Chapter 58: Set Fire And Loot Wealth, Follower Bug Takes The Stage
Fang Shu walked out of the room and immediately saw Li Hou Er waiting outside his house.
As soon as Li Hou Er saw him, he called out:
“Fang Ge Er, come on, my dad has set up a deal and sent me to find you. Second Uncle Yu Le is coming too to discuss it together.”
Hearing this, and seeing the other’s expression, Fang Shu visibly relaxed and nodded, signaling for the other to speak while walking.
When they reached the dining hall, the two quickly found Second Uncle Yu Le.
Seeing Second Uncle with his own eyes, the stone in Fang Shu’s heart finally dropped completely.
Li Hou Er pulled the two to the corner of the wall before speaking:
“The paper workshop burned down, and the neighbors in the paper workshop area are injured or dead, all scattered on the streets with nowhere to go.”
The other said mysteriously: “My dad already inquired ahead of time. The paper workshop burned down and won’t be rebuilt on the original site. Instead, it will be rebuilt as large tiled houses with green brick roofs.
They say as compensation, the original old residents of the paper workshop can buy first. Fang Ge Er and I are both from Du Gu Guan, so our families definitely qualify.
My dad says as long as we agree, and pull in two or three more families, we can get a whole one-courtyard house!”
Li Hou Er clicked his tongue: “By then, with houses and homes, we’ll all be well-off families in Gu Ling Town!”
Second Uncle Yu Le heard this, his eyes flashing brightly at first, then his brows furrowed tightly.
He squatted by the stove, suddenly puffing out a mouthful of pipe smoke, and sighed lightly:
“Brother Li’s news is reliable, probably not fake.
This is indeed an opportunity. You know, the tiled houses in town all have owners and aren’t easily sold. You can’t buy them even with money.
But in this town, building a house is simple, but the land isn’t. Where does the money come from…”
Hearing this, the joy on Li Hou Er’s face turned hesitant. He muttered: “Right, my dad is such a miser. Where would he get the money?”
Then Li Hou Er scratched his head, gave an awkward smile, and said: “I’ve delivered the message. Second Uncle, Fang Ge Er, just remember it.”
Then the guy quickly left the dining hall, heading out of the dojo with eager steps. He seemed to be going to ask Talisman Master Li Yuan how much family property they had left, especially after it was burned by that fire.
In an instant, only Fang Shu and Second Uncle were left by the stove.
Fang Shu then began to ask carefully:
“Second Uncle, what exactly happened in the paper workshop? Why did the whole street burn down?”
Second Uncle Yu Le shook his head, cursing first: “Pah! What a disaster!”
Then he detailed the paper workshop fire.
It turned out that last night, a strong wind blew through the paper workshop area.
It was autumn now, with dry weather and things. Somehow, a fire started in one house in the paper workshop.
A fire in the paper workshop was nothing unusual, just a small matter that happened every year. But this time, with the strong wind fanning it, the fire quickly spread through the entire paper workshop.
And coincidentally, that night, the gutters in the paper workshop were completely blocked by fallen leaves, stone blocks, and such blown in by the wind. The marketplace sent people to clear them and simply cut off the water supply to the paper workshop.
So when the big fire started, even if the paper workshop neighbors wanted to put it out themselves, there was no water to use.
They tried to call the marketplace people to put out the fire, but the firefighting team from the marketplace did come—yet ignored the paper workshop entirely. They quickly demolished a row of paper houses near the tiled roof area, then sent people to protect the tiled roof area.
When the paper workshop people begged them to put out the fire, the firefighting team demanded mobilization fees and water fetching fees—pay first, then fight the fire.
Just like that, amid the delays, the huge paper workshop with hundreds or thousands of households all burned to ashes, turning into an empty white wasteland with heavy casualties.
Second Uncle Yu Le bit his pipe and said:
“It hasn’t finished burning yet. If you go now, you can still see some embers.”
After hearing this, Fang Shu’s gaze scanned Second Uncle.
Second Uncle grinned, as if knowing what he wanted to ask, and said proactively: “Don’t worry, kid. Ever since those Black Tiger Hall people started causing trouble in the paper workshop.
Your Second Uncle rolled up his bedding and has been sleeping on the floor in the dining hall.”
Second Uncle Yu Le said proudly:
“Home just has some bottles and jars left. I couldn’t be bothered to check. After this passes, I’ll just rent another paper house.”
Hearing this, Fang Shu raised an eyebrow slightly, a grin appearing on his face as he said:
“As expected of Second Uncle. Old ginger is spicier.”
“Naturally. A gentleman doesn’t stand under a dangerous wall.” Second Uncle Yu Le beamed even more hearing this.
But suddenly, Second Uncle sighed lightly: “But little Dou next door, alas, at least she survived…”
Hearing this, Fang Shu frowned.
Upon careful questioning, he learned that after the fire started, Dou Su Fu rushed that night to save the milk products and belongings in her house, got badly burned by the fire, nearly died inside, and her face might even be injured.
The uncle and nephew continued chatting, and Fang Shu learned more.
According to the paper workshop neighbors, the owner of the first paper house to catch fire was someone Fang Shu happened to know.
It was the old man Su Qin Gao was staying with.
“Tsk tsk, that old guy was full of vigor just a few days ago, saying he originally planned to die in his paper house. But heaven wouldn’t take him. So he simply sold off his house and belongings, planning to move to Feng Yue Bridge in a few days for some carefree years and die there.”
Second Uncle Yu Le clicked his tongue:
“Who’d have thought, that guy’s crow mouth really spoke true. He really died in the house.”
“Such a coincidence?” Fang Shu’s expression turned odd.
Second Uncle Yu Le glanced at him and said gloatingly: “Yeah, just that coincidental. Of course, some say the fire was started by that Su girl herself.
Others say they heard the old man’s wailing screams at night, shrill as a pig being slaughtered. But everyone was used to their bickering, so no one paid attention.”
Second Uncle shook his head: “Thinking back now, the old man was probably burned alive.”
Hearing such a tragedy, Fang Shu’s face showed no ripples, just finding it amusing.
But his gaze sharpened as he recalled, when he dealt with Cheng Guanzi, overhearing that guy conspiring with someone outside his house.
Combined with Second Uncle’s mention of Black Tiger Hall causing trouble, this paper workshop fire probably had roots planted a year ago.
Fang Shu’s mind stirred, thinking darkly: “In that case, not only did Su Qin Gao kill her husband and burn the house, she might also be acting as Black Tiger Hall’s pawn, replacing Cheng Guanzi’s role?”
Then he asked about Su Qin Gao’s whereabouts.
Second Uncle Yu Le said:
“The marketplace has people looking for her too, with a bounty. Someone said they saw her flee outside the town.
Now not only are a bunch from the paper workshop heading out of town to search, but the town’s pack of jackals heard and ran out too, wanting to catch the girl for the reward. Even Black Tiger Hall hypocritically sent people, saying they’ll bring the girl back for questioning.”
Second Uncle shook his head with a sigh: “I think that girl, whether caught or not, is doomed.”
Su Qin Gao committed the heinous crime of arson on the street. Once caught, even if she colluded with Black Tiger Hall, they wouldn’t spare her—they’d likely execute her publicly to let the paper workshop neighbors vent!
And if not caught, a mortal who hasn’t entered the Dao, even with some preparations, might survive the day in the wilderness but not the night.
After all, even immortal cultivators who entered the Dao avoid spending nights in the wilderness unless necessary.
But hearing so many people searching for Su Qin Gao, Fang Shu’s mind stirred.
He pondered: “Should I join the fun too?”
After bidding Second Uncle farewell nonchalantly, a small bug flew out from his sleeve, circling and hovering in front of him.
This bug was a one tribulation gu worm Fang Shu refined in his spare time—the Follower Bug.
It could track thieves’ scents like a hunting dog, even river water couldn’t wash it away. It could also leave a mark on the thief and track the enemy at all times—quite useful.
But this Follower Bug was newly refined, and Fang Shu hadn’t tested it properly yet. He didn’t know if it was really as miraculous as described in the gu book.
Besides the Sleepy Bug and Follower Bug, Fang Shu could already refine all seven low-grade gu worms for firewood, rice, oil, salt, soy, vinegar, and tea. Only the Breath-Holding Insect was still under analysis, but it wouldn’t be long before Fang Shu mastered it.
Holding the Follower Bug, he felt eager to try. With a thought, he strode toward the paper workshop.
Such harmless excitement, even the poor paper workshop neighbors dared to join. Of course he would too—worst case, a wasted trip.
Perfectly, this could test if the Follower Bug was as amazing as the gu book claimed, catch the suspect for Sister Dou and the paper workshop neighbors, and maybe even snag a reward.
But before leaving the dojo, Fang Shu looked up at the sky, confirming it was still morning with hours until sunset.
Though joining the fun, he didn’t plan to overnight in the wilderness. Once night fell, even without gains, he’d return in time to avoid bumping into ghosts on the night road.
He went straight ahead.
Fang Shu familiarly returned to the paper workshop.
The once dense paper houses had turned into piles of ashes, still emitting smoke even now. Passersby covered their faces with cloth.
Seeing this, Fang Shu followed suit, pulling a face towel from his sleeve to cover his face.
He first went to his own paper house site, scanned it, and found it burned clean, like a pile of paper ash left from grave offerings.
Deeper into the paper workshop, cries of grief rose one after another—old and young, men and women, all mixed chaotically.
Besides the cries, people in black uniforms and hats beat gongs: “Don’t gather in crowds, don’t gather in crowds!”
“Those going to the western shantytown for resettlement can go now. Staying here is useless.”
But the paper workshop refugees, hearing this, didn’t gratefully comply—instead they cursed: “Pah! Don’t think you can drive us away.”
“You burned this paper workshop!”
The crowd shoved, conflicts erupting now and then.
Fang Shu took in these scenes without much care. Based on his memory, he wandered and reached Su Qin Gao and the old man’s paper house.
At the spot, he found he was too late.
Unlike the grave-like ash piles elsewhere, the ashes here were all dug out, even the foundation excavated.
Clearly, others had searched every inch.
Even the charred corpse in the center, still in a sitting posture with hunched body, had its chest cut open and mouth smashed to pry it apart—extremely undignified.
Even now, paper workshop kids were rummaging in the pit like chicks pecking rice.
Some kids noisily whipped the dried corpse with tree branches found somewhere.
Dust filled the scene. Fang Shu, face covered, squeezed forward to check traces.
As he checked, unfamiliar faces appeared too—some leading sleek-furred wolf dogs, others personally sniffing in the paper ash, heads down.
They muttered: “Damn it! Looks like we’re late.”
Then they pried out a pottery shard, porcelain piece, or cloth strip from not-fully-burned items in the pit, and hurried off toward outside the town.
Fang Shu blended in.
But he didn’t grab something and rush off. He carefully searched the miscellaneous items. Ordinary ones might retain scents, but not necessarily Su Qin Gao’s.
After searching, his gaze suddenly sharpened on the charred corpse.
Crack! Just then, kids yelled, stepping to snap the corpse’s neck, kicking it like a ball.
Fang Shu keenly noticed the broken neck’s spine still held faint blood color, not fully charred.
His mind moved. He released the Follower Bug, letting it crawl into the corpse’s chest, then into the blackened head.
Once the Follower Bug memorized the charred corpse’s scent, he called the gu worm back.
“Su Qin Gao’s scent is hard to capture, but the old man’s lingers.”
Fang Shu thought: “She lived with the old man day and night—maybe his scent clings to her!”
Though such indirect scent easily fades, and Su Qin Gao could shake it off easily, it was worth a try now.
Pocketing the Follower Bug, Fang Shu left the paper workshop.
Next, he bought some simple supplies in the marketplace, prepared, and headed out of town to the wilderness.
In the vast mountain forest.
In a secluded spot, Fang Shu took out the fox fur from his bosom, shook it lightly, and transformed again into a six-foot gray fox.
Buzz buzz!
A bee-sized bug flew up, circling nonstop over the gray fox’s head.
Bug and fox played like chasing games, winding through the mountain forest.
Next.
In the wilderness, Fang Shu encountered many with dogs or eagles—mostly mortals, a few immortal cultivators who entered the Dao. They kept restraint from each other, no conflicts, clearly all hunting Su Qin Gao.
But they all looked fruitless.
Fang Shu followed the Follower Bug, through forests and rivers, up and down mountains and valleys, covering dozens of li around the marketplace.
As the sun tilted west, he grew discouraged, figuring it a wasted trip, and planned to head back.
But as the Follower Bug passed a spot, it suddenly turned, darting straight in one direction.
Fang Shu instantly perked up.
But quietly tailing and hiding in the grass, he found the Follower Bug tracking not Su Qin Gao, not even a person—but a fat, glossy rat.
The rat’s tail was red. It walked and stopped, but headed determinedly somewhere.
This puzzled Fang Shu.
But he trusted the Follower Bug, trailing the fat rat to a river valley thirty-some li from the marketplace.
At the riverbank, the fat rat didn’t stop, nimbly jumping down the valley out of sight.
This tensed Fang Shu—he thought it spotted him and jumped into the river.
But his Follower Bug circled the river surface leisurely, then vanished from sight.
Fang Shu understood. He moved to another spot downwind by the riverbank, looked aside, and saw a inward recess in the rock wall.
Amid the river wind.
A faint painful groan of a woman was carried into Fang Shu’s ears by the wind.
That voice—whose else but Su Qin Gao’s!
