Becoming a martial arts god starting from the mortician.

The night was deep, and the cold wind whipped up snowflakes that pelted my face.

The streets of the outer city were deathly silent, with every household's doors and windows tightly shut. A faint smell of blood lingered in the air.

Shen Qi walked across the icy bluestone slabs to the door of the mortuary. He gently pushed it, only to find the door firmly shut from the inside by a bolt as thick as an arm.

He raised his hand to knock on the door, and hurried footsteps immediately sounded from inside. The door opened a crack, and Zhao Youtian, holding a windproof lantern, poked half of his round head out. Seeing that it was Shen Qi, he abruptly pulled the door open and dragged Shen Qi inside.

"Seventh Brother! You're finally back!" Zhao Youtian quickly bolted the door shut and lowered his voice, "What's going on outside? I've been hearing shouts of battle from the south for ages, and there's even movement coming from the inner city. Are you alright?"

Shen Qi brushed the snow off his shoulder and said calmly, "It's alright, the trouble is over."

Zhao Youtian let out a long breath and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. He looked Shen Qi up and down by the light of the lantern and found that although Shen Qi had bloodstains on his body, he was calm and composed.

"Alright, brother," Shen Qi interrupted him before he could finish speaking, "A lot of people died in the city today. I got a job from the Observatory. A batch of fallen brothers' bodies will be delivered by armored soldiers later. Call the servants and clear out the backyard."

Upon hearing that it was a task from the Observatory, Zhao Youtian mustered his spirits and said, "Don't worry, Seventh Brother, I won't let you down on any assignments from above!"

Half an hour later.

The heavy thud of wheel ruts echoed from the street corner. Several wooden carts were parked in front of the mortuary, with a dozen armored soldiers standing silently beside them. Zhao Youtian led a few servants out to greet them.

"Move it inside, be careful," Shen Qi instructed from the steps. "Don't let it bounce."

……

Inside the morgue.

Shen Qi changed into a plain white linen robe. He brought over a basin of water mixed with strong liquor and atractylodes, washed his hands and face, and gently wiped the water from between his fingers with a dry cloth. Then he went to the corner of the wall, blew on the tinderbox, and lit the four eternal lamps that guided souls in turn.

The dim candlelight flickered, dispelling the chill in the room and adding a touch of solemnity.

After offering three incense sticks, he walked to the first mortuary bed.

He was a martial artist from the Celestial Surveillance Bureau. His chest had been pierced by a sharp weapon, the skin and flesh around the wound were torn open, and his internal organs were ruptured.

Shen Qi picked up the scissors and cut open the blood-soaked clothes. He wrung out the wet cloth and carefully wiped away the blood and dirt from the deceased's face.

After cleaning the wound, he threaded a needle. The mulberry bark thread moved between the skin and flesh, the stitches fine and even. Half an incense stick later, the gruesome wound was neatly stitched up. He took out a clean set of burial clothes, dressed the deceased in them, and straightened the collar.

Having done all this, Shen Qi straightened up. He reached out his right hand and snatched away the red life thread.

Shen Qi closed her eyes. Fragments of images flashed through her mind.

It was the dead of winter. The martial artist stood in the courtyard, his legs planted firmly on the ground, a wooden sword in his hand. With each swing, sweat soaked through his thin shirt.

"Sink your shoulders, drop your elbows, and let the power come from the ground!" came the coach's shout from the screen.

Shen Qi's muscles trembled slightly. He clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking, his body instinctively mastering the power generation techniques of this basic swordsmanship. At the same time, his qi and blood also strengthened.

He moved on to the next body.

This is a patrol soldier with half of his neck torn off.

Shen Qi skillfully used a fine needle to suture the blood vessels and flesh, and then applied ointment.

He reached out again. Crimson life threads entered his body.

The image of the spear thrusting like a dragon flashed through my mind. My arm muscles felt slightly warm.

Clean, sew, and tidy up clothing.

Touch, seize, assimilate.

Time passed. The candlelight flickered.

Shen Qi tirelessly repeated the movements. Each corpse represented a gift of martial arts experience and vital energy.

By the time he dealt with the twentieth body, he had removed his outer garments, leaving only a thin short-sleeved shirt. Sweat streamed down his forehead, splattering onto the blue bricks. The blood and qi within his body had converged into a surging torrent, rushing and crashing through the twelve meridians.

Long spear thrusts, grappling techniques, and vicious legwork.

The martial arts skills that more than thirty martial artists had painstakingly practiced before their deaths, like rivers flowing into the sea, were all integrated into Shen Qi's body.

As Shen Qi absorbed more and more life threads, his body temperature continued to rise.

He walked toward the last body.

The martial artist was extremely young, his hands covered in calluses, and his fatal wound was in his throat. Shen Qi wiped away the blood, closed his eyes, and pulled the bright crimson life thread from the top of his head.

boom.

The last lifeline entered the body, becoming the final torrent that pushed down the dam.

Several dazzling crimson rays suddenly emerged from Shen Qi's life force, like the rising sun.

"Crackling sound."

A series of popping sounds, like popping beans, came from inside my body. From the cervical spine to the coccyx, the bones were connected segment by segment.

His skin and flesh rose and fell slightly with his breathing, and the speed of his blood circulation was twice as fast as before. He clenched his fist casually, and his knuckles made a crisp sound like a bowstring snapping; with a casual wave of his hand, a low burst of air echoed in the air.

Qi and blood are fully developed!

The sky was just beginning to lighten. Morning light streamed through the window into the mortuary.

Shen Qi stood in the center of the room and took a deep breath. He walked to the basin and washed his hands and tools with clean water. He put on his coat and pushed open the door.

A cold wind swept across his face, yet he felt no chill whatsoever. Abundant blood and energy circulated within his body, keeping the cold at bay.

Zhao Youtian sat in the accounting room, his eyes dark-rimmed, facing the account books. Hearing footsteps, he looked up.

"Brother, here's the roster." Shen Qi placed a booklet on the table.

Zhao Youtian glanced at it, then looked up at Shen Qi, a hint of undisguised surprise flashing in his eyes. Shen Qi had stayed up all night, dealing with more than thirty gruesome corpses, yet he showed no signs of fatigue. On the contrary, his eyes shone with a restrained brilliance, and his whole being exuded an aura of profound composure.

Zhao Youtian swallowed hard, put away the roster, and said, "Seventh Brother, I'll take care of the rest. You've been working hard all night, so go back to your quarters and rest."

Shen Qi nodded and turned to walk towards the backyard.

He pushed open the wooden gate of the secluded courtyard, where a thin layer of snow had accumulated. He walked to the well, broke the thin ice, and poured a bucket of water directly onto his face. The icy well water stung his skin, making his mind even clearer.

He wiped his face dry, took off his blood-stained clothes, and threw them into the wooden basin.

He had just walked to the bedside and was about to lie down.

"Bang."

The courtyard gate was pushed open forcefully.

Shen Qi paused, then turned to look.

Zhao Youtian rushed in, panting, followed by a messenger guard in a black uniform from the Observatory.

The guard strode into the courtyard, a long sword at his waist, his eyes sharp. He walked up to Shen Qi and expressionlessly handed him a black iron token.

"Shen Qi, listen to my command." The guard's voice was cold and hard.

Shen Qi straightened up and accepted the token with both hands.

"The Master has ordered you to accompany me to the Inner City Observatory immediately." The guard's gaze swept over Shen Qi. "No mistakes are permitted."