Chapter 99.2

When it was Tan Wenbin’s turn, he went all in, but a few cans at the bottom remained standing.

Last up was Lin Shuyou. His basketball spun as it flew, landing right in front of the stack and knocking every single can over.

He won a large bunny doll and, with the pride of a child offering treasure, handed it to Li Zhuiyuan.

Li Zhuiyuan beamed as he hugged the bunny to his chest.

Under his breath, he muttered, “If you keep showing off like that, I’ll send you back to school.”

Lin Shuyou froze for a second, then quickly nodded like a pecking chick.

Next up was the ring toss. Li Zhuiyuan tossed casually and didn’t land a single one.

Tan Wenbin did decently, spending enough money for five bottles and successfully looping one.

As for Lin Shuyou, he mimicked Li Zhuiyuan this time, deliberately missing on purpose.

These stalls were run by members of the acrobat troupe. Drawing too much attention here would be unwise, especially with real skill—nothing would be more foolish than standing out now.

Li Zhuiyuan also noticed a pattern with the stall owners: they were particularly enthusiastic when children were brought along. That was expected, since kids were big spenders—but their attention wasn’t on the children. Their eyes scanned the accompanying adults, as though evaluating something.

They were even more enthusiastic when both parents came along.

This wasn’t Li Zhuiyuan being paranoid. Their behavior clearly varied by group.

That sparked his curiosity. Even if the entire acrobat troupe were traffickers, shouldn’t they be focused on the “quality” of the children?

Especially those wandering alone or brought by just a grandparent or mother—those should be prime targets.

This didn’t make logical sense.

Li Zhuiyuan began to suspect that the goal behind their child trafficking wasn’t what he’d assumed.

Once they were done outside, the three bought tickets and entered the “Vase Lady” tent.

On a stage sat a square wooden platform. In its center stood a vase, and atop that vase was a woman. In front of her, a microphone.

She looked like just a head sitting there, propped up in a vase.

There were quite a few other people inside too. The Vase Lady sang songs and chatted a bit.

As long as you had a ticket, there was no time limit—you could leave whenever you got bored.

Tan Wenbin and Lin Shuyou leaned forward eagerly. Despite the mission, and the fact this was enemy territory, curiosity still won out.

Afterward, Tan Wenbin cleared his throat while Lin Shuyou rubbed his face. They pretended that their enthusiastic viewing was just part of blending in.

But after exchanging a look, curiosity got the better of them, and Tan Wenbin leaned down to ask Li Zhuiyuan,

“Xiaoyuan-ge, how’s that trick done?”

“Glad you didn’t ask me if she was real.”

“Well, I’m not an idiot,” Tan Wenbin replied sheepishly. Most dead folks lose their heads—they don’t live on as a disembodied one.

“There’s a pair of angled mirrors set under the wooden grid. The woman’s actually standing underneath. She just positions her neck through the opening. To keep the illusion intact, they rope off the area so no one can get too close. They also elevate the table to give her a higher vantage point.”

“Ohhh…”

“Ohhh…”

Both of them wore enlightened expressions.

Li Zhuiyuan couldn’t help but wonder how these two managed to get into college without being able to figure out something so basic.

But just then, he stopped walking. Something felt off. A faint wisp of black crept into his peripheral vision.

He turned around and looked at Lin Shuyou. Sure enough, Lin Shuyou had also stopped and closed his eyes.

If he opened them again, there was a good chance they’d turn into vertical pupils.

Li Zhuiyuan wasn’t sure if this was a trait of the Officer-Commander Head, or if Lin Shuyou simply couldn’t control his spirit medium ritual well.

“Binbin-ge.”

“Got it.”

Tan Wenbin reached into Lin Shuyou’s clothes and stuck a CaCalming Talisman on his back.

The talisman dispelled evil energies. Even though the Officer-Commander Head had turned over a new leaf, its origins were still that of a malevolent spirit, so the talisman still worked.

Lin Shuyou trembled slightly. When he opened his eyes again, they were clear.

“S-sorry,” he stammered, knowing he’d nearly caused serious trouble again.

“Did your master or your grandpa do this too?”

If it was a family trait, they’d probably go swinging at anything spooky that crossed their path.

But that didn’t seem likely. Any sect that aggressive wouldn’t last long—especially not during a period of weakened inheritance.

“No, only I’m like this.”

“Did they ever say why?”

“They said my talent was too good. I enter trance way too easily.”

“Too talented, huh? And right now, you can only summon the White Crane Child?”

“For someone my age, being able to summon the White Crane Child without a temple or aid is already super rare. Of course, Xiaoyuan-ge, I’m nothing compared to you. You can even summon the General of Defeat.”

“I already told you—that was a lie.”

“You were just being modest.”

“Who told you that?”

Tan Wenbin looked away, suddenly fascinated by the ‘Beauty in Love with a Python’ poster ahead.

Lin Shuyou said, “No one told me. I heard it on my own.”

“Binbin-ge.”

“Wasn’t me.”

“Go buy the tickets.”

“Ah—right! Heh.”

Tan Wenbin scurried off to get them.

The three entered the next tent.

The poster outside featured a sexy woman in a swimsuit entangled with a giant python.

The ad didn’t lie. If anything, it undersold.

Inside the mosquito-net bed lay a scantily clad young woman—truly beautiful.

Next to her was a thick python. Below them, many small snakes slithered.

This tent had double the crowd of the last one.

Kids stared at the snakes. Adults stared at the woman.

Li Zhuiyuan hugged his oversized bunny and stared at the woman.

Dark, invisible wisps curled around her. Not signs of possession, but something more like long-term contamination.

“Watch closely.”

The woman on the bed—Sister Rou—spoke softly. Then she picked up a small snake and let it slither into her nostril. After a few moments, it emerged from her mouth.

The crowd gasped in horror.

Then the python, which had been lazily coiled, began sliding over her body. Its head reached her crown and rose slowly, flicking its tongue.

Her eyes and the serpent’s moved almost simultaneously, scanning the room.

Li Zhuiyuan noticed a subtle pause each time they passed over a child.

But then something unexpected happened—both the woman and the python stopped on him.

Li Zhuiyuan pretended to be afraid, lifting the bunny doll to shield his face.

In truth, the woman hadn’t noticed anything strange about him. She simply thought the child looked quite pretty.

He was probably just past ten—too old to be a prime trafficking target.

To traffickers, boys under five were ideal. High demand, high price, easy to rehome.

They didn’t remember much at that age and would forget their past, treating the buyer as their real parent.

“Don’t be scared, little brother,” Sister Rou cooed.

The others turned their eyes to him.

Li Zhuiyuan peeked out from behind the bunny, confirmed she hadn’t detected anything off, and retreated with a frightened shake of his head—then walked out of the tent entirely.

He didn’t want direct contact with her circle until he found Granny Yu.

Because unless she was dead, killing all her minions would be useless. The river would still bind them in eternal enmity.

Tan Wenbin laughed. “Hahaha, Xiaoyuan, you’re such a scaredy-cat!”

He chased after him, still laughing.

Lin Shuyou didn’t have that kind of performance flair. He just shrugged helplessly and followed them out.

Inside the tent, laughter rippled through the crowd. It all seemed normal. Even adults were creeped out by all those snakes.

Sister Rou didn’t pay it any mind. She picked up another small snake and continued the act.

Once Tan Wenbin and Lin Shuyou rejoined him, the three headed toward the performance tent still under construction.

Li Zhuiyuan said, “That woman’s suspicious. She’s the only obvious one so far. The others in the troupe seem normal. If things go down, keep an eye on her.”

Lin Shuyou nodded seriously. “Got it.”

“No, you don’t have to. Binbin-ge, you’ll be watching her. If she shows up during a fight, it’s your job to keep her busy.”

With Runsheng and Yin Meng absent this time, Tan Wenbin was thrilled to have a solo assignment. He raised his hand to his forehead, flung it out theatrically, then stomped his foot.

“Loyalty!”

By now, quite a few people had gathered to watch the setup of the performance tent.

Li Zhuiyuan spotted the problem immediately: the foundation for this temporary structure was far too solid.

Each stake was wrapped in oiled paper and placed with uncanny precision—this wasn’t casual placement. It was the early stage of a formation meant to induce hallucinations.

Yet the acrobat troupe workers clearly didn’t understand what they were doing. They were copying a diagram. In the center, one man held a blueprint and constantly directed others to adjust the stakes' positions.

As they worked, Li Zhuiyuan pondered how best to alter the layout.

Their ignorance was an advantage. He wouldn’t need to hide his own modifications—he could embed a micro-formation at the core for direct control.

If someone experienced had been in charge, it would’ve been like holding a lit flashlight in the dark. But to the clueless, it was just another lightbulb in a trash pile under the noon sun.

As he surveyed the rows of smaller tents behind the main stage, one stood out. It had a white, insulated roof and sat dead center.

It might as well have had a banner plastered on it that said: “Suspicious stuff in here!”

But daytime was the worst time to act or set up anything meaningful. They’d have to wait until deep night.

For now, the three of them needed a place to rest and plan.

Unfortunately, there were no hotels nearby. Across the road, though, was a two-story building with a massage parlor sign hanging from its second-floor balcony. From there, they’d have a great view of the entire troupe grounds.

They crossed the road and approached the entrance. Inside, there was a lone massage bed and five heavily made-up women lounging on a sofa.

Tan Wenbin slapped his forehead. “Oh no—this is the spicy kind.”

In other words: “Xiaoyuan-ge, can we pick another spot?”

But the area was filled with low buildings and shops, offering terrible vantage points.

Seeing Li Zhuiyuan remain silent, Tan Wenbin had no choice but to go inside. After some negotiation, he signaled the others to follow.

They climbed to the second floor, trailed by two “technicians.”

Upstairs, the space was divided into small cubicles.

Tan Wenbin grinned. “Little bro, wait here while your big bros take care of business.”

Li Zhuiyuan sat on a chair outside.

Tan Wenbin whispered something to Lin Shuyou, and the two each entered a cubicle, with a “technician” carrying a plastic basket trailing behind.

At first, the massage was semi-professional, if a bit half-hearted and perfunctory.

But when the technicians started edging toward more sensitive areas, Tan Wenbin sighed and said, “Forget it, I’m too tired. Not in the mood. You can keep the money—I’ll take a nap.”

Next door, facing the same situation, Lin Shuyou responded with increasing panic.

“I can’t.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“I really can’t.”

“Come on, believe in yourself.”

“No, seriously, I’m good.”

“No worries, I’ll help you.”

“No, really, stop.”

“Don’t be scared, sis understands.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Oh my, are you still a virgin?”

“I…”

“I’ll give you a discount—think of it as a red envelope.”

The technician in Tan Wenbin’s room had already left. Li Zhuiyuan entered the cubicle.

There was a window that directly faced the acrobat troupe grounds.

Li Zhuiyuan opened Tan Wenbin’s hiking bag and pulled out pre-drawn formation diagrams. Using the vantage point, he guided Tan Wenbin on how and where to place everything after nightfall.

Tan Wenbin nodded constantly. These formations would be laid on the perimeter—to draw the enemy in or buy time if things went south.

There were quite a few of them. While Tan Wenbin calculated the time he’d need, Li Zhuiyuan began sketching micro-formations on-site for the stage area.

When all was set, Lin Shuyou finally pushed the door open and came in.

Tan Wenbin grinned. “Damn, took you long enough.”

Lin Shuyou’s face turned red. “I didn’t do anything! She was just super friendly. Took me forever to convince her to leave.”

Tan Wenbin chuckled. “She’s a professional, after all.”

The walls were thin—everything could be heard clearly.

If they weren’t busy with the real mission, Tan Wenbin would’ve teased, “Ayou, just give in to the nice lady.”

Li Zhuiyuan handed another diagram to Lin Shuyou. “Can you read this?”

Lin Shuyou nodded, then shook his head. “I recognize it, but I can’t use it.”

Basic knowledge, but only the basics.

“That’s enough. Just follow the instructions and plant the flags after nightfall.”

“Got it.”

Li Zhuiyuan assigned Tan Wenbin to the outer perimeter and Lin Shuyou to the inner ring. Lin Shuyou had better agility and was less likely to be spotted.

As night deepened, the stage was finished, and the streets began to empty.

Tan Wenbin mused, “Guess business isn’t great here. They haven’t kicked us out this whole time.”

They waited until everything outside quieted down. The troupe members returned to their tents or cars to rest.

The time had come.

They left the cubicle and descended—only to find the ground floor completely dark. The glass door was locked, and the shutter pulled down.

Turns out the place had closed hours ago.

They’d either been forgotten or no one thought to check the second floor for lingering guests.

Breaking the door would make too much noise. They returned upstairs and climbed out the window.

Tan Wenbin clung cautiously to an electrical pole. Lin Shuyou leapt down first, lowering both his bag and Tan Wenbin’s hiking pack before climbing back up to help Li Zhuiyuan down.

By the time they’d gone up and down twice, Tan Wenbin was still poking at the pole to see if it could hold his weight.

Once he finally descended, they split up.

Li Zhuiyuan hid beneath a nearby slope, close enough to the troupe grounds to listen in without needing to look.

Tan Wenbin and Lin Shuyou each carried a pack of various formation flags and began setting them up.

Despite Lin Shuyou’s route being more difficult, he and Tan Wenbin returned at nearly the same time, slightly winded.

Li Zhuiyuan let them rest a bit.

Just as he judged it was time to make their move, a soft rustling reached his ears.

The boy slowly looked up.

In the distance, an old woman approached, carrying two white lanterns, one in each hand.

Her shoes clacked like wooden clogs, and her stiff gait made her footsteps loud.

As she drew nearer, her legs seemed to elongate unnaturally. She wasn’t wearing stilts, but her height grew in an eerie, impossible way.

The white lanterns cast a sickly glow over her face, making it ghastly pale.

“Hehehehehehe…”

A chilling laugh floated out from her.

Then she began to call out:

“You naughty little things… out so late instead of sleeping soundly. Must Granny come find you herself?”

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