Chapter Forty-Seven: Hand-to-Hand Combat in the Foot Bath Palace

Du Fang held Luo Luo’s hand as they walked out of the residential complex, passing through the streets shrouded in night, ablaze with dazzling lights and flickering neon. At last, they saw six large, golden characters high above: “Golden Bucket Foot Massage City.”

At first, Du Fang regarded those words with a critical eye. But soon, the glare grew so intense that he had to lower his head.

This was Du Fang’s first time at a foot massage parlor. He had only ever heard rumors of such magical places, but the cost here was prohibitive—making this a forbidden ground he never thought he would set foot in. If not for Captain Zhang’s message summoning him here for fieldwork, Du Fang would have never come. He could swear he harbored no untoward intentions. He had even brought Luo Luo and his wife’s hand with him, as a way to keep himself in check.

“Don’t worry, darling,” he said, turning to the hand of his wife, which was hanging from his earlobe, gently pinching it. “I, Du Fang, am as pure as jade.”

The hand dangled like a wind chime, swaying lightly before slowly releasing its grip. Du Fang, clad in a trench coat, stood beneath the glowing sign, searching for Captain Zhang. Soon, in the distance, he spotted Old Zhang leaning against a heavy motorcycle, enveloped in smoke.

Old Zhang was smoking contentedly, one cigarette after another, like an old smoker with a thousand stories. Yet, upon seeing Du Fang, he instinctively stubbed out his cigarette. After all, Old Zhang still feared Du Fang would suddenly admonish him, “There’s a child here…”—robbing the cigarette of its soul.

“You’re here?” Zhang Changlin greeted Du Fang with a slight smile.

Du Fang nodded. In the darkness, Zhang’s face was even darker, and his smile revealed a blindingly white set of teeth.

“Captain, is it just the two of us?” Du Fang asked, puzzled. He hadn’t seen Si Nan, Chen Xi, or Su Nine Lives.

“Of course—why would you bring so many women to a foot massage parlor?” Zhang Changlin snickered.

For a moment, Du Fang was at a loss for words. Oddly enough, the captain had a point. Yet, from the tone, Du Fang couldn’t help but sense there was something less than wholesome about this “foot massage.”

“Captain, do you come here often? I didn’t even know there was such a big foot massage parlor near my place,” Du Fang remarked.

Zhang Changlin stiffened, shooting Du Fang a sidelong glance. “Don’t talk nonsense. I hardly ever come here.”

“I called you tonight for a mission—a field exercise. I’ve been planning this for you for a while.” Zhang Changlin wiped the smoke from his mouth.

“A field exercise?” Du Fang was taken aback. Training at a foot massage parlor? This sort of exercise… seemed like quite the test.

Zhang Changlin shot him a look and sneered, “Young man, don’t let your mind wander into impure territory.”

“Tomorrow is the new Dream Ferryman selection trial. I brought you here to toughen you up with some real combat—to let you taste blood. You perform well enough in the training room, but real combat is a different beast,” Zhang Changlin said.

Du Fang straightened, taking the explanation seriously. Real combat—hand-to-hand fighting? That reason was unassailable.

Still, if it was for a field exercise, why here? It all felt a bit strange.

Zhang Changlin couldn’t be bothered with Du Fang’s doubts. He turned to stare at the glittering sign of “Golden Bucket Foot Massage City” in the dark, eyes filled with criticism.

“Du, Old Su must have told you already—our Dream Ferryman team’s duty isn’t just to quell dream disasters,” Zhang Changlin began quietly. “Even as dream disasters are gradually brought under control, many sinister entities escape from them, possessing humans, taking over their bodies, and hiding in the city like venomous snakes, preying on victims and disrupting the peace.”

Du Fang nodded; Old Su had indeed explained this to him.

“A Dream Ferryman… seeks her in dreams, ferrying souls between the realms. Human crimes are for the police to handle, but the dream demons lurking in the night…” Zhang Changlin smiled, “Those are for us.”

“The world is chaotic enough. If we Dream Ferrymen, empowered as we are, began to do as we pleased, how much darker would it become? To protect the light is our mission. Those with power must shoulder greater responsibility.”

Du Fang nodded again. Zhang Changlin studied him intently, uncertain how much he truly understood. Still, he had to say it—he feared Du Fang might lose his way under the weight of his own power. It had happened before.

This world did not have only the Dream Ferryman Association. At home things were better, but abroad, some dream demons and fallen Dream Ferrymen had formed terrifying organizations. Zhang Changlin had already sensed Du Fang’s growing strength. He didn’t want to see Du Fang stray, so he spoke with heartfelt gravity.

“Come on, follow me. Watch and learn. Dream demons hide among humans, concealing their identities, waiting in the dark for the right host. Each one is a ticking time bomb. Our job is to capture and destroy them—to defuse those bombs,” Zhang Changlin said with a grin.

According to Zhang, there might be a dream demon hiding inside this massage parlor. Was the captain going to use this demon as his training exercise?

Zhang Changlin held a cigarette—unlit this time—and glanced at Du Fang. “Phones are dead, people are alive. Dream demons are like criminals; they’re not fools. They’re experts at surveillance and counter-surveillance. Often, you have to deduce the truth from the facts, relying on your own dream spirit’s senses.”

With that, Zhang Changlin pushed open the glass doors of Golden Bucket Foot Massage City. Du Fang fell silent.

“Hey, Brother Zhang, you’re back again?” called out a greasy young man at the front desk, who immediately brightened and hurried over. “Brother Zhang, right this way! The usual tonight? Shall I call for technicians 18, 19, and 20?”

He glanced at Du Fang. “And you brought a young friend too—no wonder you’re one of our best clients!”

So much for not coming here often, Du Fang thought, looking at Old Zhang. “Captain, you know him?”

“Not at all,” Zhang Changlin denied flatly. “He’s the manager—he calls everyone ‘brother.’”

“Brother,” the young manager called to Du Fang.

Du Fang: “…”

“Upstairs, Brother Zhang?” the manager asked, eyeing the handsome Du Fang.

Such a good-looking guy, and he plays just as hard.

Zhang Changlin removed the cigarette from his lips and waved him off. “Basement,” he muttered.

Du Fang was completely baffled, as if the two were speaking in code. But at Zhang’s words, the manager’s eyes lit up.

“Brother Zhang, young sir, this way please!”

The manager became instantly more enthusiastic, bowing and leading them ahead. Soon, they arrived at the elevator. The manager produced an access card and, after scanning it, pressed the button for the third basement level.

As the elevator doors opened, a wash of pink light flooded out, accompanied by a decadent scent. The manager led them to a locker room, instructing them to change into bathrobes and surrender all communication devices. Only then did he hand them identity tags.

Zhang Changlin took it all in stride, moving with the ease of an old hand. For Du Fang, the novelty was overwhelming—as though a new world had opened up before him. The whole process felt like something unspeakable was about to happen. Wasn’t this just for a foot soak?

The manager spoke into a walkie-talkie, then smiled and told them to wait, hurrying off.

“Captain… what exactly are we doing?” Du Fang asked, nervously trembling.

Luo Luo cocked her head, a sly smile on her lips as she stared at Zhang Changlin. The Hand of the Wife, at some point, was already hovering at Zhang Changlin’s throat, ready to strangle him at any moment.

Oblivious, Old Zhang simply turned to Du Fang, his expression suddenly serious. “Close your eyes. Release your dream spirit. Focus!”

“There’s a dream demon hidden somewhere on Basement Level Three. Find it. Capture or destroy it.”

A dream demon—here? Zhang Changlin’s stern words sent a chill through Du Fang, and the previously suggestive atmosphere instantly turned dangerous.

Suddenly, Du Fang felt his hand being shaken. Luo Luo was tugging at him. Looking down, he saw her nod, then shake her head, and finally raise a chubby finger in an “OK” gesture.

“Daddy, that bad uncle is wrong.”

“There’s not just one little dream demon…”

“There are three!”

PS: It’s Monday—friends, I beg you for your freshly baked recommendation votes!