimed.

“That’s your business,” Chen Jin replied, disappointment tinging his tone.

“You…”

“You should sleep for a bit,” Chen Jin said, bringing his palm down on the man’s forehead.

The masked man fell unconscious instantly.

Chen Jin tossed him aside and hurried to Chen Lan and Lin Qing, tearing the tape from their mouths and untying their bonds.

Freed, the two women gazed at him in amazement and horror, their worldview shattered. Chen Lan managed to compose herself, but Lin Qing was utterly stunned.

“Are you both alright?” Chen Jin broke the silence.

“We… we’re fine. Bro, just now, you…” Chen Lan stammered.

“I’m cultivating immortality,” Chen Jin replied.

“Cultivating… immortality? Am I dreaming?” Chen Lan rubbed her eyes.

Chen Jin nodded. “Yes.”

“Rest here for a while. I have questions to ask.” With that, Chen Jin turned to deal with the masked man.

He ripped off the man’s mask, revealing a face he didn’t recognize—yet there was something vaguely familiar.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Chen Jin slapped him thrice, waking him.

“I’ll ask you some questions. Answer truthfully, or you won’t live to regret it,” Chen Jin threatened without a trace of bloodlust.

The masked man met his gaze in silence.

“I have a technique to extract a man’s soul directly. If I use it, I’ll know all I wish to know. Care to try?” Chen Jin bluffed—though he truly did know such a spell, it required a higher level of mastery to use.

The masked man looked at him disdainfully, as if to say, “Do you take me for a fool?”

Smack!

Another slap from Chen Jin.

“The recent disappearances among the group members—was that your doing?” Chen Jin demanded.

He took out his phone, snapped a picture of the man’s face, and sent it to the group chat.

Clouded Mountains: [Image] Does anyone recognize this man?

Ding!

A notification chimed from the masked man’s own phone.

“So you’re one of the group members,” Chen Jin said with a wry smile, retrieving the man’s phone.

Using the man’s fingerprint, he unlocked it—not to check WeChat, but the contacts and call logs.

The man was either a fool or overconfident, believing himself untouchable—otherwise, he wouldn’t have brought his own phone to such an affair.

His contact list was sparse: parents, an older sister, a brother-in-law, a younger brother, his “goddess”—and that was all.

Looking at the recent call history, Chen Jin saw the last call had been made just ten minutes earlier to a contact saved as “Brother-in-law.”

Smack!

Chen Jin knocked the masked man out again to prevent any interference.

He dialed the number.

After a few rings, the call connected.

“Hello? Xiao Quan, what is it?”

A familiar voice.

It was Zhang Hui!

…