First Contact

"Holy crap, what a cool bald head!"

Zhu Xiaoming touched his bald head, looked at the handsome young man walking straight towards him, and nudged Zhang Fusheng with his elbow:

"Your friend?"

Zhang Fusheng did not answer, but squinted and stared at the young man.

This time, the other person didn't have the gaunt woman hanging behind them, but they were still holding a bone bowl in their hands.

The bone bowl was inlaid with gold and crystal, which others might not recognize at first glance, but Zhang Fusheng did.

It's a bowl made from a skull.

There's a 90% chance he's the Buddhist disciple Du Mingsheng mentioned.

Zhang Fusheng remained motionless, silently gathering his strength. His muscles tensed, and the Yin Snake True Intent coiled within his bones and muscles.

He was even prepared to expose the divine realm.

The handsome young man was already in front of him.

The young man stood still, his face expressionless, and with lightning speed, he extended his hand.

He touched Zhu Xiaoming's bald head.

He gave a compliment:

"What a cool bald head."

Having gathered all his strength, Zhang Fusheng almost couldn't catch his breath; the hidden, violent power nearly made him cough up blood.

"What are you doing?!" Zhu Xiaoming slapped the handsome young man's hand away. "You're touching my head right away, buddy? Are you a pervert?"

The young man, neither angry nor impatient, smiled and said:

"Young benefactor, I see that you possess innate wisdom, which resides on this very head. You are naturally bald, radiating compassion, joy, and equanimity, yet also harboring a hint of wrath. You truly possess the qualities of a great Vajra."

He praised it highly:

"You should become a follower of the Jifen Venerate deities; one day you may very well become a true wrathful Vajra and protect my Dharma."

Zhu Xiaoming was completely bewildered by the string of words:

"What are you babbling about? Joining a cult? Are you a cultist? Give me two hundred bucks first!"

The handsome young man said very seriously:

"You are indeed blessed with natural strength, being born without hair, with a perfect head shape and just the right curve."

He looked Zhu Xiaoming's bald head over his shoulder, praised it three times, and couldn't resist reaching out to stroke it.

Zhu Xiaoming spoke in terror:

"I know you're a foot fetishist, but buddy, you're a head fetishist?!"

He jumped back a step with a 'chua', his hair standing on end, and crossed his hands to cover his bald head:

"Don't get involved! I'm not a head fetishist. Let me tell you, my brother is right here. He's a ruthless guy who'll even fool kids!"

Zhang Fusheng was speechless, and so angry he wanted to kick Zhu Xiaoming.

To his surprise, the handsome young man actually looked at him, sized him up for a moment, and said gently:

"This benefactor, you possess the aura of Living Buddha."

Zhang Fusheng felt a sudden chill, his feet sank to the ground, his center of gravity became like mercury, and the choice between attack and retreat was only a thought away.

The handsome young man continued:

"Since he bears the aura of Living Buddha, and a strong one at that, it means that the Living Buddha is a close friend of yours. However, you must be very careful, as this person is skilled in the insidious and treacherous Art of Living Corpses. I observe that your body is pure and your cultivation is extraordinary; you may have already been targeted."

After thinking for a moment, he added:

"Of course, if you know that Living Buddha, please tell him."

"Then tell him that Ji Fen has arrived in Jiangzhou for hunting, and ask him to make sure he is well prepared. If the hunt is too easy, Mahakala's reward for Ji Fen will be less."

Zhang Fusheng's eyelids twitched. Was the Living Buddha beside him?

The Art of Living Corpses must be the anomaly manifested in Liu Zhengbang and the governor.

Could it be that the Living Buddha is Niu Dali)?

He smiled.

"Since it's a hunt, why not just take the head of that so-called Living Buddha?"

The young man shook his head seriously:

"I'm giving him time to prepare; he should know that I've arrived."

The two were talking in a cryptic way, leaving Zhu Xiaoming completely bewildered.

"So you two know each other, huh? You son of a bitch, Lao Zhang, you hired someone to mess with me?"

Ji Fen looked at Zhu Xiaoming:

"You just asked for 'two hundred dollars.' Do you mean you'll join my sect if you get the money?"

Zhu Xiaoming paused for a moment, then decisively opened the payment QR code:

"Give it to me!"

Ji Fen paused for a moment:

"This humble monk has neither such items nor any money, but I can beg for alms."

He looked at Zhang Fusheng and smiled:

"Benefactor, is my reminder worth two hundred?"

Zhang Fusheng glanced at him.

I transferred two hundred yuan to Zhu Xiaoming, who blinked blankly.

"Compassion, compassion!"

Ji Fen sighed:

"Benefactor Zhu, after the hunt is over, this humble monk will come to guide you into my sect."

"And this benefactor."

He looked at Zhang Fusheng, seemingly to repay the debt of two hundred yuan, and said calmly:

"Your eyes have been clouded by Malevolent Energy, your mind clouded, and your spirit confused. You are prone to unwise actions and easily fall into calamity—or you may already be trapped in it. I earnestly urge you to be careful."

Zhang Fusheng's expression changed slightly. He was about to ask a question when he saw the handsome young man turn and leave without any hesitation.

Zhu Xiaoming paused for a moment:

"Old Zhang, where did you find this guy just to annoy me?"

He touched his bald head, speechless.

Zhang Fusheng temporarily put aside the matter of 'falling into misfortune' and looked at him:

"What? The person I hired? I suggest we keep today's events a secret. That guy is truly a Buddhist disciple."

"Buddha's disciple? What the hell?"

The Federation is extremely vigilant against cults, and ordinary people have no way of even knowing the names of cults.

Zhang Fusheng sighed softly:

"I don't know if this is a blessing or a curse for you. Let's go find that Teacher Liao."

Liao Zhong took a leisurely sip of tea.

He has a great grandfather, a great grandfather who wields considerable influence in the Lower-Level District.

That's why, despite only being at the Fourth Refinement of cultivation, even less advanced than some Seed-level students, he could still become the head of the Martial Arts Department.

And they did whatever they wanted throughout Jiang University.

"Director." The girl with the high ponytail looked unfocused and breathed softly, "I don't want the resources anymore, I don't want them."

Her head was spinning, her face was flushed, and she tried to struggle, but she couldn't muster any strength in her hands and feet.

"Good."

Liao Zhong put down his teacup, began to take off his clothes, and smiled:

"I heard your family even sold their house to pay for your tuition? You don't want to be expelled for violating the rules, do you?"

The girl gritted her teeth and struggled, saying:

I did not violate the rules.

"Jiang University, I'm the one who calls the shots." Liao Zhong roughly grabbed her ponytail, gave it a hard flick, and threw her onto the sofa.

Footsteps and voices could be heard outside the door.

"What exactly is Living Buddha or a disciple of Buddha?"

"Consider the two hundred yuan I owe you today a loan; I'll pay you back later, okay?"

Liao Zhong wasn't panicked at all; on the contrary, he was even more excited—which was why he chose the school and the office.

He stripped naked.

The girl tried to call for help, but ultimately closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side.

"That's more like it!"

Liao Zhong smiled and said:

"Keep your voice down, or someone will hear you."

His smile grew even brighter, and he even began to think about who to choose next.

I want someone with no connections, someone easy to bully. Last time I messed with a distant relative of Old Ghost Chai, and we almost got slaughtered.

Yes, there's a Seed-level student among the freshmen, Chen Nuanyu.

As he pondered, he stepped forward, grabbed the student's head, pulled him closer, and pressed him down.

The sound of footsteps passing by suddenly stopped outside the door.

"Department Head's Office? I see, Lao Zhang, you want to transfer to martial arts."

'Bang!!'

The office door was kicked open.

"Who!!"

Liao Zhong shuddered in fright, abruptly shoving the student's head away. He turned around angrily and saw two students standing outside the door.

One of the bald men yelled "Holy shit!" while pulling up his collar to cover his face, and tried to drag the little bastard who kicked the door away.

Liao Zhong was stunned at first, then his anger flared up immediately—he felt a bit deflated after being so frightened!

"Which department and class are you from?!"

He roared as he threw on his clothes, and saw the handsome young man pick up a ballpoint pen, tearing it open as he spoke to the bald man:

"You've never believed me, so I brought you here today so you can see for yourself that facts speak louder than words. Oh, right, call Uncle Zhu and tell him to pack up and get ready to go to Longzhou City."

Liao Zhong's face contorted in pain. He took a step forward, his figure creating a gust of wind as he suddenly charged forward!

"Old Zhang!"

The bald man's pupils contracted, and he only had time to utter a gasp.

They've arrived close.

Liao Zhong's face darkened as he reached out to grab it, already thinking to himself that if the guy didn't have any powerful connections, he would just kill him with a hammer.

Just before the large, thick hand was about to seize the two boys.

'Laugh'

Liao Zhong was taken aback.

He looked down and saw the soft, hollow pen refill piercing through flesh strong enough to trap a bullet, and into his heart without any resistance.

He stared blankly as blood gushed from the hollow pen refill.

"Take a deep breath; dizziness is normal."

Liao Zhong heard the handsome young man speak gently and saw him lightly tap the pen refill with his finger.

A chilling sensation seeped into my heart through the pen tip and then spread throughout my entire body.

Zhang Fusheng, dragging the panting Liao Zhong, tossed him onto the sofa and chuckled:

"Call Liao Xianji and ask him to come rescue you. You're at the Fourth Refinement; you should be able to hold out for about an hour."

Liao Zhong's face turned pale rapidly, his lips trembled, and he pressed one hand against the hole in the pen refill to stop the bleeding.

He fumbled for his phone with his other hand, his eyes filled with fear and confusion.

The call was connected.

"Grandfather!!"

He only had time to let out that one howl.

Zhang Fusheng reached out and crushed his throat. The vitality of Fourth Refinement martial artist was still commendable; he wouldn't die in a short time.

Liao Zhong could only make a hoarse sound, while Liao Xianji's anxious shouts came from the other end of the phone.

Ignored it.

He stepped forward, picked up a blanket, and covered the naked girl with it, leaving a mental imprint in the office.

"Let's go, Old Zhu."

"Lu Yao and the others run, and have a cup of milk tea."

As Zhang Fusheng slowly wiped the blood from his hands, he said with a smile.