Chapter Seven: Returning Home

Rumble, rumble, rumble!

Just as Song Nianqiang was about to take a break, a sudden noise erupted ahead. A beam of brilliant light shot toward them, forcing him to squint. After more than a week spent in the underground world, his eyes were unaccustomed to such sudden brightness.

“Damn! We can finally get out!”

Once his eyes had adjusted, the chubby man scrambled up from the ground and pointed excitedly toward the light source. “What are we waiting for?” Without another word, Song Nianqiang dashed toward the exit. Truth be told, the week underground had nearly driven him mad.

“Ah—!”

Emerging into the open air, Song Nianqiang threw his head back and let out a long, triumphant howl, startling the birds from the trees. The chubby man followed, panting heavily, savoring the fresh air with deep, greedy breaths. “This feels damn good!” Without caring what lay on the ground, he flopped onto the grass.

“Congratulations on passing the trial. In a week, you’ll be sent home, then on to First High School!”

No one knew when the old man had appeared behind them, but this time someone else accompanied him. Song Nianqiang, being half a martial man himself, could tell at a glance that the man behind the old teacher was no ordinary figure. He moved silently, much like Song’s own uncle.

“For the next week, Major will help you improve your physical condition. To become a true master ghost-catcher, a strong body is essential.” With that, the old man stepped back, yielding the space to the Major, who swept his gaze over the two and said in a deep voice, “Meet me at the training field tomorrow!” Without another word, he strode away, paying no further heed to the old teacher.

“Haha, good luck to you both. He’s the real deal. Learn well from him. I have business to attend to, but someone will come for you in a week.” The old man stepped forward to ruffle Song Nianqiang’s hair with a kind smile, then departed.

No matter what, the two had successfully completed their internship. As for strengthening his body, Song Nianqiang wasn’t concerned at all. His uncle had trained him according to strict military standards, so he was confident he could handle whatever came. The chubby man, on the other hand—given his layers of fat—would likely have a tougher time.

The next day, they rose especially early, not wishing to be late on their first day. They arrived well in advance at the training field, awaiting the Major’s arrival. At exactly 8:10, the Major appeared, as punctual as only a soldier could be. He barked at them, “Standing there like planks? Twenty laps around the field—go!”

Four hundred meters per lap, twenty laps—eight kilometers. Though reluctant, neither dared protest. You’d have to be tired of living to argue with a soldier. Not even ten laps in, the chubby man collapsed, sprawled on the ground and unable to rise. Still, the Major didn’t push him further; for someone of his size, ten laps was impressive enough.

“Feng Yingcai, get up!” The Major’s sharp command jolted the chubby man to his feet almost reflexively. “Walk two laps!” With no choice, the chubby man trudged onward.

“A promising seedling,” the Major thought as he watched Song Nianqiang finish all twenty laps. “Rest.” At last, Song Nianqiang collapsed in the shade, utterly spent.

“Song Nianqiang, your explosive power is impressive. Even our seasoned veterans can’t quite match it.” The Major turned to him. “My uncle trained me,” Song replied. “By the way, Major, have you ever heard the name Liu Zhaohao?”

The Major laughed. “Anyone who’s served knows that name. Rose from private to major general by thirty—his record is legendary. If you’ve got a problem, send him in and it’ll be solved, no question. How do you know him?”

“He’s my uncle—trained me for three years.” The Major’s face lit with realization. “No wonder,” he said, eyes thoughtful.

“Rest’s over—we continue!” The Major called them to the center of the field. “Fall in!” With no alternative, Song Nianqiang and the chubby man ran over. Glancing up at the blazing sun, the chubby man looked ready to cry.

Of all places, the training ground was the only one exposed to the full sun, and of course, that’s where the Major had chosen. The chubby man grumbled, but could only complain to Song Nianqiang.

Training continued until six-thirty in the evening. Before bed, the Major visited their dormitory and ordered two hundred push-ups and two hundred sit-ups before sleep. Exhausted, the two complied. Afterward, their heads hit their pillows and they fell asleep instantly, snoring almost at once.

Seven days passed quickly. Each day’s physical exertion was extraordinary, and the results showed. Now, when Song Nianqiang bent over, he could see a well-defined six-pack. His skin, sun-kissed, had a healthy glow, and paired with his handsome features, he cut a striking figure.

As for the chubby man, even the Major had to admire him. After such a punishing regimen, not a scrap of fat had disappeared—in fact, he seemed to be getting even fatter. The Major could only give a thumbs-up. “You’re tougher than me!”

“Before I go, I want a match with you, Major!” Song Nianqiang had donned a cheap tracksuit, sixty yuan for the whole set. The Major laughed. “Very well!”

The two squared off before the dormitory, and besides the chubby man, a number of ghosts had gathered to watch.

“Who do you think will win?” the chubby man asked a nearby ghost.

“In catching ghosts, Song Nianqiang. In a fight, the Major, obviously,” the ghost replied, with a look of disdain that suggested the answer was obvious.

Fortunately, the chubby man didn’t notice, or he’d have shown the ghost the power of his talismans.

“Ha!” Song Nianqiang was the first to move, launching himself at the Major like a hunting leopard. The Major’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he swung his fist.

Half an hour later, Song Nianqiang lay on the ground, gasping for breath. The Major, too, was doubled over, hands on his knees. No one had expected the match to end in a draw. The Major gave a rare, crude compliment: “If you joined the army, you’d at least make a full colonel. Damn, you’re tough!”

With that, limping, he headed toward his car. After lying on the ground for a while, Song Nianqiang got up, gathered his simple luggage, and hobbled toward the Beijing Hyundai that had brought him here.

“Ha! You lost, little ghost!” the chubby man called, punching the ghost in the head before hurrying after Song Nianqiang. “Not bad, kid! Didn’t know you could fight like that!”

The chubby man reached the car first and opened the door for Song Nianqiang. Inside, two elegantly dressed middle-aged men awaited them. As Song Nianqiang climbed in, one man turned and asked, “Are you all right? Should we take you to the hospital first?”

They had watched the fight from the car and worried Song Nianqiang might suffer some serious aftereffects.

Song Nianqiang waved him off and leaned back in his seat. “No need. I’ll be fine in a bit—I just want to go home now.” Seeing his determination, the men said nothing more. With a press of the accelerator, the car sped toward Song Nianqiang’s home county.

He drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the past seven days. He didn’t wake until the car reached his hometown, but in the haze of sleep, he overheard the two men in front talking.

“The child of that man is different indeed; he’ll excel in any field—except, perhaps, academics.”

“Haha, true enough. His father was always near the bottom of the class.”

Are they talking about my father? Song Nianqiang wondered. Why did he leave my mother and me behind? One day, I’ll find him and make him answer for the hardships my mother endured and for every tear she shed alone at night.

Wide awake now, Song Nianqiang silently vowed to himself.