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

Time flies, and seven days have passed since I returned to Jiangcheng.

These seven days passed like a glass of lukewarm water—plain and quiet, yet reassuring.

My daily routine became very regular: I worked in the mortuary's cosmetic ward during the day, handling various bodies that were brought in.

In the evening, he would return to Tingyuxuan, sit cross-legged, circulate his inner energy, and occasionally glance at the cyan snake egg that radiated a warm, jade-like luster.

I've gradually learned some updates about the situation at Laoxiongling in western Hunan over the past few days.

On the third day of his stay in Jiangcheng, Zhang Xuanqing told me that he had bought a plane ticket and was heading back to Longhushan.

As expected, he spent a whole day wandering around the ancestral graves in Zhoujia Village, practically turning the land upside down, but he didn't find any useful clues.

After all, Yan Shouyi had been causing trouble there for more than two months, and then the branch office sealed off and cleared it out.

Even if there were any clues left behind back then, they have long been erased by the wind and rain and the passage of time.

As for the Beijing General Bureau and the Ninth Division, after Shan Yan took the three prisoners back, they seemed to have disappeared without a trace for the past seven days, with no news reaching me at all.

No news is, in fact, the most accurate news.

This proves that even the most skilled interrogators in the Ninth Division probably couldn't extract any useful information from those three assassins.

In this way, the trail to the Sang family's orphan was completely cut off.

However, I didn't care too much about this matter.

Looking at the big picture, this whole affair actually doesn't have much to do with me.

The main reason I agreed to go to western Hunan with Zhang Xuanqing was because I learned from him that the sealing technique on the stone coffin seemed to be the work of my grandfather.

In addition, it also involves some old stories about the "Heavenly Garment Strategy" and the Sang family.

Now that I've finished my trip to western Hunan, I've personally witnessed the methods my grandfather used back then, right through the seal of that ancient tomb.

I also learned some crucial information.

Overall, I have achieved my goal after this trip to western Hunan.

As for that orphan of the Sang family hiding in the shadows... let the Bureau of Folklore and Zhang Xuanqing worry about it.

As a nominal external consultant, I'm too lazy to search the world for him unless he actively provokes me.

The only thing that surprised me during these seven days was that fat guy, Jin Wanliang.

Old Jin is very well-informed. The day after I returned to Jiangcheng, he sent me a WeChat message to ask if I had returned to Jiangcheng.

I gave him a brief reply.

I thought that, based on his past behavior, he would definitely find an excuse to organize a gathering, or simply bring two bottles of good wine to Tingyuxuan to catch up with me.

Seven days passed, and apart from occasionally contacting me on WeChat, this fat guy never once mentioned wanting to meet up with me.

This is really not like his personality.

However, considering that he is a businessman with a large business empire, he has to deal with both the legitimate and criminal worlds.

I assumed he was busy with some big business deal, so I didn't send him any messages to bother him.

2:30 p.m., the mortuary's basement cosmetic ward.

Outside, Jiangcheng was in the sweltering heat of mid-July, with the scorching sun making the asphalt roads feel soft.

But on this second basement level, a persistent chill permeated the air, mixed with a faint smell of formaldehyde.

I stood in front of the stainless steel dissection table, wearing a white work uniform, a mask, and rubber gloves.

The body of a young man lay on the platform.

This is a victim of a serious car accident.

When he was brought in, his entire face was a bloody mess due to the violent impact and the cutting of glass shards, making it almost impossible to discern his original facial features.

There was also a large area of ​​collapse in the chest cavity, and several broken ribs even pierced through the skin.

The deceased's parents were crying outside and fainted several times. It was Director Wang who personally received and comforted them.

Considering the extent of the damage to the body, Director Wang directly assigned this task to me.

I took a deep breath and cleared my mind of all the distracting thoughts about western Hunan and the orphans of the Sang family.

"I'm sorry, brother."

I'll get you all ready right away, so you can set off cleanly and safely.

I murmured something to the body, then picked up the suture needle and catgut that were lying to the side.

I did not use that black bone needle.

That thing is used to stitch up spirits and deal with evil spirits. For ordinary corpses, traditional tools combined with the stitcher's techniques are sufficient.

An hour later, I cut the last thread.

The young man, whose face was originally unrecognizable, now has about 80-90% of his original appearance restored.

Although you can still see some faint stitches if you look closely, with my subsequent makeup and touch-ups, I can at least preserve his dignity in front of his family.

Just as I finished the last injection, I felt a faint, invisible aura emanating from the body.

Then, following my breath, it flowed into my dantian.

Within the dantian, after the evil core came into contact with this invisible aura, it actually began to rotate slightly faster, and then instantly devoured it completely.

In just a moment, I could feel the evil core solidify a little more.

Seeing this, I nodded and breathed a sigh of relief.

That's why I insisted on staying and working at the funeral home.

Although the corpse did not turn into an evil spirit and the amount of malevolent energy it produced was not much, it was all "harmless" to me and could be absorbed into my body without much effort.

Water dripping on stone can wear it away; little by little, it can accumulate.

After taking off my work clothes and washing my hands, I pushed open the door of the cosmetic surgery room and walked out.

In the corridor outside, the deceased's parents saw the body being wheeled out. Although they were still heartbroken, they trembled as they walked over to me, bowing repeatedly to express their gratitude, upon seeing their son's face restored to its original state.

I helped the two elderly people up, whispered a few words of condolence, and then turned and left.

I've seen this kind of scene too many times; it no longer stirs much emotion in me.

It was 5 PM, time to leave work.

I changed back into my black casual clothes and walked out of the funeral home.

The heat wave outside hit me, making me squint my eyes slightly.

I drove back to Tingyuxuan and went up to the third floor, which was still deserted.

After Li Qing left, the entire large apartment felt empty.

I walked to the coffee table, poured myself a glass of cold water, and drank half of it in one gulp.

After resting for a while, I walked to the open space in the center of the hall and took out the black bone needle from my pocket.

During these seven days, in addition to my daily meditation and breathing exercises, I would spend two hours every night practicing my control over the "Mirage Dragon Silk".