Happy Little Farmer
Chapter 490

Chapter 490: Chapter 490

Back in the car, Yang Fan met Xiang Xue Ting’s anxious eyes and whispered, "First, take me home. I need to grab something. Barehanded, I’m no match for those things."

"Also, check the recent suicide cases in the county over the past few months, focusing on whether there’s any direct contact between them."

Xiang Xue Ting had a sudden realization, "You mean, this situation spreads from one person to another, and eventually, they all choose to commit suicide?"

Yang Fan nodded. "This thing is mysterious and continually tempts people through whispers, guiding them step by step towards suicide before moving on to the next victim. Get this sorted out as soon as possible. If it’s just one or two people, I should be able to help you handle the trouble, but if there are too many, it’s beyond me."

"I don’t know where you got the misconception from, but I actually have rather ordinary skills."

"So when I was standing in front of the window, I wanted to jump out? This thing is too vile," exclaimed Xiang Xue Ting. "I’ll have someone look into it right away; it shouldn’t be too complicated to investigate and should yield results quickly."

"Good, you go ahead and arrange that, then take me home," said Yang Fan. "Can we skip visiting Shen Zhongwei?"

"Yes, he has already been captured, and my team will handle it," Xiang Xue Ting replied.

"Then let’s go."

Afterward, Xiang Xue Ting drove Yang Fan back to his place, where he picked up the wooden mace.

Little Mother and the others hadn’t gone to bed yet and naturally bombarded Yang Fan with worried inquiries upon seeing him return only to prepare to leave again.

Yang Fan fended them off on the pretext of cooperating with the police station for some paperwork, and then he left the house, heading to Xiang Xue Ting’s home with her.

Xiang Xue Ting’s home was in an old neighborhood, formerly a railway workers’ residence.

Perhaps because this complex had stood too long in the city, its sense of decay was palpable even from the outside, like an old man in his twilight years, emitting a sinister aura under the night sky.

They reached the destination, but the information requested from Xiang Xue Ting’s colleague hadn’t arrived yet.

Yang Fan sat in the back seat, a cigarette between his fingers, silently waiting.

He didn’t press for answers.

Although Xiang Xue Ting said it was a simple matter, he knew sorting through the social networks of the deceased wouldn’t be quick.

This was a case of suicide, not a homicide.

Once the nature of the case was established, they certainly wouldn’t go to the trouble of investigating the social relations of the deceased anymore, which theoretically should all be reassessed.

"It’s here!" Xiang Xue Ting suddenly announced from the driver’s seat where she was playing with her phone.

Yang Fan tensed up, sat up straight, and asked, "You got the results?"

"No, what I mean is... I heard it again," Xiang Xue Ting said with a hint of terror, whispering, "This time it’s closer. It feels like she’s whispering in my ear, calling my name and saying things I can’t understand."

"Didn’t you say you could only hear it at home?" Yang Fan asked sternly.

"Yes, before it was only at home. I don’t know what happened today; suddenly I can hear it outside too," Xiang Xue Ting said nervously, "What should I do? Am I going to die soon?"

"You should be relieved that this thing doesn’t kill people directly," Yang Fan said, "Just stay calm and clear-headed."

He silently activated the Heavenly Eye Technique, his gaze penetrating, and opened the Heavenly Eye state, then looked towards Xiang Xue Ting.

There was nothing around her, spotlessly clean.

However, a mist-like layer enveloped her, making her appear alternately distinct and blurry. Yang Fan couldn’t figure out what was going on but speculated it might have something to do with the Whisperer.

He opened the car door and stepped out, looking around him.

The night deepened, and there were hardly any pedestrians on the road, except for a little girl holding a plastic bag waiting at the red light and occasionally someone speeding past on an electric bike.

Yang Fan looked around and above carefully, even whipping his head back several times like a fool.

But there was nothing.

Suddenly, Yang Fan sharply turned his attention to the little girl standing by the roadside.

She was dressed fashionably, sporting a sports headset around her fair neck and holding a plastic bag, looking as though she had just been shopping; she wore a slightly vintage dress and her long hair was loosely draped, covering most of her cheeks.

If one only looked at her superficially, she would seem like a very ordinary and pretty little girl.

Although her cheeks were not visible, judging by her overall appearance, she seemed to be around fifteen or sixteen years old.

The green light came on.

But the girl had no intention of crossing the street and continued to stand quietly by the roadside.

Yang Fan watched quietly, his hand subconsciously tightening around the wooden mace.

The red light turned on again.

A small sedan stopped in front of the crosswalk, beside the girl.

The music in the car blasted loudly, with a rhythm so intense that the entire vehicle seemed to shake.

Yang Fan continued to watch silently; the girl’s gaze remained fixed straight ahead.

The green light lit up once more.

The car jumped forward abruptly and then stopped again; from the half-opened window, one could faintly hear a man’s muffled swearing.

He had misread the light.

But the girl still showed no sign of moving.

Two rounds of lights had passed.

Yet she still disregarded them, standing there the entire time.

Yang Fan slowly moved his feet.

Just then, the girl suddenly turned her head and looked over.

Beneath the scattered long hair was a very clean face, fair and innocent.

Her seemingly emotionless eyes looked at Yang Fan, and she suddenly smiled lightly.

There was no eerie feeling; her smile was clean and sweet.

Yang Fan’s steps suddenly quickened, and he charged forward, swinging the wooden mace in his hand.

There was no need for further doubt; this was probably the Mysterious.

With a "puff",

Before the wooden mace even made contact with the entity, she vanished from the spot, and Yang Fan, without hesitation, abruptly turned and struck.

A muffled groan erupted.

Indeed, even a Spirit Level Mysterious still likes to play this game, lying on people’s shoulders; does that make you feel comfortable?

The car parked by the roadside rolled down its window, and a chubby man with a strong smell of alcohol poked his head out and asked, "Buddy, are you practicing swordsmanship late at night?"

"Yeah, I’m practicing," Yang Fan replied, "Don’t drive after drinking." He lifted his foot and chased after the Mysterious that had already drifted away by four or five steps, slashing chaotically with the wooden mace in his hand, while simultaneously summoning the cold energy from his Dantian.

The Mysterious was very fast, appearing now to the east, now to the west.

Her face maintained that radiant and sunny smile, and Yang Fan’s ears also echoed with bursts of whispers, like quiet talks, most of the content indistinct, except he could clearly hear his own name.

"Fanzi... Fanzi..."

The intermittent sounds were like the low moans of a person on the brink of death.

There was no need for doubt anymore; this was the Whisperer!