What do you mean by saying that the corpses I sew are all ominous creatures?

It's obvious without even thinking that it's Director Wang.

I went up the stairs, pushed open the door to the cosmetic surgery room, and looked inside.

Sure enough, Director Wang, with his round belly, stood with his hands behind his back, spitting as he lectured Old Zhang, who was busy at work.

Old Zhang kept his head down, holding a needle and thread in his hand, without arguing, just working silently.

"Director Wang, I'm back," I said upon seeing this.

Upon hearing the voice, Director Wang's plump body suddenly turned around.

When they saw it was me, their small eyes lit up with an unusual light, as if they had found a lifeline.

"Oh my! My dear Chen! You've finally come back!"

Director Wang strode up to me in two quick steps and slapped my shoulder hard.

"If you don't come back soon, I'm going to call the police and post missing person notices!"

"Quick, quick, change your clothes. Old Zhang's back is hurting so badly he can barely stand up straight. There's a tricky job waiting for you here."

Old Zhang also looked up and gave me a somewhat awkward smile: "Xiao Chen, you're back."

"Okay, Lao Zhang, take a break, I'll do it."

I nodded to him, skillfully took out a white coat from the locker and put it on, along with a mask and gloves.

Director Wang rambled on from the side: "Little Chen, it's not that I'm biased, but Old Zhang's skills are really... sigh, let's not talk about it."

This bed belonged to someone who died in a car accident. The family has high demands and insists on restoring it to its original condition.

"Take a look and see if it can be fixed."

I walked to the plastic surgery bed and lifted a corner of the white cloth.

The deceased was a young woman who suffered severe head injuries, with half of her face almost completely collapsed.

This kind of work is indeed difficult, requiring a lot of filling and meticulous stitching, which Old Zhang's rough stitches simply cannot handle.

I didn't say anything, but just took out my usual set of medical sutures from the toolbox.

"Director, you can go ahead and do your work. I can handle things here," I said softly.

"Okay, okay! I feel relieved with you here."

Director Wang breathed a sigh of relief, and before leaving, he didn't forget to give Old Zhang some advice.

"Old Zhang, you should learn more from Xiao Chen. Look at his composure and his aura."

Old Zhang smiled awkwardly. After Director Wang left the room, he breathed a sigh of relief, plopped down on the plastic stool next to him, and rubbed his back.

"Xiao Chen, I'm sorry you had to see this."

Old Zhang took out a cigarette, thought for a moment, and then put it back.

"This job is really difficult. I've been working on it for ages, and the more I sew, the worse it looks."

"It's alright. When stitching up the head, we need to find the support points of the skeleton first. You might have been too hasty just now."

As I spoke, the scalpel in my hand precisely cut open the damaged tissue.

The room fell silent, save for the soft clanging of metal instruments.

I was completely focused on the operation, and this feeling made me feel very at ease.

In those unpredictable folk conflicts, I had to be on high alert at all times.

But in the funeral home, I was facing the dead who couldn't speak and had no guile.

I carefully repositioned the shattered skull with tweezers, each stitch moving extremely slowly and steadily.

Old Zhang watched from the side, gradually becoming engrossed in the story.

"Xiao Chen, your hand... is really steady. I've been in this business for twenty years, and I've never seen anyone more steady than you," Old Zhang exclaimed sincerely.

I didn't reply, I just smiled gently.

When the last suture was knotted and cut, the deceased's previously sunken face had largely regained its original contours.

After I used special oil paint and foundation to cover and embellish the body, the deceased looked as if he were sleeping peacefully.

Old Zhang leaned closer, his eyes wide: "Amazing...this is simply amazing!"

I straightened up and felt a wave of relief.

This pure physical exertion actually made the flow of my malevolent energy smoother.

"No problem, move it to the refrigerator."

I took off my mask and let out a long breath.

Over the next few days, my life settled into an extremely regular rhythm.

I get up early every day and then drive to the funeral home to work.

At the museum, when there was work to do, he would sew corpses and cultivate himself at the same time; when he was free, he would smoke and chat with Old Zhang, and occasionally help Grandpa Qin move things.

After get off work in the afternoon, I go to the market to buy some fresh ingredients and go back to my rented room to cook myself a simple dinner.

Evenings are the unwavering time for spiritual practice.

I will try to release the evil energy and manipulate the black bone needle to practice various complex flight trajectories in the room.

As my cultivation level improved, I became more and more adept at controlling my qi, and the controllable range of my bone needles increased by several meters.

The rest of the time, apart from regulating my breathing and clearing away the evil energy I absorbed at the funeral home during the day, was spent sewing up the ghosts.

As the past few days have passed, the last remaining mysterious and cool sensation between my brows has finally begun to grow stronger again.

These days are as calm as a stagnant pool.

That day, as I was sitting in my car after work, planning to go to the market to buy two fresh grass carp to make soup, my phone screen suddenly lit up.

I picked it up and saw it was Li Qing's phone call.

"Old Chen, stop dawdling. Haiyanlou, the top-tier private room."

"Fatty Jin is here, we're just waiting for you, hurry up!"

When the call connected, Li Qing's voice sounded unusually excited, as if he had won the lottery.

I didn't ask him what he was doing, just assumed he was showing off his wealth and replied, "Okay, I'll be right there."

After hanging up the phone, I turned the car around and drove towards Haiyanlou.

When I arrived at Haiyan Tower, dusk had already enveloped the entire city.

Pushing open the door to the top-tier private room, a rich aroma of food mingled with the scent of premium Longjing tea wafted out.

Jin Wanliang was sitting in the main seat, playing with two high-quality old mine jadeite walnuts in his hands, smiling like a Maitreya Buddha.

Li Qing, dressed in a hoodie and jeans, was leaning back in his chair in a nonchalant manner, constantly scrolling through his phone.

"You two arrived quite early."

I pulled out a chair, sat down, and made a joke.

"Oh, Brother Chen, you've finally arrived."

Jin Wanliang got up and poured me a cup of tea, his movements practiced and natural.

"Our great Immortal Li is being very generous today, saying he'll prepare a farewell feast... oh no, I mean a farewell tea."

Hearing this, I looked at Li Qing: "Are you leaving?"

Li Qing put down his phone and chuckled, "Old Chen, I've gotten in touch with my master!"

The old man had been missing for so long, but he finally reappeared in the Northwest.

He replied to my letter, saying he could repair my apricot-yellow flag, and asked me to bring the flag over in person.

"That's a good thing." I nodded.

The matter of repairing the flag was settled so quickly; it was worth the trip to the border region that Li Qing and I made.

"It's good, but the place is just too damn remote."

Li Qing curled her lip, looking disgusted.

"The Northwest is all sand and wind. My flight is at 11 pm tonight. I'll fly to Lanzhou first, then transfer to a car. I'll probably be stuck in the mountains for quite a while."