Still Too Young

A harsh screech of metal scraping, followed by a violent crash.

The entire police car lurched forward, inertia slamming everyone’s bodies hard toward the front.

Kuang Jianhua’s phone flew out of his hand, smashing against the dashboard as the call cut off.

“What the hell! The first lesson in driving school is maintaining a safe following distance—did you give that back to your instructor?”

Kuang Jianhua rubbed his chest, sore from the seatbelt digging in, a surge of anger rushing to his head.

He picked up the phone with its cracked screen without even looking, pushed open the door, and got out.

It was worse than he’d thought.

This wasn’t just a simple rear-end collision; it was a chain-reaction crash.

Several cars ahead had crumpled into one another, completely blocking two lanes.

The noise of horns and curses mixed together into a chaotic mess.

“Xiao Wang, Xiao Li, take two people to the front and direct traffic—clear a lane!”

Captain Kuang made an instant decision, barking at a few young officers. “Move it! This is an expressway—in half an hour, rush hour will have it completely gridlocked!”

“Yes, Captain Kuang!” one officer responded, running off, then hesitated and turned back. “Uh… what about the ones in the car?”

Captain Kuang glanced at the suspects handcuffed in the back seat and waved dismissively. “Cuff them to the car for now. They won’t die.”

With some hands freed, the chaos on the scene began to settle into order.

Just then, a young officer on lookout duties seemed to spot something. He jerked his head up toward the slope by the roadside, his face draining of all color.

His voice twisted with fear as he screamed.

“Oh no! Everyone, take cover! Rockslide!”

The group instinctively looked up to see a barely noticeable tear in the slope net, meant to protect the road, where several massive boulders were breaking free, plummeting with a whistling wind.

The officers scrambled, diving and rolling out of the way.

The next second, several dull, teeth-grinding crashes rang out.

Those giant boulders landed with pinpoint accuracy on the three police cars transporting the suspects.

The sturdy roofs caved in like paper, the entire bodies of the cars sinking half a foot lower.

The surrounding noise seemed to hit a mute button.

Everyone was stunned by the sudden scene. Only Captain Kuang, after a brief shock, felt a chill shoot from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head.

Something was off.

Too coincidental—coincidental enough that it felt like something was controlling it all.

“The suspects!”

That single thought dominated his mind as he sprinted like a madman toward the flattened police cars. “Move! Check on the suspects!”

He pulled with all his might at the rear door, but it was severely deformed and wouldn’t budge.

“Get back!”

Captain Kuang kicked the door hinge and used his hands to wrench it open.

With a bang, the door gave way.

Kuang Jianhua stumbled back a few steps.

What he saw inside the car made the seasoned detective’s stomach churn violently.

The lower bodies of those handcuffed in the car were still normal.

But their heads had been crushed into indistinguishable bloody mush.

Red and white were splattered all over the seats.

“Captain Kuang! The suspect’s dead!”

“Same here!”

His subordinates’ horrified reports came from behind.

Captain Kuang slowly straightened up, lifted his head, and couldn’t help but look at the slope.

Amid the shifting shadows of trees, he caught a fleeting dark silhouette.

That silhouette seemed to notice his gaze and even paused briefly.

It wasn’t an illusion.

“That fierce?”

--System: Fierce as hell--

The incense was rekindled, allowing them to keep tracking the vengeful spirit’s location.

But just as the last wisp of smoke curled upward, a surge of cold shot up Shouzhen’s spine, every hair on his body standing on end.

Something was wrong.

Something had been drawn in, charging toward their position at an alarming speed.

He lowered his gaze to the unremarkable black bag at his feet, which held the vengeful spirit’s remains.

To keep that last stick of incense burning, he’d specifically brought this along—after all, it was the only link to the spirit.

Now it was clear: this was both a key and a detonator.

“I really am still too green,” Shouzhen muttered, twisting his mouth into a self-deprecating smile. Every time he acted on his own, he hit roadblocks, constantly redefining his understanding of how deep the waters were.

Shouzhen let out a wry laugh.

He didn’t linger, immediately turning to the driver’s seat and saying to Old Bai, “Layman Bai, find an open spot—somewhere under a bridge will do. That thing’s coming for us.”

Old Bai didn’t even blink, treating this like a routine reroute notice.

Without a word, he turned the wheel, and the car smoothly left the main road, heading toward the riverside bridge base.

Honestly, they weren’t too worried, since Lin Mo was in the back.

A turn later, they arrived under the bridge.

A place like this was probably only frequented by anglers.

Tires scraped the ground as the car stopped steadily beside a massive concrete pillar.

Shouzhen picked up the bag of bones and got out first.

He pulled a Red Fuji apple, still with its store tag, from his pocket and stuck the three unburnt incense sticks into it.

Without a proper censer, this would have to do.

Then, he began chanting scriptures rapidly, creating invisible ripples in the silent space under the bridge.

The vengeful spirit was coming. With no ritual altar, he had to prepare first.

Inside the car, Lin Mo and the others didn’t move.

“What… what’s he doing with all that mumbo-jumbo?” Jiang Yunlu pressed her face to the window like a curious child, full of question marks.

“Stacking buffs. Before a fight, the mage always buffs himself first. That’s worth learning from—how steady he is. Some big-shot skeleton master does the same, layering buffs before a battle.”

He raised his hand, forming a two-finger sign, and flicked it past Jiang Yunlu, Chu Miaomiao, and Ning Qingcheng’s eyes.

The three felt a momentary blur, as if a cool stream had washed over their eyeballs.

When they opened their eyes again, the world wasn’t much different.

It seemed nothing had changed.

But opening the eyes to the supernatural was like that—it just let you see what was normally hidden.

As for Uncle Zhao.

Lin Mo looked at him. “Uncle Zhao, want to see those things?”

Uncle Zhao was already pulling out his phone, planning to read a novel, and shook his head like a rattle-drum. “No, no. This old bones will stick to reading—better for my heart.”

Though he’d mentally prepared himself, the thought of witnessing those things for real made Uncle Zhao feel like his heart might burst on the spot.

Despite his suspicions before, Uncle Zhao just couldn’t handle the supernatural.

As for Xie Yuling, she could already see, so she was fine.

Lin Mo handed her two yellow talismans.

“One is the Old Lady talisman, the other is the Five Thunder talisman. They’re yours.”

Xie Yuling bit her lower lip, looking up at him.

“Meaning?”

Lin Mo nodded, a complete lack of humor in his eyes. “Exactly what you think. That vengeful spirit already took care of those human traffickers. The grudge has fully matured into something serious.”

Upon hearing the word "resolve," the atmosphere in the car grew heavy once more.

Jiang Yunlu couldn't help but interject, "Besides... besides directly killing it, is there no other way? It's also a victim."

"There is."

Lin Mo's answer was somewhat unexpected.

"If that old woman, its grandmother, can successfully redeem it, perhaps it can wash away its resentment and both move on to reincarnation together."