Chapter 117: Ultimate Escape

The sky outside remained overcast, and though the wind had died down considerably, the Jaguar refused to start. Cheng Che twisted the key repeatedly, but the engine only emitted a few hollow, sputtering hums.

"Sounds like a mechanical issue. Cheng Che, let's get out and take a look," Zhang Qinglin said, opening his door and stepping out.

Cheng Che followed suit. After casting a quick glance at their surroundings, he stood by the hood while Zhang Qinglin pried it open, holding a flashlight steady for him.

Just then, a sudden chill crept down Cheng Che’s spine. He couldn't help but marvel at how bitter the cold felt in Xi'an after the rain. A gust of frigid air brushed past his neck and ear; he shivered violently, instinctively pulling his collar tight as he asked, "Is it fixed yet?"

Zhang Qinglin finished his inspection, finding no major defects—likely just some wear and tear on the engine casing. He told Cheng Che to try again. Cheng Che slid back into the driver's seat and managed to coax the engine to life after two attempts.

The Jaguar was finally ready to speed ahead again, but Chi Tan unbuckled his seatbelt, announcing he needed to relieve himself. Cheng Che grumbled, complaining that he should have gone while they were stopped, muttering about how lazy men always have the most excuses at the worst times.

Chi Tan wandered off toward the back, but within two minutes, he came sprinting back in a panic, his trousers barely fastened. He pointed behind them, gasping, "They’ve caught up!"

In the distance, flickering lights were slowly closing in on them.

Cheng Che scrambled into the car and slammed his foot on the accelerator. The Jaguar roared to life and surged forward.

The tires splashed through puddles, sending ripples of water flying. As they sped onward, they suddenly spotted a figure walking slowly along the roadside ahead.

The person wore a long-sleeved white shirt and black trousers. Their hair hung to their shoulders, and they were soaked through. Judging by their stature and gait, it appeared to be a man.

"Brother Che, look at him—he’s drenched. Walking alone on a night like this in the middle of nowhere? That’s something else! Should we give him a lift?" Chi Tan asked, staring curiously at the forlorn, drifting figure.

Cheng Che took a look and replied, "Might as well. We can ask for directions."

Zhang Qinglin, seated in the back, watched the figure with a strange gaze. He felt an inexplicable unease regarding the man’s silhouette and the unnatural way he moved. He was also worried about the two in the front—how could they be concerned for others when their own safety was so precarious? Still, he reminded himself that one shouldn't abandon all compassion.

As they drew closer, Cheng Che slowed the car and rolled down the window. "Hey, buddy! Do you know where we are? Is there a village nearby?"

The man stopped his rigid frame and jerked his head around with a sudden, mechanical motion. In a stuttering, halting tone, he replied, "This is... the Wei River Bridge..."

Chi Tan, leaning toward the window, frowned at the odd cadence of the man's speech. When he saw the face turned toward them, his expression shattered in terror, and he scrambled back into the car before the man could finish his sentence.

The man’s face was ashen, his hollow eyes staring blankly ahead.

Zhang Qinglin’s face went pale. "No! Roll up the window! Go, now!"

Cheng Che sped off, putting a hundred meters between them before catching his breath. "What the hell was that thing?"

"A 'Night-Roaming Corpse,'" Zhang Qinglin said, his eyes cold and sharp. "I noticed he wasn't right the moment we saw him. A normal person wouldn't walk that slowly in this weather, and his neck was completely stiff. His movements were far from human."

"What’s a Night-Roaming Corpse? Did we actually run into a ghost?" Chi Tan asked, his face full of dread.

"You’ve heard of Night-Roaming Corpses?" Wan Qing asked, her eyes lighting up as she turned to look at Zhang Qinglin in surprise.

"Yes. While the name suggests a corpse roaming at night, it is actually referred to as a 'walking corpse,'" Zhang Qinglin explained, his gaze fixed on the pitch-black road ahead through the windshield. "In medical terms, it describes a patient in critical condition with a poor prognosis—someone whose pulse is effectively dead, yet they continue to move. This is annotated in the 'Treatise on Cold Damage Disorders.' The man we just saw is an extreme case. His body and mind have begun to rot and decay; he has no self-awareness, no idea who he is or what he is doing. He is generally dull or unresponsive, his emotions are stunted, and his expressions are erratic—crying when he should laugh, laughing when he should be angry."

Wan Qing nodded slowly. "They are called Night-Roaming Corpses because they often suffer from Cotard’s syndrome. It involves a high degree of suicidal ideation and depression. Patients complain of having lost everything—including parts of their bodies or their very souls—and truly believe they are dead. They walk as if they are corpses. In reality, these people are quite cold and ruthless."

Chi Tan slumped against his seat, stunned. He had never imagined such things existed in the world—so it wasn't a ghost after all!

He looked at Wan Qing and asked, "What kind of strange illness is that? Sister Wan Qing, how do you know about it?"

"A friend of mine once suffered from it," Wan Qing said, her eyes flickering.

Cheng Che leaned forward, his hands tight on the steering wheel. The road ahead was uneven, filled with ruts and potholes. Just then, the Jaguar’s headlights flickered and died, plunging them into total darkness.

They drove a bit further until the road smoothed out, but the landscape on either side was no longer woods or wilderness. Cheng Che said curiously, "Why does this road keep getting more remote?"

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

A massive impact slammed into the rear of the Jaguar, causing the entire vehicle to shudder. The car tilted violently, forced forward. Zhang Qinglin whipped his head around to see the black car belonging to Wu Guangen ramming into them again.

"Damn that Wu Guangen! I’ve had enough of this! I’m going to end this right here!" Cheng Che shouted in a rage, slamming the car into reverse to ram back.

Zhang Qinglin grabbed the front seat, his body swaying with the car's violent movements. "Don't fight him head-on! We can settle the score later—just get us out of here!"

With a screech of grinding metal, Wu Guangen’s black car pinned the Jaguar and shoved it forward for nearly ten meters. Suddenly, the Jaguar’s wheels hit empty air, and the front of the car tipped upward, hanging over the edge.

"No! Jump out!" Wan Qing screamed, pushing her door open.

Cheng Che struck the steering wheel in frustration and frantically unbuckled his seatbelt. He glanced over and barked at Chi Tan, "What are you doing? Do you want to die?"

Chi Tan kept his eyes squeezed shut, shaking his head and muttering, "I can't swim..."

The Jaguar could no longer hold its position, and the entire body began to slide toward the void. Cheng Che unbuckled Chi Tan’s seatbelt and hauled him up just as Zhang Qinglin’s voice cut through the air: "Stop hesitating! Jump!"