Seeker of Immortality? No, Survivor

Early morning, white mist spread through Smelting Town. Li Mo opened his eyes.

The others were still sound asleep. He got up quickly and went to the courtyard, using the well water to wash his face while stretching his limbs to loosen his muscles and stimulate blood flow.

Smelting Town had no roosters crowing, but there were bursts of insect chirps.

Li Mo caught a cricket to examine it. Aside from the cricket being listless due to late autumn, he found nothing unusual.

He was certain Smelting Town had cultivation methods—after all, the Mortal Realm had no ability to suppress the Death Sickness.

By the Mao Hour, the children gradually woke up.

Li Mo pretended he had just gotten up not long ago. He shared dry rations with Zhao Zhu, eating and drinking water while chatting about what they had seen and heard in Smelting Town.

A moment later.

Accountant Wu arrived belatedly, his deformed spine making his gait somewhat slow. Behind him were four stewards of varying appearances, along with a group of miscellaneous servants.

Li Mo's heart pounded wildly. Wu Wanfeng gave him an extremely strange feeling—perhaps because of an aura that made one's hair stand on end.

The children stood in a row, enduring the stewards' appraisals.

"You... you..."

Wu Wanfeng pointed at two children, signaling them to stand in the corner.

The children dared not raise any objection.

Li Mo then noticed that the selected children showed obvious signs of premature aging. From what he remembered, they had been physically weak since childhood, some even having nearly died young.

"A pity."

Wu Wanfeng's lips curled into a smile, his tongue licking his exposed gums.

"Even the Fetal Stage can't be passed—born to be lowly lives. You two, come with me to the Miscellaneous Servants Hall after this."

Li Mo's pupils dilated. The Book of Fortune surfaced with some memories of the Heart Beast Sect, mainly information about certain cultivation realm stages.

The Fetal Stage probably corresponded to a mortal martial artist from seven thousand years ago.

"Jie Jie Jie Jie..."

Wu Wanfeng laughed strangely, sweeping his gaze over the children. Satisfied, he said, "Humans, from birth, are destined to suffer the Death Sickness."

"But the Death Sickness differs."

"When an infant is still in the womb, they encounter the Fetal Stage Death Sickness."

Wu Wanfeng spoke slowly, his tone bizarre: "The Fetal Stage Death Sickness cannot be avoided. Being born with all five organs intact counts as having passed it."

Li Mo glanced at the two children set apart. It seemed their lifelong weakness stemmed from incomplete internal organs.

This world was truly bizarre.

Being born with incomplete internal organs and still surviving—the price paid was merely being unable to cultivate.

Wu Wanfeng narrowed his eyes, speaking with a hint of madness: "Don't think you're lucky. There are nine types of Death Sickness, appearing at different ages."

"Do you feel your pulse slowing?"

"The Death Sickness you're experiencing now causes organs to stagnate and fail. It's called 'Childhood Stage.' It fully erupts at twenty, and worsens to its extreme at fifty. Jie Jie Jie."

Li Mo's scalp went numb.

Eternal Life came with eternal damnation—nothing was more ironic than this.

He felt a hint of despair. Even if he survived the Childhood Stage Death Sickness in Smelting Town, perhaps decades later, a new Death Sickness would appear.

Li Mo scanned the children. Most were confused about the Death Sickness, but the older Ma Ergao looked extremely tense, his legs trembling uncontrollably.

Fetal Stage, Childhood Stage—these terms were originally ancient names for age groups.

Fetal Stage referred to an unborn fetus.

Childhood Stage referred to children whose hair was tied into buns like two horns on top of their heads.

But in the world of Eternal Life, they had become synonyms for the Death Sickness.

Ma Ergao couldn't help asking, "Lord Wu, if... if we don't survive the Childhood Stage Death Sickness, what... what happens?"

Wu Wanfeng wore an expression of delight, savoring the fear on Ma Ergao's face.

The tallest among the stewards, a burly man, offered reassurance: "As long as you pass the Childhood Stage Death Sickness, you won't have to worry for the next thirty years. The drawbacks of the Death Sickness naturally differ."

"For those who didn't pass the Fetal Stage, their limbs begin to atrophy after twenty, until they lose the ability to move."

"For those who don't pass the Childhood Stage, their organs will completely rot at fifty, causing Hollowing of the body and attracting corpse worms to gnaw away."

"Don't worry. The Pawnshop naturally has methods to pass the Childhood Stage Death Sickness."

Li Mo thought to himself, Just as I suspected. He then observed the four stewards, gleaning much information from their attire.

The burly man who spoke stood one meter nine, with large joints and palms devoid of any flesh, revealing gray-black bones. His waist token was engraved with "Misc."

The woman appeared gentle and refined on the surface, but her face was caked with heavy makeup, like a corpse about to be laid to rest. Her waist token read "Paint."

The middle-aged man had swollen, pale skin, exuding a foul fishy smell. His pupils were like needles. His waist token was "Jade."

Finally, the old woman in the corner had arms only half the normal length, tucked into her sleeves and crossed over her chest. Her waist token was "Porcelain."

Wu Wanfeng clasped his hands and said, "I ask the stewards to each pick three children. This Humble One has some errands entrusted by the shopkeeper, so I'll take my leave first."

The burly man nodded in response, "As it should be."

Wu Wanfeng led the children who hadn't passed the Fetal Stage out of the courtyard. Their fate awaiting them would be the pawnshop's menial labor.

"Then I won't stand on ceremony."

The burly man swiftly picked Ma Ergao, Zhao Zhu, and two others. He chose all the sturdy, strong children and likewise strode quickly out of the courtyard.

"Xu Hu, what's your hurry? The Porcelain Hall hasn't had newcomers in years, we need to look carefully."

The old woman felt along the children's backs, clicking her tongue in appraisal.

Li Mo hesitated for a moment, then took the initiative to approach the Underworld Makeup Woman.

"Esteemed Steward, this lowly one learned to read and paint at home, and I know some carpentry work."

"A bit clever."

The Underworld Makeup Woman covered her mouth with a light laugh, tacitly accepting Li Mo's submission. Then she chose the cousins Li Qingfang and Li Zhuang before walking out of the courtyard.

Li Mo kept his head down. His Eidetic Memory kept his thoughts unusually sharp.

After seeing the waist tokens, he realized they represented categories of antiques. In his past life, he'd dabbled in them and had some theoretical knowledge.

"Ceramics," "Calligraphy and Painting," "Jade Ware," "Miscellaneous Items."

Li Mo had no time to delve deeper into how the four antique categories connected to beast taming, but with his Eidetic Memory, Calligraphy and Painting was undoubtedly the better fit.

"Brother..."

Li Qingfang and the other child timidly grabbed at Li Mo's clothes.

Li Qingfang was just over five years old, Li Zhuang a bit older at seven. They were Li Mo's cousins, though they didn't interact much on ordinary days.

"Follow Steward Hu and learn to work patiently. Just keep your mouths shut."

From the greetings of the servants along the way, he'd learned the Underworld Makeup Woman's surname.

The Underworld Makeup Woman glanced at Li Mo, a hint of approval in her eyes. She hadn't expected a village child to be so attuned to the situation.

Li Mo led the siblings by the hand and soon arrived at the Calligraphy and Painting Hall in the western district. Even before they got close, the rich scent of ink filled the air.

Steward Hu had barely stepped into the Calligraphy and Painting Hall and handed Li Mo over to the Painter before vanishing without a trace.

Because Li Qingfang and her brother were too young and had to start with learning characters, the servants took them to the pawnshop's affiliated school.

Li Mo looked around the Calligraphy and Painting Hall. The atmosphere inside was suffocatingly oppressive. Over a hundred apprentices sat at desks, endlessly repeating the act of painting.

In the center of the hall stood a wooden figure covered in acupoints and meridian distributions, and a Porcelain Tiger Beast crouched low as if foraging.

The apprentices copied the statues without pause, even as their fingers bled.

Once they finished a painting, they tossed the rice paper to the ground. The floor was piled thick with layers, and only a few pieces earned the Painter's recognition, receiving some silver coins.