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

"Thank you for reminding me, Brother Jin. I understand now."

I replied calmly.

"So... what's the attitude of the Folklore Bureau towards this Lord Huai? Are they ignoring him?"

"Manage? How?"

Jin Wanliang snorted coldly.

"Those people in the Folklore Bureau are very shrewd. As long as this Lord Huai doesn't cause any big trouble in public or hold any large-scale sacrificial ceremonies, they usually turn a blind eye."

After all, the terrain in the old town is complex, and if a fight breaks out, the casualties would be too great, and no one could bear the responsibility. However…”

He paused, seemingly hesitant to speak.

"But what?"

I pressed for an answer.

"However, I heard that the Bureau of Folklore recently appointed a new deputy director who has been secretly investigating the missing persons in Jiangcheng..."

Brother Chen, that's all I have to say. Take my advice: never mess with this Master Huai.

"I see."

I hung up the phone, feeling the coolness on my fingertips.

To dig out the heart.

Lin Tiantian's heart was stolen, the Yin-Yang Face was used to refine the Heart-Point Demon, and Li Hongmei's various behaviors all point to the fact that the mastermind behind it all is this Master Huai.

Such a ruthless person, since we've already crossed swords, if I don't take him down first, I won't be able to sleep peacefully anymore.

As I looked at that large red gate, I already had a plan in mind.

The best way to deal with these heretical practitioners, especially local tyrants, is to bring in official support.

Should I contact the Folklore Bureau directly?

As Jin Wanliang said, they are now turning a blind eye to this Master Huai.

Even though I have the status of an advisor, I don't have any solid evidence.

If we report it directly, the folk customs bureau might come only to find nothing, which would only alarm them.

I need a more direct starting point.

For example, get this old man to voluntarily expose the evil deeds he is carrying out.

I decided not to leave yet, but instead took a walk around the old town.

The feng shui layout here is very strange.

The locust tree grove is low-lying, and the surrounding buildings form a wall that locks all the yin energy in the center.

This type of layout is called a "sunken coffin site," which is most suitable for nurturing yin-related objects.

When I came back from my walk, I noticed a very ordinary-looking black Santana parked at the entrance of the alley.

The car window was rolled down a crack, and a faint smell of smoke drifted out.

When did this car appear?

With suspicion in my mind, I deliberately drove past that Santana, even stopping to straighten my shoelaces.

But his eyes inadvertently glanced into the car a few times.

However, the tint on the car window tint was too dark, so I couldn't see clearly. I could only vaguely make out a few people sitting inside the car smoking.

At that moment, the people in the car seemed to notice my gaze, and the light from their cigarettes flickered slightly.

What keen observation skills!

The people in the car were definitely not ordinary people.

Afraid of being exposed, I didn't linger. Pretending to tie my shoelaces, I went straight into a run-down convenience store across the street and bought a box of matches and a bottle of mineral water.

"Boss, has anyone been coming to that big red gate in the locust tree a lot lately?" I asked casually as I paid.

The convenience store owner was a thin, old man. He didn't even lift his eyelids: "Young man, you're from out of town, aren't you? Take my advice, stop asking around and go home early."

I smiled, said nothing, and walked out of the store with the water in my hand.

It seems that the people in this area have heard some rumors about this eerie place.

After I came out, I didn't look at the Santana again, but instead turned around and went deeper into the intricate alleys of the locust tree.

As an embalmer, my sensitivity to the aura of death far exceeds that of ordinary people.

If someone in this yard really did dig out a heart and skin them, then the drainage pipes underground would surely retain an indelible smell of blood and resentment.

Perhaps we can find some other clues.

I went around to the back of the red gate courtyard, squatted down, and stopped at a sewer opening covered with moss.

I took a match out of my pocket, struck it, and held the flame close to the crack in the drain opening, holding my breath.

The flames didn't go out; instead, they turned a strange, eerie green, as if they had been sucked into something, with sparks crackling and popping.

"The smell of corpse oil is so strong," I murmured to myself.

The smell wasn't the rotten kind, but a strange, fishy odor.

This is the residue left after mass processing of corpses and extracting corpse oil using secret methods.

It seems that what Master Huai is up to here is even bigger than what Jin Wanliang said.

I stood up and my gaze fell on an old locust tree on the back wall.

The tree was extremely lush, with branches and leaves so thick that it almost shaded half of the yard.

In folk beliefs, the locust tree is considered a "ghost tree," and in this feng shui layout with extremely heavy yin energy, the location where such a large locust tree is rooted must have some significance.

I was just about to climb over the wall through the rubble to take a look when I suddenly heard a soft footstep behind me.

It was very light, like a fallen leaf landing.

Without turning around, my right hand had already silently reached for the scalpel in my sleeve. My voice was calm: "Friend, you've been following me all this way, aren't you tired?"

The alley was quiet, with only my own voice echoing through it.

About three seconds later, a hoarse male voice sounded from behind me: "Young man, are you from the Corpse Stitcher lineage?"

I slowly turned around.

The person who came was wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, and his face was obscured by shadows, but he was as thin as a bamboo pole.

"The mortician, Chen Yang."

I answered truthfully, in a calm tone, "And which street are you from?"

The man let out a dry laugh: "Who I am is not important. What is important is that what you smelled in the sewer just now is enough to kill me a hundred times over."

But the waters behind him run deep; you, a mere newcomer to the world, can't wade through them.

He pointed in the direction of the Santana: "The people in the car are my buddies. We've been waiting here for half a month, just to get a 'tip' in."

The aura of menace you planted in that woman was well-executed, but it was still lacking.

The woman he was referring to was Li Hongmei, who had taken my specially made tongue-pressing money.

I squinted: "What do you want?"

"What we need is a roster."

The man took a step forward. "Over the years, Master Huai has helped many big shots in Jiangcheng deal with shady dealings. He has a register that records the destination of every heart."

He looked at me, his eyes scrutinizing me. "I reckon this register will be useful to you too. After I get it, I'll make a copy for you. How about we cooperate?"

I didn't say anything, my mind was racing.

These people are clearly not from the official ranks; they are most likely avengers of some victims who were "dealt with" by Master Huai, or assassins employed by hostile forces.

Cooperating with them is tantamount to asking a tiger for its skin.

But I do need an opportunity to enter the courtyard now.