Self-Inflicted Evil Cannot Be Survived

In Sima Xiong's life's flashback, news had spread that Jia San, the steward of the imperial estate, possessed a fragment of the Jingchan Palace Mechanism Map. Especially after it was confirmed by the old madam of the Dongan Escort Agency, many people of the martial world had begun to stir restlessly.

That day, his second junior brother, Lu Ruokong, approached Sima Xiong and invited him to seize the fragment of the Jingchan Palace Mechanism Map.

"Senior Brother, Junior Sister has fallen for you. Master will surely pass the Wuding Gang on to you."

"If we can seize the fragment of the Jingchan Palace Mechanism Map and present it to Master, it will strengthen the Wuding Gang's reputation on one hand, and serve as your betrothal gift on the other. Master and Junior Sister will surely be delighted."

Second Junior Brother Lu Ruokong waggled his brows.

From the scenes flashing before his eyes, Wen Qingkong recognized his second junior brother, Lu Ruokong, as the young leader who had delivered the corpse yesterday.

Faintly, Wen Qingkong felt that Lu Ruokong might not have had good intentions.

Sima Xiong was somewhat tempted. Although Master might not care about a betrothal gift, he could not truly marry Junior Sister empty-handed.

As one of Yujing City's three major gangs, the Wuding Gang's master had already seen many treasures.

Only something like a fragment of the Jingchan Palace Mechanism Map could catch his master's eye.

"But the imperial estate has many skilled guards, and martial artists are watching from the shadows. The two of us may not succeed."

Sima Xiong still had his reservations.

Lu Ruokong patted his chest and shouted, "Senior Brother, what are you afraid of? The two of us will go together. With the swords in our hands, even if we cannot obtain the fragment, escaping unharmed should not be a problem."

Provoked by Lu Ruokong, heroic spirit surged within Sima Xiong.

"Fine!"

"We'll do it. We'll go together and seize that fragment!"

Without telling anyone, Sima Xiong and Lu Ruokong secretly left the Wuding Gang and headed for the imperial estate.

By then, the imperial estate had already begun extremely tight security measures. The news had spread so quickly, and Jia San was no fool.

Sima Xiong and Lu Ruokong cautiously entered the imperial estate and made their way toward Jia San's room.

Unfortunately, before they arrived, they had already been discovered by the estate's expert guards.

The estate's guards and servants swarmed them. The two fought back with their swords, and after a bitter battle, Sima Xiong suffered severe injuries but still escaped alongside Lu Ruokong.

On the road back to the city, in a silent and deserted forest, Lu Ruokong placed his senior brother Sima Xiong, whom he had been carrying, on the ground.

By then, Sima Xiong no longer had the strength even to speak. The final scene in his life's flashback was Lu Ruokong covering his mouth and nose.

Host acquired Wuding Flying Sword

The familiar mechanical voice sounded in his mind once more as all of Sima Xiong's cultivation flowed into Wen Qingkong's body.

Wen Qingkong thought of Lu Ruokong's proud manner that morning, then looked at Sima Xiong lying on the cold bier now.

He had been an honest, guileless man. What a pity.

But Wen Qingkong would not seek justice for him. Even if he found Tong Haochu, leader of the Wuding Gang, and told him that Lu Ruokong had killed Sima Xiong, Tong Haochu would not believe him.

"At least I cleaned you up. In your next life, don't trust people so easily."

Wen Qingkong watched the Three Incense Sticks before Sima Xiong's head burn out. He covered Sima Xiong's entire body with a white cloth, then took a shovel from the side room and continued digging the tunnel beneath the cold bier.

The tunnel was nearly finished. After all, Sewing Corpse Chamber Number Eight was right beside Corpse Seamstress House Number Nine, separated only by a wall.

After working continuously for so many days, he finally saw hope today.

Crack!

The shovel broke through the final layer of floor tiles.

Wen Qingkong stretched out both hands and shoved with all his strength, pushing the cold bier in Sewing Corpse Chamber Number Eight aside.

Then Wen Qingkong crawled out of the tunnel.

The tunnel was complete, but the cold bier in Sewing Corpse Chamber Number Eight clearly still needed some modifications, leaving behind a concealed little door for entry and exit.

He got to work at once, and Wen Qingkong soon opened a small door beneath the cold bier that a person could pass through.

This cold bier was actually a rectangular wooden bed. Its front, back, left, and right sides were wooden boards two fingers thick, while the middle was hollow.

Once draped with a layer of white cloth that hung to the ground, it became a cold bier for placing corpses.

After finishing, Wen Qingkong returned to his own Corpse Seamstress House Number Nine through the tunnel.

He did not return to the second floor. This world was strange and unpredictable; whenever there was a corpse present, he was accustomed to resting on the first floor, so he could immediately deal with any sudden changes in the corpse.

The night passed without incident. The next day, dawn had just begun to break.

A knock already sounded outside the door.

This time, however, the knocking had a distinct rhythm, unlike yesterday's loud banging.

Wen Qingkong opened the door and saw a woman in white. She had an oval face and fair, delicate skin. Her eyes were red, tears still lingering on her face, making her look utterly pitiful.

"Boy, is it done?"

The one speaking was Lu Ruokong. He had changed clothes today, wearing a pure white robe with a jade belt at his waist and an exquisite longsword hanging from it. His tone remained as arrogant as ever.

Wen Qingkong nodded faintly.

Lu Ruokong hurriedly supported the white-clad woman by the arm and reminded her, "Watch your step."

After stepping over the threshold, the woman in white saw that Sima Xiong's corpse had been restored to its former state. She immediately threw herself over him and burst into loud sobs.

Wen Qingkong noticed a flash of jealousy in Lu Ruokong's eyes and could not help shaking his head.

In Sima Xiong's life's flashback, his arms and toes had not been severed before his death.

This woman in white should be Tong Ling'er, the daughter of the Wuding Gang's leader.

Her feelings for Sima Xiong ran quite deep.

Only after a long while did Tong Ling'er stop crying. She said to the disciples outside, "Come and take Senior Brother back."

"Yes!"

Outside, disciples of the Wuding Gang carried in a coffin and carefully placed Senior Brother Sima Xiong inside.

Afterward, the group carried the coffin outside.

Tong Ling'er walked up to Wen Qingkong and gave him a slight bow. Her voice was gentle, though grief she could not conceal was mixed within it.

"Thank you, Master, for stitching up Senior Brother. Your skill is truly exceptional."

"You are too polite, Miss. I take payment to do the job, so naturally I will do it wholeheartedly."

Tong Ling'er nodded slightly and took her leave.

After Tong Ling'er left, Lu Ruokong tossed over a money pouch.

Wen Qingkong caught it, weighed it in his hand, and could not help frowning as he looked at Lu Ruokong.

Meeting Wen Qingkong's questioning gaze, Lu Ruokong sneered. "What? Ten taels of silver still isn't enough for you? It was only stitching, not some troublesome task."

He tapped his fingers against the scabbard, staring at Wen Qingkong with a half-smile.

Did a mere Corpse Seamstress dare put on airs before him?

It was not that he was trying to cheap out. He simply felt that stitching was not worth fifty taels of silver. Besides, this damned brat had restored Sima Xiong's corpse so well.

"You didn't say that yesterday, Young Master."

"Yesterday was yesterday. Today is today."

"People shouldn't be greedy."

A mocking smile hung at the corner of Lu Ruokong's eyes.

Wen Qingkong could not help laughing. He had not even planned to pursue the matter any further.

Some people truly brought trouble upon themselves.

No, this was called: Heaven-sent calamity may still be survived; self-inflicted evil cannot be survived.

"You are right, Young Master. Ten taels of silver is indeed enough."