Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

West of Tianjin city, a mass grave.

Chen Mo stood on the wasteland leading to the outskirts of the ghost market, watching the sky gradually darken.

This place is called a mass burial ground, but it's no longer used for burying new people.

It had been abandoned for too long, and the weeds grew taller than a person. The old graves, scattered here and there, were crooked and twisted, some of them half-collapsed, revealing dark holes.

A few crows perched on a crooked tree, cawing every now and then, their calls sending chills down one's spine.

Walk another two miles, past that cypress grove, and you'll find yourself in a completely different world.

The Tianjin Ghost Market is open every five days.

The market opens at sunset and closes at sunrise.

They sell everything, and you can buy anything, it just depends on whether you bring enough money and whether you have enough guts.

Chen Mo touched the silver notes in his pocket and walked towards the cypress grove.

He had walked a few steps when he suddenly stopped.

Then I saw a person squatting in the bushes ahead.

The man had his back to him, squatting in front of an old grave that had collapsed halfway, doing something unknown.

It was too dark to see what clothes he was wearing; all I could see was a dark, human-shaped silhouette.

Chen Mo stopped and quietly reached into his pocket to pinch a few paper figures.

Just then, the person seemed to hear footsteps and slowly turned around.

A thin, middle-aged man with a mustache smiled at him.

"It's Brother Chen, what a coincidence."

Chen Mo raised an eyebrow when he saw the face clearly.

It turns out to be Hu San from Tingyu Tower. What is this person doing here?

The person I met on my first visit to the Ghost Market, the one who spent ten thousand silver dollars to buy his broken jade.

When he later went to see the owner of Tingyu Tower, he didn't cover his face, so it's normal that the other party recognized him now.

"So it's Brother Hu." Chen Mo released his grip on the paper figure, a slight smile appearing on his face. "What a coincidence."

"What a coincidence." Hu San stood up and brushed the dirt off his knees. "I came to pay respects to an old friend, and I didn't expect to run into you. What's up, here at the market again today?"

Chen Mo glanced at the half-collapsed grave, then at Hu San.

The grave of my old friend has collapsed like this, and you don't even bother to repair it?

But he didn't ask, and the two weren't very familiar with each other.

"Yes, it's market day, I just wanted to see if there's anything good."

Hu San nodded and walked over with a smile: "Did you use the Yin Cicada Shell that the landlord gave you last time? That's a good thing."

Chen Mo's heart skipped a beat.

The molted skin of a cicada.

He kept that thing and never touched it.

I can't quite explain why, but I'm just a little uneasy.

In his past life, he had seen too many knives hidden behind smiles. Those who were kind to him for no reason usually had ulterior motives.

He firmly believes in the saying, "There is no such thing as a free lunch."

The owner of Tingyu Tower was not related to him at all, so it didn't seem right for him to give such an expensive gift on their first meeting.

Even if the other party is very generous, they wouldn't be this generous.

Every gift comes with a hidden price tag.

The price, however, has not yet been revealed.

Now that the other party asked this question, he felt even more strange. When you give someone a gift, why would you ask if it's still useful after so long?

"Not yet," he said. "I haven't found the right opportunity yet."

"Oh?" Hu San seemed a little surprised, but his smile remained unchanged. "That stuff is a good thing. After absorbing it, it can nourish the soul and prolong life. If Brother Chen doesn't know how to use it, I can teach you."

"Thank you for your kindness, Brother Hu." Chen Mo smiled and cupped his hands in greeting. "I will definitely seek your guidance later."

The two talked as they walked together toward the cypress grove.

After walking a few steps, Hu San suddenly asked, "Brother Chen, what are you here to buy today?"

Chen Mo thought for a moment and then didn't hide anything: "I'd like to see if there's any suitable yin paper, or yin-type animal bones."

"Yin paper and Yin bone mother..." Hu San pondered for a moment, "There are a few places in the ghost market that specialize in selling these, but not many. You have to go to the old stalls at the very back."

Chen Mo nodded and kept it in mind.

The two walked for a while longer, and the cypress grove gradually came into view.

The forest was pitch black, without a single ray of light. Beyond the forest lay the ghost market.

Hu San suddenly stopped.

"Brother Chen, I have some things to attend to, so I won't accompany you inside. Come visit Tingyu Tower when you have time."

Chen Mo breathed a sigh of relief, but his face showed regret: "Brother Hu, you're not going? That's a real pity. I was hoping you could help me make an assessment."

"Next time, next time." Hu San waved his hand and turned to walk down a side path.

After taking a few steps, he suddenly turned back.

"By the way, Brother Chen, it's best to use that piece of cicada molting as soon as possible; the longer it's left, the weaker its medicinal effect will be."

After saying that, he smiled and disappeared into the bushes.

Chen Mo stood there, looking at the patch of grass, his brows furrowed slightly.

Will the medicine become less effective if it's stored for a long time?

He felt there was something behind those words, but couldn't quite put his finger on it. He shook his head and turned to walk towards the cypress grove.

On the other end.

Hu San took a long detour, passing through the east side of the mass grave. After wandering around for half an hour, he finally stopped in front of a two-story pavilion.

Listening to the Rain Pavilion.

Having followed the host for the past few years, he has seen too many things he shouldn't have seen. Every time he has a private audience with the host, it feels like walking on a knife's edge.

"Come in."

The voice came from inside the door, still gentle, without any discernible emotion.

Hu San pushed open the door, lowered his head and walked in, then closed the door behind him.

Tonight, an incense burner is lit in the room, its smoke curling upwards with a strange, indescribable smell.

It's not the usual sandalwood or agarwood, but rather a faint scent of decaying wood.

Hu San had been smelling it for three years and was used to it, but every time he entered the door, the smell would still make his stomach churn.

"What is it?"

The original poster's voice came from behind the low table.

Hu San stood with his head bowed, his eyes lowered to the ground, not daring to look up.

"Reporting to the Lord, I just ran into Chen Xuanli's grandson, but he hasn't used the gifts we gave him yet."

He said he hadn't found a suitable opportunity.

The quiet room fell silent for a moment.

"Useless?" The original poster's voice carried a hint of amusement. "This kid is rather cautious."

Hu San lowered his head, and sweat was already beading on his back.

He had been by the landlord's side for three years and knew his temperament all too well; the more nonchalant the tone, the deeper the hidden meaning.

"Master, shall I...?"

"No need."

The original poster waved his hand to interrupt him.

Immediately, Hu San heard a rustling sound, like the rubbing of clothes, or like something slowly wriggling.

He cautiously looked up and saw that the landlord was still sitting behind the low table, wearing that blue cloth robe, with a thin face and gentle eyes.

Her neckline was open, revealing a section of her neck.

There was a thin crack on her neck.

It wasn't a knife wound or a scar, but a real gash, like the old skin of a snake before shedding its skin, splitting in the middle to reveal the new skin and flesh underneath.

The new skin was light pink, wet, and covered in what looked like blood or some other kind of slime.

There is more than one crack.

These fine cracks are present on the neck, wrists, and any exposed area.

The edges of those cracks are slowly lifting up, as if something is exerting force underneath, trying to break free from the constraints of this old skin.

But what terrified Hu San the most was what was faintly visible beneath the cracks.

It's not skin or flesh.

It's scales.

The fine, dense scales, shimmering with a dark blue luster, layer upon layer, were slowly undulating, like newly sprouted life, not yet accustomed to being exposed to the air.

Hu San's knees buckled, and he almost knelt down.