First-Year Internship—And You Went to Site 749 to Contain Monsters?!
Chapter 307: Your Mom's Not a Woman? Your Dad Sh*t You Out? (4/4)

...

In Yunhai, who didn’t know that Yan Feifan rolled with Lu Ding?

[Investigator Lu came too? Guy doesn’t take a break, huh?]

[What are you talking about, we’re all on the same team—if Investigator Lu’s taking it, that’s that.]

[Feifan, tell Lu that we’re not far away. When we meet up, let’s grab a drink. My treat.]

[Well, isn’t this perfect timing—we just got here too. No worries, Feifan, tell Lu we’re just passing by. If anything comes up and you need help, drop a message in the group—we’ll be right there.]

Seeing how respectful everyone was,

Yan Feifan replied: “Thank you, thank you, thank you all, big bros. I’ll definitely pass the word to Lu.”

After sending the message, he turned his head: “Lu, it’s done. Just show up and clock in when we get there.”

The sky was almost fully bright.

Xianshan Town.

The rooster’s crow rang out.

Looking that way—

At the very edge of Xianshan Town sat a small farmhouse courtyard.

A wisp of smoke rose from the chimney.

Not long after—

Carpenter Yang came out carrying a big bowl. He dragged over a long wooden bench,

Didn’t sit—just squatted on top of it.

Pulled out a whole garlic bulb, broke off a clove—didn’t even peel it—and tossed it straight into his mouth.

Then spat it out.

Boom!

The garlic skin came out completely intact.

Behind him, a little girl came out carrying a small bowl, giggling nonstop.

A clove of garlic with a mouthful of chili oil noodles—

Carpenter Yang was eating like a king.

The girl came over, pinching her nose: “Grandpa, stinks.”

The old man blew his breath at her: “Haaa~~”

“Yeah yeah, stinks, whatever.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining when you were eating lamb’s blood with garlic.”

At that, the girl tilted her head, cheeks puffed, big eyes staring at him.

“Grandpa, can we have spicy garlic lamb’s blood for lunch?”

“Sure, sure, we’ll have it. Grandpa’ll cook it for you.”

“But not just spicy garlic lamb’s blood—you watch now, learn from Grandpa.”

The old man stood tall on the bench, chest puffed out, head held high:

“Spicy! Garlic! Lamb’s blood!!!”

Whoa.

That shout was loud and clear as a bell.

The little girl burst into adorable, soft laughter.

But her laughter hadn’t even faded—

When suddenly, two men were standing at the courtyard gate.

Sunken cheeks, dark eye sockets, blank stares.

Like, what normal person looks like that?

They were definitely into some sh*t.

Carpenter Yang looked at the two and the smile on his face slowly disappeared.

Annoyed!

He was seriously annoyed!

He ran all the way here from the northwest, and still couldn’t get peace!

It all started when he moved. One day while out playing with the girl,

She casually picked up a small wooden toy her grandpa had made.

A wooden bird—could fly without batteries or anything.

Pure wood, beautifully crafted—looked just like the real thing.

But they happened to run into someone from the Di family. The guy took one look and—

An expert could tell at a glance: this was a masterpiece of Luban Craft.

And then they latched on and wouldn’t let go.

“Sigh... you two again?”

“I already told you—I’m just a carpenter, wandering around. I don’t make coffins. I can’t even make coffins anymore. I’m old, have a heart, will ya?”

These two were Di family members.

They weren’t here for anything else—just wanted a ‘handcrafted’ coffin.

To use for a drought demon.

Or for storing wax corpses.

A good carpenter was critical to the Di family.

That’s why they kept pestering him.

And since he kept refusing, their attitude this time wasn’t so nice.

Di Dao didn’t show any expression.

He just pushed open the courtyard gate and stepped in.

Walking and talking with clasped hands:

“We’re low-ranking folk, not like the mighty 749, nor do we belong to any great sect. Master, a single thread can’t make a line, and a stranger in a strange land... Why not give the Di family a hand?”

“Let’s build a friendship.”

“You’ve got silver chopsticks, I’ve got a golden stove—how about we share the fire and craft something together? What do you say?”

A tiny hand tugged gently at his clothes.

The timid little girl hid behind Carpenter Yang.

He looked down.

Helpless: “We’re in different trades, different worlds. Just an old man and a little girl. We don’t fit in.”

“You old f***, don’t act like we haven’t been polite. We’ve come again and again, giving you all kinds of face. You keep turning us down—that’s straight-up disrespect.”

“Not one of us? Fine.”

The one who hadn’t spoken yet—Di Wei—finally spoke up with a nasty tone:

“I heard Luban Craft’s quite amazing. But your only heir’s a little girl. And your secret art’s only passed on to males, right? Can’t let that kind of skill vanish.”

“How about we find you a boy with a d*ck? Someone talented, good aptitude. What do you think?”

Di Wei hadn’t spoken at first—he knew he had a short temper, so he wasn’t fit for ‘inviting’ people.

But once that failed, it was his turn to speak.

The Di family had a bit of class—but not much.

If they could get someone through courtesy, they would.

But if not? Then they’d just take the legacy.

Either way—they were getting one or the other.

Their current coffin maker had run into some trouble, and they desperately needed a replacement.

The little girl didn’t say anything, but her eyes turned red.

If only she were a boy...

Carpenter Yang quickly pulled her behind him.

If it were the old days, he would’ve grabbed his planer and carved these two little sh*ts into their ancestors.

But now—feeling the little hand in his palm,

The old man sighed.

“Sigh...”

He clasped his hands, lowering his stance: “I’ll call you young master, but a true art is not taught lightly. The ocean hides its depths. A thousand gold pieces won’t buy a method. A crossroad farewell for an old friend.”

He bowed deeper—his body now looked hunched.

His voice even softer: “Please let it go. Silver basin for water, golden basin to hold—spare me.”

The old man’s voice was low.

But the Di family clearly wasn’t in a forgiving mood.

They were dead set on taking something.

Di Wei opened his mouth: “Cut the bullsh*t. If you keep it, it’s going in your coffin. Like I said—she’s just a girl, can’t inherit it. So why don’t we just—”

“I’ll WHAT your f***ing mother—”

The curse hit first. The fists came right after.

Lu Ding landed from mid-air.

His foot came crashing down—right on Di Wei’s skull.

No need to describe how terrifying Lu Ding’s body was—his foot came down like judgment.

CRACK CRACK CRUNCH—bones shattered, one after the other.

Six-foot-tall Di Wei was smashed down like a squashed meat pie.

Blood and flesh blended together.

Broken bones tore through muscle, pierced skin, sticking out like jagged white spikes.

Blood gushed from the wounds, spraying everywhere.

Di Wei’s state was beyond words—barely breathing, a single breath hanging on.

Just enough to hear Lu Ding’s last line:

“What fing century is this? Girl? So what if she’s a girl? Your mom’s not a woman? Your dad sht you out? You f*ing—”

A proper mouthful of insults—authentic, rapid-fire Tianjin crosstalk style, crackling like popcorn.

Next to them, Di Dao had just snapped to react, trying to move.

Lu Ding jerked his head around, eyes glowing red—like red lanterns guiding the dead at the Bridge of No Return.

That eerie red light chilled to the bone.

“F*** you!”

One kick!

BOOM!!

The man flew backward, half his body smashed into pulp.