Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

"The White Bone Tower? Isn't that over at the Ghost Market?"

Chen Mo picked up a piece of fish, his face remaining expressionless, but his mind was racing.

Did that evil spirit run past Willow Leaf Alley?

Or did it originally come from the Ghost Market?

Unfortunately, those four people had been dead for too long; their souls had dissipated, making it impossible to summon them back...

As he was thinking, Zheng Changkong returned from asking questions at the next table, his face even darker than before.

"We've found out. The police from the West District Police Station said the deceased was a martial artist in his forties who went to the Ghost Market last night and was found dead at the foot of the White Bone Tower this morning."

Zheng Changkong sat down, picked up his teacup and took a sip. "I heard that the Ghost Market hasn't been open since the incident a while ago. I wonder what that person was doing there."

"Something happened at the ghost market? What happened?"

Chen Mo paused with his chopsticks and turned his gaze to him.

It's only been a short time since I last went there, what could possibly happen at the ghost market?

Zheng Changkong put down his teacup, his brows furrowed. "I don't know the specifics. The people at that table had only heard about it. They said that about half a month ago, something happened at night at the Ghost Market, and someone died. Since then, it has been closed and hasn't reopened."

"Someone died?" Wu Gan took the cigarette off his ear and held it in his hand. "Who died?"

"They didn't say, they just said that the ghost market closed down after that. The vendors didn't dare to go there, the buyers didn't dare to go there either, and even the beggars who used to hang around there all ran away."

Zheng Changkong thought for a few seconds before continuing, "How about this, Wu Gan and I will go to the West District later, and you guys continue searching around here."

Wu Gan paused, nearly dropping his cigarette. "To the West District? The White Bone Tower area?"

"Otherwise what?" Zheng Changkong looked down at him. "You don't want to go?"

"I want to, I want to..." Wu Gan chuckled dryly, tucking the cigarette behind his ear. "The captain has spoken, how can I say no?"

Zheng Changkong ignored him and looked at Chen Mo: "The three of you should walk around Willow Leaf Alley again and ask if anyone has seen where the four deceased went before they died."

"Especially those houses deep in the alley, no one answered when we knocked on their doors this morning, we'll go again this afternoon."

--------

In a courtyard not far from the ghost market, the branches of an old elm tree stretched out horizontally, completely blocking out the midday sun.

The courtyard was cool and shady, with moss growing in the corners of the walls and clumps of wild grass sprouting from the cracks in the stone slabs, looking like it hadn't been tended to for a long time.

At this time of year, the cicadas, which should be noisy, have long since fallen silent, leaving only the rustling of the wind through the elm leaves.

The door to the main room was ajar, and sounds could be heard coming from inside.

"Hu San, you dare come here again?"

The speaker was a thin old man, sitting next to an eight-immortal table, holding a purple clay teapot in his hand.

He was wearing a drab gray short jacket, his face was covered in wrinkles, and he looked no different from an ordinary old hoodlum who set up a street stall.

But if Chen Mo were here, he would recognize at a glance that this old man was the one who sold him the Crimson Sun Blood Crystal in the Ghost Market.

Hu San stood at the door, not daring to go in, and chuckled twice: "Uncle Ge, what are you saying? I've come to deliver a message to you."

"Sending a message?" The old man looked up, his cloudy eyes fixed on him. "Sending what message? Is there some movement from Tingyu Tower again?"

Hu San shrank back inside, lowering his voice, "That old bastard went out again last night."

The old man's hand holding the purple clay teapot paused slightly.

"How many did you kill?"

"I heard there are five." Hu San held up one finger. "Over at the White Bone Tower, the one who died was a martial artist. Adding the four from Willow Leaf Alley, that makes five."

The old man didn't speak, but brought the spout of the teapot to his lips and took a sip of tea.

Hu San's eyes darted around, and he leaned forward again: "Uncle Ge, our deal is done."

"Um?"

"That old bastard failed his molting tribulation and goes insane every few days."

He spoke in a low voice, but couldn't suppress the smugness in his words, "Half-human, half-cicada, without any mind, just instinctively looking for those who have received his Yin Cicada molt."

The old man put down the purple clay teapot, his lips twitching into a forced, insincere smile.

"He practiced evil arts and turned himself into something neither human nor ghost, what business is it of ours?"

Hu San chuckled twice: "Right, right, it has nothing to do with us. He got his comeuppance because of his evil intentions."

The wind outside rustled through the elm leaves.

Hu San glanced out the window and lowered his voice even further: "Uncle Ge, I'm here today to give you a heads-up. Those four people that monster killed in Willow Leaf Lane last night are probably not simple, are they?"

The old man raised his eyelids to look at him.

Hu San continued, "I've found out that those four seem to be compradors from the Japanese concession. It seems the police have already come to their attention."

The old man tapped his fingers lightly on the table.

"The Inspection Bureau?"

"Yes." Hu San nodded. "This morning I passed by the West District and saw two men in plainclothes loitering around the White Bone Tower. Their eyes told me they weren't ordinary patrol officers."

"They're probably informants from the Bureau of Investigation."

The old man was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed.

"OK."

"Very good."

Hu San was taken aback: "Okay?"

"What's wrong with it?" The old man picked up the purple clay teapot, took another sip, and said, "If the inspection bureau gets involved, they can get rid of that thing."

He put the pot down, his cloudy eyes fixed on Hu San. "What does this have to do with us?"

He put the pot down, his cloudy eyes fixed on Hu San. "What does this have to do with us?"

Hu San was stunned for a moment, then immediately understood and his face lit up with a smile. "Right, right, right! What does this have to do with us? We're just two ordinary people watching the show."

"That monster went mad from practicing its martial arts incorrectly, and it killed people on its own. The government is eliminating it to rid the people of a scourge!"

The old man's lips twitched slightly, but he didn't say anything.

Hu San was laughing for a while, then suddenly remembered something, and his smile faded considerably: "But Uncle Ge, there's something you need to know."

"Um?"

"Behind that old codger is the Xuan Yin Sect."

The old man's hand, which was holding the purple clay teapot, paused.

"The reason why Tingyulou has been able to gain a foothold in Tianjin all these years is because Xuanyinmen is supporting it. That old codger is over 120 years old and still very active. The Yin Chan Tui Life Technique he practices is said to be an evil skill passed down from Xuanyinmen."

Hu San glanced cautiously at the old man. "This time, we've essentially taken care of the Xuan Yin Sect. Although that old bastard died because of his own cultivation, if the Xuan Yin Sect investigates..."

The room fell silent for a moment.

The wind outside stopped, and the elm leaves remained motionless.

The old man remained silent for a long time before slowly speaking: "When did the Xuan Yin Sect members come to Tianjin?"

"No, that's not true." Hu San shook his head. "The people inside that gate are said to operate outside the pass and rarely enter. Tingyu Tower just sends tribute there every year, so it's just a nominal position."

The old man nodded and placed the purple clay teapot on the table.

"That's fine then," he said. "What happens outside the pass is none of our business inside. Once we get rid of that monster, this matter will be over."

"If the Xuan Yin Sect wants to investigate, they'll find out it was the Investigation Bureau that did it. If they're so capable, let them go and settle accounts with the Investigation Bureau."

Hu San chuckled twice and gave a thumbs up: "Uncle Ge is brilliant."

The old man ignored him, simply leaning back in his chair and squinting his eyes.

Hu San stood there for a while longer. Seeing that the old man had no intention of keeping him, he awkwardly cupped his hands in greeting and quietly slipped out.

The courtyard was quiet.

The shadow of the old elm tree fell on the ground, mottled and fragmented, like pieces of something.

The old man sat at the octagonal table, his eyes closed, motionless.

Only his fingers were still tapping lightly on the table...