Chapter One Hundred Forty: I Am Just an Ordinary Person

Two minutes and thirteen seconds after Shen Yixia dashed away, a blue SUV pulled up behind a gray sedan.

Zhang Xiaoman pushed open the door and stepped out, glancing at the deserted gray car. Frowning, he closed his eyes and sniffed a few times. A faint stench of urine mixed with a strong metallic scent of blood wafted into his nostrils.

Nie Yi opened the driver's door and got out, standing quietly behind Zhang Xiaoman. In a low voice, he asked, “Master, is something wrong?”

“The smell is off…” Zhang Xiaoman felt a foreboding chill in his heart. He pointed to the gray sedan. “This car belongs to Sima Bei. The urine smell in the air suggests he got out to relieve himself. But there’s also a very strong scent of blood…”

Nie Yi paused, biting his lip. “Master, perhaps things aren’t as bad as you think.”

Suddenly, a possibility struck Zhang Xiaoman, and his body trembled. “I shouldn’t have given him the exoneration order…” He hurried toward the small grove. “Old buddy, don’t mess things up!”

Hearing this, Nie Yi instantly understood Zhang Xiaoman’s meaning. His pupils contracted sharply as he followed him into the woods.

Zhang Xiaoman slowed as he ran, finally coming to a halt. He saw two bodies—one was someone else’s companion; the other was his old friend.

The other companion clutched his neck, his face twisted in agony; his old buddy hung his head, a faint smile lingering at the corner of his mouth.

Zhang Xiaoman clenched his fists tightly, gritting his teeth as he approached his old friend step by step.

“My name is Sima Bei—Sima as in Sima Yi—not a dead horse to be treated like a living one,” he muttered.

“Zhang Xiaoman, I’ll tell you a secret: my real surname is Si, not Sima. Heh heh heh…” The voice of Sima Bei echoed in his ears. Looking at the shabby old man a few steps away, Zhang Xiaoman saw him transform, as if rejuvenated, into a boy wearing the East Lake High School uniform. The boy smiled, waved, and said, “See you tomorrow.”

A murky tear trickled down Zhang Xiaoman’s cheek. He approached the old man, staring at the small knife lodged in his chest. He crouched down and sighed deeply. “How much pain you must have endured…” Sitting heavily beside the old man, he picked up a bloodstained envelope that fell between the old man’s legs. “He wrote a suicide note, and so do you. Can you not just imitate everything you see? You’re not a three-year-old child…”

Opening the envelope, Zhang Xiaoman scanned the simple line of words written inside and smiled through his tears. “Look at this—trying to imitate but failing miserably. It’ll only make people laugh…”

Nie Yi, who had followed into the woods, inspected Chen Zao’s body on the ground. Looking at Zhang Xiaoman’s endless muttering, he wanted to say something but ultimately stood quietly at a distance, turning his back to the two elders and gazing sorrowfully into the distance.

“To have no trace of worry in your heart, to forget as soon as you speak—that’s the truth within.” Zhang Xiaoman did not know how long he had spoken or what exactly he said, only that he had spoken more than he had in an entire previous year.

There is a lyric that goes: “Friends, walking together through life.” But in truth, many friends drift apart as they journey on, and few walk a lifetime together. Sima Bei and Zhang Xiaoman were on the verge of walking life’s path hand in hand, yet Sima Bei ultimately took the first step away.

Suddenly, the distant honking of a car horn approached, pulling Zhang Xiaoman back from his reverie.

Squinting, Zhang Xiaoman wiped the tears from his face and stood with a grim expression, walking over to the other corpse. He beckoned Nie Yi over. “Have you figured anything out?”

Nie Yi hurried to Zhang Xiaoman’s side. “One fatal stab, extremely ruthless… Judging by the attire, the deceased was impersonating that guy. I searched thoroughly and found nothing that could confirm his identity…”

“Let’s move him,” Zhang Xiaoman said, gesturing toward Chen Zao’s body. “Don’t leave him here—it’s too conspicuous.”

After a moment’s thought, Nie Yi understood and decisively said, “Got it,” hoisting Chen Zao’s body onto his shoulders and heading deeper into the woods.

Zhang Xiaoman returned to Sima Bei’s side and sat down. Looking at the fresh blood on Sima Bei’s chest, he blinked and dipped his finger into the blood, smearing it on his own face. Mimicking Sima Bei’s posture, he lowered his head—but instead of smiling, his eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly.

Nie Yi concealed Chen Zao’s body in a patch of grass and returned beside Zhang Xiaoman. His ears twitched as hurried footsteps approached from outside the woods. He knelt in front of Zhang Xiaoman and Sima Bei, letting out a mournful cry, “Ah!”

“Ah ha!”

Another mournful cry came from outside the woods. Elder Chen’s smile faded as he masked a sorrowful expression, joyfully kicking his legs as he ran toward the two seated figures. Behind him, a crowd of reporters with cameras hurried, urging, “Hurry, hurry! Don’t let Mr. Ghost escape! Capture him red-handed…”

Elder Chen looked at the blood-streaked Zhang Xiaoman and Sima Bei, the small knife protruding from the latter’s chest. A flicker of satisfaction flashed in his eyes before quickly turning to sorrow. With a choked voice, he shouted, “Damn Mr. Ghost, heartless and ruthless, betraying his master and ancestors! Causing both Professor Zhang and President Sima to perish! Ah ha, woe is me!”

“Ah ha!” another mournful cry rang out abruptly. Zhang Xiaoman suddenly raised his head, tears streaming down his face. “Old president, I told you I couldn’t be the president. But you insisted. Now look, I’ve firmly taken the position, but your disciple, little Sima, is dead. How do I face you now?”

Elder Chen froze, his expression stiffening. He cleared his throat and pointed at Zhang Xiaoman, speaking earnestly. “You’re too careless. You knew Mr. Ghost was ruthless and greedy, yet you boldly took the highway and then the back roads. Isn’t that like running straight into the enemy’s blade?” He pulled out a tissue and knelt down, gently wiping Zhang Xiaoman’s tears. “Don’t cry, don’t cry…”

Nie Yi, kneeling, glanced at Zhang Xiaoman and Elder Chen, then wisely stood and stepped aside, mindful and composed.

Zhang Xiaoman cast Nie Yi a grateful glance, sniffed, tilted his head, and said to Elder Chen, “Who told you Mr. Ghost killed him?” Holding the bloodstained note up to a nearby camera lens, he said, “Look carefully. It’s written plainly in black and white…”

Elder Chen frowned and turned his head. The bloodstained paper bore a crooked line of bold black characters: “It’s all my fault. He was just a child… I don’t want to live anymore. Suicide!” His mouth twitched oddly as he questioned, “Did he write this? Did he write it himself? Could it be a forgery by Mr. Ghost?”

“He wrote it himself,” Zhang Xiaoman swallowed hard. “I saw him finish writing it before he passed… He died for Green Vine City. He deserves a grand funeral!”

“A grand funeral! It will be more splendid than my own!”

“Everyone important must come!”

“They will!”

Zhang Xiaoman put on a mournful face. “I’m in a bad mood and don’t want to be interviewed. Tell them all to leave…” He waved at a camera. “To those who killed my old buddy, hear this—I will not let you off!”

Elder Chen nodded solemnly, clapping his hands with strong conviction. “Well said! We absolutely cannot let that mad Mr. Ghost go unpunished. The sect must be cleansed! Yes, yes, with Professor Zhang here, Green Vine City will see clear skies after the storm! With Professor Zhang, Green Vine City shines bright! Peace will return!”

“Let’s go, let’s go…” Zhang Xiaoman waved. “Let me have some peace alone for a while, so I can talk to my old buddy.”

“Take your time,” Elder Chen stood, clapped, then turned cleanly and left. “I’ll prepare a feast to welcome you later.”

In an instant, the throng of reporters dispersed, and the grove returned to its previous tranquility. Nie Yi carefully helped Zhang Xiaoman up and blinked. “Master, with the New Year approaching, that old fox is really looking out for the chickens, huh?”

“Hey!” Zhang Xiaoman pulled a tissue from his pocket, trembling slightly as he wiped the blood and tears from his face. “Even if he’s a fox, we’re not chickens…” He took a deep breath. “You know, Nie Yi, just now I almost lost it.”

Nie Yi scratched his head, puzzled. “Lost what?”

“For a moment, I really wanted to strangle that bastard to death!” Zhang Xiaoman’s face was expressionless. “Many people think I’m not fit to be the protagonist or the president because my personality isn’t distinctive, that I have no special traits. Do you think so too?”

Nie Yi pursed his lips, lowering his head. In an uncertain voice, he said, “You should have been quite handsome… I mean, when you were younger…”

Zhang Xiaoman rolled his eyes. “If you don’t know what to say, don’t say it.” He paused, then sighed deeply. “But I’m just an ordinary person. My IQ isn’t as high as Wang Jiujiang’s, I’m not as eloquent as Sima Bei, and I don’t have the endurance of Luo Ci… My brain is sick, thanks to myself setting a trap that forced a doctor to inject something into it—just to deceive myself… I became a professor because I worked hard; I became president because I was lucky.”

“I’m no different from most people in this world,” Zhang Xiaoman continued after a pause. “I cry, I laugh, I get angry… Just now I was really angry. For a moment, I didn’t want to care about justice or righteousness—I wanted to kill that bastard. And if I wanted to kill him, I’d have at least a hundred ways to get away clean. No one could catch me. But we can’t do that. Do you know why?” Nie Yi’s expression turned serious, like a student earnestly asking a teacher. “Why?”

“I’m no god. If someone bullies me, I won’t just smile and forgive him, or try to redeem him…” Zhang Xiaoman exhaled sharply. “Justice and righteousness aren’t lofty slogans; they’re necessary because without them, there’s only more bloodshed. For example, if I killed that old man today, someone would come kill me tomorrow—Xiao Xiao, Yunxi, even you!”

Nie Yi’s eyes suddenly grew cold. “Let them come. Let’s see if they can.”

“Whether they can or not is secondary. Over the years, many have tried to kill me and failed, but it’s really annoying,” Zhang Xiaoman looked exhausted. “It wears you down… So I held back just now. That old man wants to put on a show, so we’ll play along and give him a heart-stopping performance!”

“Master, what’s our next move?”

“Three steps: eat, bury, then when the job’s done, discard the bow when the birds are gone.”

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