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

"Get lost."

Qingyunzi snorted coldly, his tone filled with undisguised mockery.

"You've gotten addicted to pretending to be an ordinary person in Jiangcheng all these years, haven't you?"

It's one thing to fool others outside, but in front of your senior uncle, you're still going to keep pretending?

Qingyunzi casually hung the wine gourd on his belt, dusted off his Taoist robe, and continued:

"With your current cultivation level, you may not be considered a top expert, but you're still someone of note."

Although I concealed my aura when I entered, I didn't deliberately hide my presence. Do you really think you couldn't detect me coming in?

"What kind of ghost story are you putting on for me?"

Despite Qingyunzi ruthlessly exposing his secrets to his face, Director Wang showed no embarrassment at being exposed.

Instead, he chuckled dryly twice, instantly erasing his initial look of being frightened.

Instead, he exuded a shrewd and composed demeanor.

"Hehe, Uncle-Master is right."

Director Wang rubbed his hands together, walked to the other side of the sofa, and sat down by himself.

"However, with my meager skills, how can I compare to a true master like you, Uncle Master?"

If you were truly determined to hide it, let alone me, even the old immortals at the various mountain gates would probably have to go to great lengths to detect it.

Stop flattering me. You've always been a smooth talker since you were a kid, and you never tell the truth.

The old Taoist priest snorted and did not respond to Director Wang's flattery.

Director Wang was clearly used to his senior's temper.

He didn't feel embarrassed at all. He reached under the coffee table, pulled out an exquisite cigarette case, lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and exhaled a cloud of bluish-white smoke.

"In any case, you really went to great lengths tonight, Uncle-Master."

Director Wang looked at Qingyunzi through the smoke, his expression turning serious.

"The matter I entrusted to you, Martial Uncle..."

Before he could finish speaking, the old Taoist priest interrupted him impatiently.

"nonsense!"

Qingyunzi rolled her eyes and said irritably.

"Even your uncle personally stepped in, swallowing his pride and resorting to mystical tricks, how could he possibly fail at such a trivial matter?"

At this point, Qingyunzi seemed to recall his experience at the construction site.

He couldn't help but reach out and rub his aching lower back, his tone filled with resentment and complaint.

"It's just a pity about my old bones!"

"At their advanced age, they still have to go to that gloomy, dilapidated construction site in the middle of the night to be used as punching bags!"

Qingyunzi glared at the mud spots on his Taoist robe and said indignantly.

"Do you know how humiliated I was after that bowl of black dog's blood?!"

Qingyunzi grew increasingly angry as she spoke, so she simply crossed her legs, pointed at Director Wang's nose, and continued her tirade:

"Also, in order to make the performance more realistic, when the ghost I summoned was swatted away, I had to cooperate by falling into a mud pit!"

When in my entire life have I ever suffered such injustice?

That kid, on the other hand, just watched the show for ages, only making a move after I, the old Taoist priest, was completely disoriented.

Young people these days really don't know anything about respecting the elderly and caring for the young!

Hearing Qingyunzi's barrage of complaints, Director Wang could only nod and smile apologetically, cigarette between his fingers.

"Yes, yes, Uncle, you've been wronged. I'll definitely take good care of you in the future."

Director Wang quickly followed up on the conversation and offered words of comfort.

Qingyunzi complained for a while, seemingly having vented his anger.

He abruptly changed the subject, his slightly cloudy but sharp eyes staring intently at Director Wang.

At the same time, he reached out and patted the heavy gourd at his waist.

"Tianxiang, I've handled this matter perfectly for you."

"Tonight, I'll drink two bottles of your wine. Is that too much to ask?"

Qingyunzi stared at Director Wang, his tone chilling.

Director Wang looked at the two empty glass bottles on the coffee table, and his lips twitched involuntarily.

He hesitated for a while, as if trying to say something to salvage his bleeding heart.

But in the end, under the old Taoist's unwavering gaze, Director Wang succumbed.

He slumped like a deflated balloon, his shoulders drooping, and he sighed helplessly.

"Not excessive, not excessive."

"Uncle-Master, it's a blessing that you've taken a liking to this wine. Please drink as much as you like."

Upon hearing this, the old Taoist priest nodded in satisfaction, and a smile returned to his face.

He pulled out the stopper from the gourd, tilted his head back, brought the gourd opening to his mouth, and took a big, satisfying gulp.

As the amber-colored liquor slid down his throat, Qingyunzi closed his eyes, his face revealing an expression of great enjoyment mixed with a touch of complex reminiscence.

He even smacked his lips, savoring the lingering richness and spiciness in his mouth.

After a long while, Qingyunzi slowly opened his eyes and exhaled a long breath of alcohol.

"The wine from this ninth location still tastes as good as ever."

It's strong and smooth; drinking it feels like a fire burning in your stomach—so satisfying!

Qingyunzi patted his belly and praised it generously.

He turned his head, looked at Director Wang sitting opposite him smoking, and said with a half-smile:

"You little brat, how many years has it been since you became some lousy director in Jiangcheng and haven't offered me this good stuff?"

I thought you had completely cut off all those old relationships from the past long ago...

I never expected you to have secretly kept two bottles at home.

Upon hearing the words "Ninth Division," Director Wang's fingers, which were holding a cigarette, paused slightly, and the smile on his face gradually faded.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette, stubbed it out in the ashtray, looked up at Qingyunzi, and his expression became somewhat complicated and solemn.

"Uncle-Master..."

Director Wang opened his mouth, about to say something.

But before he could finish speaking, the old Taoist priest rudely interrupted him by raising his hand.

Qingyunzi nimbly stood up from the sofa and patted the dust off his bottom.

Then he grabbed the gourd filled with the special-supply liquor from the Ninth Bureau and tied it securely around his waist.

"Stop."

Qingyunzi pointed a finger at Director Wang, his expression becoming unusually serious, even showing a hint of indifference.

"I don't want to hear a single word of your messy affairs, nor do I want to get involved in them at all."

He waved the wide sleeves of his Taoist robe and said resolutely:

"I'm here today purely out of respect for the fact that you kowtowed to me back then, so I'll run an errand for you and put on a show."

Now that the play is over, I've had my drink.

As for the rest of the twists and turns, the entanglements of cause and effect, you can worry about them yourself.

"I'm used to a life of leisure and can't stand your rules, so I'm leaving."