Chương 7: No Joking Matter

"My wife…"

Song Zhuyu almost purred. His voice, which had sounded good to begin with, turned mellow and emotional, seemingly as if it was dripping with tender and amorous affection.

Luckily, there was no one in the underground parking lot except for the security guard in his post, who had gotten so used to the sight of Song Zhuyu romancing his motorcycle that he didn't even bat an eyelid anymore, or else only God knew what kind of chaos would erupt.

With a languid sigh, Song Zhuyu gently wiped the metal body of his motorcycle with a clean cloth, his movement oh so gentle as if he was caressing his lover.

"Have you missed me?" he asked, despite knowing that the inanimate object would never be able to answer him.

Meet Song Zhuyu's motorcycle— named Wife.

He had purchased this by saving up the money he received from doing exorcisms for almost three years, so it was as important as his own life. He only took it out for a ride on nights when the mood struck him just right, or when he was feeling extremely bored, like tonight.

With a swing of his leg, he suavely mounted the motorcycle, secured the helmet on his head, and slipped the fingerless gloves on. As he twisted the key, the machine let out a throaty growl, its twin headlights piercing the dim parking lot like beacons, illuminating his silver eyes peering from behind the visor.

Song Zhuyu couldn't contain his laughter as the engine roared to life, sending vibrations rippling through the frame. He could already feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through him; it was intoxicating, surpassing even the thrill of escaping a colony of wraithlings. Waving at the security guard, he raised the kickstand and closed his helmet, prompting the motorcycle to surge forward like a shot of meteor.

"See you later, Uncle!"

Even before Song Zhuyu's last word settled in the air, he had already vanished from sight, leaving only a crimson trail behind.

"Yeah, yeah," the security guard waved nonchalantly, not even taking his gaze off the small TV screen inside his post.

The bright red Ducati effortlessly weaved through the cars on the street, its movements sleek and elegant. It didn't even take Song Zhuyu five minutes to reach his destination— the Yacheng flyover. From afar, he could already spot another motorcycle, pitch black in color, parked on the side road with Zhen Yan perched on top of it, smoking.

Unlike Song Zhuyu, whose face could put all women to shame, Zhen Yan was a textbook example of an Alpha male— sharp and aggressive features, buzz cut, and a piercing on his right brow.

As soon as the red Ducati came near, Zhen Yan snuffed out the cigarette and tossed it into the nearby trash bin, raising a hand to wave at Song Zhuyu.

"Hey, Lao Song!"

But Song Zhuyu did not stop. He did not open his helmet either, but simply flipped the other man a middle finger before revving the motorcycle and speeding off.

Bursting into laughter, Zhen Yan hurriedly donned his helmet and got onto his own motorcycle, hollering, "Fuck, wait for me!"

The two of them leisurely rode around the city, enjoying the chilling breeze and the dazzling lights from the skyscrapers. And when they had enough, they stopped at a roadside stall to purchase sweet potatoes, finding a nearby spot to sit and enjoy the snack.

Before taking a bite, Song Zhuyu made a quick sign of the cross and murmured a brief prayer. "So," he began, blowing on the steaming sweet potato before taking a small bite, huffing and puffing from the heat. "What have you been up to lately?"

The two of them didn't always keep in touch. Sometimes, when they were busy with work, they would lose contact for months, only to meet up over some BBQ and beers, or to take a ride around the city.

Song Zhuyu counted internally and realized that it had been nearly one and a half months since he'd last heard from the other man.

"Same old, same old," Zhen Yan replied casually, taking a huge chomp out of his potato. "It's all mundane, you know? You get up every morning, go to work, meet some people, go home and sleep, repeat. I'm more curious about you. What did you do to get grounded for five days?" At the last question, Zhen Yan shot him a look full of curiosity, the desire to gossip written all over his face.

This time, Song Zhuyu could finally fulfill his wish and hurl the sweet potato's paper wrapper at Zhen Yan's face, which the man dodged with a mixture of curses and laughter.

"If you already know the news, why didn't you bother finding out the reason behind it?" Song Zhuyu asked, his tone laced with disdain.

In response, Zhen Yan shook his head and glared at him with faux annoyance. "Well you know how I've been chatting up Miss Li from the secretarial department these past few months? You just sorta came up in the conversation, but she wouldn't spill the beans because it's apparently a company secret." He clicked his tongue. "You guys just look more and more like a spy organization to me."

Well, count himself lucky that I'm in the mood to talk, Song Zhuyu grumbled to himself. With a sigh, he recounted everything that had happened that day, making sure to present the facts without bias so that Zhen Yan could form his own judgment.

At first, Zhen Yan listened while munching on his sweet potatoes, but by the end of the story, he was so shocked that his mouth fell open, the potatoes forgotten.

"Holy shit, you hallucinated? You, of all people?" He asked in disbelief. "Aren't you supposed to be immune to that kind of thing??"

Song Zhuyu snapped his fingers, satisfied with the man's reaction. "Exactly! That's what I told Chief Song, but he just wouldn't believe me." Groaning, he leaned back on his chair and tilted his head to look at the pitch-black sky, lamenting. "The evidence and witnesses are all against me, so what else can I do? It's all so bizarre that even I find it hard to believe. I sounded like a complete lunatic. For God's sake, what a way to add to my black history…"

Zhen Yan furrowed his brow, his expression getting serious. "Hey, this is not a joking matter. You know that, right? How could something like this happen to you out of nowhere? Think about it. Have you encountered anything odd recently?"

"I haven't—" the words of denial was already hanging on the tip of Song Zhuyu's tongue, only to be stuck when a sudden thought crossed his mind.

Anything odd…

Wasn't the forsaken mark on his right hip the most glaring evidence of all?

Song Zhuyu blinked, stunned by this new revelation that had completely slipped off his mind. It was because he'd been carrying this mark for almost two months now, yet aside from getting roughed up a bit every time he crossed over, nothing significant had occurred, so he unwittingly lowered his guard.

Could the strange hallucination possibly have something to do with it?

As he pondered, a searing heat suddenly emanated from the area of the tattoo. Song Zhuyu reflexively patted it, only to feel a familiar round marble nestled deep within his pocket. The marble must have absorbed his body temperature, making it a little warm to the touch. Song Zhuyu couldn't help but slip a hand into his pocket and roll the smooth marble back and forth between his slender fingers as he delved into deep contemplation.

"Well?" Zhen Yan prodded, noticing Song Zhuyu lost in thought. "There is something, isn't there?"

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