Chapter Eighty-Seven: Peril Lurking and Mortal Powers

As he said, everyone is a slave to their own desires.

Some long for knowledge, others yearn to chase the past.

After a night's rest, when Chen Qing woke up, he checked his phone.

The previous commission had long been paid, but the exhaustion of many days left him unable to care.

The income from the commission, amounting to over two hundred thousand, was almost astronomical. Yet, weighing it against local housing prices, it no longer seemed that much.

After a morning of research, Chen Qing arranged to view a property located at the foot of a suburban mountain.

The houses there were somewhat aged, built early on as part of the city's expansion. However, subsequent development fell short of expectations—investments were scarce, the commercial district vanished, and gradually the area’s popularity declined.

Following several violent incidents, property prices plummeted sharply.

Ordinary people would hardly settle here, as shopping required a twenty-minute drive to the city center. But for someone like Chen Qing, with ulterior motives, it was the perfect fit.

He left the city and suddenly recalled it was still a workday.

After a brief hesitation, he nonchalantly continued heading away from the school.

He had yet to inform Jiang Wan and the others about his child, and had no intention of doing so now.

So many had died already; they needed to vent their stress first.

He walked toward the outskirts and only stopped to call the agent upon arriving at a community named Emerald Water Villa.

“Come to think of it... this name seems to be everywhere across the country,” Chen Qing muttered softly, taking in the surroundings.

Beyond the community gate was a highway; though sidewalks flanked both sides, shops were scarce.

A handful of small grocery stores selling daily necessities still attracted some patrons, but anything more demanding simply did not exist.

No food markets, convenience stores, or fast-food joints.

Only cold emptiness.

After waiting three to five minutes, the agent finally jogged out from inside the community. He looked worn out from a long day.

He glanced at Chen Qing, his expression subtly mellowing.

“Are you here to view the property?” he asked.

Chen Qing nodded, and the agent continued, “Let’s go inside and take a look. This place is quite large. Please wait a moment for the shuttle car.”

The agent’s attention seemed partially elsewhere, distracted.

He fiddled with his phone, scrolling through dozens of messages before snapping back and asking, “Are you viewing the house alone?”

Chen Qing nodded and replied, “Just me. If I decide to buy, will the contract be with you?”

“No, it’s with our company. Then there will be two tripartite agreements signed afterward.”

“Must the purchase amount be signed through a bank?”

“No guarantees, mainly yes. But if you’re paying entirely yourself, that’s fine too.”

Chen Qing nodded approvingly; this was considerate.

After all, no bank would lend money to an eighteen or nineteen-year-old.

Once aboard the shuttle, the two headed deeper into the community. The agent casually asked Chen Qing’s name and age, and introduced himself as Mr. Zhang.

The driver was a chauffeur hired specifically by the community management.

Apparently, to facilitate house sales.

“This community doesn’t seem very populated,” Chen Qing observed, surprised by the surroundings.

“From the gate to here, it’s almost a kilometer, and only about half the villas are renovated, with even the door paint peeling,” the agent pointed out the passing villas.

He laughed dismissively, “Though few people live here and it’s remote, it’s unbelievably cheap.”

He chuckled and continued, “Most residents are freelancers who might not leave home for ten days or more. Even if someone’s home, it’s hard to tell from outside.

“Occupancy here is about thirty percent, which isn’t bad.”

“Oh?” Chen Qing responded as the shuttle stopped before a cluster of buildings.

In front of him stood a two-story detached villa.

His gaze drifted as he surveyed the surroundings.

About a kilometer away was the community’s end, with an exit, but more importantly, a well-known mountain nearby.

The mountain was undeveloped, wild and desolate—an ideal place to disappear if followed.

But likewise, if someone was watching from there, it would be difficult to detect.

“Is the security here not very good?” he murmured to Bu Zhaozhao.

The agent immediately stepped forward to reassure, “Don’t worry! The community has patrol security guards! You have no reason to be concerned about safety!”

Chen Qing smiled but said nothing.

Meanwhile, Bu Zhaozhao’s expression grew peculiar.

“Seems like... many people have been watching you. Be careful.”

Though his face remained calm, his eyes flickered continuously. The apartment block on the left looked dilapidated; a second-floor window was open, but the home seemed unoccupied.

Moss had grown on the third-floor window sill, yet the dust in the upper left corner was unusually clean.

Despite the wind, clothes hanging on the fifth floor were motionless.

Beside them, two villas formed a block; one villa’s yard plants were dead, yet corners of the yard were filled with fertilizers and pesticides.

“This isn’t right,” he whispered lowly, yet showed little sign of alarm.

This wasn’t surveillance by extraordinary means, but more like facial recognition devices installed by some organization.

At worst, it could be a criminal syndicate.

Chen Qing chuckled lightly and followed the agent inside.

The villa was quite spacious—about 130 square meters over two floors, with a basement.

But the basement was small, likely insufficient for Bu Zhaozhao’s needs.

He opened the basement door; the stairs down were to the right of the entrance, likely intended as a cloakroom or wardrobe.

Descending, the stairs creaked loudly underfoot.

Inside the basement, with the light on, only walls surrounded him.

Not large, but about ten to twenty square meters of space.

Dust on the floor was thick, around two to three millimeters—clearly no one had been there for a while.

He turned and ascended, but paused slightly when his fingers brushed the railing.

While the railing was clean, the dusty floor bore no footprints—a contradiction.

Upstairs, the first floor was a large, empty open space, unremarkable.

Further upstairs, past the stairs and corner, six or seven rooms came into view.

He inspected each room; in the master bedroom at the end, an obviously aged, blackened mattress lay.

Several dried instant noodle bowls were left beside it.

“Don’t you clean out the trash?”

“We’re just the agents...” the man smiled awkwardly and then invited Chen Qing to see other rooms.

“This house is priced well—around 800 to 900 thousand altogether. If you don’t mind the commute, it’s perfect for a first home.”

Chen Qing was surprised; he knew the city’s housing market.

If it was really only around 800,000, it was indeed very cheap.

“When can we sign the contract?”

The agent blinked, not immediately understanding.

“Ah?”

“When can the ownership transfer?”

He emphasized again.

“Within the month! Within the month for sure!”

The agent’s eyes brightened at Chen Qing’s question; he knew this type of buyer—someone ready to spend.

He swallowed, mouth dry.

“If you want, you can sign a tripartite agreement first, start renovations immediately, and at month’s end, settle payment and transfer ownership directly.”

Chen Qing frowned, thinking briefly before shaking his head.

“No. Too many complications.”

After a moment, he told the agent, “A month is fine. I also need to purchase some things. I can pay a deposit first; the full amount I intend to pay in one lump sum. Is that okay?”

“No problem! Of course no problem!” Mr. Zhang’s face lit up with joy, nodding eagerly. His attitude shifted from distant to friendly in just half an hour.

About twenty minutes later, as they left the villa cluster together, Chen Qing glanced at the surrounding buildings and suddenly laughed.

“What’s so funny, Mr. Chen?” the agent asked, curious.

“Nothing...” Chen Qing shook his head, saying nothing.

But Bu Zhaozhao, watching from above, followed Chen Qing’s gaze and saw what amused him.

The third-floor window was covered with newspaper, and the fifth-floor clothes had all been taken inside...

The strangers had given up watching this place.

“Is it the organization of the Extraordinary Ones?” Bu Zhaozhao’s expression darkened.

Chen Qing shook his head, not directly answering.

He turned to the agent to stop him from offering a ride, using the excuse of touring the community, and headed toward the exit.

“No.”

“Are you so sure?”

“This surveillance method is too outdated to be the Extraordinary Ones,” Chen Qing said, eyes scanning the buildings.

Since leaving the villa cluster, the surveillance seemed to have lessened significantly.

“Probably some criminals. I’ll have Jiang Wan check it out when I get the chance.”

Just as he ambled out, a text message interrupted his thoughts.

The message was brief but made him frown deeply.

“Help—come quickly. Zhang Lan.”