False Immortal in Troubled Times

Blackwater City, a ruined courtyard in the South Suburb.

Lin Shu's consciousness was a little hazy. He wanted to open his eyes and look around, but his eyelids felt as if they'd been pasted shut with rice glue.

"Keep beating him."

A rough voice suddenly rang in his ear, rousing him a little.

Were they at it again? Who were they beating?

Lin Shu instinctively reached out, trying to grab something.

If you got into a fight, you needed a weapon that felt right in your hand. Otherwise, you'd suffer for it.

He had more than enough experience dealing with this sort of thing. Otherwise, he never would've survived to this day, scrabbling through those filthy streets.

Smack! Smack!

But before Lin Shu could even stretch out his hand, two lashes landed hard across his shoulders and back, tearing his flesh open.

"Hiss!"

The grogginess of his hangover instantly faded. Jolted awake by the pain, Lin Shu finally opened his eyes. The rice glue blinding him was a blood-red color, and his entire vision was blurred and dark crimson.

So... those bastards were beating me.

As his consciousness took hold of his body, the pain of his battered flesh flooded into his brain.

Lin Shu's breathing grew shaky and rapid, and the skin on his arms tensed with a mixture of excitement and fear.

He licked his split lip, swept the blood into his mouth with the tip of his tongue, and slowly raised his head to look.

The surroundings were utterly unfamiliar: a crude little courtyard enclosed by earthen walls, nothing like the filthy alleys and towering buildings he knew.

At least a dozen people were in view, men and women, old and young.

The three burly men in front drew the most attention.

All three were bare-chested, their faces painted with bizarre, exaggerated designs in greasepaint.

The leader had a short beard. The other two gripped leather whips, looking down at him with cold eyes.

"Whips?"

Enduring the pain, Lin Shu calmly observed everything.

Who used something like that in a fight?

That sort of thing was either for punishment or for seduction.

Looking at those three hulking men, Lin Shu hoped it was the former.

His gaze dropped to the ground beside him, where a bloodstained burlap sack lay. From its outline, it looked as if it held some kind of living creature, something like an ape, twitching faintly inside.

With the sack as his anchor, scattered memories instantly came together.

This place was a troupe's temporary lodgings. The people here made their living by swindling and cheating.

His predecessor had been picked up by them in the suburbs.

He was tall and slender, with fair skin, and had been assigned to play an immortal or deity, then coax people out of a few reward coins.

Not long ago, the troupe had set its sights on an old woman. After learning that her sickly grandson could only be kept alive with medicinal soup, they had grown wicked ideas.

First, they'd persuaded her to stop giving him the medicine. Then they'd fabricated a few miraculous signs, and finally brought the old woman before his predecessor, who was dressed up as an immortal.

It had been easy to swindle every last bit of the old woman's property.

That should have been the end of it.

But who could've guessed that his predecessor couldn't bear to let the child die?

He had actually snuck out, intending to persuade the old woman not to stop giving the boy his medicine. As for the silver, he was willing to go with her and report the matter to the authorities.

"This..."

Lin Shu's mouth twitched.

There was no helping it when you got stuck with an idiot like this.

He stared at the sack.

Through its half-open mouth, he could just make out the bloodied, mangled face of an old woman.

She looked a little like a monkey starved down to the bone. Her round eyes bulged as her torn lips quivered incessantly.

The old woman stared straight at the young man who had swindled her out of her money, then tried to help her seek justice.

She let out a gurgling whimper. It was impossible to tell whether she was pleading for help or cursing him.

A withered hand trembled as it reached out of the sack. Three of its five fingers were broken, hanging limply and slick with blood.

As the hand inched closer, Lin Shu tried to avoid it, a little repulsed.

He knew he wasn't a good person. One day, he'd die a violent death in some street. He'd even imagined a scene like this, tragic and beautiful.

But the other person should've been a tough little punk in a leather jacket, covered in dragon tattoos, or a domineering older beauty in an evening gown and high heels.

"He's still not fucking dead!"

A man named Wang Xu suddenly leaped out of the crowd and viciously kicked the sack.

"Gurk... Aah!!"

The old woman's last breath was kicked out of her, turning into a howl like a wild beast's.

After that, the courtyard fell silent. The old woman's whimpers no longer disturbed the air.

Her withered hand lost its strength, stopping just in front of Lin Shu's cheek.

Damn it, she didn't seem to have been pleading for help or cursing him. She seemed to feel sorry for this young man who was about to be beaten to death too.

Too bad the old woman couldn't reach his face.

Her remaining fingers slipped down at once, barely managing to leave two warm, foul-smelling bloodstains on the tip of his nose.

"..."

Lin Shu felt the dampness on his nose and fell silent for a moment.

He raised his eyebrows and looked at Wang Xu, his expression neither happy nor sad.

No one noticed that, the instant the old woman died, a streak of black light flashed and vanished into Lin Shu's palm.

"Third Master, I'll take care of him."

Wang Xu ingratiatingly turned toward the short-bearded brute at the head of the group.

The troupe leader, Master Liu the Third, shoved him aside and unhurriedly crouched in front of Lin Shu.

Then he reached out, gripped the young man's jaw, and forced his head up.

"Tsk. You actually endured the family punishment."

Third Master wasn't satisfied with the result.

A full hundred lashes, and they still hadn't beaten this lowly turncoat to death outright.

But every household had its rules, and he'd already made his declaration.

"You've got one hell of a hard life."

Master Liu sighed, then spat a mouthful of filth onto Lin Shu's forehead. "Ptooey."

However hard his life was, it only meant a few more lashes.

"Drag him inside. There's another show tomorrow."

Master Liu had no habit of wasting words on the dead. He dropped Lin Shu and rose to his feet.

From the surrounding crowd, Old Cripple—the one with the lowest status, who'd only dared watch from a distance—hurried over. His eyes were full of pity, though he didn't dare show it.

He bowed and scraped obsequiously to Master Liu.

Then, afraid the man might change his mind, he hurriedly and awkwardly dragged Lin Shu into the woodshed.

The woodshed was messy, but at least it was dry.

Old Cripple helped Lin Shu lie down against the wall, carefully shut the door, then turned back and complained in a lowered voice:

"Tell me, why'd you go meddling in other people's business?"

"Have they ever given you a single bit of the silver they earned? You're not even allowed to touch the money. Even if that old woman's whole family died, what the hell would it have to do with you?"

The cripple walked back to the corner, only to find Lin Shu already gritting his teeth and forcing himself to sit up.

His bare body, fair and smooth, was now covered in wounds. It was almost impossible to find a patch of uninjured flesh.

Yet there wasn't much fear on the young man's face. He was clearly panting hard, but as he leaned against the wall, his posture was surprisingly loose and relaxed. He even closed his eyes and tugged lightly at the corner of his mouth.

Old Cripple stared, dumbfounded. The other man had nearly been beaten to death, and he could still smile?

"What's going on?"

Lin Shu looked down at his chest. Compared with his wounds, the empty space in his torso made him even more curious.

His entire heart had been carved out with a sharp weapon. How could a man with no heart still be alive?

"Who knows? You were already like this when we dragged you back. You've always looked like you were about to die."

The cripple was called Old Yang. He'd once been one of the troupe's main performers.

Unfortunately, he'd later broken the family rules and had his martial arts and one leg taken from him, ending up in this state.

The two of them were fellow sufferers.

"So you're saying I don't get a share of the money, I don't know how long I'll live, and people can still bully me like this?"

Lin Shu opened his eyes and looked over in surprise.

"Who told you to be such a good person?" Old Yang glared at him, frustrated that he couldn't knock some sense into him.

In this troupe, martial arts weren't the only way to survive.

The other man had been born with a handsome face. That was his capital.

If he'd been willing to obey, he wouldn't still be in this position.

"A good person." Lin Shu decided the wall was too hard and shifted into a more comfortable position.

"What else?" Old Yang felt there was something strange about him today. Maybe the lashes had knocked him silly.

At that, Lin Shu thought it over, then nodded slightly. "Fair enough. I don't remember anyone ever calling me a bad person."

"..."

Old Yang let out a long sigh, no longer interested in this pointless talk.

If the other man had minded his own business, at most one child would've died of illness. But now, that old woman's entire family would probably suffer.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help offering another warning. "Do your job properly! If you don't truly join the troupe, you'll never get a share of the money. How'll you find a physician then? Do you really not want to live?"

"Money, huh?"

Lin Shu turned his head and looked at the black light in his palm.

It was a pitch-black copper coin that had appeared the instant the old woman died.

[Good deeds bring good fortune; evil deeds bring Evil Coin.]

[Those who kill and burn wear golden belts; those who build bridges and mend roads leave no corpse behind. For killing a lowly life, one Evil Coin is awarded.]

The brief text described how the old woman had indeed died at the hands of his predecessor.

Someone else might have felt guilt or regret.

But Lin Shu merely rubbed the coin with his thumb twice before deciding to keep it.

The instant he closed his palm around it, everything in his field of vision seemed to change. In the once-empty space of his chest, a blurry phantom appeared.

It looked like a Little White Wolf curled up in a ball.

The next moment, the copper coin in Lin Shu's hand suddenly sank into the phantom.

The Little White Wolf let out a faint, pained whimper. A trace of gray passed over its originally snowy-white body.

It groggily lifted its eyelids. Deep in its clear eyes, a thread of crimson quietly lit up.

Was this why he could live without a heart?

Was he being parasitized?

Lin Shu stared at his chest with interest.

The mist drifting from the phantom's body connected to his entire form like meridians, taking the place of his heart.

New words appeared before his eyes.

[An Evil Coin enters the immortal body, bringing calamity to the mortal world.]

[Half-Life Immortal: Silver-Eyed White Wolf]

[Seventh Grade of Qi Refining. Bright Moon Claw Technique: Beginner]

"..."

Lin Shu clenched and unclenched his fingers.

Before the coin went in, the mist around the White Wolf phantom had passively sustained his body's vitality. But now, he could actually draw on the mist himself.

He tried to wrest some control from the Little White Wolf, and immediately felt warmth begin to course through his body.

His wounds hadn't healed yet, but his strength was beginning to return, and the pain was gradually fading.

So immortals really existed... even if they looked a little strange.

Lin Shu closed his eyes, waiting for his strength to fully recover. At the same time, he sniffed. "Smells good."

"Don't even think about it. There's none for you." Old Yang swallowed.

Through the broken paper window, they could see a large pot being set up outside.

The fragrance of chilies and fatty meat overpowered the smell of blood. Wine jars were being carried to the table.

But only a few men were allowed to sit at the table.

Not only the two men locked in the woodshed, but even the old men and women in the troupe weren't allowed to touch the food. They could only take their hard, dry flatbreads back to their rooms.

"Once they've eaten and drunk their fill, they'll make their move."

Old Yang sighed and wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"That old woman's family still has a widow and an orphan left. When night falls, they'll realize something's wrong. The troupe won't give that widow a chance to report them to the authorities."

"Mm."

Lin Shu listened quietly, closed his eyes again, and sorted through his memories.

Blackwater City was a lawless place.

Even someone as powerful as Master Liu the Third, an external martial artist who could chop through another person's bones with one palm, had to keep his head down and make a living through swindling and cheating rather than more direct robbery.

There were even traces of cultivators in his memories.

The Blackwater Gang and the authorities had divided up the city. The whole place was surrounded by the Blackwater River and, for some unknown reason, had lost contact with the outside world.

This was a den of wolves with no way out!

As the gnawing hunger wore him down, a hint of greed gradually crept into Lin Shu's eyes.

Old Yang curled up and stopped smelling the savory meat, stopped listening to the noisy clinking of cups and bowls outside.

He only hoped the three men's business went smoothly tonight, so he and Lin Shu could avoid another beating.

As the two fell silent, the woodshed grew quiet.

Until nightfall.

The sky had darkened.

In the courtyard, Master Liu the Third rose to his feet, tucked the short blade from the table behind his waist, and brought the other two Ma Brothers along. Then he strode out of the courtyard.

Only Wang Xu remained at the table, drinking by himself. He had never trained in martial arts and was no match for those three, but watching over two cripples was well within his abilities.

"Tsk."

Lin Shu took it all in and swayed unsteadily to his feet.

He headed for the door. The night air was a little chilly, so he casually grabbed the spotless white-fur cloak hanging on the wall.

His predecessor had worn this very outfit while playing a fake immortal in the city.

"Have you gone mad? That's what you wear when you perform your spirit procession! You're covered in blood, and you still dare touch it? Liu San will beat you to death!"

Old Yang, still dazed, jolted awake. "And where are you going?!"

"I took the money. I want to get the job done."

Lin Shu draped the cloak over his shoulders, then pushed the door open.

In the courtyard.

Wang Xu picked up a fatty piece of meat with his chopsticks and chewed greedily.

His drunken face was full of smug satisfaction.

In his mind, he could still see himself that afternoon, decisively stepping forward and kicking the old geezer to death with one clean blow.

Now that was sharp judgment!

It had been a piece of cake, but the others hadn't dared do it. So they'd missed out on the chance to enjoy all this food and drink.

Thinking of it, Wang Xu couldn't help letting out a smug snort. He didn't notice someone approaching.

Lin Shu strolled up behind him. Seeing the hotpot still bubbling away, he reached out, picked up the wine jug, gave it a gentle shake, and drained it in one go.

"Who?! Who the hell let you out?"

Startled by the sudden figure, Wang Xu snapped at him on instinct. Then he saw it was Lin Shu.

Everyone knew how timid and easy to bully this kid was.

And after getting beaten half to death today, he was so beneath Wang Xu's notice that Wang Xu didn't even bother reaching for the short blade on the table.

"Ptooey! The wine's nothing special."

Lin Shu spat softly and shook his head, then looked at the hotpot with curiosity. "How's the meat? Is it good?"

Wang Xu was almost too angry to laugh.

He heard the provocation in Lin Shu's voice. The alcohol surged to his head, and a murderous glint flashed in his eyes as he prepared to strike. "It's pretty good. Why?"

Before the words had even left his mouth, he saw Lin Shu bare his teeth in a grin. They were white and even, yet somehow carried a bone-chilling coldness.

The next moment, the wine jug smashed hard into his head!

Crack!

Already drunk, Wang Xu staggered forward under the sudden blow.

Gurgle—

Before he could steady himself, a long-fingered hand clamped down on the back of his head and brutally shoved his entire face into the boiling hotpot!

"If it's good, then have some more."

Lin Shu's eyes were clear, black and white distinct, and his smile was utterly pure.

But the bulging veins on his right hand, and the sudden rasp in his voice, made something about him feel chillingly wrong.

Thud! Thud!

Wang Xu thrashed desperately with both arms, nearly overturning the table.

The agony made him open his mouth to scream on instinct, and scalding oily broth surged down his throat and into his stomach.

Lin Shu bent over, every muscle taut, like a beast clamped onto its prey.

His right hand held the back of Wang Xu's head down, while his left arm pressed hard against the man's shoulders.

The tips of a few fingers were submerged in the boiling broth too. They soon reddened and cooked, but the unbearable pain only made the smile at the corner of his mouth grow more savage.

Only when the table stopped shaking violently did Wang Xu finally go still. His entire head bobbed up and down in the red oil.

Another streak of black light darted out and disappeared into Lin Shu's sleeve.

The commotion woke the others in the courtyard.

But they all stared blankly through the windows toward the courtyard.

They watched as the white-fur cloak swayed slightly. The slender young man withdrew his hand, carelessly shook the oily broth from his fingertips, and then took the short blade from the table.

The whole thing had been done without the slightest hesitation.

This scene... had been even more terrifying than when Master Liu the Third and the others had beaten that old woman to death inside a sack earlier that day.

"Hah!"

Old Yang reached the woodshed door, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't cross the threshold.

He had witnessed everything that had just happened. His legs gave way, and he slumped to the ground, gripping the doorframe so tightly with both hands that he managed not to faint.

Only the conversation they'd had earlier about good and evil remained in his mind.

As far as Wang Xu was concerned, Lin Shu certainly wasn't a good man... but it seemed he'd never get the chance to say it to Lin Shu's face.

Old Yang stared blankly as the white-fur cloak slipped into the night and disappeared along Long Street.

Taking money to do a job?

Whose money had Lin Shu taken, and what job did he mean to do?