Sucking the Marrow from Their Bones

"Captain, if I master this Tortoise-Snake Fist manual to its highest level, will I reach the Blood-Qi Perfection realm you mentioned and be able to join the Guard Hall?"

Lu Mian asked curiously.

Chen Xiuzhu froze for a moment, a faint, complicated expression crossing his gaunt face.

"The Guard Hall recruits once every two months. Your background doesn't matter. As long as you're strong enough, you can join."

"If you can bring the Tortoise-Snake Fist to perfection, you'll definitely qualify."

"But martial training requires both talent and resources. For people of lowly status like us, reaching perfection is nothing but a fool's dream."

Lu Mian narrowed his eyes slightly.

He felt that although Chen Xiuzhu seemed to be speaking to him, the man was actually trying to comfort himself.

Lu Mian asked no more questions. He simply hung the talisman-water pouch and token on his person and tucked the Turtle-Snake Boxing Manual inside his robes.

"Everyone in the Dust-Returning Courtyard gets a little house of their own."

"The address is engraved on the back of your token. Go find it yourself in a bit."

Chen Xiuzhu told Lu Mian a few more things about being a corpse collector, then hurried away.

Lu Mian began searching for his house in the sprawling refugee district.

"Number eighteen, South Street, Third Alley..."

Fortunately, although the low stone houses were packed close together, each had its own house number.

In less time than it took an incense stick to burn, Lu Mian found his little house.

The stone house was small, probably only seven or eight square meters, with a damp, moldy wooden bed, a soot-blackened stove, and a wardrobe whose doors were already missing.

Smoke had blackened the roof, and the living conditions looked dreadful.

He would even have to use the outhouse at the entrance to the alley.

"Whatever else... it's still better than a shack."

"At least it keeps the wind out, and it isn't as cold."

After offering himself a little consolation, Lu Mian began tidying up.

"You the new arrival?"

"Which courtyard did you join?"

Suddenly, a burly man dressed in black walked into the house, both arms covered in tattoos.

Two thugs with vicious eyes followed behind him.

The house was small to begin with. With three burly men crowding inside at once, Lu Mian was forced straight into a corner.

"I joined the Dust-Returning Courtyard."

Lu Mian spoke with an apparently frightened look.

"The Dust-Returning Courtyard... now that's a good place to make money."

"This alley is Black Snake Gang territory. You pay us five taels of silver every month."

"We'll keep you safe."

The tattooed man draped an arm around Lu Mian's shoulders as though they were old friends and chuckled.

"Five taels of silver?"

"Sir, we don't get paid at the Dust-Returning Courtyard."

Lu Mian hurriedly explained.

Chen Xiuzhu had just told him that.

The Dust-Returning Courtyard provided only two meals a day, without a penny in wages.

"Hah!"

"You handle so many corpses every day. You're bound to find something valuable."

"I don't necessarily need silver. Anything valuable can count toward your payment, too."

The burly man grinned.

"Sir... could you lower it a little?"

Lu Mian tried to bargain.

"You're pushing your luck, brat."

"Unfortunately for you, the boss set this rule."

"Remember, you have to hand over five taels of silver before the fifteenth of next month. Otherwise, you'll find out just how ruthless I, Luo Shi, can be!"

"Don't think anyone's going to get justice for you... go ask the old folks around here."

"On this street, the Black Snake Gang is the law."

With that, the burly man swaggered away with his men.

After watching them leave, Lu Mian shut the door, his gaze turning cold.

Where there are people, there are power struggles.

The refugee district is such a mess that the authorities can't keep it under control. It's only natural for gangs to spring up.

The interests behind all this are tangled together. A corpse collector like me probably won't get anywhere, no matter who I turn to.

No wonder Chen Xiuzhu had me come here on my own.

Lu Mian sat on the damp, moldy wooden bed and took out the Tortoise-Snake Fist manual.

The world had changed drastically. Not only did eerie, evil entities prey on people, but wicked men also sucked the marrow from their bones.

If he wanted to survive, he could only make himself stronger.

Only then could he face those evil entities and protect himself from being bullied!

The original Lu Mian had come from a comfortable family and attended a private school, so he could still read these words.

"Spirit Turtle Conceals Its Breath, Serpent Moves Through the Nether..."

"One breath sinks into the sea; nine deaths seal the soul..."

This was the guiding principle of the Tortoise-Snake Fist.

The Turtle Fist nourished health through breathing, while the Snake Fist was insidious and lethal.

I need to learn the Turtle Fist first and build up my blood and qi before I can practice the Snake Fist.

The Snake Fist is vicious and devious. Without tortoise breathing to nourish me, it'll drain my body instead and leave me with a yin deficiency.

After committing the Turtle Fist movements to memory, Lu Mian stepped into the open space in the room.

He stood straight, held his arms in a circle before his chest, and drew a deep breath.

This mimicked Spirit Tortoise Sips Water.

He could not release this breath afterward. He had to keep it inside his body and perform the entire Turtle Fist sequence for it to count as one round of practice.

The Turtle Fist emphasized stillness, and its movements were relatively simple. The only difficulty lay in holding that single breath.

"Spirit Tortoise Hears the Waves... Still Water Supports the Stele... Subduing the Waves, Calming the Sea..."

Lu Mian performed the Turtle Fist movements.

But halfway through, his chest began to burn, and his lungs felt as though they were about to explode.

In the end, he failed to hold his breath.

"Huff, huff, huff..."

Lu Mian's breathing sounded like a bellows as he gasped for air.

It hurts...

Am I practicing it wrong...?

A searing pain filled Lu Mian's lungs, and it took a long time to subside.

Rather than pressing on with his training, he stopped to think.

Without finding the right method, practicing a hundred times would be useless and might even damage his body.

I can't just force myself to hold that breath.

I need to coordinate it with the rhythm of my punches. Only then can I complete the entire Turtle Fist sequence.

That should be it.

Lu Mian changed his approach.

Instead of stubbornly holding his breath, he followed the Turtle Fist sequence and let that breath flow throughout his body.

This method could not succeed on the first attempt either. Lu Mian could only feel his way forward through repeated failures.

He practiced like this until the afternoon. Once his entire body was exhausted, he collapsed onto the wooden bed and fell asleep. He only woke groggily after dark and barely managed to make his way to the Dust-Returning Courtyard.

Dinner consisted of a bowl of rice, two pieces of fatty pork, and some wild greens.

In times like these, such a meal was already a rare luxury.

Once again, he wolfed it down.

This time, Lu Mian felt noticeably more warmth spreading from his stomach than when he had eaten the egg noodles that morning.

Looks like I really do need meat.

Lu Mian could feel his exhaustion fading.

After everyone had eaten their fill, the Corpse Collector teams of the Dust-Returning Courtyard began assembling one after another.

Lu Mian did a rough count. There were ten teams altogether, each with around five people-sometimes fewer, but never more.

Soon, he spotted Chen Xiuzhu.

The other three corpse collectors were already following behind him.

Seeing this, Lu Mian hurried over.

Once everyone had arrived, Chen Xiuzhu said weakly, "Tonight will be a little easier than last night. We're covering the refugee district, so we won't have to go to the Shed Quarantine Zone."

"We just need to wait here at the Dust-Returning Courtyard for orders."

Corpse collectors were assigned different areas, too.

The Shed District was undoubtedly the most exhausting and dangerous, while the refugee district was naturally a little better.

As for the outer and inner cities, even when someone died there, the bodies generally were not theirs to handle.