The Corpse-Liberation Immortal of the Coffin Shop

South of Water Mouth City, Blessed Life Coffin Shop.

The frigid twelfth-month wind carried scraps of snow, scattering them across the shop's back courtyard.

The cypress by the wall had long since withered, its branches bare. Half a hemp rope hung from its tip, like a kite with its string snapped in the cold wind.

Ren Qing wore a patched old garment. Squatting beside a pile of lumber with an adze in hand, he carefully shaved down a plank along its grain.

The blade skimmed over the wood, curling up pale yellow shavings.

"Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, amid all movement and stillness, let the heart be like Mount Tai."

The tip of his nose was red from the cold, yet his movements only grew more deft.

A new coffin in the open yard had already begun to take shape. All that remained was to plane the coffin lid smooth and carve a few decorative patterns.

"Frog Immortal Lord, bring me an ink line."

Without lifting his head, Ren Qing muttered to himself in the otherwise deserted courtyard.

The words had barely left his mouth.

Croak, croak.

Clear frog calls rang out from the well in the corner, particularly jarring in this twelfth month when all things lay silent.

Then a toad caked in wet mud crawled out. Dressed in a dull gray Daoist novice's robe, it moved with the stiffness of old age as it hurriedly fetched the ink line from the steps.

The toad novice paused after every two hops. It stiffly handed the ink line to Ren Qing, croaked a few more times, then retreated to the well mouth, not daring to come closer.

Ren Qing used the ink line to mark black lines across the lumber's surface.

"A practitioner of the Dao, whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, must not leave the Dao for even an instant."

"Mouse Divine Generals, bring me some lumber."

A rustling came from the woodpile by the wall. Two black-furred rats silently appeared, likewise dressed in palm-sized Daoist novice robes, and together carried a piece of lumber to Ren Qing's feet.

Ren Qing brushed the snow from his shoulder and continued working the wood without paying the black-rat novices any mind.

Wood shavings fell onto the snow, lightly covering it in a layer of pale white.

Squeak, squeak, squeak!!

A string of noisy mouse cries rang out.

Ren Qing frowned slightly. With one careless application of too much force, the wood snapped in two.

"How dare you disrupt this Daoist's cultivation."

He glanced sideways. The two black-rat novices instantly froze where they stood, then collapsed without warning. Their robes scattered like smoke, revealing the corpses of two ordinary rats.

"Daoist novices enlightened from rats possess wretchedly low intelligence. In the end, they cannot attain the Great Dao."

"The toad's intelligence is passable, but after enlightenment, its lifespan still cannot break through its innate limits."

Ren Qing looked around the back courtyard and noticed quite a few sparrows perched along the eaves. He took a small knife from his waist and slowly trimmed his nails.

He flicked a nail clipping away with force.

The sparrows fluttered their wings and scrambled for it. Before long, one seized it in its beak. The instant it swallowed the clipping, a Daoist robe appeared around it out of thin air, transforming it into a Daoist novice.

"Mm, I'll call you... Sparrow Fairy."

"Go to the box by the window and bring me the rivets."

Ren Qing gestured toward the woodshed, and the sparrow novice naturally obeyed.

The two rat corpses had already been tossed beneath the banyan tree by the toad novice.

"This immortal of yours can only perform such childish acts of enlightenment in this world."

A melancholy look appeared on Ren Qing's face. He sighed and continued with his work.

He had arrived in this world half a month ago. The original owner had died after a persistent high fever, conveniently becoming the body Ren Qing seized for his rebirth.

His previous life had been on Blue Star, a world where technology was advanced and spiritual qi had run dry—the end-of-Dharma age.

Before reaching thirty, Ren Qing had developed an incurable rash. When studying medicine yielded no results, he began seeking immortality and the Dao. He had practically combed through every surviving ancient orphan text and fragmentary scroll, yet he had never managed to cross the threshold.

Later, he discovered another path to immortality.

Corpse liberation.

He had spent his entire fortune refining a pill said to protect the soul, then found the ruins where an ancient immortal had once cultivated in seclusion. Wearing a heap of miscellaneous antique ritual artifacts, he had, through a fortunate coincidence, successfully achieved corpse liberation.

"The superior practitioner raises his form and ascends into the void, and is called a Heavenly Immortal; the middling practitioner abstains from grain and dines on rosy clouds, and is called an Earthly Immortal; the lesser practitioner dies first and sheds his shell afterward, and is called a Corpse-Liberation Immortal."

"I spent several years in a psychiatric hospital in my previous life, cast aside my flesh to attain the Dao, yet my soul instead ascended to this world."

A vicious glint flashed through Ren Qing's eyes. This world differed little from his last. No matter how he breathed in the morning glow or sensed his soul and body, nothing worked.

"Could this also be an end-of-Dharma age where spiritual qi has run dry?"

"Since this Daoist has already become immortal, I ought to be in the immortal realm. If I still cannot enter the Dao after becoming immortal and ascending, then did I not become immortal for nothing?"

His title as a Corpse-Liberation Immortal was undeserved. At most, his flesh and blood could enlighten small living creatures. After enlightenment, they remained birds and beasts in essence. Moreover, his experiments had shown that the lifespans of bird-and-beast Daoist novices would not increase by even the slightest bit.

It had merely gained nascent intelligence, and its physique had improved slightly.

Ren Qing glanced at the toad Daoist boy, who wisely lowered his head and kept silent.

The toad Daoist boy let out a long breath and silently burrowed back down to the bottom of the well. It understood one thing well: if it wanted to live long, it had to make its presence as faint as possible.

The immortal master was petty-minded. In just half a month, several batches of Daoist boys had already been replaced.

The backyard returned to silence.

Ren Qing skillfully shaved the edges of the coffin lid smooth and rounded, when he heard footsteps coming from the inner room.

With a thought, the Daoist boys scattered in every direction to hide.

"Ah Qing?"

The main gate was pushed open.

Ren Shanshi came out wearing a thick padded coat. Though only in his early forties, he looked far older than his peers, his face creased with wrinkles.

"Ah Qing, you've been squatting out here working until now again?"

He scolded him affectionately, but when his gaze fell upon the coffin, his tone softened somewhat. "These patterns are quite neat, though."

"Oh, right—Ah Qing, this is Constable Chen."

Ren Qing dusted the wood shavings from his clothes and noticed the yamen runner standing behind Ren Shanshi.

Chen Qi had a lean, capable build, and the scabbard of the saber at his waist had been polished bright with wear. "Brother Ren, your boy was badly ill with a cold half a month ago. He's only been recovered for a few days, and he can already help make coffins."

Ren Shanshi complained with his mouth, but his pride was impossible to hide. "He just can't stay idle. The doctor told him to rest more, but he insists on coming over here."

Ren Qing did not respond, merely putting on an awkward air as he said, "Greetings, Constable Chen."

Chen Qi did not waste time on pleasantries. Looking beyond the courtyard, he said, "Brother Ren, a decapitated corpse will be delivered to the backyard later. I'll have to trouble you to tidy it up. It needs to be buried first thing tomorrow morning."

Ren Shanshi nodded in agreement. "Rest assured, Constable Chen. We'll make sure it's handled cleanly."

Chen Qi took out a money pouch and handed it to Ren Shanshi, lowering his voice. "I'm heading back to the yamen first. You know official business is not something to gossip about. I'll have Little Six bring the corpse over later."

"Understood, understood."

With that, the old constable hurried away, his figure quickly vanishing into the depths of the alley.

Ren Shanshi's smile faded. He let out a long sigh. "Ah Qing, good thing you made coffins in your spare time. This one is just the right size to house that corpse."

"Father, what's the corpse's background?"

After hesitating briefly, Ren Shanshi explained, "Song Baizhou of Wish-Fulfillment Abbey."

"Daoist Song? But Constable Chen said it was a decapitated corpse. Did he commit a crime?"

Wish-Fulfillment Abbey was not large, with only a dozen or so Daoists, but it was the only Daoist abbey in Hekou, this remote town. As for Buddhist temples, Ren Qing had yet to see a single bald monk in this world.

Ren Qing knew that Song Baizhou had served as the abbey master for decades and had a considerable reputation, often presiding over weddings and funerals.

"Ah Qing, it's connected to the Immortal Ascension Sect."

With clear apprehension, Ren Shanshi began describing the Immortal Ascension Sect, his eyes constantly sweeping toward the courtyard entrance.

Just in the middle of last month, all thirteen members of a farmstead on the outskirts of Hekou had died without leaving intact corpses behind. It was said that an altar of the Immortal Ascension Sect had been found at the site.

But by the time the constables arrived, there was no trace of the Immortal Ascension Sect to be found.

The Immortal Ascension Sect was a group of madmen who never stopped talking about attaining immortality and the Dao.

Fear surfaced in Ren Shanshi's expression. "I only heard it from Constable Chen. This Daoist Song had always been kind and amiable—who would have thought he was connected to the Immortal Ascension Sect?"

He wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Apparently, Song Baizhou even used orphaned children for blood sacrifices every so often. Luckily, an orphaned child managed to escape from the abbey, which alerted the yamen. They spent no small amount of manpower before finally capturing him."

"Yes, he's finally dead."

Ren Shanshi did not notice the strange note in his youngest son's voice.

Ren Qing lowered his head and polished the wood, without the slightest surprise in his heart. Instead, he was eager to make a move, as though he had long foreseen Song Baizhou's death.

In truth, Ren Qing himself was indeed the reason Song Baizhou had been brought to justice.

When Ren Qing had first arrived in this world, he had only just recovered from a severe cold and had gone with Ren Shanshi to burn incense at Wish-Fulfillment Abbey.

He had noticed something wrong with Song Baizhou. His life force had clearly been severed, yet he had never truly died. Apart from that, however, he was an ordinary mortal in every respect.

Later, Ren Qing learned of the Immortal Ascension Sect's existence.

Immortal ascension?!!

What a grand boast!!!

The Immortal Ascension Sect claimed that its teachings made no distinctions, that it possessed three thousand paths to immortality, and that it welcomed disciples far and wide. Then let me see whether you are truly worthy of your name!

Ren Qing had previously devoted most of his efforts to plotting against Song Baizhou.

First, he used birds and beasts to create chaos, allowing the children to escape. Then he unearthed a great number of skeletons from the rear mountain of Wish-Fulfillment Abbey, sending Song Baizhou beneath the executioner's blade at the market square.

As it happened, Blessed Life Coffin Shop had an under-the-table arrangement with Constable Chen. Corpses that should have been cremated together were often handed over to Ren Shanshi for coffining and burial after a bribe had changed hands.

Even if the Immortal Ascension Sect did not intervene, Song Baizhou's disciples would not simply watch their master's corpse vanish without a trace.

Of course, even if Song Baizhou had not been sent to Blessed Life Coffin Shop, Ren Qing had ways to come into contact with him.

"The Immortal Ascension Sect followers at the river mouth were certainly more than just Song Baizhou. Fortunately, the yamen had acted swiftly—otherwise, there would inevitably have been room for things to change."

Thud, thud, thud.

Father and son exchanged a look.

Ren Shanshi hurriedly opened the front gate. A young constable stood outside, pushing a cart bearing a corpse, while Song Baizhou's head had been placed separately in a bamboo basket.

Zhao Xiaoliu's face was pale. He kept coughing softly and furtively avoided looking at the corpse.

"Cough, cough."

"Shopkeeper Ren, I... I've brought the body."

Ren Qing discreetly sized Zhao Xiaoliu up, feeling that the latter was far too frightened. Beside him, Ren Shanshi had already taken the bamboo basket; the severed head weighed heavily in his hands.

"Rest assured, Constable. I'll have it ready for you by tomorrow morning."

"Cough, cough. Th-thank you, Shopkeeper Ren. I'm feeling unwell, so I'll be taking my leave first."

Zhao Xiaoliu had no wish to linger. Staggering, he headed back the way he had come.

Father and son wheeled the cart into the rear courtyard.

Ren Shanshi said worriedly, "A-Qing, you've only just recovered from your cold. The doctor told you to rest more. Don't catch a chill again—why not go back to your room and lie down?"

Ren Qing's gaze fell on the corpse wrapped in a straw mat. "Dad, I'm fine now. Let me lend you a hand. This doesn't look like light work. You'll probably be busy all night by yourself, and I'm afraid you won't be able to endure it."

Ren Shanshi hesitated for several breaths, but in the end, he did not refuse again.

"All right, then."

"Making coffins is rough work, A-Qing, so don't get your hands involved. Just keep an eye on the body for your father. Later, the two of us can tidy him up together."

"All right."

While Ren Shanshi was going in and out of the storeroom, Ren Qing lifted a corner of the straw mat.

The headless corpse's limbs were stiff. Its Daoist robe was covered in grime, revealing a patched inner lining beneath—proof of how frugal he had been in life.

Ren Qing frowned slightly. He noticed that the gap at the corpse's neck had been stuffed with yellow mud.

Something was wrong.

It seemed that a great quantity of yellow mud had been packed inside the body as well.

At the same time, the skin of the corpse's arms was covered in bloody nail-scratches—densely packed, each one forming the two characters: "ascend to immortality."

"His vitality had already been cut off before the beheading, yet he didn't die. Could there truly be some divine art or secret method?"

Excitement rose in Ren Qing's heart. On the surface, this world possessed only external martial arts that tempered one's strength. He could only place his hopes on the Immortal Ascension Sect. If the corpse showed even a trace of cultivation, he could try to continue plotting for a lineage of inheritance.

"Huh."

He noticed that the cloth shoes on the corpse's left and right feet were worn unevenly. After a brief search, he pulled several yellowed pages from a hidden layer beneath the insoles.

The cover pages were already badly damaged, but three characters could vaguely be made out.

"Ascension Record?"

Ren Qing glanced at Ren Shanshi, then continued reading. The handwriting inside was rushed and scrawled, as if written in a state of extreme exhilaration. The first few lines read:

"Enter my Immortal Ascension Gate, and even mortal bones become true. Believe in my Patriarch's Way, and every man shall have his share."

"What kind of nonsensical doggerel is this? How could ascending to immortality be child's play?"

"Absurd."

The Ascension Record was easy to understand—one could even say it was excessively crude. It was interspersed with a great many illustrations describing how to ascend to immortality, and claimed that the Immortal Ascension Sect possessed three thousand kinds of immortal ascension methods.

The book recorded two wildly fantastical methods of ascending to immortality.

"Song Baizhou must have cultivated this one in life... the Yellow Mud Immortal."

Cultivating the Yellow Mud Immortal required one to turn oneself into a clay statue. The entry stage involved hollowing out one's bones and flesh, then filling the body with yellow mud. Once perfected, the flesh would gradually stiffen, the divine consciousness would grow ever broader, and one would receive the incense offerings of ten thousand households.

In the end, one would attain the Yellow Mud Immortal. Following the steps, it would probably take only seven years.

"Heh."

There was another type named the Molting Immortal, though its contents were incomplete. The method was to seal oneself inside a coffin made of dark yinwood and bury it underground. As long as someone watered the grave with blood each day, one could shed one's old body.

After shedding one's old body seven times in succession, one could attain the Molting Immortal. The only difficulty was that each time demanded more blood to be poured over the grave than the last.

"Why does this feel like a method the Immortal Ascension Sect uses to trick people into joining? Anyway, once they mutilate themselves to death, they can simply announce to the outside world that they've already ascended to immortality."

Ren Qing was immensely disappointed, but then Ren Shanshi's movements interrupted him.

Ren Shanshi had already finished the coffin. A layer of the five grains had been spread inside, and insect-repelling dried grass had been laid throughout. "A-Qing, nothing strange, right?"

Ren Qing tucked the Ascension Record into his clothes and hid it close to his body.

"Dad, look at Daoist Song's hands. There are a lot of words on them."

Ren Shanshi caught sight of the corpse's arms, his expression turning grave. "A-Qing, don't tell anyone about this. Let it rot in the bellies of just us two. Since it involves the Immortal Ascension Sect, less trouble is better than more."

"Mm, I understand."

With that, he took out needle and thread and skillfully stitched the head back on.

The corpse quickly became whole again, save for a savage seam now running across its neck.

"Into the coffin." Ren Shanshi rubbed his aching lower back.

Father and son worked together to place the corpse inside the coffin, then set the lid in place.

"Qing, bring the rivets over..."

Before he could finish—

Bang.

A dull knock came from inside the coffin, loud and clear.

Ren Shanshi stood frozen where he was, eyes bulging in disbelief.

Bang bang.

Bang bang bang.

The knocking grew louder and more frantic.

"A... a corpse rising?!" Ren Shanshi had lived more than half his life, yet he had never encountered anything so bizarre. For a moment, he failed to react.

BANG!!

The coffin lid crashed heavily onto the ground.

Ren Qing looked toward the coffin, only to find that Song Baizhou's corpse was no longer inside.

In its place stood a clay immortal statue!

The immortal statue was molded entirely from yellow clay, its features painted in bold, heavy colors. Its eyes were two jarringly crimson patches, and its lips curled apart in a smile. Its appearance was unmistakably Song Baizhou's.

Even his Daoist robe had fused into the immortal statue.

"It... it opened its eyes!!" Ren Shanshi stepped in front of his younger son.

The immortal statue's smiling eyes slowly opened. At almost the exact same instant, every candle in the coffin shop flickered—and went out together!

Darkness swallowed the backyard.

Ren Shanshi hurriedly took out a fire starter, and orange-red firelight flared back to life.

Father and son looked at each other. The immortal statue in the coffin had vanished without a trace.

"Impossible."

Ren Shanshi stared at the patch of mud stains, muttering under his breath. His face flickered between light and shadow in the firelight. "Is it human or ghost?!"

Ren Qing licked his lips, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted.

It worked!

It really worked!!!