Rainy Night

By the Green Dragon Mountain highway, Yang Chu, soaked to the skin, sat slumped against a telephone booth, gasping heavily.

After leaving that secluded warehouse, he had staggered through the rain for about a kilometer. Along the way, he forgot to breathe several times, fell, and suffered cardiac arrest, before finally managing to hide in this roadside telephone booth.

The worsening rain, torn leg ligaments, slight fractures in his foot bones, and the beating he had taken during the kidnapping had left him in an extremely poor state.

Pain, weakness, a body growing heavier and heavier—

Even though Yang Chu's conscious mind could ignore this negative physical feedback and force his body onward like a machine, the complicated operation of all its internal systems often left his awareness unable to attend to everything.

At that moment, Yang Chu's conscious mind was like a frantic worker trying to manage several assembly lines at once, doing everything it could to coordinate the steady operation of every system in his body.

The loss of his subconscious meant he had to actively control the operation of every major bodily system, an incredibly difficult task.

Fortunately, his consciousness was gradually adapting. Whether it was stimulating his heart to beat, making himself breathe, or occasionally adjusting the operation of other bodily systems, everything was repetitive and rhythmic.

If he had to compare it to something, it was like playing the drums.

One moment he had to work the bass drum pedal and hi-hat, the next he had to strike the snare, along with several toms and a crash cymbal.

There were many threads to manage, but after stopping his locomotor system and leaning against the telephone booth, he could finally spare a little attention to consider the information he had gathered.

The booth's glass door bore the blue traditional-character name of Hong Kong Telecom, along with all sorts of illegal advertisements. The heavy metal telephone in the center was covered with phone numbers for every district.

"So I traveled through time to Hong Kong Island in the eighties or nineties..."

From the local and district phone numbers posted in the booth, along with other advertisements, phone books, and the Hong Kong dollars he had found on that thug earlier, Yang Chu had roughly figured out where he was.

Hong Kong Island.

As for the time—

There was no specific information in the telephone booth, but the wallet he carried contained what appeared to be a gangster's ID card. The birth year was 1966, and judging by the man's apparent age of twenty or thirty, Yang Chu guessed it was the eighties or nineties.

He now had a general understanding of the place and era he was in, but that did nothing to solve the problems Yang Chu currently faced.

Over the past half hour, the more control he gained over his body's eight major systems, the more clearly he realized just how terrible his condition was.

After all, this was a body that had been beaten, imprisoned, and resurrected after death.

"My first goal now is to find somewhere to settle down as soon as possible."

What Yang Chu needed to think about next was where to stay.

Although he knew he was on Hong Kong Island, the surroundings were desolate. There was not even a village in sight. This was probably some remote suburban area.

When he arrived in this world, this body had already died. Its subconscious had vanished, and so had every trace of its memories. There were no other belongings, either.

The only wallet and ID card he had were taken from that dead gangster.

That meant Yang Chu had no way to recover any of this body's former social connections, much less find a place to stay or live.

Judging from how this body had been kidnapped and beaten earlier, he did not seem like a wealthy person abducted for ransom. More likely, he had been dragged into some dangerous incident beyond his ability to handle.

Moreover, Yang Chu's consciousness had to keep controlling every system in his body to maintain their operation. Even while remaining still like this, he could not spend too long thinking, or some part of his body would "crash."

Yang Chu could clearly feel the warnings sent to him through his nervous system from every part of his body.

The loss of body heat from the rain, extreme muscle fatigue, fierce hunger caused by lack of energy, and all the aches and injuries from being held and beaten—

Although Yang Chu could completely ignore these negative signals after his conscious mind took full control of his body's major systems, he understood that if this continued for too long, even if his body did not die again, it would suffer lasting damage.

From the feedback coming from every part of his body, Yang Chu could tell that it was constantly drawing on stored energy—what people normally called burning fat.

This was the natural biochemical reaction of organs and tissues after the major bodily systems began operating. It was not something Yang Chu could control.

But from his increasingly weak body, he also understood that he needed to take in energy and treat his injuries as soon as possible.

Suddenly, headlights flashed on the highway in the distant rainy night.

"Hm? A passing vehicle?"

Yang Chu's spirits lifted. He forced his heart to pound violently, and his sluggish body immediately became stronger and more agile as his blood circulation accelerated. Even with his injured left leg, he rushed to the roadside with astonishing speed.

Yang Chu had figured this out through trial and error after leaving the warehouse. Through his nervous system, his consciousness stimulated the sinoatrial node of his heart, speeding up its beat and promoting circulation, allowing him to gain short bursts of explosive power.

But the speeding vehicle showed no intention of slowing when it saw Yang Chu wave for it to stop. It swept past him and vanished into the distant night.

"Looks like I won't get a ride by waiting like this."

Yang Chu watched the vehicle disappear, then slowly sat down by the roadside.

His violently beating heart gradually calmed, and the pain and weakness of his body returned to his brain.

Hunger, hypothermia, pain, exhaustion—

He could only reduce his energy consumption as much as possible.

Standing in the middle of the highway, Yang Chu watched a vehicle speed toward him. Under the blinding high beams, he could not make out what kind of vehicle it was, but he had no intention of getting out of the way.

Perhaps because of the rainy night, the approaching vehicle was not moving especially fast. Yet it failed to notice Yang Chu standing in the road, only slamming on the brakes when it was three or four meters away from him.

But the wet road and the vehicle's momentum prevented it from stopping immediately.

At that critical moment, Yang Chu seemed to observe things from a third-person perspective. When the vehicle was barely more than a meter away, he used his control over his locomotor system to nimbly dodge to the side.

Screeech—

The sound of tires grinding against the road rang out.

The vehicle braked sharply, stalled, and came to a stop not far from Yang Chu.

It was a taxi. Through the rain-streaked glass, he could vaguely see the taxi driver gripping the steering wheel with both hands, breathing heavily, his face filled with lingering terror.

"Sorry. It's hard to get a taxi around here. I've been waiting for ages."

Yang Chu stepped forward and knocked on the glass, forcing an apologetic smile onto his face.

The taxi driver was a young man in his twenties or thirties, refined-looking and mild-mannered. When he heard Yang Chu knock on the window, he seemed to jump in fright again.

But after seeing Yang Chu clearly through the glass, anger and wariness appeared in his eyes. He ignored Yang Chu, his lips moving as if he were muttering something, then reached for the key to start the car and drive away.

"Do me a favor. Just take me somewhere up ahead where there are people."

Seeing that the man had no intention of taking him, Yang Chu controlled his body and stepped in front of the taxi first.

Yang Chu was not surprised that the taxi driver ignored him. Kindhearted people existed everywhere, but that did not mean he would necessarily meet one.

Besides, it was the middle of a rainy night in a remote suburb, and a battered, injured man had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. It was perfectly normal for the driver not to want anything to do with him.

But Yang Chu was completely unfamiliar with the area. His physical condition was poor, and he still needed to constantly control the operation of his body's major systems.

After finally waiting for a taxi, Yang Chu could only make the driver take him out of this wilderness.

The engine had started, its dull rumble especially clear in the rainy night.

The young driver in the seat looked at Yang Chu blocking the car, anger appearing on his face as he pressed the horn twice in frustration.

"Just take me somewhere up ahead where there are people."

Still standing in front of the taxi, Yang Chu took several hundred-dollar bills from the wallet he had picked up from that thug and slapped them onto the hood.

In Yang Chu's view, the other man was simply afraid that he was some criminal or villain. With no profit to gain, naturally he would not want to bother with him.

"I'm not taking you!"

But to Yang Chu's surprise, the taxi driver not only refused to take him, but rolled down the window halfway and shouted at him almost hysterically.

Yang Chu frowned and moved aside.

He saw that the taxi was empty, with no passengers inside, and could not understand whether this night-shift driver, who made his living hauling fares, had simply been frightened by him or had some other reason.

But Yang Chu did not give up completely. If he missed this taxi, he did not know how long it would be before another vehicle or pedestrian passed by.

Looking at that strangely twisted, ferocious face behind the windshield, Yang Chu deliberately said in a somewhat threatening tone, "License plate CW1141. If you refuse to take me, I'll report you."

Yang Chu actually knew nothing about the taxi industry on Hong Kong Island, nor did he know whether the threat of reporting him would work.

Yet after Yang Chu said he would report him, the young taxi driver really did not leave. Instead, he sat in the driver's seat, his expression shifting uncertainly, his lips moving as though he were muttering continuously.

Yang Chu forced himself to wait in the rain for quite some time before the young driver finally turned his head, looked Yang Chu up and down through the window, lowered it a little farther, and waved him over. As if reluctantly, he said, "Fine. You look pitiful. Get in."

"Thanks!"

The taxi doors unlocked. Yang Chu thanked him, quickly walked to the back seat, opened the door, and got in.

He did not know whether the driver had been scared by the threat of a complaint, tempted by the Hong Kong dollars he had offered, or suddenly overcome by kindness. It did not matter.

At that moment, he only wanted to leave this place as soon as possible and find somewhere to stay.

After getting in, Yang Chu glanced at the young driver in front of him. By the reading light that had not yet gone out, he saw the taxi driver's ID badge on the dashboard.

Lin Guoyu.

When he saw that name, Yang Chu was briefly dazed.

It was not because the name reminded him of his earlier experience getting drenched in the rain. Rather, he vaguely felt as though he had heard it somewhere before, though he could not recall where.

Perhaps because his consciousness had revived in a freshly dead corpse, he had not only failed to inherit the body's original memories, but even many memories from before his transmigration had become blurred.

The taxi started moving again. Lin Guoyu, the taxi driver in the front seat, kept studying Yang Chu through the rearview mirror, his gaze both wary and appraising.

Yang Chu noticed the strange look in the man's eyes but still paid it no mind.

Most of his attention remained focused on maintaining the operation of his body's major systems.

During the time he had spent leaving the telephone booth and flagging down the taxi, he had felt the systems inside his body becoming somewhat disordered and sluggish. He needed to adjust them quickly.

"Brother, are you hurt?"

After the car had driven for perhaps three to five minutes, Lin Guoyu's voice suddenly sounded from the driver's seat.

Yang Chu lay limply against the seat. He opened his narrowed eyes a sliver and casually replied, "I fell by the shore."

"That was quite a fall." The young taxi driver pointed toward Yang Chu's head through the rearview mirror, suddenly becoming rather enthusiastic. "Want me to find you a clinic?"

"It's fine. No need."

Yang Chu replied flatly and touched his forehead. The wound where he had been struck by the square wooden stick earlier had begun to seep blood again without the rain washing it away.

In his current state, treating external injuries was not the most important thing. What mattered more was getting a good meal and replenishing the energy his body had consumed.

Then he needed to find a clean place to rest, reduce his activity, and further coordinate the operation of his internal systems. That was the priority.

That way, after stabilizing his body's condition, Yang Chu could also free up a little more attention to consider what he should do next.

"Suit yourself." Lin Guoyu shrugged, looking as though Yang Chu had wasted his good intentions. After a pause, he added, "Once we pass Jialong Village, we'll reach Tsing Lung Tau Pier. There are places to eat and stay there. Want to get off there?"

"Fine."

Yang Chu did not waste words. He glanced toward the left side of the road, where he could faintly see a few lights in the dark rainy night. That was probably the Jialong Village Lin Guoyu had mentioned.

Jialong Village was not actually far from the telephone booth where Yang Chu had been earlier, only a few kilometers away. But he was completely unfamiliar with the surroundings, and his body might not have been able to hold out.

After their brief exchange, the taxi seemed to fall silent again.

Bang, bang, bang—

Suddenly, Yang Chu, who had closed his eyes again, heard knocking coming from the trunk behind the back seat.

When the sound rang out, Lin Guoyu, who was driving, suddenly tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Then he shouted loudly, "Fortune, stop making noise! We'll be home soon. If you make any more noise, I'll slaughter you."

As he spoke, Lin Guoyu looked at Yang Chu through the rearview mirror again and apologetically explained, "Sorry, there's a Labrador my dad raised in the back. I just took him to the vet. Damn, it's daylight robbery. Not only is treating people expensive these days, treating cats and dogs costs me several days' wages too. Sigh, in my next life, I'd rather be a dog!"

Listening to Lin Guoyu chatter on, Yang Chu said nothing and slowly closed his eyes again.

But the banging from the trunk continued, occasionally mixed with muffled whimpering.

To Yang Chu, it did not sound much like the whine of a canine, but he had no spare attention to think about anything else. Most of his focus was devoted to keeping his body's major systems functioning.

"Help—"

However, after the muffled sounds had continued for a while, a shrill cry filled with tears suddenly came from the trunk.

Screech—

The taxi slammed on the brakes and stopped in the middle of the road.