Chapter 170: The Song Family’s Heavenly Dog Tracking Technique (2/2)

After spending the whole afternoon in the library, we then went to the cafeteria for dinner. At around ten o’clock, I told Dali I was going out.

“Another murder?” Dali asked.

“No,” I replied. “I’m going on a date with Bingxin. Don’t tell Xiaotao, okay?”

“What?” cried Dali. “I never thought you’d be a cheating bastard!”

I then snuck out of college and took a cab to the agreed place. I had to walk through a wasteland next to the highway for a long time after getting off the cab. After a while, I saw Xiaotao and Yuanchao at a distance.

“You’re early!” cried Xiaotao. “Shall we begin?”

Before I could answer her, I heard a voice calling my name. I turned around and saw the idiot Dali. He was almost out of breath from running after me.

“So you really are investigating a case!” he yelled. “How could you lie to me, Song Yang? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” I snapped.

“I’m your trusty assistant, remember?” he proudly answered. “You need me!”

“Did anybody follow you?” asked Xiaotao, scanning the surroundings.

Dali looked around too and answered, “I don’t think so!”

I took out a small vial from my bag which contained a potion that I had just prepared recently. I never thought that it would come in handy so soon.

I told everyone to step away from me, because I might look a bit scary in a few minutes. I dipped a silver needle into the potion, took a deep breath, and pierced it into my neck. At first, I felt nothing but pain. Then, my sense of smell was overwhelmed by a heady stench, and my vision began to distort. I collapsed to my knees. Drool streamed down my mouth and my whole body twitched violently.

“What’s going on, Song Yang?” asked Xiaotao with concern.

I was drenched in cold sweat by that time. I mustered up all the strength that I had to say, “I’m fine. My body is just getting used to it.”

This ‘potion’ was actually a medicine formulated with bee venom and several other traditional Chinese medicinal herbs. When the needle was pierced at a specific acupoint, it would stimulate the olfactory center in the brain and make it a thousand times more sensitive than usual. This meant that my sense of smell was now far better than a police dog’s. This trick was called the Heavenly Dog Tracking Technique. It worked by directly entering into the nervous system, which made it very risky and it could have a serious negative side effect, so it was considered one of Song family’s forbidden techniques and must only be used when absolutely necessary. For the first few minutes, it would make you drool uncontrollably, you would feel dizzy and lose your sense of balance, causing you to fall to your knees like a dog—hence the name.

After the nose was activated, I could sense the surrounding smell of gasoline, dirt, and grass very clearly. The smell was so heavy that my nose ached, almost as if my nose was swollen.

It took me five minutes to get used to it, but eventually, I managed to get up.

“What exactly are you doing, Song Yang?” asked Xiaotao. “You scared me to death!”

“I’m tracking the trail left by Xu Xiaohui,” I said. “All of you, please don’t move, and Uncle Wang, no smoking!”

“Roger!” they nodded.

I took a deep breath. Instantly, I detected a rancid smell coming from Dali.

I suddenly realized one thing—Dali had been acting weird today. He’d been following me all day as if he was monitoring me. Apart from that, I noticed that there was something off about his speech and behavior today.

I activated my Cave Vision and observed his face closely, and noticed that there was a seam on his hairline!

Dali noticed my behavior and asked, “Why are you staring at me, dude?”

“Because you’re handsome.”

I pretended to be following a trail and went to Yuanchao. I faced away from Dali and made a few hand gestures to Yuanchao, making sure that Dali couldn’t see it.

Yuanchao nodded. He walked towards Dali, then suddenly the sound of a gunshot pierced my ears like a thunderclap, and the strong smell of gunpowder filled my nostrils. I turned around and saw Yuanchao holding his gun firmly in his hand while Dali was on the ground, his two hands holding one of his legs.

“What the fuck are you doing, Yuanchao?!” shouted Xiaotao.

“He’s not Dali!”

1. Chinese , best known for wuxia novels and serials.

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