Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

Linhe County Inspection Bureau, Yue Shan Office.

The light from the oil lamp illuminated Yue Shan's angular face in a half-light, half-shadow.

Sitting opposite him was Liu Shoucai, the owner of Fushou Coffin Shop.

He was no longer the smooth talker he usually was on the street; he seemed a bit reserved, and his hands unconsciously rubbed his knees.

"Manager Liu, thank you for making this trip. Tell me, what's the latest situation with that kid Chen Mo?" Yue Shan's tone carried an imposing authority that brooked no perfunctory response.

Zhao Degui cleared his throat. "Commander Yue, don't worry, I, Old Zhao, am very discerning when it comes to getting paid."

"This Chen kid hasn't left the house much in the past month. He's only been open for half a day and closed for half a day at the shop. The jobs he's taken..." He counted on his fingers.

"Old Wang's grandson died young at the east end of the street, so they made a pair of paper money for him and his daughter. Granny Liu in the west alley made funeral clothes and asked for some paper money on the side. These are all small jobs, and they don't earn much money in total, let alone big customers from Tianjin!"

"Commander Yue, to be honest, in our line of work," he said with a confident expression, "big deals, especially from big cities like Tianjin, where they need complete sets of large items like the Guardian General and the Gold and Silver Box, require planning well in advance."

"The homeowner has to send someone to inspect the craftsmanship, discuss the style, set the rules, and sometimes even consider the feng shui and auspicious time."

"How can you order something one day and then rush to send it away in the middle of the night? Maybe it was possible when Chen Dachuan was around, but with Chen Mo looking like he could be blown away by a gust of wind, who would trust him with such an important matter as a tomb?"

"They even went all the way from Jinshi to find him? Impossible, there's absolutely no such person!"

Yue Shan listened quietly, his finger unconsciously tracing lines on the table. "Are you sure there haven't been any unfamiliar faces this month, especially those who don't look like locals going to the border crossing? Or, has Chen Mo himself done anything unusual?"

Zhao Degui thought carefully for a few seconds, then shook his head. "Most of the people on the funeral street have had family misfortunes. They all look panicked. I can basically remember them all."

"Did you specifically look for Chen Mo? No, not at all. Any unusual behavior..." He frowned. "That kid's become even more gloomy and quieter than before. Oh, by the way, he suddenly paid back the two silver dollars he owed Widow Li a few days ago!"

"This is a bit strange. Given how poor he was before, how come he suddenly has money to pay back? But maybe he finally saved up some money and wants to settle his debts?"

Yue Shan's eyes flickered slightly. "You returned Widow Li's money? When exactly?"

"It was just two days ago, before he left home," Zhao Degui confirmed.

"Anything else? What's different about the big items he brought on this trip compared to what you usually see?" Yue Shan pressed.

"The materials used look more solid than before; the general is quite burly."

Zhao Degui smacked his lips. "But to be honest, Commander Yue, I felt something was off. His things were pasted up very tightly, so they must have been quite heavy. I patted the general's leg, and it was hard as a rock, unlike ordinary paper effigies which are light and airy."

"I thought he was worried it would fall apart on the road, so he added extra layers of paper for reinforcement. Now that I think about it..." He looked both surprised and a little scared, "Could there really be something else hidden inside?"

Yue Shan didn't answer directly, but pondered for a moment and said, "Boss Zhao, when you were on the street, did you hear any unusual rumors about the Black Tiger Gang's downfall? Especially... about paper offerings?"

Zhao Degui's expression changed, and he subconsciously looked around. "Commander Yue, there's some truth to that. Everyone says that Lei Laohu and the others died strangely, as if they were cursed or had offended something they shouldn't have."

Yue Shan nodded, asking no further questions. He took a small cloth bag from the drawer and pushed it to Zhao Degui: "Boss Zhao, this is your hard-earned money for this month. What I said today is only for you; don't mention it to outsiders. Continue to keep an eye on the movements of Du'e Zhai. If Chen Mo returns, or if there is anything unusual, notify us the usual way."

"Yes! I understand! I understand! Thank you, Commander Yue!" Zhao Degui took the cloth bag, weighed it in his hand, and beamed with joy. He quickly stood up, nodding and bowing. "Don't worry, I'll keep a close eye on things. I'll report to you immediately if anything happens!"

After seeing Zhao Degui off, Yue Shan returned to his table, his face turning completely somber.

He unfolded a map of Linhe County, his gaze falling on the South Wharf and the waterway leading to Jinshi.

"Without any clients, they suddenly produced and shipped a large, high-quality sacrificial offering to Tsu City..."

"Paying off old debts ahead of schedule..."

"The cargo is unusually heavy..."

"The timeline immediately follows the destruction of the Black Tiger Gang and the disappearance of the valuables from the secret room..."

Yue Shan got up and walked to the door, saying to the team members guarding outside, "Have Zhou Ling and Zhao Tie come to see me immediately."

Before long, Zhou Ling and Zhao Tie walked quickly into the office, both of them looking tired from their shifts.

"Captain Yue." The two men stood at attention and saluted.

Yue Shan waved his hand, gesturing for them to sit down, his gaze sweeping over their faces: "You were the ones who directly carried out the surveillance on Chen Mo these past twenty days. Carefully recall everything you saw and felt, especially those things that seemed insignificant at the time."

. . . . . .

The Night Owl cut through the murky river water and headed downstream towards Jinshi.

The cargo hold was crowded and dimly lit, filled with the odors of various goods and human sweat.

Chen Mo huddled in a corner, leaning against his cart covered with a straw mat.

His gaze, however, fell on the deepest part of the cargo hold, an area illuminated by a few deliberately dimmed oil lamps.

There, a pitch-black coffin stood prominently.

The coffin was not newly painted; the wood was dark and dull, exuding a chilling aura from years of wear.

There were four people sitting or leaning nearby, all dressed in dark gray or indigo coarse cloth clothes, with their cuffs and trouser legs tightly bound.

The group had ordinary faces, but their eyes were calm, a calmness born from having seen life and death many times.

They didn't talk to the other passengers, each silently wiping several strange tools: a curved shovel for probing the underworld, a gleaming Lu Ban ruler, and a scroll of cloth covered with incantations.

Chen Mo knew that this was a craftsman among the Yin Eight Craftsmen, specializing in funeral and grave relocation, whom ordinary people would avoid at all costs.

Beside the coffin, an elderly craftsman with gray hair was carefully wiping the patterns on the head of the coffin with a soft cloth.

He seemed to notice the gaze directed at him, his hands continuing their work while his head turned slightly to the side.

His cloudy eyes swept over Chen Mo, then lingered for a moment on the outline of the cart and straw mat before looking away, his expression blank.

Chen Mo stood up, dusted off non-existent dust from the corner of his clothes, and walked straight toward the coffin amidst the somewhat astonished gazes of the other passengers in the cargo hold.

He stopped about ten feet away from the coffin.

Several of the younger Yin Ba craftsmen immediately stopped what they were doing, their bodies tensing slightly.

That year, the elder craftsman was still wiping the coffin, as if he hadn't seen him coming.