Chapter Twelve: Buying Your Ancestral Grave for Ten Times the Price

Overjoyed beyond expectation, I never imagined not only catching a ride but also traveling alongside a beautiful woman.

Settling into the passenger seat, a delightful fragrance greeted me. Unlike ordinary perfume, it carried a faint warmth, as if I were enveloped in the intimate boudoir of a lady, awakening my thoughts involuntarily. Light, trendy pop music played softly in my ears, soothing and pleasant.

The elegant young woman’s eyes flickered as she glanced at me, a subtle smile curling at the corner of her lips before she accelerated the car swiftly.

“Thank you so much, miss. I happened to have an urgent matter,” I said gratefully.

She smiled gently. “What’s your name?”

“Chu Fan. And yours?”

“Sister Yuan.”

“Sister Yan? Which Yan?”

“Yuan, like in Gongyuan,” she said with a smile, casting a curious look my way. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a driver and bodyguard,” I replied with a faint smile.

“Oh?” Sister Yuan looked surprised, appraising me with interest. “So that BMW just now was your employer’s?”

“Yes.”

Her smile deepened. “You mentioned compensating for the damage at full price—that can be quite costly. What’s the emergency that you couldn’t just call a taxi with Didi?”

Didi? I’d never heard of it; I must be really out of touch.

I sighed softly. “No choice. Someone’s trying to desecrate my family’s grave—I can’t afford to waste a moment.”

“Digging up a grave? That’s an emergency indeed! Hold on tight!”

With a roar, the car surged forward. I quickly fastened my seatbelt, but warmth stirred inside me; Sister Yuan was genuinely kind-hearted.

The twenty or so miles flew by in under ten minutes under the furious pace of the sports car, despite narrow roads and her caution not to damage the chassis on unfamiliar terrain. On the highway, the time would have been less than half.

Following my directions, she stopped the car at a fork leading into the village, where the road turned to mud—too rough for a sports car.

“Thank you so much, Sister Yuan,” I said, unclasping my seatbelt.

She turned to study me and smiled. “You seem like a man of character, mentally strong too. What’s your background?”

“A boxer.”

“Oh! A boxing expert! You must be skilled. Any honors?”

She pulled out a pack of women’s cigarettes from her purse, lit one, and handed me another.

I took it, lit it casually, inhaled the faint floral aroma, and smiled. “I’m half a boxing champion.”

“Champion? Provincial? National? Or world?” Her eyes brightened as she elegantly exhaled smoke.

I didn’t want to dwell on it, opened the door, and said with a smile, “Sister Yuan, thanks again. Let’s talk about that some other time—I need to hurry home.”

She leaned back gracefully against the leather seat, casting a sidelong glance my way, a charming smile playing on her lips. She took another slow drag of her cigarette and exhaled softly. “Meeting a woman as beautiful as me, don’t you want to leave your contact? How about we go for a drink tonight?”

I was momentarily stunned—such good fortune!

Clearly, Sister Yuan was someone of significance. Most would hesitate, but I had the heart of a tiger—no matter who you are or what games you play, I fear nothing.

“All right! Here’s my number, and let’s add each other on WeChat.” I pulled out my phone.

She immediately laughed, took out her phone from her bag, and we exchanged numbers and added each other as friends.

After saving it, she smiled. “When you head back to the city, give me a call. If I’m not back yet, I’ll come pick you up.”

How could I refuse? I laughed, “You’re so kind, Sister Yuan.”

She exhaled smoke slowly. “Not everyone gets to add me on WeChat or phone. Since you did, we’re friends now. Giving you a ride is nothing.”

“Thanks in advance, Sister Yuan,” I said brightly, waving goodbye. “I’ll head home first and get in touch later.”

From the fork, a few hundred meters of dirt road led to Cangqing Village, flanked by fields, now mostly barren as most villagers had left to work elsewhere.

I strode forward, looking up to see scattered houses at the foot of rolling green hills—some simple earthen homes, others rural villas.

Eight years away, the village had changed dramatically.

I couldn’t help but recall carefree days running through the fields as a child, surrounded by many friends, with my little sister clinging to me, trailing behind all day.

She came with my stepmother from the city, more beautiful than anyone in the village—fair and supple skin, large eyes framed by long lashes, blinking adorably. After I complimented her on that, she often blinked at me teasingly.

I wondered what she was like now, where she might be.

Crossing the dirt road, I took a narrow path up the back mountain toward my parents’ graves.

From afar came the clamor of voices. Looking up, I saw dozens of villagers gathered at the foot of a small hill, beside a parked excavator.

That was where my parents were buried.

Seeing the excavator, my expression darkened immediately. I quickened my pace.

Liu Tiedong stood at the crowd's edge and spotted me at once, shouting, “Chu Bufan is back!”

All heads turned, scrutinizing me curiously.

Eight years had passed; many seemed unable to recognize me at first glance. Most were elderly but looked much the same—I recognized them instantly.

Liu Tiedong, my childhood playmate, approached with concern. “Good thing I kept your number last time, or we wouldn’t have found you.”

“Thanks a lot. I owe you a meal,” I said, patting his shoulder with a faint smile.

He was off work today, home in time to stop this madness.

I greeted the other villagers, who marveled at how tall and grown I’d become.

Then, from the back of the crowd, a middle-aged man sneered sarcastically, “Chu Bufan, quite the attitude. We’ve been waiting over an hour—you know the excavator costs hundreds an hour!”

Zhang Tianhu, a wealthy man in the village. He wore a black T-shirt and baggy jeans, fat and bloated, hair slicked back, a thick gold chain around his neck, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He sized me up with contempt, apparently unimpressed, as if I weren’t very successful.

Next to him was a black Audi A6L, its windows tinted dark, gleaming ominously.

I cast him a cool glance before turning my eyes to the graves of my parents, side by side.

My face darkened instantly, fury rising. My father’s grave had already been dug into by the excavator, revealing a glaring, horrifying pit.

Zhang Tianhu, seeing I ignored him, felt slighted and scowled, “No manners! How did your father teach you?”

I glanced at him expressionlessly, ignoring his taunts, and addressed the excavator driver smoking in the cabin. “Fill the dirt back in first.”

No matter what, I had to restore my father’s grave.

The driver looked at Zhang Tianhu.

Zhang scoffed and waved a hand, signaling no hurry. He leisurely took a puff, then said flatly, “Young punk, quite the attitude!”

Clearly, he thought my ignoring him was a sign of lost face, so he was putting on airs.

A classic nouveau riche rural bully, believing wealth granted him dominion over the village and demanding respect, without considering how vile it was to dig up someone’s grave.

His family had long been unpopular here; everyone watched him coldly.

My anger burned hot. I snorted, lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and started toward him.

Let’s see if you can stay proud when you’re howling like a wounded beast.

Noticing my approach, Zhang Tianhu’s eyes flickered with caution, though he maintained his arrogant sneer.

“Chu Bufan!” Liu Tiedong, sensing I was about to act, caught my shoulder.

At that moment, the rear doors of the Audi flung open, and a man and a woman stepped out.

The man, about twenty-four or twenty-five, dressed neatly in casual clothes, carried himself with haughtiness; the woman, in her early twenties, wore a floral dress and heavy makeup, clutching a black bag—fairly attractive.

“Dad, let me talk to him,” said the man.

That was Zhang Tianhu’s son, Zhang Dalong, and presumably his girlfriend.

Zhang Dalong was younger than me, raised in the city and attending school there, so we were not very familiar.

“Chu Bufan,” Zhang Dalong strode forward with a proud smile, “We didn’t expect you to be alive. But the excavator’s here, and the pig farm is planned. This won’t stop—that’s how we do business! Since you’re back, just say how much you want.”

Only then did I realize they intended to build a pig farm on the site.

His girlfriend gave me a sideways glance, pulled out a thick stack of hundred-yuan bills, and said in a coquettish voice, “This is the countryside, not the city. As long as you’re reasonable, we won’t shortchange you.”

Clearly, they had already decided to settle this with money.

My steps halted under Liu Tiedong’s grip.

The villagers stared at the thick wad of cash, silent, waiting to see if I would sell.

Some older villagers, simple and sincere, warned anxiously, “How can you sell your parents’ grave? That’s inviting divine retribution! Bufan, don’t do such a thing!”

“Yeah, selling your ancestors’ grave? How could you?”

The scene stirred a bitter laughter from me, my anger quietly shifting to a cruel mirth.

Taking a deep drag, I strode to the woman, snatched the money from her hand.

“No, Bufan! Don’t sell it!” The villagers gasped, genuinely believing I meant to sell out.

“Hey, what are you doing? Robbing money?” Her face changed, reaching to grab it back. “You think this is the city? Land is precious there!”

My expression darkened. A slight flick of my hand sent her staggering back several steps.

Without a word, I lit a lighter and set the bills aflame.

The stack caught fire quickly.

Gasps erupted around me.

“Stop!” Zhang Dalong shouted, rushing to snatch the money.

I sneered and suddenly kicked out, striking him squarely in the chest.

Bang!

Zhang Dalong cried out, clutching his chest as he stumbled backward.

“Damn!”

Zhang Tianhu’s face changed drastically. Jumping up, he delivered a fierce kick from my left side.

I twisted slightly, swinging my left leg back.

Smack!

My foot landed solidly on Zhang Tianhu’s face.

He screamed in pain, spitting out teeth as he spun and fell crookedly.

Both Zhang Dalong and Zhang Tianhu lay on the ground, unable to rise, only wailing in agony.

My kicks were no match for ordinary men like them.

The woman shrank back, frightened, watching me with wide eyes.

I gave her a cold glance and ignored her. The money in my hand was half burned. I waved gently to let the fire consume it thoroughly, then tossed the burning bills into the air, where they scattered like fiery petals.

The villagers watched in stunned silence.

I strode over to Zhang Dalong and pressed my foot down on his chest, towering over him, glaring fiercely.

“How much for your family’s ancestral grave? I’ll buy it for ten times that price!”

Zhang Dalong’s face contorted in pain and fear, unable to reply.

Suddenly, behind me, Zhang Tianhu’s urgent voice rang out: “Shan Ge, quickly… call two trucks and people to the foot of the mountain behind my old home. No, make that three trucks—no, as many as possible. We’re in trouble, urgent! Bring weapons!”

I turned to see Zhang Tianhu lying on the ground, making the call.