Second Transaction

The cramped little room was thick with every kind of stench.

He had arrived the day before yesterday.

In less than two days, four or five people had died in the tiny room. One old man had passed away yesterday, yet his corpse still had not been wheeled away.

So hungry. So thirsty.

The old man coughed, wanting to rise, but he was too old, far too old. Every inch of skin and flesh on his body was wracked by agonizing pain.

He could not even sit up.

"Old Chen, is this really our fate?" the old man asked the patient beside him, but received no response.

Another one had died.

There was no food. They were given a fixed amount of water each day, and for people like them, already at death's door, surviving two or three days was considered good.

It hurt so much.

In this tiny room, it seemed... he was the only living person left?

Zhong Shan sighed softly. He did not blame his sons much, only worried whether his granddaughter was doing well.

"What a sin."

He closed his eyes and quietly waited for death to come.

Creak.

The door to the Quasi-Morgue was pushed open.

Were they bringing water?

Why were they so early today?

Zhong Shan thought that drinking or not drinking made little difference. At most, he would die tonight rather than tomorrow morning.

Living even one more minute was torment.

The old man continued lying quietly, yet he heard footsteps approaching him.

He laboriously opened his eyes and looked toward the newcomer.

It was a masked person. In the dim little room, he could not make out the figure clearly.

"Zhong Shan?"

The masked man spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Who are you?" Zhong Shan asked doubtfully, without fear.

He was not even afraid of death.

"You may call me a True Person," Zhang Fusheng said in a low voice. After learning of Daoism's existence, he had casually chosen True Person as his codename.

He had originally wanted to call himself a Heavenly Venerable, because the name Fusheng went quite well with it.

Boundless Heavenly Venerable of Fortune and Life was a Daoist prayer, much like monks chanting, "Namo Amitabha Buddha."

But he felt that in this world, it was better not to choose names carelessly.

So True Person was quite good. It did not offend any taboo, either.

"True Person." Zhong Shan froze. A trace of light unexpectedly surfaced in his clouded eyes.

"Are you... from Daoism?"

Now it was Zhang Fusheng's turn to be surprised. Zhong Shan knew about Daoism?

Well, he was an eighty-something-year-old man and a martial artist. It was probably normal for him to know; after all, even Dad had learned of Daoism and the Three Pure Ones through a friend.

He did not answer Zhong Shan directly, only asked in a low voice:

"You know Daoism well?"

Lying on the hospital bed, the old man shook his head with difficulty.

"I have had contact with it, but do not know much. True Person, are you from Eastern Daoism or the Western Evil Cult?"

Zhang Fusheng was a little confused. This stuff was divided into east and west?

He spoke in a low voice:

"Why ask so much?"

"That is true."

Zhong Shan smiled with difficulty.

"I am about to die. Whether you are a High Person of Eastern Daoism or an evil disciple of the Western Evil Cult, it has nothing to do with me. But since this is Ankang Hospital, you should be from the Western Evil Cult, right?"

Eastern Daoism, High Persons.

Western Evil Cult, evil disciples?

No, it should have been Western Daoism, but Zhong Shan had branded it with the word "evil."

And what did it have to do with Ankang Hospital?

Zhang Fusheng pondered this as he stared at Zhong Shan.

"I came to make a transaction with you."

"A transaction? What could a dying man like me possibly trade?" Zhong Shan said calmly. "With True Person as your title, you must be an existence beyond anything I can imagine. I have nothing you would fancy."

"You do."

The masked man's voice suddenly became solemn, accompanied by faint peals of thunder.

Zhong Shan looked at him in surprise.

In a daze, he seemed to see the masked man calling himself a True Person... glowing?

It was not merely light. There was also a sense of ceaseless birth and extinction, of withering and flourishing in endless cycles, lending him a unique solemnity and majesty.

"You have lived eighty-four years. Your fate has run dry, and your lifespan is at its end. Yet do you have any unfulfilled wishes?"

The question, accompanied by threads of thunderous sound, rang in Zhong Shan's ears.

His muddled mind cleared somewhat.

"What exactly do you want me to do?"

"A transaction. A purchase and sale."

Zhang Fusheng used the Spring Thunder Technique and White Bone Meditation. Thunder issued from his mouth, faint light bloomed from his bones, and he visualized his own birth, extinction, withering, and flourishing. One moment he was white bones; the next, his flesh was whole and his skin gleamed like crystal.

"The years you spent painstakingly training in the Visualization Method and Breathing Technique. The time you spent absorbing the Mysterious Factor. The days you spent tempering your body and honing your fists and kicks."

"As well as your true name, your face, and your body."

"I wish to buy them all."

"As for the price, it shall be your lingering regrets and unfulfilled wishes. What do you say?"

Zhong Shan listened blankly, an inexplicable chill crawling down his spine.

"True name, face, body."

He coughed violently again, coughing up black blood.

"What if my wish is to keep living?"

As soon as he spoke, Zhong Shan saw the masked man, whose aura cycled through birth and extinction and whose skin shone with a lustrous radiance, shake his head.

"Your fate has run dry, your lifespan has ended, and your name has been erased from the Book of Life and Death. The Soul Reapers are on their way. There is no saving you."

"Book of Life and Death, Soul Reapers." He did not know what those were, but they sounded unfathomably mysterious.

"Then what if I want my several unfilial sons to die with me?" Zhong Shan asked again.

Zhang Fusheng pondered for a moment, then nodded slightly.

"It can be done."

Zhong Shan's eyes lit up.

"I also have a granddaughter. I want her to live her whole life in peace and safety. Can that be done?"

He actually felt that this masked man truly could buy his past and his true name. Perhaps it was because death was at hand, or perhaps because of—

Daoism.

Zhong Shan did not understand Daoism, but he knew that a sect capable of giving the Federation endless headaches, one it had suppressed for hundreds of years without success, had to be unimaginably powerful.

This time, Zhang Fusheng shook his head.

"A lifetime is too long. You cannot afford anything I could sell you. I only deal in the present."

Zhong Shan fell silent for a moment.

"My granddaughter... I want her to become a martial artist. Can that be done?"

"How old is she?"

"Eighteen." Zhong Shan's eyes brightened slightly. "She was admitted to Jiangzhou University this year. Though she is not in the Martial Arts Department, as long as she becomes a martial artist, she can transfer into it."

"Then her future will be smooth and level. I will die without regrets."

At the end, Zhong Shan added expectantly:

"That child has already reached Minor Accomplishment in the Breathing Technique, but she has never made progress in the Visualization Method. Even if you only let her enter the door of the Visualization Method before school begins, that would be enough. She could still transfer into the Martial Arts Department!"

Zhang Fusheng considered it seriously for a moment, then nodded.

"It can be done."

Zhong Shan's breathing became somewhat hurried. He coughed violently and tried to sit up, but still failed.

He saw the masked man extend a hand.

The next second, a sheet of parchment appeared out of thin air!

This time, Zhang Fusheng did not take up a pen. With merely a slight thought, words naturally appeared on the Contract Book.

One column listed his "purchases": Zhong Shan's [True Name], [Appearance], [Identity].

As well as the [Cultivation Time] he had spent on the Breathing Technique, Visualization Method, and body tempering.

"What do you practice?" Zhang Fusheng asked. "I mean combat techniques and the like."

"Fists!" Zhong Shan said proudly. "Though I lacked a [Cultivation Method] and was stuck at First Refinement my entire life, my Tiger Roar Fist has reached the peak of perfection!"

After First Refinement, martial artists needed a Cultivation Method to break through to Second Refinement.

The words "fist technique cultivation time" appeared in the Contract Book's "purchases" column. After some thought, Zhang Fusheng directly changed them to [Tiger Roar Fist Progress].

He himself did not know any fist techniques. Since the old man was so proud of his fist art, it would be better to directly acquire its progress.

Zhang Fusheng knew his own limits. His talent in fist techniques might not even compare to Zhong Shan's.

"Your granddaughter's name."

"Zhong Yue."

Zhang Fusheng paused, thinking of that clingy nuisance.

Could it really be such a coincidence?

The same name?

He did not dwell on it. Whether they were the same person or not did not matter.

Zhong Shan's request immediately appeared in the "sales" column—Zhong Yue, to enter the door of visualization within one month.

"If it is becoming a martial artist, I cannot guarantee the timing. But if it is only entering the door of the Visualization Method, I can accomplish that within a month."

Zhang Fusheng explained calmly. Holding the Contract Book, he asked one final question.

"It seems that only your granddaughter did not abandon you, correct?"

Zhong Shan nodded gently and sighed.

"She originally had a chance to enter the Martial Arts Department. Yet during the most important stage of high school, she went out to work and earn medical fees for this useless old man."

"Then how did you end up sent to the Quasi-Morgue?"

"The money that child earned was all taken by her father and stepmother to pay the medical fees. She is probably still working somewhere right now."

Zhang Fusheng finally understood.

After a moment of silence, he proactively added an item to the Contract Book.

[Clearing the Sect].

"Are you willing to make the transaction?" Zhang Fusheng asked softly. "Once you accept it, you will die. But I will fulfill your wishes as well."

"I am willing. I am willing!" Zhong Shan nodded forcefully.

The next instant, a sound like a great bell and a great chime, audible only to Zhang Fusheng and the old man, suddenly rang out.

"Transaction completed."

Almost in an instant.

The old man on the hospital bed had his face blur, becoming completely faceless. Then his body began to fade, until he vanished entirely.

It was as though he had never existed.

He had sold his [True Name], [Appearance], and [Identity]. He was no longer Zhong Shan, having lost his face and the very foundation of his existence.

In his place—

Standing amid the foul-smelling Quasi-Morgue, Zhang Fusheng sighed softly and shifted his thoughts.

The next instant, his body became hunched and aged. When he removed the black cloth covering his face, the face beneath it was Zhong Shan's.

But it was ruddy and healthy, no longer sick unto death.

"From now on, Zhang Fusheng is merely an ordinary Zhang Fusheng."

"Zhong Shan is the mysterious [True Person]."