The Saint of Corpse-Stitching

Something big happened at Shallow Water Pier today.

The Canal Gang, who had always thrown their weight around, had been humiliated.

More than two hundred strapping young men from the Canal Gang were sprawled all over the pier, their faces bruised and their arms and legs aching as they groaned in pain. One person had beaten every last one of them.

But when asked who had beaten them, they all looked bewildered. They said all they remembered was a field of yellow millet.

At the time, Weng Deyan, the boss of the Canal Gang at Shallow Water Pier, was furious. The entire gang had been beaten by one person, and they didn't even know who had done it afterward. How humiliating was that? Where was a local strongman's pride supposed to go?

And the little bastards who'd taken the beating couldn't tell him who'd beaten them. Weng Deyan didn't even have the chance to catch the culprit and hang him out for public display on the main street of Shallow Water Pier, to win back some face.

All he could do was hire a bunch of idlers to curse up a storm in Shallow Water Pier every day, from excrement and urine to their ancestors eighteen generations back. Their language was getting downright foul, in the hope that they might curse the person into showing himself. But no one took the bait.

It wasn't long before the story spread through the neighborhood.

People were saying that Weng Deyan's men had been preying on the locals in recent years, monopolizing business at Shallow Water Pier and charging canal-trade merchants all kinds of fees—protection fees, entry fees, docking fees. They'd done so many rotten things, demanding money and favors at every turn, that they had angered a "Yellow Millet Immortal" from the heavens, who had descended to punish them.

The "Yellow Millet Immortal" was a god. After punishing the men, he returned to heaven. Mere mortals couldn't behold a god's true appearance, so in the end no one remembered what he looked like. All they could recall was seeing a field of yellow millet...

And, well, the common folk had plenty of time on their hands to make up stories, and they did a pretty convincing job of it.

While the onlookers in the Capital City were having a grand time, the Canal Gang's prestige plummeted. Their brand management had failed spectacularly, and they'd made fools of themselves. Before long, they were thoroughly disgraced, and Boss Weng was so angry he couldn't stomach a crab for days.

The other party seemed to have some kind of bizarre ability that made people forget who he was after he beat them. It wasn't just the common folk spreading wild tales; the Canal Gang was in a state of panic, too. Rumors of ghosts and gods were flying around, and they wondered if the heavens had punished them.

But Weng Deyan had traveled far and wide and seen a bit of the world. He knew there were plenty of strange people and uncanny arts in the martial world. This was probably some clever trick of the trade, not a real god.

The problem was, knowing that did him no good. He couldn't find out who the other party was, let alone kill him and hang him out for public display at Shallow Water Pier to restore the gang's prestige. The whole Canal Gang had taken a beating for nothing.

The more Boss Weng thought about it, the angrier he got. He had no idea why the other party was targeting the Canal Gang. Was it a personal grudge? Or some kind of scheme? Wait... Boss Weng suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. Could the Six Fan School have hired some expert to deal with them?

That's it! It was highly likely! No wonder the Four Great Constables had shown up at his place today! They'd been keeping him occupied so they could stir up trouble outside! The goal was to undermine his Canal Gang, then investigate the Fortune-Longevity Paste warehouse. Well played, Six Fan School!

Weng Deyan felt he'd seen through the Six Fan School's scheme and uncovered the "truth."

Meanwhile, at the Divine Constable Hall of the Six Fan School,

Zhuifeng and Xue Ning stared in confusion at the dossier in front of them. It said a "Yellow Millet Immortal" had appeared at Shallow Water Pier to punish the Canal Gang.

What was this supposed to be?

In this Yellow Millet Immortal incident, the entire Canal Gang at Shallow Water Pier had swallowed a bitter pill. They'd suffered in silence, seething with resentment, as if their mouths were full of bitter herbs and someone had pinched their noses and poured down a bottle of herbal tonic. They were so bitter they couldn't even speak.

And the culprit behind it all was, of course, Lin Shou.

But Lin Shou said that although the Canal Gang felt as miserable as if they'd eaten the whole cycle of the five grains, he'd really only wanted to find a place to test his ability. He'd meant no harm, though he couldn't rule out doing it again.

After all, these little white mice had been so useful. The results of testing Yellow Millet Dream had far exceeded Lin Shou's expectations.

The effect of Yellow Millet Dream was like a mask that concealed his identity. As long as Lin Shou activated Yellow Millet Dream, his image wouldn't remain in anyone's memories.

Everyone who saw him would remember only a field of yellow millet. Everyone who heard his voice would remember only the sound of wind blowing across Liang Sea.

Yellow Millet Dream was like an alias.

When Lin Shou put on that alias, he became the "Yellow Millet Immortal."

With Yellow Millet Dream active, Lin Shou could do whatever he pleased. Even if he killed and burned, then walked away without a second thought, no one would find the "Yellow Millet Immortal" once he turned Yellow Millet Dream off. He could still live a peaceful life as Lin Shou.

Today, he could use the Yellow Millet Immortal's identity to slaughter an entire city's population, then join the ranks condemning the Yellow Millet Immortal as Lin Shou the next day.

At the very least, it could save him from social death. At its most extreme, it let him roam beyond the rules as an outlaw. What could be more moving than a perfect second identity like that?

That was why Lin Shou had liked Yellow Millet Dream so much when he first obtained it. It was like making a second account. As a keyboard warrior from the age of the internet, he knew that the most powerful weapon in social life was an "alt."

Of course, even though Lin Shou now had this miraculous disguise in his hands, he still restrained himself. He wouldn't indulge in lawlessness or cross the line.

Restraint was a virtue that cultivated the self. People who crossed their own limits too often were usually not far from bringing about their own ruin.

Lin Shou carefully put away the identity of the "Yellow Millet Immortal" and decided to make plans for how to use it later.

By the time Lin Shou returned to the Corpse-Stitching Shop, it was nearly noon.

After beating up two hundred people that morning, he felt refreshed. He'd let off all that pent-up energy, and he slept like a log.

When he woke again, it was already dusk. He still had corpses to stitch that night. Who knew what surprises awaited him?

He went out and grabbed a bite to eat. Lin Shou was in a good mood today, so he went to Ning Luowei's Tofu Shop and bought several bowls of steaming hot tofu pudding. He picked up a few piping-hot roasted sweet potatoes from a nearby stall, then took them to the Examination Hall to treat the fellows at the Bureau of Corpse Management.

Friendships came from keeping in touch. He'd already secured all the corpse-stitching work at the Examination Hall from the clerk, but was he supposed to ignore them the moment he got what he wanted? That would be far too calculating. You only knew how hard it was to ask for help when the need arose, so why not make a few friends beforehand?

At dusk, Lin Shou strolled toward the Examination Hall with a pile of food and drink. Hm?

From a distance, Lin Shou saw several clerks from the Bureau of Corpse Management working at the entrance to the Examination Hall. A stone statue of the Master stood there. The Master was a sage, the founding teacher of all the scholars under heaven. Before their exams, scholars came to rub the statue for good luck, praying they'd pass every test...

The statue had never caused any trouble at the Examination Hall before. But today, a carriage happened to pass by. As it went past the entrance, the horse spooked for some reason and bolted, scraping against the statue. Crack.

The Master statue's head had fallen off.

The damaged statue was supposed to be reported to the Ministry of Works so they could carve a new one. But during the day, the education commissioner had seen it and said that leaving a headless statue of the Master here was improper. He was the founding teacher, after all. What kind of spectacle was it to leave a headless one here?

So they found someone to slap on some paste and stick the statue's head back on for now, until the Ministry of Works finished a new one and they could replace it.

When Lin Shou arrived, he saw several clerks busy gluing the statue's head back on.

Lin Shou set down the little handcart he'd used to carry the food and went over to help. Together, they stuck the head back on the Master statue. Everyone was just starting to divide up the food Lin Shou had brought.

Lin Shou was walking behind them when he suddenly froze.

Buzz. A roar filled his ears, and the Record of Selling Corpses appeared in his field of vision.

Corpse's price: Heaven-Grade Rank Five.

...