I'm Really Not The Demon God's Lackey

Chapter 292: Lin Jie’s Father

“Oh right,” Lin Jie suddenly called out to Mu’en just as she was about to leave. He rummaged under the counter and took out a white wool scarf.

Grinning at Mu’en, he added, “It’s almost winter, but fortunately, I have this scarf that was just washed recently. You should use it for now; I’ll take you to buy a new one in the next few days.

“The temperature has been dipping. You’ll be fine in the store, but do be careful when you’re outside.”

Mu’en backtracked and stood before the counter obediently. As she reached over to take the scarf, she was shocked by the soft and fluffy sensation.

It would appear the scarf’s texture resembled Whitey’s fur, albeit much softer and warmer.

The girl cautiously prodded at the object.

Seeing Mu’en’s frozen in confusion, Lin Jie palmed his forehead and said, “I forgot you’ve never used this kind of scarf before. Come now, lower your head.”

He lifted the wool scarf from Mu’en’s arms and leaned across the counter to drape it over Mu’en’s neck, finishing it with a neat bow.

“All done.”

The satisfied Lin Jie made the final adjustments on the position of the scarf. He assessed the young girl before him that had evolved into ‘Mu’en: Winter Edition.’ Most of her petite face was buried into the puffy white wool scarf, making her look even smaller than usual.

Mu’en tilted her head and curiously rubbed the tip of the nose around the edges of the scarf. She could feel her warmth trapped within the scarf, heating up her body.

“Scarfs are amazing. Putting on a scarf in winter is basically adding on an extra layer,” Lin Jie said.

Mu’en only gave a nod of contemplation.

Lin Jie smiled and patted the girl’s head. “Alright, you can go now. A frivolous pet like Whitey often attracts unwanted attention. The resulting pros will far outweigh the cons if it were to be taken by someone.

“Not to mention the freaks of this society; if they happen to dislike cats, think of the atrocities they may commit. Whitey is always in danger when it is outside.”

Mu’en gave a hum of acknowledgment before heading out and closing the door behind her.

Lin Jie saw her off with a wave before he exhaled sharply and his smile gradually faded. Returning to his seat, he picked up the diary once again and flipped it open.

His eyes stopped on the page with blood splattered across the names of ‘Professor Lin’ and ‘Professor Zhang’ amongst a few others.

Lin Jie had paid close interest to this ‘Professor Lin’ since the very beginning, mainly because of having the same family name as well as the professor’s apparent role as the leader of this ill-fated archaeological expedition.

The information in this notebook is still largely incomplete. Based on these journal entries, the owner of this notebook appears to be slightly distant with the professor as the interactions between them are far and few.

He was just an ordinary member of the archaeological team that ultimately was only responsible for his job and was among the lucky few to have survived for an extended period of time. Without access to the goal of the expedition, the owner of the journal was clueless of the purpose behind their research.

Before his transmigration here, Lin Jie had never heard of anything relating to the topic at hand, further proving that it was indeed a dead end.

This did seem rather reasonable: the entire archaeological team had all been wiped out, and the construction team and research facility above the ground would have probably suffered as well. Would anyone in their right mind have wanted to continue on?

But before delving into that, who was backing this archeological team in the first place?

Was it the research institute mentioned in the journal, or was it some other constituents?

Merely flipping through this journal would never answer any of these questions.

‘Professor Lin’ and ‘Professor Zhang’ appeared to be playing the recurring role of ‘instigators.’ They had chosen to push forward into unknown danger even when half the team was either wounded or dead, seemingly giving no consideration to whether help would arrive.

It was unlikely that there were no problems within the team.

Lin Jie rubbed the coarse paper and had some reservations. Professor Lin had already accomplished 7 to 8 years of archeological work even though he was only in his thirties.

Hmm, granted that he survived his previous ordeal, of course…

Lin Jie actually had a vague guess.

Of everyone he knew, there was actually a professor by the name of ‘Lin’ who could perfectly fit all of the criterias above.

The full name of this Professor Lin was Lin Minghai. He graduated from an archeological course at an overseas prestigious university at a young age, returned home to work after, and was involved in many major archeological discoveries.

With his well-embellished resume, he became a prestigious and authoritative professor at the age of 37 and educated countless students.

Aside from the glamorous resume, Professor Lin also held identity with less importance in comparison.

That was, being the father of Lin Jie.

As he looked through the journal, Lin Jie started to mumble to himself, I remember in his 30s… that accident occured when he was about 40.

Lin Minghai, who had accomplished brilliant achievements at such a young age, never participated in any archeological-related work after hitting his 40s.

The reason was none other than an unfortunate car accident he had when he was 40 which resulted in having both legs amputated and wheelchair-bound for life.

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His 8-month pregnant wife whom he had been married to for less than two years passed away after just barely managing to give birth.

Such a big blow sent him spiraling downwards. With a deteriorating mental state, Lin Minghai could still maintain a normal lifestyle initially, but the gradual loss of his sanity led to him eventually choosing suicide when Lin Jie was only 13.

He’d left the gas on after consuming some sleeping pills.

Lin Jie was certain that he lacked any remaining ties in his old world when he had transmigrated. And Lin Minghai had definitely played a huge role in that mindset.

Choosing folklore studies as his specialization and gaining a bout of practical experience from such a young age was also largely influenced by his father.

Sadly, due to Lin Minghai’s mental instability, Lin Jie didn’t have a clear picture of his father’s past experiences. Whatever information he had was mostly gathered from his father’s former students, which weren’t very comprehensive. Till date, Lin Jie himself barely remembered much about his father either.

“The professor already had some mental issues in the past. Professor Zhang was the psychiatrist in charge of him at that time and they promptly wed after.”

These were words often heard by Lin Jie when those already successful people came to console him.

Lin Jie could only sighed as he recalled this.

Yes, Professor Zhang. Lin Minghai had tied the knot with the psychiatrist in charge of him just two years after he became a professor. And the name of this psychiatrist was Zhang Caiyong.

Professor Lin, Professor Zhang. Now it all seemed to get clearer.

Lin Jie rested his chin over his interlocking fingers out of habit as he stared at the journal. They frequently mentioned a car accident, and I’ve already confirmed it by investigating it on the sly; there were even hospitalization records.

It’s either a coincidence or someone deliberately covering it up.

The only clue lies in the only other person whose full name has been written in this journal.

…Professor Lin’s student, Duan Xuemin!

Lin Jie shut his eyes. He had seen the old student yearbooks in his house; there were a few whose surnames began with ‘Duan,’ about a handful. However, he could barely remember their names.

Student Duan.

Journal.

Lin Jie shut the journal and turned to its cover page.

He recalled where he had seen this notebook.

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