The Young Boss of the Shroud Shop

Tianjin, Blackwater Ancient Town.

In the old alleyway in the south of the city, every household had closed their doors and doused their lamps early, save for the shroud shop at the end of the alleyway with a pair of white lanterns hanging before it, its door still half-ajar.

Inside the shop, candlelight flickered.

Li Xiang sat before a dark-red long table, holding a silver needle as fine as an ox hair in his hand, his expression as focused as if he were carving a rare, peerless treasure.

Lying on the long table before him was a corpse.

To be precise, it was a corpse that had been shattered somewhat tragically.

The head and neck had parted ways, the skin and flesh at the severing point rolled back, and the bone fragments were jagged, clearly chopped off alive by someone with a dull blade.

"Bear with it a bit, it'll be over soon."

Li Xiang muttered under his breath, yet his movements under hand were shockingly fast.

The silver needle guided a specially crafted silkworm silk thread, shuttling between the pale skin and flesh.

The needlework he used was very bizarre, not ordinary stitching, but rather like embroidery. With every needle that fell, the rolled-back skin and flesh actually adhered seamlessly together, even the bloodstains fading by a fraction.

This was not saving a person; it was repairing a golden body.

The dead valued dignity above all.

Give them dignity, and they would keep you safe.

Treat them perfunctorily, and if they could not swallow this breath, they would come knocking on your door at midnight.

"The skin around the neck needs to be pulled tighter, otherwise it's prone to collapsing during the encoffining... Alas, these days, the craft of beheading is getting more and more crude; this knife wound was chopped like a dog gnawing on it."

Li Xiang muttered as he complaints, expertly tying a hidden knot, and finally wiped away the blood stains on the corpse's neck with a warm, damp towel.

After a series of operations, that originally ferocious corpse now appeared much more serene, and even the scar on the severed neck, if not looked at closely, resembled nothing more than a faint red line.

[Completed a corpse stitching, Embalmer experience value +1]

A line of light blue characters visible only to Li Xiang flashed past his retina along with the thunder of the rainy night.

Li Xiang did not stop his hands; his eyelids drooped, his movements mechanical and precise.

"Having transmigrated for a month and stitched over a hundred corpses, this damn progress bar is finally about to fill up."

He sighed silently in his heart.

Deep within his mind, an ancient, heavy book bound in unknown animal skin floated quietly.

The three large characters [Book of a Hundred Trades] loomed faintly on the cover, exuding a desolate, archaic aura.

The pages turned automatically, the contents of the first page clearly visible.

[Profession: Embalmer]

[Level: Lv9 (89/90)]

[Tier: Tier 0]

[Profession Trait: Corpse Sense (Junior)]

[Corpse Sense (Junior): Long-term exposure to corpses leaves your body temperature perpetually lower than that of ordinary people, and your heartbeat slow. Your resistance to corpse poison, yin Qi, and killing intent is greatly enhanced, and your stamina recovery speed in nighttime or gloomy environments increases by 10%.]

[Profession Ability: Rest in Peace]

[Rest in Peace: Corpses collected, stitched, and made up by your hands will be suppressed by rules. No matter how heavy their resentment, within seven days, they will never undergo a corpse transformation.]

[Hint: Next level Lv10 unlocks new profession ability]

This was the first page, and there was a second page behind it.

[Profession: Cook]

[Level: Lv4 (36/40)]

[Tier: Tier 0]

[Profession Trait: Fireworks Qi (Junior)]

[Fireworks Qi (Junior): As a cook, you naturally carry the fireworks Qi of the mortal world. For those low-level evil spirits that fear yang Qi and favor the gloomy, the smell of cooking oil and hearth fire on your body is the best protective talisman.]

[Profession Ability: None]

[Hint: Next level Lv5 unlocks new profession ability]

In this troubled world rife with chaos and rampaging demons, this [Book of a Hundred Trades] was Li Xiang's sole reliance for settling down and making a living.

Unlike those Golden Finger systems that only issued quests, the [Book of a Hundred Trades] was as silent as a mute, lacking intelligence, a mall, or annihilation penalties; its sole function was to visualize "professions."

As long as Li Xiang engaged in behaviors conforming to "professional logic," he could gain experience.

"Just a bit more experience needed."

Li Xiang looked at the final gap on the corpse's abdomen, the silver needle in his hand falling once more.

"Clatter!"

At that moment, the thick Cypress Wood Gate of the shop was kicked open roughly from the outside.

A damp, biting wind mixed with rain instantly poured in, making the oil lamp indoors flicker and almost go out.

Li Xiang's hand was as steady as a rock, not even a single eyebrow twitching as the silver needle still accurately pierced into the flesh.

Three big men wearing black coir raincoats barged in.

They carried a bamboo pole polished to a gleaming shine on their backs.

Two cyan nylon ropes were tied to the pole, and their bodies carried not only the fishy smell of rain, but also a strong stench of cheap tobacco and the body odor of people who had spent years hanging around the docks.

The man leading them was a bald fellow with a face full of fleshy chops. His waist bulged, tucked with a box cannon, and he held a windproof hurricane lantern in his hand.

"Little Li, still busy working?"

The bald man slammed the hurricane lantern onto the dust-covered offering table and grinned, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth stained yellow by smoke, though his tone held not a single shred of politeness.

Li Xiang finally finished the last stitch, tied the knot, and snipped the thread, his movements smooth and flowing.

[Completed a corpse suture, Embalmer EXP +1]

[Embalmer level increased to Lv10]

[Profession Ability unlocking...]

A warm current flashed through his mind, but Li Xiang did not rush to check that new ability. Instead, he leisurely inserted the silver needle back into the needle pouch, picked up a wet cloth to the side, and wiped his hands before finally turning around to look at the bald man.

"So it's Third Master Huang of the Yellow Dog Gang." Li Xiang's voice was clear and cold, carrying a trace of youthful frailty. "Visiting in the middle of the night—are you sending off a client, or taking shelter from the rain?"

"Sending off a client, but not from our Yellow Dog Gang. It's an urgent job for the military lords passing through Blackwater Town on their way to Tianjin."

The bald man called Third Master Huang was not annoyed. With just a wave of his hand, the two followers behind him immediately and respectfully stepped aside to reveal a few figures standing in the rain curtain.

At the entrance stood five or six burly men wearing military uniforms.

Their military uniforms were soaking wet, covered in mud and dark red bloodstains—the uniforms of the Black Tiger Army from the Tianjin Warlord faction.

This bunch was notoriously ruthless, killing without blinking an eye, even more bandit-like than actual bandits.

The officer leading them had a build as burly as a black bear.

He wore no military cap, and a ferocious saber scar lay horizontally across his bald head.

What was most chilling was his left hand, which was not a human hand at all, but rather a beastly claw covered in black hair and with hook-like nails.

The beast claw was still twitching slightly, the blood vessels on it bulging like earthworms, obviously having undergone some kind of inferior demonic limb transplant surgery.

Speaking of demonic limb transplant surgery, one had to mention this Great Xin Dynasty where human lives were treated like grass.

It was now the third year of the Great Xin Dynasty; the old authority had collapsed and the Dynastic Fortune was shattered.

The southern provinces had declared independence, jointly establishing a new government in an attempt to save the country through new learning.

The north had fallen into a chaotic quagmire of warlord rivalry.

Along the coastline, the ironclads of foreign powers roared day and night, bringing not only guns and artillery, but also a new occupational system filled with the scent of steel, gears, and alchemical potions.

Demonic limb transplant surgery was one of the profession abilities of the [Doctor].

A profession was the bridge of communication between humanity and the heavens.

In this world, the Three Teachings and Nine Classes, the Hundred Schools of Thought, and the three hundred and sixty trades all had their respective masters. Any trade, once studied to the extreme, could make one a professional.

Entering a trade was extremely difficult, however, requiring long-term bitter cultivation or work experience; only by exhausting one's heart's blood could one possibly touch the threshold.

Those with crooked intentions or who violated occupational ethics would be backlashed by the occupational rules, degenerating into half-human, half-ghost monsters.

Li Xiang had transmigrated into this Age of Chaos upon waking up, becoming the young boss of a Shroud Shop in Blackwater Town, Tianjin.

According to the original owner's memories, he also had a grandfather who had taken an order to send off a client four months ago and had never returned. If not for the help of the Book of a Hundred Trades, Li Xiang would never have been able to sustain the work of the Shroud Shop.

"Old Li buried my parents." Third Master Huang took out a rolled cigarette, lit it on the oil lamp, and took a deep breath.

"I, Huang San, am a man of loyalty, and I know that Little Li's hand skills have entered the trade. Naturally, I had to introduce such a big business opportunity to you."

It is easy to invite a deity but hard to send them away; this was definitely not a business to be trifled with.

Li Xiang narrowed his eyes, letting his gaze linger on that beast claw for half a second before immediately looking away.

"What are you motherfuckers talking nonsense for!"

The leading officer's voice was hoarse, as if he had swallowed charcoal embers through his throat. He strode into the shop, his beast claw slamming fiercely onto the counter, and the hard pear-wood counter was instantly gouged with several deep marks.

"You're the boss here?"

"Yes, yes, yes. Little old man Li Xiang, counting on the care of the neighbors, just trying to make a living."

Li Xiang shrank his neck, adopting the appearance of being frightened out of his wits, while quietly gripping the short knife hidden in his sleeve.

"Do you know how to wait on the dead?" The officer stared at him sinisterly, a beast-like fierce light leaking out from his turbid, yellowed eyeballs.

"Look at what you're saying, little old man runs a shroud shop after all, eating this bowl of rice meant for the dead. Whether it's sewing corpses, putting on makeup, or conducting passing rituals, little old man understands a thing or two." Li Xiang forced a smile.

"Knowing how is enough."

The officer waved that beast claw and roared toward the outside: "Carry him in!"