I Only Want to Lie Flat But Am Forced to Cultivate Immortality-Chapter 108 - 79: The Changeable Wind and Clouds

March, the time of orioles, also known as the Month of Peaches.

At this time, it was late spring, the sky was clear and the wind was warm. On the Linhe River Path, the painting boats were bustling with activity. The peach blossoms on the embankment smiled, and the willow leaves extended their eyebrows, resembling the picturesque scenes of Jiangnan.

Under the Shuimen Bridge, scholars and poets rode on black-roofed boats, viewing the river; women out for a spring outing carried wine and food as they passed by the bridgehead.

Besides these leisurely people enjoying flowers and spring, the streets were full of busy vendors and workers, each with their destinations, either struggling for a living or working hard for worldly matters.

In a courtyard with its main gate tightly closed, locust trees took root in fertile soil, striving to sprout.

The Dang Ling Flower seeds planted in the courtyard had somehow sprouted into three-inch tall seedlings. This flower could sense the presence of corpses, gather yin energy, and bring evil spirits—being a flower of the gloomy kind.

Though the Dang Ling Flower had yet to bloom, the seedlings had already formed a lush green patch. Whenever the shadowy wind blew past, it rippled like waves.

In front of a stone table, a legless antique chair wobbled, as if someone was taking a nap on it; under the eaves, a beast’s skull served as a wind chime, welcoming the evil spirits into the entire courtyard.

On the roof ridge, an entirely black cat, without a single trace of other colors, walked gracefully.

It leaped from the roof ridge to the wall, then landed in the courtyard.

Passing the antique chair, the black cat turned its backside towards it, its tail standing upright like a stick. With a shiver, it sprayed the chair leg with fresh cat urine.

After marking the chair, it continued patrolling the yard, making numerous other marks along the way.

When it returned to the room where the coffin lay, the black cat glanced at the puppet sitting in front of the coffin in meditation, the corners of its mouth curving into a slightly disdainful smile.

It lifted its paw elegantly, intending to cross the threshold.

"Meow——!"

The black cat’s head suddenly dropped, as though the solid ground beneath it had turned into a void, causing it to stumble and lose its footing.

Thankfully, it reacted quickly and, in a split second, managed to halt its rapid fall. It then performed an improbable mid-air double jump.

Just as its four paws were about to touch down, the black cat, with its fur still standing on end, realized that its feet had once again landed on nothing.

In the period that followed, the room housing the coffin contained a frantic black figure continuously stumbling, meowing, and bouncing out of pits.

When the commotion inside the house finally ceased, the intruding stray cat also became completely quiet.

It wasn’t dead, however; instead, the stray cat was hanging upside down from the rafters by its hind legs, swinging back and forth like a pendulum.

The cat bared its teeth, then curled its body, revealing sharp claws hidden beneath its fur. With a gentle swipe, it effortlessly severed the wire binding its hind legs, as if the poisonous, serrated wire were as fragile as hair.

After finally landing on the ground, the black cat lost its playful spirit. It cautiously lifted its paw, standing stiffly for a moment before daring to step down again.

It repeatedly tested the firmness of the ground before finally letting out a sigh of relief.

In the days that followed, the black cat roamed both day and night. Occasionally, it brought fishy treats or caught mice, placing them on the coffin lid to eat and play with.

The puppet guarding the coffin seemed to ignore the cat that treated the coffin lid like a scratching post, allowing it to wreak havoc in the house.

When it tired of playing, the cat would leap onto the bed, curling into a ball and letting out soft purring sounds.

Time flew by, and a month passed in the blink of an eye.

The Shuimen Bridge Residence remained tranquil, with the coffin, which had been still for over a month, showing no change except for numerous scratch marks.

Wang Lingyuan, who was on duty at the Linhe Government Office, would occasionally visit Underground Street to inquire about Xu Qing. The Wu brothers, who had long returned to the Paper Mache Shop, were equally clueless about Xu Qing’s whereabouts. Everyone only knew that the little shopkeeper of the Funeral Shop, Xu Qing, had passed the exam to become a scholar and had gone to study abroad.

As for how long he would be gone and when he would return, there was no definite answer.

The chatty proprietress of the Incense and Candle Shop shared her own theory with everyone, saying that Xu was young and capable. Having passed the scholar exam at such an age, he would certainly be unwilling to continue working with the dead. He might have already married a young lady from a wealthy family, living a blissful life like an immortal.

Who would still think about a small shop like this?

Wang Lingyuan believed most of what he heard and thereafter seldom went to Underground Street to ask about Xu Qing.

But Hu Baosong, the shopkeeper at the coffin shop, was not as cheerful, always feeling that his hopes had been dashed once again.

Only the Wu brothers remained unconvinced, always believing that Brother Xu was not that kind of person!

In addition to the changes on Underground Street, many things had happened over the past month in Linhe District.

For example, the most famous brothel, Book Phoenix Pavilion, was closed and reorganized by the authorities. Additionally, the newly arrived Jinmen Gang at Linhe Wharf clashed violently with the broker, resulting in many deaths.

Then there was the constable from the Patrol Office, Zhao Zhonghe, who was overjoyed to have a son. He sent out many invitations for the full moon banquet, even to people he didn’t get along with, including Xu Qing.

If Xu Qing had been there, he would definitely have thrown the invitation into the stove.

Who is Zhao Zhonghe? Never heard of him!

A stranger wanting him to contribute money? Perhaps too much fake alcohol had been consumed.

During Xu Qing’s retreat, a lot of small things happened in Linhe District, but for bigger changes, one should look to the court.

Over the past two months, the already turbulent Dayong Dynasty had become even more stormy.

In the Yangxin Hall of the Luojing Imperial City, Emperor Longping opened his cloudy eyes and looked at the Third Prince, who seemed as frightened as a startled bird.

"I’m asking you a question. Your Imperial Brother has treated you well; why did you commit such a treasonous act?"

The Emperor loved his eldest son, and the people loved the youngest.

Upon hearing of Zhao You’s assassination, Emperor Longping seemed to have aged considerably. He looked at the Third Prince, Zhao Rong, his eyes like those of an old dragon that had awakened from a long sleep.