The car has been parked in the garage for a long time, but Bai Mu still tightly grasped the steering wheel with both hands, his tongue pressed against his palate, savoring the thrilling taste. A faint smell of gasoline wafted in through the car window, teasing his nostrils and throbbing temples. It took him a long time to recover from the dizzy feeling, and his heart, silent all the way, was finally stimulated by the belated adrenaline surge, beating wildly and vigorously.
"Ah!" He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel, laughing deeply and joyfully.
Bai Mu had once suffered a serious car accident due to Bai Lin's unauthorized departure, and the feeling of being shattered and broken was still deeply engraved in his heart. He thought he would never be able to drive alone again, as the memory of the near-death experience had become an eternal nightmare, binding his hands and feet. However, just now, when he threw all caution to the wind and raced back, he realized how exhilarating and liberating it was!
The accumulated anxiety, sorrow, pain, and self-blame in his heart all dissipated in this cathartic release. Since the deaths of his grandfather and parents, this was the happiest day for Bai Mu. As he laughed, his eyes reddened, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his veins bulging from the force.
An elder slowly approached the car and, seeing the person in the driver's seat, couldn't help but reveal a panicked expression: "Little Mu, how did you drive back by yourself? Did anything happen on the way?"
Bai Mu quickly raised his head, the mixed expression of sorrow and joy replaced by a gentle smile: "Uncle Li, I'm fine. I drove the car back myself, and there was no accident on the way." As he spoke, his eyes flickered, feeling somewhat dazed. The smooth journey was something he never dared to imagine after parting ways with Bai Lin.
"Really? Come down quickly, quickly!" The steward, Uncle Li, anxiously opened the car door, afraid that his young master would have another accident if he was even a step late. He had watched Bai Mu grow up and naturally knew about his unusual fate.
Bai Mu dodged the hand reaching towards him, his voice hoarse from excitement and joy: "Uncle Li, I'm really fine. Don't touch me, be careful of bad luck."
"Eh, I won't touch you. Come down from the car right now." Uncle Li's face was filled with heartache and helplessness. To avoid implicating the people around him, the young master always consciously or unconsciously kept his distance from others. Would he become more and more reclusive in the future? Was his life going to be like this forever?
Bai Mu wanted to pat Uncle Li's shoulder to offer comfort, but he had to keep his distance. Just as he stepped out of the car, the high-safety luxury car, which was famous for its safety features, suddenly sunk almost half its height with a clanking sound. Upon inspection, it was discovered that all four tires had burst.
Uncle Li was trembling with fear, and Bai Mu was bewildered as he watched the scene, only to then realize—in all likelihood, his luck today was probably higher than those who had won billions in the lottery. If he had arrived home even a few minutes later, a terrible traffic accident would have been inevitable! On the way back, he had countless close calls with the Grim Reaper, yet he had escaped unscathed every time. If this was considered bad luck, then who in the world could be luckier than him?
"Little Mu, you must not drive alone again in the future, were you trying to scare Uncle Li? Don't you know how bad your luck is!" Uncle Li's voice abruptly stopped, then he exclaimed in shock, "No, something's not right! Little Mu, why is your luck so good today? You came home unscathed and then the car tires burst, this situation is too abnormal, isn't it?"
After Bai Lin left, Bai Mu had experienced various accidents—a car collision, being hit by falling objects from high places, being stabbed by a robber... Every day, he faced life-threatening dangers, as though living was a war.
He naturally knew that today's events were very abnormal, so he began to recall them frame by frame: It wasn't Bai Lin, as he wasn't with him when he was driving; it wasn't any of his subordinates, as they met every day, and if any one of them could influence his fate, it would have become apparent by now; it wasn't Master Zhou, who had said earlier that he couldn't change his fate, nor could he find him another "support," as a person's fate chart is unique. In other words, in this world, no one could replace Bai Lin's role.
Then who was it? What really affected me? Bai Mu struggled to think. A face shining like the moon momentarily flashed in his mind, then faded away.
---
Fang Luo slept in the bathtub for three days and nights. Meanwhile, a squad of detectives was still waiting for his next move. Almost two weeks had passed since he issued the death prediction, and the people at the top of the death list—Sun Ying, Fang Luoshan, Zhao Wenyin, and Cao Xiaofeng—were still living well.
The constant police protection had severely disrupted the normal work and life of these people, making them feel irritated and begin to doubt the authenticity of the death prediction.
"Stop following me! I may be a star, but I also need privacy! Fang Luo's death prediction is just a joke! It's been so many days, if he wanted to make a move, he would have done it by now!" Sun Ying randomly smashed items on the dressing table to express his dissatisfaction.
"What if he's waiting for this moment? What if he strikes immediately after we leave?" Zhan Zhen stood firmly in front of the door.
Sun Ying's face turned pale, showing that he also had such concerns. But when he looked at his phone and scrolled through Weibo for a while, he erupted again, "Look at this! I told you Fang Luo is playing us! Leave, get out of here, I don't need your protection, I've hired my own bodyguards!"
Zhan Zhen quickly walked over to check Sun Ying's phone, and his gaze immediately froze. Just a minute ago, Fang Luo's Weibo account had posted a line—The third one. However, all the people he aimed to take revenge on were under the strict protection of the police, and not even the second victim had appeared. So, how could there be a third one?
At that moment, Zhan Zhen's usually meticulous mind went blank, and it took a while before he could think normally again. He immediately called the other teams but found out that all the people under their protection were safe and had not encountered any danger.
"Captain, is the second or third victim really referring to someone seeking revenge? Could we be mistaken?" The team members started discussing in the group.
"Could there be someone not on this list?"
"Continue investigating Fang Luo's social circle! We may have overlooked something crucial!"
"It's unlikely. His life experience is too simple, and he only mingles with a few people!"
"Captain, do you think he's just joking? These celebrities nowadays do anything for publicity. Look, before he posted this on Weibo, he had just over 10 million followers, now it's over 60 million, it's good to be talked about, isn't it?"
"It's possible!"
"Maybe Gao Yize wasn't murdered but accidentally stumbled on something and fell from the top floor. Should we have the forensic team revisit the crime scene?"
As they analyzed further, they began to think that Fang Luo was just exaggerating. Zhan Zhen, however, remained silent in the group chat. When the discussion came to an end, he said in a deep voice, "The death prediction may be a prank, but how do we explain the painting? If it wasn't pre-designed, Fang Luo couldn't have depicted Gao Yize's death scene so accurately. Send two more people to monitor Fang Luo, and keep a close eye on his every move. The rest of you continue to investigate his social circle and see if we've missed anything. The case is very unclear at the moment, and Fang Luo is our only lead and breakthrough. Don't be misled by his strange behavior, continue to investigate as necessary. Resume the investigation into Gao Yize's background, we need more clues."
"Okay, Captain!"
"Got it, boss!"
"Roger that!"
Everyone left the group chat to act independently.
Ignoring Sun Ying's vigorous resistance, Zhan Zhen escorted him to his home in a nanny car. Late into the night, he still stood guard outside the apartment, never leaving his post and avoiding taking his eyes off his target. Sitting in the backseat, he took out his phone and went through all the Weibo posts made by Fang Luo.
Fang Luo used to be a member of a popular boy band, and due to his outstanding looks and prestigious family background, his popularity occasionally surpassed Gao Yize's. His fans flooded the comments with messages like "Brother, I love you," "Brother is so cute," and "Brother, can I?" But now, his Weibo comments section was filled with bloody curses, overwhelming abuses, and shameless humiliations. How malicious can a person's heart be? The answer to this question didn't need to be sought elsewhere; it was evident just by looking at Fang Luo's social media account.
Zhan Zhen had experienced gunfire and near-death experiences, and he prided himself on having a strong heart, yet he was suffocated for a second or two when he saw those comments. He pulled out a cigarette from the pack, lit it with the lighter handed to him, took a deep puff, letting the strong smoke fill his throat and nasal passage, stinging, but also dispelling the stench of abuses, curses, and humiliations that lingered in his mind.
One of his team members glanced at his phone and sighed, "Fang Luo is really something else. If I were in his place, seeing those comments would probably have broken me long ago."
"Words can be as sharp as knives." Zhan Zhen exhaled a plume of smoke, and for some reason, he found himself somewhat admiring Fang Luo. Only a person with a strong psychological fortitude like that could have planned such a seamless murder case, right?
Meanwhile, Fang Luo had woken up again and was lying in the bathtub, playing with his phone. The cold moonlight poured through the window, illuminating his gentle brows and eyes, as well as his body, which had somehow become plump and supple, with large patches of purple bruises vanished and his formerly frail arms now covered with a layer of slender muscles, firm and smooth, like a sculpture. The clearly defined ribs were now covered by delicate skin and flesh. His once thin body could no longer be described as slender, but instead was a rare sight of well-proportioned flesh and bone, and a fine-textured physique.
Fang Luo tapped the next page in the comment section, then let out a serene chuckle. To others, the incessant attacks, the rumors, and the slander were as harsh as the rainstorm and sword light, yet to him, they were merely amusement. What's more, he had accumulated a great deal of nourishment from them to fill up this body.
[Everyone, disperse, and stop the curses. I just checked, and all the people Fang Luo hates are completely safe, they haven't encountered any danger at all. These inexplicable messages he's sending are just for attention. The more eager you guys are about cursing him, the more you're playing into his hands! He's craving fame, don't fall for it! In my opinion, all those death predictions are fake!]
[Yes, I also think it's very fake! He doesn't have the guts to kill anyone at all!]
"Let's go, let's not give this lousy person any more attention."
"The barking dog never bites, this saying suits Fang Luo perfectly. He's just a mad dog who loves barking. It looks fierce, but it can be killed with a stick."
The more sensible people began to disperse, leaving behind only a few trolls purely to vent their negative emotions. Fang Luo licked his lips, shook his head in apparent disappointment, and put down his phone, then continued to sleep soundly in the bathtub. A strong and heavy black aura flowed in from all directions, silently nourishing his increasingly flexible body.
After three days, he woke up once again, and the once sharply defined contours of his face now seemed as tender as mutton fat and white jade. The sharpness and hostility had completely disappeared from his brows and eyes, replaced by a gentle warmth and a pleasant serenity that flowed from every twitch of his face.
He logged into Weibo and methodically wrote down a single line—The fourth one.