Becoming a martial arts god starting from the mortician.

The clerk took the waist tag engraved with the character "丙" and squinted as he checked it. After confirming that it was correct, he rummaged under the counter and pulled out a few more items, arranged them neatly, and pushed them in front of Shen Qi.

"A copy of the internal and external training methods of 'Tiger Subduing Fist,' two bottles of blood-replenishing pills, a set of gray uniform, and a salary of ten taels of silver," the clerk continued. "Keep these safe. As a Class C martial artist, you can use your waist token to purchase the medicinal herbs needed for martial arts training from the pharmacy. Without this token, no matter how much silver you have, you won't be able to get the medicine."

After collecting their belongings, the two left the courtyard.

"You've already mastered the first three forms of the Tiger-Taming Fist, so you have a solid foundation," Zhou Wenyuan instructed as they walked. "But the last six forms require the aid of herbal medicine and blood-replenishing pills. Forcing yourself to practice them will only damage your muscles, bones, and meridians. Take the blood-replenishing pills to nourish yourself first, and once you've cultivated true qi and blood, you can return to the Observatory to choose a better technique."

"I understand," Shen Qi replied respectfully, bowing his head.

……

The wheels rolled over the smooth bluestone slabs of the inner city, heading towards the southern district of the outer city.

The air of nobility with its upturned eaves, carved beams, and painted rafters was quickly forgotten. The streets visibly became cramped and chaotic.

As the carriage turned into a slightly wider alley, Shen Qi peeked out through the gap in the curtain and saw several shirtless burly men squatting at the street corner, smoking pipes. Blood was still dripping from their feet, and the short knives they carried hadn't even been wiped clean of blood.

When the leader looked up and saw the patterns of the Astronomical Bureau on the carriage shaft, the fat on his face trembled violently, and he dropped his pipe in fright. He kicked one of his henchmen in the backside, and the group of thugs scrambled and scrambled into the dark alley.

……

The carriage slowly came to a stop.

Shen Qi jumped out of the car and looked around.

The mortuary occupied almost half the street, with gray walls and black tiles, creating a gloomy and oppressive atmosphere. The door was wide open, and every now and then, carts carrying bodies covered with white sheets would be pushed in, while empty carts would be pushed out.

How many warriors and refugees die every day in this outer city?!

As Shen Qi was pondering this, a middle-aged man in a black robe, with a large belly and covered in sweat, rushed out of the main gate.

He smiled from afar, jogged to the carriage, lowered his knees, clasped his hands together, and bowed deeply.

"Lord Zhou! You flatter me. If there's anything I need, just send a servant. I wouldn't dare trouble you!" Steward Zhao bowed and scraped.

"It's just on the way." Zhou Wenyuan pointed to Shen Qi beside him. "His name is Shen Qi. He's already registered with the Observatory. This kid is determined to work as a corpse handler. From today onwards, he'll be working under you."

Manager Zhao was taken aback.

If the Bureau of Astronomy is nominally in charge, doesn't that mean they're martial artists? Martial artists coming to handle corpses?

But he was no ordinary person, having risen to the position of manager in the outer city. He immediately switched to a warm smile, bowing repeatedly to Shen Qi: "Oh! Brother Shen, you're wasting your talents here! In the future, if you need anything in the mortuary, just tell your elder brother, and nothing will be impossible!"

Zhou Wenyuan didn't linger. He glanced at Shen Qi and said only, "Stay put and make sure your martial arts don't fall behind."

Having said that, the curtain was lifted, and the carriage drove away smoothly.

Shen Qi watched the carriage turn the corner and disappear from sight before slowly turning around.

Although his backer has left, the residual influence he left behind is enough for him to gain a foothold in this place.

Manager Zhao was indeed very attentive, personally leading the way.

"Brother Shen, this place is filthy, please don't mind, let me show you around first."

Without the high-ranking official from the Observatory, Steward Zhao straightened his back a bit more and walked more casually, but he remained polite.

Upon entering the gate, a long, secluded bluestone corridor comes into view.

The mortuaries, with their doors wide open on both sides, stood side by side. Each room contained three or four stone beds, and servants dressed in coarse linen clothes carried basins of blood and needles for sewing corpses, bustling about with their feet barely touching the ground.

"Things are really chaotic outside lately. There are a lot of refugees outside the city, and the gangs in the city are fighting every day." Manager Zhao complained as he walked. "Every day, at least eighty or a hundred corpses are delivered. No matter how fast the men under me are, they can't keep up."

Manager Zhao stopped in front of an empty room and turned to explain the rules to Shen Qi.

"Our rule here is that each person is limited to handling five corpses per day. For each corpse exceeding five, the accounting department will give you an extra two hundred coins. Of course, if there's no work, you can do whatever you want." Manager Zhao rubbed his hands together. "There's a clean, secluded place in the backyard; I'll take you there to see it after work. We get two days off every ten days. What do you think, Brother Shen?"

"That's good." Shen Qi nodded.

Seeing that he agreed readily, Manager Zhao casually asked, "I wonder if Brother Shen has ever been involved in this trade before? If you're a novice, that's fine. I'll find a skilled veteran to train you for a few days. The sewing and mending work isn't difficult, it's just... a bit messy."

"Brother Zhao, no need to trouble yourself." Shen Qi looked at the stone bed in the room, his tone slightly sentimental. "It's a family heirloom skill. I grew up in the mortuary, and I've been in this business for eight years now."

Steward Zhao's eyes lit up. He had originally thought the young master sent by the Observatory was someone who couldn't handle dirty work and would have to be treated like royalty. Who would have thought he was such a veteran! This was truly a lifesaver!

"Oh my! That's great!" Manager Zhao slapped his thigh. "Since you're an expert, let's not talk like laymen. We're really short-staffed these days, so I'll arrange a spacious place for you right away!"

Manager Zhao led Shen Qi to the end of the corridor and pushed open the door to a separate mortuary with a small window.

The room wasn't big, but it was fairly clean. There was a stone bed against the wall, and a vent above the room let in some air, so it wasn't too stuffy.

"This room is in a secluded spot, well-ventilated, and usually quiet. Brother Shen, you'll be here!" After saying this, Manager Zhao turned and shouted into the corridor outside, "Someone! Bring over a fresh cell!"

Before long, two sweaty servants pushed in a wooden cart.

A burly man lay sprawled on the bus, covered in blood, with a gaping hole the size of a bowl in his chest, half of his intestines spilling out—a gruesome sight.

"Just carried him back from East Street. He got stabbed through while fighting for territory." Manager Zhao said, looking at the corpse with disgust. "Brother Shen, go ahead with your work. Older brother, go ahead and oversee the dispatching. Let me know if you need anything!"

The servants quickly moved the body onto the stone bed and followed Steward Zhao out.

The footsteps faded into the distance along the corridor.

The control room fell silent.

According to the old rules of the trade, the dead clear the way and the door is not closed.

Fortunately, this is the innermost room, and no one usually goes here.

Shen Qi put down the gray cloth bundle, walked to the stone bed, and picked up the sewing needle.

Then he looked up at the top of the corpse's head.

A wisp of dark red life force was suspended in mid-air, slowly drifting away.

Although not nearly as bright and thick as Wang Laosan's, there was no doubt that these were the life threads of a martial artist. Moreover, this person had only recently died, yet the life threads remained solid.

Shen Qi's lips curled slightly as he slowly extended his right hand.