Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

The sky gradually darkened.

The sounds of tram tracks on the street gradually subsided, the wonton stalls closed their lights one by one, and occasionally a few stray dogs ran by, leaving a trail of paw prints on the bluestone slabs.

In the distance, the police station's whistle sounded—three short whistles followed by one long one—I wondered which house had been broken into again.

After the night watchman struck the second watch, Chen Mo slowly finished his practice and threw the completely destroyed Crimson Flame Blood Crystal in his palm into the trash can in the corner.

The progress of the "Yin Sha Bone Tempering Method" has increased significantly, and it is now close to the completion of the second level.

Unfortunately, he has exhausted all his resources and will have to go to the ghost market again.

After packing his things, Chen Mo got up, opened the window, and quietly climbed out, landing in the shadows of the alley.

The door to the pharmacy was ajar, and a dim, yellowish electric light shone from inside.

He pushed open the door and went in, and a strong smell of cheap tobacco hit him.

Scarface was sitting in that worn-out armchair. As soon as he saw him, he stood up and put on a smile: "Sir, you've come."

There were three or four other people inside, all Scarface's men, squatting in a corner smoking cigarettes.

There was a person lying on the ground, tightly bound with hemp rope, with a rag stuffed in his mouth. It was the shopkeeper, Old Liu.

"He tried to run away," Scarface said bitterly. "This afternoon, when we weren't looking, he sneaked into the backyard. Luckily, I was on my guard and had someone keep an eye on him."

Chen Mo glanced down at Lao Liu.

Old Liu was also looking at him, his eyes filled with fear and resentment, whimpering and twisting his body on the ground, making cigarette butts and scraps of paper fly up.

"It's tied up quite securely," Chen Mo said casually.

"Of course, tie him up like a pig, he won't be able to break free." Scarface smiled ingratiatingly. "Are you taking Old Liu away?"

"Um."

Chen Mo nodded, summoned two ordinary paper figures, and carried Old Liu on his back, one in front and one behind.

"Liu Tou, may you rest in peace!"

Before he even reached the gate, the sharp-tongued fellow started crying.

The crying echoed through the dental clinic, sounding somewhat jarring.

Chen Mo stopped and looked back.

The sharp-nosed guy lay down where Old Liu had just been lying, his face buried in his arms, his shoulders shrugging.

The crying sounded quite lively, but upon closer inspection, something felt off.

It's all thunder and no rain; I've been howling for ages, but not a single tear has fallen.

He peeked through his fingers and met Chen Mo's eyes, then quickly buried his face in his hands and howled even louder.

"Liu Tou! How am I supposed to live without you! We've been together for so many years..."

Chen Mo frowned, feeling somewhat disgusted.

"Since you can't bear to part with him, let's go with Lao Liu."

Scarface was stunned and didn't react.

Chen Mo pointed at the pointy-mouthed waiter: "Tie him up too."

The person's crying stopped abruptly, as if someone had grabbed their neck.

He suddenly raised his head, his face was clean, without a single tear.

"Sir! Sir! I'm just expressing my true feelings! I can't bear to part with Liu Tou..." He got up and tried to move closer to Chen Mo, but was held down by Scarface's men.

The sharp-mouthed waiter opened his mouth as if to say something, but a rag was already stuffed into his mouth.

Chen Mo waved his hand again, and two paper figures floated out of his pocket, landed, and transformed into human form, carrying the person on their shoulders, one in front and one behind.

"Mr. Chen," Scarface leaned closer and asked cautiously, "where are you taking them?"

Chen Mo didn't answer, but just glanced at him.

Scarface wisely took a step back and stopped asking questions.

Only after the paper figure had completely disappeared behind the door did he let out a long breath, lean back in his armchair.

He reached up and touched the back of his neck; his hand was covered in sweat.

"Damn it," he cursed, trying to take out a cigarette, but his fingers trembled and he couldn't open the pack.

Only then did the few henchmen crouching in the corner dare to move.

A tall, thin man stood up, walked to the door, glanced outside, quickly closed the door, and bolted it shut.

"Scarface," the tall, thin man turned around and asked in a low voice, "what exactly does that guy do? This paper doll spell is really creepy."

Scarface glared at him: "Don't ask questions you shouldn't ask."

The tall, thin man shrank back and didn't dare to say a word.

Another burly man with a face full of scars approached and squatted down in front of Scarface. "Scarface, both of the quick-witted ones have been tied up. What are we going to do with this dental clinic?"

Scarface didn't say anything. He lit the cigarette after striking the match twice and took a deep drag.

"That idiot Rat," he cursed, puffing smoke from his nostrils. "He got involved, now look what happened."

The tall, thin man paused, then said, "A rat? Scarface, you mean Pointy-Beak? Isn't his name Little Shunzi?"

"Little Shunzi is his mother's nickname around here," Scarface sneered. "When he was hanging around the docks, his nickname was Rat. He did a lot of petty theft. Last year, he even helped a human trafficker kidnap a girl. Later, the girl's family came looking for him, so he came to hide here."

The men exchanged glances.

The tall, thin man glanced towards the doorway and asked in a low voice, "Scarface, where did that guy take Rat and Old Liu? To that No. 7 courtyard?"

Scarface paused for a moment while smoking.

He didn't speak, but just stared at the dim yellow light on the table, his eyes unmoving.

A moth landed on the lampshade, fluttering its wings and bumping against the glass.

"Do you think they can come back?"

. . . . . . .

Outside, Chen Mo led four paper figures out of the brokerage and turned into a secluded alley.

It was late at night, and there were few people on the street, except for the occasional whistle from the police station in the distance.

Four paper figures carried two people behind him, their footsteps so light they were almost silent. Old Liu and the sharp-mouthed waiter had rags stuffed in their mouths, so they could only make faint whimpering sounds.

The gate to courtyard number seven was ajar, just as it had been when he left during the day.

Chen Mo pushed open the door and went in. At this moment, the scenery in the courtyard was shrouded in a red veil of moonlight. The moss on the well in the corner had dried up to the point that the gray-white stone underneath was exposed. The three charred marks were still there, but they were not very clear in the moonlight.

He had the paper figure put Old Liu down, placing him right next to the well.

Old Liu trembled all over, his eyes fixed on the well, and he cried out even more urgently.

He tried to shrink back, but his hands and feet were tightly bound, and he couldn't move an inch.

Chen Mo ignored him, walked to the other end of the courtyard, and sat down on the stone steps.

Four paper figures stood motionless behind him, their hands hanging down.

The sharp-nosed fellow was thrown a little further from the well opening, and now he was desperately twisting his body, trying to move himself even further away.

The moonlight slowly moved across the courtyard.

Chen Mo closed his eyes, as if resting, but his ears were constantly listening to the sounds coming from the well.

Old Liu had stopped whimpering, probably because he was tired of it, and only heavy breathing remained.

child time.

The sound of the night watchman's clapper drifted from afar, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, carried far on the night wind.

Chen Mo opened his eyes.

The moonlight over the well suddenly dimmed for a moment, as if something had risen from the well and blocked the light.