Death

Chapter 293: Death

“Aaaaaaah!!!” The Zuowandao knelt on the ground, trembling as he covered his skinless face with his hands, letting out a piercing scream.

The scream wasn’t just from the pain—it was from the realization that he had been outsmarted.

With the wet, slithering sound of mucus sliding across skin, the writhing tentacles of the Black Tai Sui, wrapped around a face-skin still bearing eyeballs, slowly retracted back into Li Huowang’s mouth.

“Gulp.” Li Huowang forced down the rancid, sticky mass in his throat.

He watched the Zuowandao struggle to his feet, then stagger backwards. Li Huowang reached behind him and pulled—the copper coin sword materialized in his hand instantly.

“Shwik!” As Li Huowang’s body lost balance from the swing and crashed to the ground, the Zuowandao—now studded with over a dozen copper coins embedded in his body—collapsed as well.

A strange smile lingered on the dying man’s face. “You really are something else, Red Center.. The Grand Slam’s not bad. Not bad at all.”

Lying flat on his back, Li Huowang stared silently at the sky, feeling the searing pain radiating through his body. “I can’t believe… I’m going down here… How pathetic.”

He saw Gao Zhijian in the distance, his body covered in climbing clay figures, and the Great Deity trying to make its way toward him. With great effort, Li Huowang rolled onto his side.

“…It’d be such a waste not to use this pain, wouldn’t it?”

He tried several times and failed, but on the last attempt, he finally forced his hand into his own abdominal cavity. “RIPPING FLESH AND PULLING BONE!”

The sounds of crashing and fighting around him vanished, replaced by a continuous chorus of screams and wails.

Everything in Gan Yuan Village—the beings hiding inside clay figures, the villagers, even the dogs—all felt the same agony at that moment.

The clay figures could bear it no longer. They trembled and burrowed frantically into the earth to escape. The crisis that had pressed in on them moments ago was dissolved in an instant by Li Huowang.

Sensing their retreat, Li Huowang let his hand fall loose. His consciousness began to drift.

“Li Huowang!”

Through the haze, he reflexively lifted his head. “Who… I’m here.”

The last thing he saw was Bai Lingmiao rushing toward him. “I can’t die… I can’t die…”

His head lolled to the side. Consciousness sank into darkness.

At the fifth watch, hearing the roosters crow outside, a stubbly Gouwa carried a chamber pot out of the room. His face was pale, and the white cloth at his collar showed he, too, was injured.

He was on chamber pot duty despite his own wounds because Gao Zhijian was in far worse shape. Those clay figures had nearly torn his arms off.

After dumping the pot at the latrine, Gouwa hunched his shoulders and yawned as he headed back.

Passing by Room Tian-2, he pulled open the window shutter and cautiously peered inside.

Seeing Li Huowang lying on the bed with a deathly pallor, no sign of waking, Gouwa shook his head helplessly.

Back in his own room, he’d barely slid the chamber pot under the bed when Gao Zhijian’s thunderous snoring stopped. “Wha… wha… wha…”

“Nothing. Still the same. Scoot over, I want another round of shut-eye.”

Gouwa climbed back onto the bed and tucked his bony body under the covers. “Man, this time Li-shixiong probably isn’t gonna pull through. It’s time to split the pot. Hey, dummy, how much do you think I’ll get out of the gold box?”

Hearing the dissatisfied stirring beside him, Gouwa continued, “I’m not cursing him. You saw it yourself. His guts were practically scooped out this time. That spirit-dancer’s good, but she’s no real immortal, right? She can’t just grow new flesh and bone.”

“Thump!” Gouwa was shoved off the bed.

“Hey! What’s your problem!” Gouwa grumbled as he got up. The shove had killed his drowsiness, so he picked up the bronze basin from the wooden rack and headed to the back courtyard to draw water from the well.

After washing up, he stepped out onto the street and sat down at a small roadside stall. “Boss, a bowl of sweet tofu pudding and two fried crullers.”

“Coming right up! Just a moment!”

The steaming tofu pudding was sprinkled with a light dusting of sesame seeds and red sugar. Gouwa’s hungry stomach growled at the sight.

He picked up a cruller with his chopsticks, dipped it into the pudding until it softened, then shoved it into his mouth. The sweet, oily fragrance filled his senses. It was pure comfort.

“The Great Liang’s really different. Folks here don’t have to be in the field to eat breakfast, and there’s so many choices.”

When Gouwa finished his satisfying meal, more people had started filling the streets.

He ran his tongue meticulously over the bowl until it was clean, then stood up. Pulling a dozen or so copper coins from his waist pouch, he tossed them onto the table.

“Oh! So generous! Thank you, master!”

“Who tipped you? Same order, three portions, delivered to the inn on the second floor. Don’t skimp on the portions. I’ll be watching.”

With that, Gouwa turned and melted into the crowd. By now, he knew this town like the back of his hand.

After wandering around for a while, he finally stopped in front of a secluded coffin shop.

He spat into his palm, slicked down his sideburns, and stepped inside.

The man inside, who had been clicking an abacus, immediately broke into a pained, helpless smile when he saw Gouwa’s sharp, weaselly face.

“Master Cao, you’re back? Please, come in.”

“What’s it to you? After thinking about it all night, you think we could knock a bit more off the price?” Gouwa gave a nearby large coffin a practiced slap.

“Master Cao, this is premium red pine! Oh, please don’t slap it. You come slap it every day, you’ll wear the paint right off.”

“Are you buying or not? Asking the price every day—you wouldn’t be thinking of going into this business yourself, would you?”

“Hmph.” Gouwa sniffed disdainfully. “I’m serious. Shave off another half tael. Half a tael less, and I’ll put down the deposit today.”

The coffin shop owner’s heart skipped a beat. He softened his tone and asked cautiously, “Is… our Li-shixiong close?”

Seeing Gouwa close his eyes and purse his lips in a nod, the shopkeeper steeled himself. “Fine! Half a tael it is! That’s the bottom line. No more negotiating.”

“No rush.” Gouwa circled the coffin slowly, inspecting it from every angle, then turned back to the man. “Shopkeeper, since you’re knocking off half a tael, how about throwing in a burial shroud?”

An hour passed. The coffin shop owner, completely parched from arguing, finally agreed to Gouwa’s terms.

He really couldn’t drag it out any longer. If he did, Master Cao’s Li-shixiong might or might not be dead, but Master Cao himself would talk him to death first.

After paying the deposit, Gouwa asked again, “Shopkeeper, you’re familiar with the undertakers, right?”

The coffin shop owner nodded vigorously. “Don’t you worry. The catering chefs, the opera troupe, the Eight Immortals for carrying the coffin—I know them all.”

“I want top-tier stuff! I want a grand funeral! That man was my brother through life and death!”

“Sure, sure! I’ll make the introductions for you. We’ll make it beautiful, you can count on me.”

“Oh, and order a few extra paper maids from the paper effigy guy. Li-shixiong’s going down alone. I’m afraid he’ll get lonely.”

“Master Cao, you’re a true friend!”

“Yeah, well… What else can I do? When Li-shixiong dies, they’ll all be wailing and carrying on. They won’t handle anything. Someone’s got to do it. I did it last time, too.”

“And the time before that?”