"Dude, you’re really heavy."
Tan Wenbin plopped Lu Yi onto the dorm bed, hands on his hips, gasping for air.
Actually, carrying soone wasn’t that tiring; it was the series of explosive moves from subduing the possessed Lu Yi to leaping at the high heels that had worn him out, leaving him only now catching his breath.
Seeing Lu Yi’s face all dirty with white foam, Tan Wenbin frowned, but still couldn’t bear to leave it that way. He poured so hot water into a basin and squeezed out a towel to wipe him down.
As for Lu Yi’s scraped and bloody knees, feet, and elbows, Tan Wenbin was too lazy to deal with. After all, they were all tough guys, such minor bumps and bruises were nothing to fuss over.
After doing all this, Tan Wenbin poured a cup of water for Lu Yi and placed it on the plastic stool next to the bed. Then he bent down and from a storage box under the bed, he fished out a Harbin red sausage.
Taking a bite, he chewed and said:
"Dude, consider this the exorcism fee and cleaning charge."
Leaving Lu Yi’s dorm, he returned to his own, and as soon as he entered, he saw Brother Xiao Yuan holding a whip, seated at the desk.
That gaze, that aura... tsk tsk, Tan Wenbin suddenly felt that the image of his own father wielding a belt seed too benign in comparison.
Binbin squatted down to the side to observe Yuanzi’s interrogation.
Yuanzi’s gaze was slightly elevated, not on the high heels on the desk, which ant there must be sothing else invisible there.
Scratching his head, Tan Wenbin really wanted to step into the Underworld to take a look.
But he knew that Yuanzi certainly wouldn’t agree.
Yuanzi always warned everyone not to frequently step into the Underworld, only when they encounter sothing very tricky that they must.
But Yuanzi himself would often snap his fingers and pop into the Underworld; in the past, he needed to take a nap and have soone count down and assist him, but now he could do it with his eyes open, managing both the Underworld and the human world without hindrance.
As for this, Tan Wenbin didn’t feel any imbalance in his heart; since their first eting, when he was simply beaten up by his own father while Yuanzi finished all the papers on his desk, he knew that the most significant similarity between him and Yuanzi was that they both looked human.
However, it seed Yuanzi had run into so trouble, like he was having problems with the interrogation.
Li Zhiyuan spoke, "Brother Binbin, burn paper and light candles, lay sand and seek the path."
"Roger that!"
Burning paper and lighting candles were easy to understand, but this ’laying sand and seeking the path’ was pretty much similar to playing "pen fairy."
Just that, Tan Wenbin temporarily forgot whether he should use red or white candles in this process.
Damn it, his brain seed like it returned to his alma mater after the college entrance exam.
Not only had he forgotten much of his high school knowledge, but even the "professional content" he morized before had beco sowhat vague.
Luckily, Tan Wenbin had a way.
He first set a box on the desk, then poured in specially prepared white sand, smoothing the sand’s surface with a ruler. Holding a red candle in his left hand and a white candle in his right, he asked:
"Brother Xiao Yuan, which direction should I place the candle?"
Li Zhiyuan first looked at the red candle in Tan Wenbin’s left hand then cast his gaze towards the southeast corner of the desk.
Right, it was the white candle.
Tan Wenbin arranged everything and lit the candle.
Li Zhiyuan held a piece of yellow paper, ignited it, and waved it in front of him.
Tan Wenbin took his water-drinking porcelain cup to catch the paper ash.
But in an instant, he saw Yuanzi standing up, reaching forward with his left hand and pulling down, then poking the burning yellow paper with his right hand, and finally clasping upwards with his left hand.
In that mont, the yellow paper burnt out, leaving only blue smoke and not even a speck of black ash.
Tan Wenbin’s eyes widened, realizing that in the half-year he had been busy with college entrance exams, Yuanzi hadn’t been idle at all. It was just that because it was too quiet back ho, he didn’t notice Yuanzi’s rapid progress.
In fact, if one were to observe from the perspective of stepping into the Underworld, one would see the boy first pinching the girl’s chin to make her open her mouth, then stuffing the burning talisman paper into her mouth, and finally patting her mouth shut.
The two main functions of yellow paper are to guide and to honor; so feeding it directly to the mouth is like a one-step journey to the stomach.
The girl probably couldn’t "communicate and talk" either because of so special reason or because she had been burned too badly by Tan Wenbin with the black dog blood. Either way, she could do nothing but sit on the desk looking pitiful and shivering.
The feeding of yellow paper had an imdiate effect.
The girl voluntarily reached out to grab the pen placed on the sand tray, her expression determined.
Li Zhiyuan also reached out to grab the pen, but seeing the boy’s outreached hand, the determination on the girl’s face was instantly washed away, and she shrank back, retracting her hand.
The girl’s fear of the boy was so ingrained, it was as if it seeped into her bones.
The Yin Family’s Twelve Techniques were simplified over generations for the convenience of unworthy descendants. By the ti it reached Yin Fuhai, it was basically just a basic version.
Li Zhiyuan’s ability to perform the [Guidance Across the Bridge] was inconceivable to the present-day Yin Family, but actually at the peak of the Yin ancestors, this was the play, aning that when performing this technique, the boy faintly exuded so of Yin Changsheng’s presence.
And Yin Changsheng was considered by many to be the prototype of Emperor Fengdu.
Seeing the girl so frightened of himself, Li Zhiyuan could only turn his head towards Tan Wenbin, pointing at the pen on the sand tray.
Tan Wenbin got the hint, he reached out and held the pen, and the girl, seeing this, reached out again to grab the pen.
Hisss... so cold.
Tan Wenbin felt as if his hand was covered by a block of ice, instantly numbed and devoid of sensation.
At last, the pen started to move.
The tip of the pen was as fine as a hair, and the surface of the white sand was as delicate as paper, allowing large, sloppy strokes as well as fine, precise writing.
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