Death God: Starting from Refining Essence into Qi

Rukongai West 40th Ward.

Gen and Saito stood on the street in the very center, with low bungalows on both sides, and only a few buildings had two stories.

Seven days had passed since the two left Seireitei.

For seven days, they traveled westward, finally arriving here in the afternoon. Saito enthusiastically recounted his observations from the previous districts—izakayas, hot springs, and the ronin dressed in neat clothes. Though not as grand as Seireitei, it was still respectable.

But once you get past District 35, the style changes.

The houses grew shorter, the streets narrower, and the road surface changed from stone slabs to gravel, then to dirt. By the time they reached the fortieth district, even people wearing shoes were a rarity. Most people went barefoot, their soles calloused from years of wear.

"The difference is too great," Saito muttered to himself, looking around. "Most of them are mud houses and thatched huts; even wooden houses are rare."

Xuan didn't reply. He only knew that even in the 78th Ward of Soul Society a thousand years later, the houses were mostly made of wood. He really didn't expect that most of the rogue souls in the 40th Ward could only live in thatched huts.

In Soul Society, ordinary rūn only needs to drink water to obtain enough spiritual particles to sustain their lives; while shinigami with spiritual power must eat enough food.

Moreover, even Death, as a spirit, gets tired and needs a place to rest temporarily to recover his strength.

"First, observe the surrounding environment and find a place to stay," Xuan decided.

Saito shrugged and followed behind him.

The two were not wearing shihaka (spirit armor), but rather loose robes that could conceal their zanpakuto (swords).

Unlike Seireitei, most people in Rukongai are ordinary spirits without spiritual power. If a Shinigami wearing a Shinigami uniform appears, he stands out like a crane among chickens.

There weren't many pedestrians on the road, and the wandering souls who passed by hurried along, with few wearing smiles.

Saito, on the other hand, was in high spirits, looking around as he went.

"I've only ever seen places like this in books before," she said, her tone not one of disgust but rather of curiosity. "My family always says that Rukongai is so chaotic and dirty, as if you'll be robbed if you step in."

She kicked a loose stone slab at her feet, making a "click" sound.

"It's not that exaggerated."

Xuan didn't reply. He stopped in front of the only izakaya in the West 40th District, across the street from a fairly clean hotel.

Xuan pushed open the door and entered the inn. A middle-aged woman looked up from behind the counter, her gaze quickly sweeping over him and Saito.

"Would you two like to stay overnight?" Her voice was a little tense.

"I'll be staying for a few days." Xuan didn't deny it, and took out a few coins and placed them on the counter. "Two rooms, the quieter ones."

The woman deftly pocketed the money, took two keys from under the counter and handed them over, then asked, "Would you like some food? The shop is simple, but we do have porridge and side dishes."

"Dinner can be delivered."

"Yes, yes."

Xuan took the keys and turned to go upstairs. Saito followed behind, and as he passed the counter, he grinned at the woman, making her shrink back in fright.

"Why are you scaring people?" Xuan sensed this scene but did not turn around.

"I was laughing!" Saito protested. "Did she guess who we are, that's why she called us 'adults'?"

"Your faint outline is visible through your clothes; she probably thinks we're Grim Reapers on a secret mission. If she really discovered our identities, she shouldn't have alerted her with her way of addressing us."

Saito said "Oh," seemingly finding it reasonable, and stopped thinking about it, taking a few steps past Gen to rush up to the second floor.

The inn was small, with only a few rooms on the second floor. Xuan quickly found the corresponding room based on the number on the key.

The two rooms were right next to each other. The wooden doors were old and blackened, revealing the wood core inside, which looked like it was about to rot. Fortunately, the two people's strength did not require the wooden doors to provide protection.

Xuan put down his luggage and sat cross-legged on the tatami mat.

Saito pushed open the door and came in, carrying a pot of tea.

"It was delivered downstairs; they said it was free." She placed the tea on the low table and plopped down next to it. "Don't you think she considers us some kind of important people?"

Xuan poured himself a cup of tea and took a sip. The tea was bitter with a burnt taste, but still palatable.

"The Grim Reaper is a big shot in Rukongai," he said. "Even if he weren't a Grim Reaper, anyone who could get their hands on an Asagi would be someone you couldn't afford to mess with."

Saito raised an eyebrow, as if he wanted to say something, but held back.

The two drank tea quietly for a while.

As dusk deepened outside the window, the sounds of people on the street gradually thinned out.

Xuan put down his teacup: "I wonder if the Seireitei has sent anyone to look for us. Several days have passed, but there has been no word from them."

With that in mind, Gen changed into his Shinigami uniform, hung his Zanpakuto at his waist, and then took out the Noh mask he had bought on the street a few days ago—it wasn't very well made, but it was good enough to serve as his face.

Saito leaned against the doorframe, looking at the mask and couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Are you going to perform in a play?"

"Stop fooling around." Gen put the mask on his face, then handed Saito another mask. His voice sounded muffled through the mask. "Let's go."

"Going?" Saito was taken aback. "Me too?"

"I just scouted the area. There are no nobles in the West 40th District, so the reason this area can remain stable must be because there are gangs or local tyrants managing the personnel and supplies." Xuan opened the window and glanced at the street. "I'll go negotiate with them. You keep watch outside and see if anyone tipes them off or sets up an ambush."

Saito clicked his tongue and said, "This mask is too ugly." But he still put it on.

The two left the inn one after the other and went into the izakaya across the street. The izakaya had a signboard hanging on the door, but the writing on it was already blurred and illegible.

As Xuan pushed open the door and entered, the noise inside abruptly ceased as if cut off by a single stroke.

A dozen or so men who were drinking turned around in unison to look at the Shinigami uniforms worn by Gen and Saito.

The bartender behind the counter immediately greeted them with a beaming smile: "Gentlemen! Please have a seat. What would you like to order?"

"We need to talk to the owner 'here' about something."

The bartender gave the waiter a wink, and the waiter scurried off to the back of the stairs leading to the second floor.

After the two entered, the izakaya became much quieter. Many gazes directed at the Zanpakuto were a mixture of greed, fear, and wariness, but no one dared to make a move. Several customers near the door sensed the sudden change in atmosphere but dared not push the door open to leave, fearing they would be mistaken for going to get help to steal the Zanpakuto and be beheaded on the spot.

Gen found a clean spot to sit down. Saito didn't sit down, but just stood to the side arrogantly patting the Zanpakuto at his waist.

Immediately, no one in the tavern dared to look at the two anymore, and everyone started drinking on their own.

Soon, the waiter came down the stairs, bowing and saying, "Boss, please come upstairs to the second floor for a detailed discussion."

Xuan nodded and followed the waiter upstairs.

There were several rooms on both sides of the second floor, and a door at the end of the corridor. The waiter knocked lightly three times, and a deep, hoarse voice came from inside: "Please come in."

The room was simply furnished with a low table, a few cushions, and a landscape painting hanging on the wall. Behind the table sat a man in his fifties with thick eyebrows and a cold, hard gaze. He wore a clean gray long robe, but deliberately revealed the belt buckle that secured his waist, which was inlaid with turquoise, a rare find in Rukongai.

"Please, gentlemen, have a seat." He gestured with his hand. "My name is Tiancun, and the neighbors affectionately call me Boss Tiancun. May I ask what brings you here?"

Xuan carefully confirmed that the other party was not wearing a katana, then sat cross-legged on the futon.

Xuan has no choice but to be cautious. Even if he is exceptionally strong and fearless in direct combat, he could still be ambushed by a close-range sword strike.

Death is not like the Hollow with its superhuman armor; a single blow from it will inevitably leave one severely wounded and on the verge of death. Adhering to the principle of always being cautious, one should try to avoid being caught off guard and suffer a fatal accident.

"Find a Shinigami named Gen Shihouin who wields an Asauchi," Gen said calmly. "Have you seen any other Shinigami recently?"

The disguise had to be complete. Only inquiring about Shihouin Gen without mentioning the other Shinigami served two purposes: first, to imply that Shihouin Gen was the only target, and second, to prevent others from associating him and Saito with the two they were inquiring about.

Tamura's eyes flickered slightly.

"Sir is..." he asked tentatively.

"I am ordered to search," Xuan replied briefly.

Tamura nodded: "Don't worry, sir, I'll have someone keep an eye on things. If there's any news, they'll report it to me."

Xuan stood up, took out a stack of coins from his pocket, and placed them on the table: "This is a reward for your help."

"No, no," Tamura declined with a smile, but his hand was already on the coin. "It is my duty to serve you, sir."

Xuan didn't look at him again, turned around and went downstairs.

Stepping out of the izakaya, Saito lowered his voice and said, "No one downstairs tipped us off; everyone stay put."

Xuan nodded, crossed the street, and headed towards the inn.

"You're quite the actor," Saito said with a hint of surprise. "I thought you really wanted to search for Gen Shihouin."

Gen pushed open the door of the inn: "Since the innkeeper can tell that we have Zanpakuto, we might as well pretend to be Shinigami who have come to search, but don't care too much about the mission—we're not even hiding our Zanpakuto properly."

He walked up the stairs, his voice coming from ahead: "So that outfit from before, and the fact that he was hiding a Zanpakuto, can all be reasonably explained. Since we're Shinigami who don't care about missions, it's understandable that we spend some money to hire locals to help us find people while we slack off in the inn."

Saito followed behind him and thoughtfully hummed in agreement.

"Furthermore," Gen stopped in the second-floor corridor and turned to look at her, "asking the izakaya owner about Shihouin Gen's whereabouts could also be a way to find out if anyone nearby is searching for us."

"Speaking of which, this is easy to expose, isn't it?" Saito raised an eyebrow.

"It's been so long, and we haven't noticed any trace of the Seireitei searching for us. That's not normal." Gen pushed open his door and went inside. "Logically speaking, there should be at least two groups of people searching for our whereabouts—the nobles behind me, and the nobles behind you."

Saito leaned against the doorframe: "So?"

"It's darkest under the lamp, so I might as well pretend to be one of them." Xuan put his baggage in the corner. "Maybe the other group will come to us to exchange information."

"Then we can turn the tables and find out information about them?" Saito's eyes lit up.

Xuan did not answer, but simply sat down on the tatami and closed his eyes to rest.

Saito clicked his tongue: "You've thought this through so thoroughly, it gives me a headache. Anyway, I'll just follow you. You take care of the thinking, and I'll take care of slacking off."

-----------------

For the next two days, the two took turns keeping an eye on the izakaya.

During the day, Saito would stand by the window of the inn and secretly monitor the izakaya across the street.

As night fell, the West 40th Ward was plunged into darkness. Not long after dark, the crowds of people drinking and chatting dispersed, and the izakayas closed their doors.

Xuan transformed into an owl, relying on the owl's night vision to monitor and keep watch. In the darkness, no one would notice an owl.

On the third day at dusk, Saito Kazugen met up with him at the inn.

"I saw it." She lowered her voice. "Someone delivered a letter. No other spiritual pressure was detected, but we can't rule out the possibility that someone is hiding their spiritual pressure and lurking nearby."

After a brief moment of thought, Xuan said, "I'll observe for another night. Once I'm sure there's no ambush, I'll go get the message first thing tomorrow morning."

After confirming that nothing was amiss, the two went out together in the early morning.

The izakaya had just opened, and the bartender was wiping glasses. Upon seeing Gen enter, the bartender immediately stopped what he was doing.

He held out a sealed letter respectfully, saying, "My lords, here is a letter for you."

Xuan took the letter. There was no signature on the envelope, but it bore the Shihouin family crest.

Back at the inn, Xuan opened the letter, took out the paper, and read it word by word.

"How is it?" Saito leaned closer.

"This is a letter from my elder brother. It doesn't mention the Saito family or you. To be honest, most noble families wouldn't bother spending so much manpower searching all over Rukongai for someone who voluntarily left their family; it's too difficult. As long as you don't show up near Seireitei, there shouldn't be any problems."

"Oh." Saito's tone was somewhat downcast upon hearing this, but he quickly regained his usual composure. "What did the letter say? The Shihouin family sent someone so quickly, but they only delivered a letter and left. I thought a fight was about to break out."

"As punishment, remove my surname and noble status. As long as you accept this outcome, I will not pursue the matter further. From now on, the Shihouin family and I will have no connection."

The letter also contained some words from the Thousand Days, but there was no need to tell Saito these.

Saito was taken aback when he heard about the punishment for Gen: "Isn't this just going with the flow? You had already left Shihōin."

Xuan didn't reply. He had indeed considered this aspect, and even thought about it more deeply—defining "removing his identity" as a punishment was to give the Kuchiki family an explanation. After all, the marriage agreement was made by the heads of the two families, and someone had to take responsibility for something like eloping.

The way to "take responsibility" was for Gen to betray the Shihouin family and no longer be a member of the five great noble families.

In this way, the Shihōin family could save face, and the Kuchiki family couldn't pursue the matter any further.

Xuan took out paper and pen and began to write a reply.

"Brother Qianri: "

I received the letter. I have enough money with me, and I will donate my share of the pencil profits to my family as a token of my apology.

I have made my decision not to go back. I had anticipated this punishment; after all, they are nobles who value their status, and stripping them of their noble status and surname is indeed a severe punishment.

As friends, shouldn't you allow us to exchange letters privately? If there are no problems, we can continue to communicate by letter in the future, just like we did at the Genji Academy.

玄」

After he finished writing, he put the letter into an envelope.

The post office in the West 40th district is located at the end of the main street, with a faded wooden sign hanging at the entrance that reads "Post Office".

There was only one old man in the room, dozing off on the counter. Hearing footsteps, he groggily raised his head and, seeing Xuan's shihaka attire, immediately woke up.

"Lord Death!" He jumped up in a fluster. "You want to mail a letter?"

Xuan handed over the envelope: "Deliver it to Seireitei. The address and recipient are written on it."

The old man took the letter, glanced at the clan crest on the envelope, and his hands trembled even more violently: "This, this..." The old man, who had spent his whole life delivering letters in Soul Society, naturally recognized which noble family's crest it was.

"Can you send it?"

"Yes, yes!" the old man hurriedly replied, "It's just... it might take a while... it will take at least five days to get from here to Seireitei..."

"It's alright, as long as it's delivered." Xuan took out a few change coins from the innkeeper's pocket and placed them on the counter.

Xuan turned and walked out of the post office.

Saito was waiting at the door, holding two skewers of dumplings, his mouth covered in sugar frosting.

"Is it done?" she asked vaguely.

"Hmm. You seem to be much more relaxed." Xuan took the string of dumplings she handed him, took a bite—it was so sweet it hurt his throat, and there was a mustard flavor that went straight to his head.

"Don't buy things like this again. The money I lent you isn't meant to be wasted like this."

"I've never tried it before, how would I know it tasted like this—cough cough, yum~"

"Besides, aren't I playing the role of a lazy Grim Reaper, just like you said? Having some snacks is part of the plan." Saito then asked, "Anything else?"

"Looks like everything's alright. No bunch of Grim Reapers suddenly appeared near the post office and pinned us down. Just in case, we can observe for a few more days," Xuan said. "From now on, my name will be Xuan; I won't have a surname."

Saito didn't give up the dumpling in his hand, and mumbled an "uh-huh": "Okay, Gen doesn't have a surname."

She swallowed the dumpling in her mouth, then swallowed hard again: "Speaking of which, I've been calling you Gen for a long time, so why do you always call me Saito?"

Xuan kept walking and said, "Because 'Saito' has two syllables, while 'immortal' has four syllables."

"...That's it?"

"Um."

Saito was speechless for a moment: "What a simple reason."

"Um."