Chapter 115: The Old Man in KFC

"Indeed, I miss that battle from long ago. This wretched, neither-human-nor-ghost state I am in now is a gift from your father. He is the only person I have ever truly admired in my life." The specter revealed a trace of melancholy, cast a glance at Song Nianqiang, and said slowly, "You are very much like him."

"This bottle contains an old friend of mine, who was also captured by your father back then. However, the fellow inside doesn't have a very good temper—he isn't as calm and collected as I am when speaking with you. I suspect that the moment he sees you, he will lose his composure entirely." With that, he strode to the bed and picked up the bottle.

"I don't think I will ever have the chance to cross swords with your father again in this lifetime, but heaven has been kind to me, letting me meet someone so much like him. I look forward to the day you reach your peak." As he finished speaking, the specter's shadow gradually blurred until it vanished into nothingness.

The chilling atmosphere in the room dissipated completely, leaving Song Nianqiang standing there, head bowed, as if ruminating on the words of the apparition that had appeared out of thin air. "Is this what my father went through? He was already so powerful back then—what level of cultivation has he reached now? I still have a long, long way to go to follow in his footsteps!"

However, Song Nianqiang was not one to be indecisive. If he could not catch up now, he would simply push it further—if not in this life, then the next, or the one after that. He believed that one day, he would stand at the same height as his father.

With this thought settled, Song Nianqiang realized there was an urgent matter he had neglected. He rushed out of the room, anxious about the condition of the Fat Man. But as he reached the ground floor, he collided head-on with the very person he was looking for.

Despite Song Nianqiang's speed, the Fat Man’s sheer mass was formidable. The impact sent Song Nianqiang rebounding back to land hard on his backside. Just as he was about to flare up in anger, he looked up and was stunned to see that the person standing there was indeed the Fat Man.

"Fatty! Weren't you taken to the hospital? What are you doing here?" Stunned, he stood up, brushed the dust off his pants, and asked. The Fat Man’s usual lecherous grin remained, but his reply nearly made Song Nianqiang choke: "Actually, I don't know what happened either!"

"Get lost, you idiot!" Song Nianqiang laughed, half-cursing. He circled the Fat Man three times, noticing he was exactly as he had been before—still full of blubber. Feeling a wave of relief, he patted the Fat Man on the shoulder. "As long as you're okay. Let's find a hotel and get some sleep; tomorrow will likely be busy for us!"

The Fat Man readily agreed, though he had one small request: having eaten early, his stomach was now growling with hunger. "You glutton, let's go!" Despite the teasing, Song Nianqiang decided to join him for a bite, as he was hungry himself.

The streets were nearly deserted, save for the occasional passing car. Their only options for food at this hour were 24-hour spots like Yonghe Soy Milk or KFC. They chose a nearby KFC and ordered a few combo meals.

They were eating peacefully until something peculiar happened. A server brought a meal to an empty table, set it down, and added, "Please enjoy your meal." Could a ghost really be bold enough to dine at a KFC?

Song Nianqiang and the Fat Man exchanged glances, their eyes burning with excitement. Spirits that did not fear the "fire" of the human world were rare; could they really be so lucky?

Simultaneously, they activated their Yin-Yang eyes and peered at the empty table. To their shock, there was no ghost there. Song Nianqiang frowned and gave the Fat Man a light kick under the table. Having grown up together, they understood each other perfectly; the Fat Man immediately grasped the signal. It seemed a quiet meal was not to be had tonight.

They continued to eat, chatting and laughing as if nothing were amiss. Just then, the KFC doors blew open with a gust of wind, and an old man entered—clothed in rags, his back hunched.

The KFC doors were heavy glass; even a child would struggle to push them open. Whether this was a coincidence or deliberate was clear.

The old man ignored them completely, walking straight to a table. He pulled a white object from a nylon bag and began to chew on it with a loud "crunch, crunch." At first, Song Nianqiang didn't think much of it, but when he saw exactly what the old man was eating, he nearly vomited.

"Damn it! That old freak is eating a human finger!" Realizing the old man was brazenly consuming human remains, Song Nianqiang stopped pretending. He stood up slowly, eyes locked on the old man.

"Gwa-gwa... Do you two want some?" A voice like a toad’s croak emerged from the old man’s mouth. He tossed a human finger toward them, which Song Nianqiang dodged. "Who are you? Are you human or a ghost?" Sensing the man was unfathomably deep, Song Nianqiang asked cautiously, not daring to strike first.

"What difference does it make? I am but a wandering soul, drifting to and fro in freedom. Gwa-gwa-gwa-gwa..." The old man seemed amused. His laughter was soul-piercing, making even the strong-willed Song Nianqiang feel an urge to kneel.

"Who are you exactly?!" Song Nianqiang stepped back, remaining on high alert. He could feel no Yin energy from the man, yet the wind that had blown the door open had clearly come from him. He was caught in a contradiction.

"Who am I? Just a passerby, a lonely, drifting soul with nowhere to anchor. I should ask you two—why are you out so late in this heavy rain instead of sleeping?"

The old man countered with his own question. Song Nianqiang remained silent, an unsettling thought dawning on him: "Why are there suddenly so many ghosts and mysterious figures appearing? Does this portend something?"

In truth, Song Nianqiang did not know—and few in the world did—that as the son of that man, he had become a catalyst. From the moment he stepped onto the path of ghost-hunting, the wheel of fate began to turn. An irreversible process had quietly begun, and things that had never existed in this world would now appear one by one. Song Nianqiang had only seen the beginning; the two entities he encountered tonight were merely the first results of that turning wheel.

"Hmph! Is our business any of your concern? Old man, don't push your luck. If you provoke us, don't blame us for taking you down!" Song Nianqiang saw the danger, but the thick-headed Fat Man did not.

"Gwa-gwa... Little Fatty, watch your tone. You should be polite to an elder like me, or you will regret it!" The old man sounded displeased. When the Fat Man retorted, "Quit acting like a senior; that act doesn't work on me!" and prepared to lunge at the old man, the situation threatened to explode.