Chapter Forty-Two: Drive, Quickly!

Lin Liuli’s eyes narrowed and her steps froze as she stared blankly at the headless corpse lying on the ground. Chen Hou seemed to have died… rather peacefully, in fact. Aside from the missing head, the rest of his body was almost completely intact. Inspecting the corpse carefully, Lin Liuli couldn’t help but sigh—what a pitiful end.

It was a shame that the head was gone; she couldn’t see the terror that must have twisted his features in his final moments. Lin Liuli knew all too well just how terrifying Luo Luo could be. Yet, what puzzled her was that Chen Hou’s manner of death seemed different from what she’d imagined—there wasn’t a single hole in his body. If Luo Luo had done it, Chen Hou should have been riddled with wounds.

“Could it be… Luo Luo wasn’t the one who did this?” Lin Liuli’s gaze grew sharp. The missing head made her think of something—this looked more like his head had been crushed. Such brutality didn’t fit Luo Luo’s style.

Lifting her head, her long hair cascading down her slender neck, which shimmered faintly in the moonlight, Lin Liuli looked up toward the thirteenth floor. Perhaps there were changes in Du Fang that she knew nothing about.

In that moment, Lin Liuli felt a surge of relief—thank goodness she hadn’t acted back then. She pressed a point between her brows, sending out waves of dream energy. Her dream spirit spread out, enveloping the corpse so that it would not be easily discovered by ordinary people. As for what to do with the corpse… collecting it was out of the question. After all, Chen Hou had come to steal credit, not help.

Instead of heading up to the thirteenth floor, Lin Liuli turned and left the complex, returning to her car. Once inside, she pressed her Bluetooth earpiece and contacted her organization.

“Chen Hou is dead.”
“Send someone to collect the body.”

On the other end, her contact seemed to fall silent for a long while before speaking in a hoarse voice, “But Chen Hou had fused with the Will of the Fallen God… and now he’s dead?”

Cold and succinct as always, Lin Liuli didn’t respond. She simply cut the connection.

…

Du Fang awoke.

That night’s sleep had been truly restful. Deep, dreamless slumbers like that were a rare luxury. Besides an absurd, exhilarating dream where he ruled the universe, Du Fang also dreamt of a magnificent feast—so delicious it left him floating in bliss. The memory made him long to return to sleep and savor it a little longer. But, alas, dreams always come to an end.

Outside, birdsong lingered in the air. The morning sun pierced through the clouds that had shrouded the world all night, spilling golden light across the earth and through his window, like fragments of scattered gold.

Du Fang stretched, his joints cracking and popping. His whole body felt lighter, as if his soul had been cleansed.

“How is it morning already?” he muttered, smacking his lips. He remembered eating the ginger duck that Brother Hou had kindly brought him, then falling asleep… and then the wonderful dreams had begun.

Turning, he noticed his wife’s hand—wearing the ring he had bought for her—resting on his shoulder, forming a heart in greeting, as if to wish him good morning. On the sofa, Luo Luo and her little pig, Qiqi, lounged contentedly, rubbing their bellies.

“Look at this kid, so happy just from eating ginger duck,” he chuckled. “I’ll have to ask Brother Hou to get another one for us—the flavor is so pure, it makes your soul tremble.”

Surveying the spotless remains of the ginger duck, Du Fang stood up and headed next door. He knocked for a long time, but Chen Hou didn’t answer.

“Daddy, Uncle left last night—he left in the middle of the night,” Luo Luo explained sweetly at their own door.

Du Fang was taken aback. “He left in the middle of the night? So suddenly? Did he say when he’d be back?”

“He said the world is so big, he wants to see it all,” Luo Luo replied, blinking her big, adorable eyes. Little pig Qiqi grunted twice in agreement.

“Brother Hou really is one of a kind,” Du Fang sighed. “To just leave like that—how free-spirited. It’s enviable. I couldn’t do that; I have to work and earn money to buy a house for Luo Luo.”

“Well, when Brother Hou comes back, I’ll ask him to bring some local ginger duck again,” he said, stretching before returning inside to prepare breakfast.

After breakfast, Du Fang washed his hair.

“Why does it feel like my hair’s gotten so much longer…” he muttered, drying it off without bothering to style it. Even so, he left the house looking dashing, ready to head to work. His wife’s hand nimbly jumped onto his shoulder, and Luo Luo naturally took his hand. The whole family left together, harmonious and warm.

…

At the entrance to the complex, his young assistant was once again squatting and slurping snail noodles. Perhaps Du Fang was leaving later than usual, or maybe she was just extra hungry today; in any case, she was already on her second bowl. As Du Fang and Luo Luo emerged, she finished her noodles, wiped her mouth, and ran toward them with a look of bliss, deftly spritzing herself with perfume mid-sprint to mask the sour bamboo aroma lingering on her clothes.

“Brother Du, Luo Luo, get in!” Su Xiaoyu beamed, opening the car door. She had switched cars again today—not a coupe this time, but a large, azure blue SUV. The petite assistant looked like she was driving a tank. Yet the engine’s thunderous roar was as wild as ever, making Du Fang suspect that this new vehicle was no less expensive than the previous ones.

They soon pulled up beneath Dream Crossing Tower. Su Xiaoyu drove to the parking lot while Du Fang, holding Luo Luo’s hand, walked toward the building. Suddenly, a long, luxurious car pulled up at the entrance.

The black paint gleamed under the sunlight. It looked like a giant hot dog—Du Fang had never seen a car quite like it and couldn’t help but gaze at it with both curiosity and admiration. A driver, whose professionalism was evident at a glance, opened the door. An elegant, aristocratic old man stepped out, dressed in a black suit, wearing a top hat and gold-rimmed glasses, and carrying a gold-tipped umbrella.

Though his hair was entirely white, the old man’s face was radiant and unlined, exuding warmth and kindness. He lifted his head, admiring the grandeur of the eighty-eight-story Dream Crossing Tower.

“My, what a magnificent sight,” he exclaimed in awe.

Then, his gaze fell on Du Fang. With a gentle, spring-like smile, the old man walked over.

“Young sir, are you one of the noble Dreamwalkers?” he asked softly.

Du Fang smiled shyly, waving his hand. “Noble is too much—I’m just a rookie who got certified a few days ago.”

“Dreamwalkers serve the people, risking their lives for the peace and harmony of society. How can that not be noble?” the old man replied with a smile. Then he continued, “May I ask if you know a Dreamwalker named Zhang Changlin?”

“Captain Zhang? You’re looking for Captain Zhang?” Du Fang was surprised. So this old man knew the captain? No wonder—the captain’s acquaintances all seemed so distinguished.

“Of course I do—he’s my team leader, head of the Silver Squad Wildfire,” Du Fang replied warmly. “Is there something you need from him, sir?”

“Oh, he’s your captain?” The old man’s smile grew even broader. “In that case, never mind. I’ll speak with him personally another day. Farewell, young sir.”

With a graceful flourish, he removed his top hat and gave a courteous bow. “Your daughter is truly adorable,” he added with a final smile before turning and, with surprising haste, reentered his hot dog-shaped limousine.

Du Fang stood in place, smiling and waving in farewell. What a polite, refined, and elegant gentleman. Still, something felt a bit off.

He turned to Luo Luo. “Luo Luo, could that old man see you?”

Luo Luo’s long lashes fluttered as she answered innocently, “I don’t know, either.”

Inside the luxury limousine, the old man slumped back into his seat, his earlier elegance and composure utterly gone. His forehead was slick with sweat as he looked at the chauffeur in the black suit, who was calmly putting on white gloves.

“Lao Chang! Stop dawdling!” the old man shouted, no longer dignified at all. “Drive! Step on it! Get us out of here—now!”