First-Year Internship—And You Went to Site 749 to Contain Monsters?!
Chapter 201: After Carpenter Yang Dies, Go Dance on His Grave

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Ten years ago when he was defeated.

He knew that youth was his greatest asset.

At worst, he could wait for Carpenter Yang to die and then dance on his grave.

Wasn’t that a kind of revenge too?

Originally, Changhai had almost forgotten about this matter.

But when the Golden Toad Nesting problem came up yesterday, it reminded him that he still had an old enemy.

And it happened to be a carpenter!

Alright!

No matter what, he was going to see if this Carpenter Yang was dead after ten years.

If he was dead, perfect—save him the trouble. If not, then he would make sure he died.

He reached back and knocked on the large jar strapped to his back.

"Hide properly, don’t let anyone see you."

As the child ducked back into the jar, Changhai strode onto the village road.

In a courtyard inside the village.

An old man, shirtless, was holding a hand plane, trimming a peeled log that was several meters long and weighed hundreds of pounds.

The old man’s hand rose and fell.

Each stroke of the plane sent large shavings flying.

Suddenly, the old man turned to look at the old wooden door.

There, a little girl in a red dress with two pigtails was squatting quietly on the doorstep, watching him.

Carpenter Yang’s face hardened: "Forgot what Grandpa told you again?"

The little girl had been watching happily, a smile on her face.

Now at the old man’s words.

Her smile instantly faded.

She hopped down from the doorstep and said quietly, "I didn’t forget."

The old man paused his movements: "Didn’t forget? Then recite it back to me—what’s the meaning of the doorstep, and why can’t you step on it?"

The little girl put her hands behind her back and recited, "The doorstep represents the face of the house; it gathers Qi and brings prosperity."

"The doorstep can block disasters and evil; stepping over it symbolizes preventing misfortune from entering the home."

"Stepping on the doorstep is stepping on dignity, stepping on disaster, must step over it to symbolize crossing over misfortune and staying safe."

The old man nodded in satisfaction, the stern look on his face easing into a smile.

"Good, as long as you remember. This is our family’s tradition, never forget it."

As he spoke, the little girl ran over and hugged his leg, looking up at him with eyes brimming with tears.

"Sorry, Grandpa, I’ll never step on the doorstep again, please don’t kick me out."

The old man bent down and picked her up: "How could Grandpa kick you out? You’ve eaten so much of Grandpa’s rice—you have to take care of Grandpa when you grow up."

The little girl wrinkled her nose.

"Grandpa takes care of me now, I’ll take care of Grandpa later."

Hearing this, the old man smiled warmly. He had lived a life full of hardship and loneliness, never having a child of his own.

Maybe heaven had pity on him.

In his old age, he found a little one to raise, and now she had grown so much.

As for this talk of taking care of him, it was just the old man teasing her.

His health wasn’t what it used to be, but he was still strong—he wouldn’t die in ten or twenty years.

He set the little girl down.

He said, "Today you’ve been very good. As a reward, go to the cupboard and get yourself a few candies, but not too many or you’ll get cavities."

"And then you’ll be, ‘Ow, ow...’" the old man clutched his face and hopped around, exaggerating a fake toothache.

The little girl laughed happily, bouncing toward the house.

As she crossed the doorstep in one big step, she tripped and fell inside.

"Ow..."

"Hahahahahaha Yaoyao, slow down, don’t..."

The old man’s carefree laughter stopped abruptly.

His expression instantly turned serious as he stared silently at the doorstep.

The little girl dusted herself off and turned around, startled by his look.

She thought Grandpa was mad again.

Before she could say anything.

She heard the old man say,

"Yaoyao, do you remember the little secret room Grandpa built for you?"

The girl nodded: "I remember."

"Go hide in there. There’s food, water, and your favorite snacks. Don’t come out until Grandpa calls you, no matter what."

The little girl pouted her round cheeks: "What if I finish eating and Grandpa still hasn’t called me?"

The old man crossed his arms and mimicked her pout, glancing up at the sky: "Hmph! Then you can come out."

Seeing Grandpa smile again, the little girl happily skipped back inside, saying one last thing before she left: "Grandpa, you have to call me early, or else I’ll fall asleep."

The old man picked up his hand plane and muttered quietly, "Grandpa will call you... if I’m still alive..."

He raised his hand, infusing it with spiritual energy, and wiped the rusted plane blade.

A sharp glint flashed across the edge.

The old man then went into the room and took out his tool bag, slinging it around his neck.

Dragging a chair, he sat down grandly by the door.

Meanwhile.

Outside the village, Lu Ding also arrived.

Getting out of the car, he casually asked an old lady feeding chickens for directions, and she pointed him straight to Carpenter Yang’s house.

Lu Ding repeatedly thanked her: "Thank you, ma’am."

The two of them quickened their pace.

Meanwhile, on the small path outside Carpenter Yang’s house.

A figure approached slowly until he stood before the brick wall and iron gate. Changhai stopped cautiously.

Through the gap in the iron gate, he saw Carpenter Yang, who had been waiting there for a long time.

"Uncle Yang, long time no see."

Carpenter Yang lit his tobacco pipe, took a puff, and sneered coldly: "Don’t call me that. I’m not like you young punks. Want to know if I’m fine? Come in and see for yourself."

"Uncle Yang, you’re joking. I wouldn’t dare just waltz into your courtyard."

Although he kept smiling on the outside.

Inside, Changhai was cursing Carpenter Yang up and down.

You old f***, are you still alive and kicking?!

Still full of energy at your age? Why the hell aren’t you sick yet?!

Carpenter Yang couldn’t be bothered to talk nonsense with him and got straight to the point: "Cut the crap. Why are you here? We’re not friends."

"Nothing much, just want to borrow your carpenter’s chalk line."

The old man took another puff of his pipe, then casually pulled out a carpenter’s chalk line from his bag and tossed it over.

"What, you’ve taken up carpentry? Learned it from your old master’s wife? Here, take it and scram."

Seeing the chalk line thrown at him, Changhai’s face darkened frighteningly.

"You know I’m not talking about this one."

Hearing this, the old man knocked the ashes off his pipe and set it aside.

"Of course I know. But why should I lend it to you? Just because you’re called Changhai? Because you have a long face?"

The more Changhai listened, the more annoyed he got.

This old b***ard’s temper had only gotten worse over the past decade.

Wait!!

He was bluffing...

Realizing this, Changhai’s face twisted into a sinister smile, finally bursting into laughter.

"Hahahahahaha old man, you’re done for, aren’t you? You’re bluffing, trying to scare me!!"

"If you don’t lend it to me today, I’m coming in..."

As he spoke, Changhai took down the big jar from his back and placed it on the ground.

He formed a spell gesture.

A pale hand reached out from inside the jar, its fingers moving at bizarre angles.