Ill-Fated

"Shh... the black-coats are here."

Several shopkeepers fell silent as cicadas in winter. Though they couldn't distinguish the Inspection Bureau from ordinary police, the sight of those uniforms made them instinctively shrink their necks and clear a path.

Three members of the Inspection Bureau, clad in black uniforms, were walking up from the street entrance.

The leader was Yue Shan, whom he had seen last night, though he wore no long saber today.

Yet, that scorching sense of blood energy formed an invisible field, even in the bright daylight, that thinned the lingering yin energy that haunted Funeral Street year-round.

His expression was calm, his gaze sweeping over every shop on the street before finally settling on the slightly tattered cloth banner of Deliverance Studio.

Behind him were the same man and woman from his team.

The man held a ledger, while the woman's eyes were sharp and alert, the small leather pouch and compass at her waist swaying gently with her stride.

They walked straight toward Deliverance Studio.

Inside the shop, Chen Mo seemed startled by the commotion outside. He slowly opened his eyes, and upon seeing the visitors, a flash of perfectly measured confusion crossed his face.

He braced himself to stand from the rattan chair, but his movements were weak and unsteady. It took two attempts to stand firm, his hand gripping the edge of the counter as he panted slightly.

"O-officers, what... what can I do for you?" Chen Mo's voice was raspy with fatigue, his complexion appearing even paler than paper in the dim shop.

Yue Shan stepped into the shop, his gaze sweeping the interior first.

He focused for a moment on the faces of the paper effigies that had yet to be dotted with eyes, then finally landed on Chen Mo.

"Inspection Bureau, Yue Shan." He flashed his badge, his tone strictly professional. "Routine investigation. A violent incident occurred in the west of the city last night, and the Black Tiger Gang has been wiped out. We heard that Funeral Street had dealings with the Black Tiger Gang, so we are here to inquire. You are Chen Mo? The young proprietor of this paper-craft shop?"

"I... I am." Chen Mo lowered his head and coughed twice, his shoulders trembling slightly. "The Black Tiger Gang... is gone? This... cough, cough... we run a small business, we only... only paid the monthly sanitation fees, we know nothing else."

He answered with cautious humility, perfectly portraying a frail, timid, and fearful shopkeeper.

Yue Shan watched him silently, his expression unreadable, as if weighing something.

Behind him, the female officer, Zhou Ling, frowned slightly. Her gaze lingered on Chen Mo's excessively pale face and his shallow, fluttering breath. Instinctively, her fingers brushed a leather pouch at her waist; something inside seemed to grow slightly warm.

Yue Shan suddenly stepped forward, closing the distance to Chen Mo.

Chen Mo seemed intimidated by the masculine, scorching energy radiating from him, shrinking back almost imperceptibly, his breathing quickening.

"Hold out your hand," Yue Shan said flatly, his tone brook no refusal.

Chen Mo hesitated for a moment before slowly raising his right hand. It was thin, the fingertips cold and still stained with traces of gold foil from spirit money, trembling uncontrollably now.

Yue Shan did not touch him, merely focusing his gaze on the skin of his wrist and the aura at his fingertips.

A moment later, his eyes moved upward to the center of Chen Mo's forehead. A faint, dark-greenish aura lingered there, becoming even more apparent under Yue Shan's piercing stare.

"Yin Sha has entered your body, deep into the marrow." Yue Shan's voice was a calm statement of fact, as if discussing something unrelated to himself. "This isn't just ordinary weakness; it's the result of long-term exposure to yin objects without proper techniques to guide or protect yourself. The Yin Sha has infected you and depleted your foundation. And... it has been delayed too long; the evil energy is now intertwined with your life force, like gangrene attached to the bone."

Chen Mo's body stiffened, then he wore an even more bitter and helpless expression. "Officer... you have a sharp eye. It's a craft passed down in the family, it's inevitable... inevitable to touch unclean things. I only blame myself for being useless..."

His words were half-truth, half-lie; the Yin Sha in his body was a legacy from the original owner, but it served as his best cover for now.

At this, Zhou Ling couldn't help but speak softly, her tone carrying a mix of professional curiosity and instinctive pity. "For the Sha to have infected you to this degree... your yang energy is almost extinguished, and your internal organs are failing. At your age... I fear... it will be hard to last another year."

After she finished, she seemed to feel that being so blunt and cruel to a stranger—especially one so young—was too harsh, and a flash of sympathy crossed her eyes as she added, "What a pity."

Her final "what a pity" was very soft, but in the silence of the shop, it was clearly audible.

It was unclear whether she lamented his illness or his refined, handsome appearance that even sickness could not hide.

A beautiful man with a short life—it was always particularly sigh-worthy.

Yue Shan glanced at Zhou Ling without comment, taking the diagnosis as settled. He looked at Chen Mo again. "Regarding the Black Tiger Gang, if you recall any anomalies or see anyone suspicious, you may report to the Inspection Bureau at any time." He paused, his tone pointed. "Take good care of yourself. Linhe County hasn't been peaceful lately; stay out of trouble, and perhaps... you might have more time."

The words sounded like advice, but Chen Mo detected a subtle, lingering scrutiny.

Did Yue Shan truly believe he was nothing more than a dying paper-craftsman?

"Th-thank you for the advice, Officer." Chen Mo nodded weakly, followed by another bout of suppressed coughing.

Yue Shan said no more, turning to lead his subordinates out of Deliverance Studio.

They made brief inquiries at a few other shops on Funeral Street, receiving nothing more than expressions of fear toward the Black Tiger Gang and attempts to distance themselves from the matter, much like Chen Mo's account.

Watching the three Inspection Bureau members disappear at the street corner, the low murmurs returned to Funeral Street, though this time, they were filled with whispers about Chen Mo's condition.

"Tsk, that boy from the Chen family, it seems he's really done for..."

"If the officer said so, I'm afraid..."

"Sigh, it's a pity. He hasn't even mastered the craft yet? The family line is about to end..."

"Yin Sha in the body... in our line of work, how many get a good end? It's all fate."

Inside the shop, Chen Mo slowly sat back into the rattan chair and closed his eyes, appearing utterly exhausted.

Only the slight rise and fall of his chest and his fingers, which gripped the table and then slowly relaxed, revealed that his inner state was far from the calm he projected.

"Won't live past a year?" Deep in his consciousness, the Moonlight Treasure Mirror floated silently, the [Remaining Lifespan] entry flickering slightly.

Two hundred and sixty-three days.

He had indeed originally had a year of life, but after using his power twice last night, his lifespan had plummeted to just over two hundred and sixty days.

"Cough, cough..." A suppressed cough welled up from the depths of his throat, carrying a metallic, bloody sweetness. He nonchalantly covered his mouth with a handkerchief; when he unfolded it, a spot of dark red was blindingly bright.

The Yin Sha in his body was flaring up violently now; even in the middle of the day, his hands and feet were freezing cold.

"I wonder if the Ghost Market in Jinmen has a way to resolve this Yin Sha?"