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

I took the lead and stepped onto the steps of the main hall.

The wooden doors of the main hall were extremely heavy, and made a dull creaking sound when pushed open.

The threshold was very high, almost up to my knees.

The main hall was dimly lit, without electric lights, except for a dozen or so huge bronze lamps embedded in the walls on both sides, which burned quietly.

The lamp oil was made from some unknown substance; it produced no black smoke when burned, but instead emitted a faint, pleasant fragrance.

Several large armchairs were placed on the high platform directly opposite the main gate.

An old man dressed in a dark red, double-breasted robe was sitting upright in a grand chair.

His hair and beard were all white, and his face was covered with brown age spots, but his eyes were clear and bright.

The air around him seemed to distort slightly, and seeing this, the flow of my malevolent energy involuntarily quickened.

This old man was none other than Lan Manshan, one of the powerful figures in the Lan family that Jin Wanliang had mentioned.

On either side of the foot of Lanman Mountain stood four middle-aged men.

Their temples bulged high, and their eyes were sharp as eagles; they were clearly all skilled fighters from the Lan family.

I walked to the center of the main hall with ten thousand taels of gold and stopped.

Jin Wanliang truly lived up to his reputation as a cunning old fox who had navigated the treacherous waters of Jiangcheng's business world and various social circles for many years.

Before I could speak, he took a deep breath.

Then his face instantly changed to an extremely sincere, even somewhat sorrowful, expression.

He stepped forward, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and bowed deeply, his voice loud yet carrying just the right amount of self-reproach:

"Jiangcheng has ten thousand taels of gold; I have come to pay my respects to Grandpa Lan!"

Mr. Jin has come today to apologize to the Lan family and to Grandpa!

Lan Manshan didn't speak, he just looked at him quietly.

The atmosphere in the main hall was so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.

Jin Wanliang continued without pausing, "Master Lan was murdered in Jiangcheng, and I cannot shirk my responsibility."

I invited the master to Jiangcheng to help because of his reputation, but I never expected...

I never expected those demons in Wandie Valley to be so rampant, secretly plotting against me!

Although Jin was just an ordinary businessman, he knew the rules of southern Xinjiang.

"Master, you've been dragged into this mess because of me. I, Jin, accept this debt!"

These words were perfectly watertight.

He first admitted his mistake and humbled himself.

Then, it cleverly emphasizes the real cause of Master Lan's death—that it was the mastermind behind the Myriad Butterfly Valley, not Jin Wanliang who killed him.

After saying that, Jin Wanliang carefully placed the silver combination lock box that he had been holding in his arms on the floor and quickly entered the password.

With a "click," the box opened.

The box was lined with thick, bright yellow silk, and a transparent glass vessel lay quietly in the center.

Inside the vessel was something as thin as a cicada's wing, emanating a faint chill.

"Grandpa, I know that Master Lan's life is priceless."

"Jin has come not to ask for Grandpa's complete forgiveness, but only to seek some compensation for the Lan family's losses."

Jin Wanliang pointed to that item.

"This is an item that Mr. Jin used all his connections and spent a lot of money to find from outside the Great Wall: a century-old ice silkworm molt."

This is specially dedicated to Grandpa, a small token of my appreciation.

I stood behind Jin Wanliang, calmly gazing at Lan Manshan on the high platform.

I had thought that the elder's expression would soften somewhat upon seeing this precious treasure.

But to my surprise, Lan Manshan's gaze merely swept lightly over the ice silkworm's molt, without even raising an eyebrow.

"A century-old ice silkworm molt is indeed a rare item."

After a long silence, Lan Manshan finally spoke.

His voice wasn't loud, but it buzzed throughout the hall, making people's eardrums tingle.

"Mr. Jin is very kind. Just leave it there."

Jin Wanliang was stunned for a moment, clearly not expecting Lan Manshan to react this way.

He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something more, but Lan Manshan raised his hand to interrupt him.

"Boss Jin, although my distant nephew is not very skilled, he is still a member of my Lan family."

He died in Jiangcheng, at the hands of those people from Wandie Valley. The Lan family will avenge this blood debt sooner or later.

Lan Manshan's voice was calm yet powerful.

"Although you are an employer, you are still an ordinary person. The methods of Wandie Valley are hard to guard against, so you can't be blamed."

The fact that you personally brought this to my door today shows that you know the proper etiquette.

You've settled half of this cause and effect.

Upon hearing this, Jin Wanliang felt as if he had been granted a pardon, repeatedly wiping the cold sweat from his forehead: "Thank you so much, Grandfather, for your magnanimity! Thank you so much, Grandfather!"

"but……"

Lan Manshan abruptly changed the subject, his eyes suddenly passing over Jin Wanliang and landing directly on me.

"Now that we've finished talking about Boss Jin, let's talk about yours."

Lan Manshan looked at me, a half-smile playing on his lips.

Upon hearing this, I was slightly taken aback.

Although I had doubts, I did not speak rashly at this moment, but waited for Lan Manshan to continue.

"Your name is Chen Yang, right?"

Lan Manshan leaned back in the armchair, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest.

"Just now, a junior from outside sent word that Boss Jin has brought a young man."

He looks gentle and mild-mannered, but he's actually quite ruthless.

He said he was in your hands, but suffered a great loss.

Upon hearing this, the four middle-aged men standing on either side all turned their gazes toward me, their eyes filled with scrutiny and hostility.

I met their gazes and replied calmly, "Grandpa, you are wise."

I am just a mortician, and I am usually exposed to a lot of yin energy, so my body instinctively rejects external energies.

It was not intentional to offend the Lan family's rules.

"An undertaker?"

Lan Manshan chuckled softly, the sound of which seemed somewhat chilling in the empty hall.

"Young people these days like to use these new words."

If I'm not mistaken, the internal energy you're practicing exudes a chilling aura, a sinister chill that seems to have crawled out of a pile of corpses.

This isn't something an ordinary mortician could learn.

He paused, his gaze suddenly sharpening: "In our circle, this craft should be called 'corpse stitching,' right?"

The air inside the hall seemed to freeze again.

Jin Wanliang turned his head and looked at me with some concern.

I didn't deny it. Since the other party had already seen through it, hiding it would only make me seem petty.

I nodded slightly, looking composed: "Grandpa has a good eye."

The younger generation did indeed inherit the family's mortuary sewing skills, earning a living at the Jiangcheng Funeral Home.

"The corpse stitcher... good, very good."

Lan Manshan stopped tapping his fingers on the armrest.

He looked at me, his eyes flashing with a complex light, as if he were recalling something from the past.

"Speaking of which, your lineage of corpse stitchers has a long-standing grudge with our Southern Frontier, and even with the Valley of Ten Thousand Butterflies."

Upon hearing this, my heart stirred slightly.

My grandfather's whereabouts were indeed elusive back then. The only thing I know is that he went to the area outside the Great Wall and visited Wandie Valley before he died.

Could the old grudge that Grandpa Lan mentioned be related to my grandfather?