I Only Want to Lie Flat But Am Forced to Cultivate Immortality-Chapter 71 - 60: Fallen Leaves Return to Their Roots

Wanshou Village is an excellent place, facing Baishui in the south and connected to the capital in the north. Apart from its convenient geographical location, the people here also live exceptionally long lives.

Some even joke that the number of elderly people from the twenty-four counties of Jinmen Prefecture combined can’t match those in Wanshou Village.

Upon hearing this, the current emperor paid a special visit and stayed for a fortnight.

Before returning to the capital, Emperor Longping named this place "Wanshou," meaning longevity.

It signifies that this place is blessed by the emperor’s visit, and thus, the emperor and his subjects should share in its fortune and longevity.

On this day, a creaky horse-drawn carriage made its way along the rural road in Wanshou Village.

With fields and paths crisscrossing the countryside, and the sounds of chickens and dogs, Xu Qing took a deep breath, halted the carriage, and asked an old farmer working in the fields for directions.

After getting confirmation, he reached out and patted the cloth-covered coffin in the carriage.

As if to wake the person asleep inside.

The horse-drawn carriage carrying the returning person passed through the village’s dirt road. The silhouette of the countryside huts and tile-roofed houses gradually emerged, drastically different from the bustling streets of Linhe District.

While Linhe District boasts of the prosperity typical of a town, even in the poorest areas, it’s rare to see thatched huts.

However, in Wanshou Village, not only were there straw thatched houses, but also courtyards made with fences of wild thorns.

It was spring, and the fruit trees planted in front of and behind the villagers’ houses were already adorned with pink blossoms.

The peach and plum flowers of different colors attracted swarms of bees and butterflies.

Such a scene was rare for Xu Qing, who slowed his pace to enjoy the blossoms along the way, feeling quite at ease.

The local villagers, accustomed to such sights, did not pay much heed to the rural scenery.

Scholars admire flowers, while the villagers look at fruit, so the saying goes.

Admiring the scenery along the way, Xu Qing had a certain elegance reminiscent of a city zombie conducting research in the countryside.

After passing a few huts and tile-roofed courtyards and fields planted with flowering rape, he saw smoke rising from the base of the mountain from a distance, indicating a village settlement.

Xu Qing urged the horse forward and, upon reaching the village entrance, saw a group of villagers noisily arguing, overhearing words like "report to the authorities," "call the witch mage," and "burn it down."

"Excuse me, sir, is Wang Qiao’s house here?"

As soon as Xu Qing spoke, the air fell silent. The villagers, like ghostly judges, stared at him with deep eyes.

An old man sitting under an ancient elm tree stood up, scrutinized him for a while, and asked in return, "Do you know Wang Qiao? Do you know where he is?"

Xu Qing raised an eyebrow, thinking that the man they were referring to was right in front of them, lying in the wrapped coffin.

However, he did not reveal this, just smiling slightly, "I was entrusted to find Wang Qiao’s family to deliver a message."

Beside him, a villager mumbled, "His wife is dead and about to turn into a consumptive ghost, endangering others. Delivering a message alone won’t help..."

Others immediately chimed in, "Don’t delay; report to the authorities and call the mage. That consumptive ghost died miserably and might harbor malicious intentions, waiting to harm others!"

On hearing this, Xu Qing frowned, but the old man beside him nodded understandingly and explained the situation, which cleared things up for Xu Qing.

It turned out Wang Qiao’s wife, Li, had died of tuberculosis the previous day. As Wang Qiao’s elderly mother and his two children took care of the funeral, Li’s corpse unexpectedly revived and wandered outside the Wang family’s courtyard.

The villagers were terrified by this unusual event and coordinated to report to the authorities or call a mage to handle it.

Xu Qing had a sudden thought—reviving corpse?

What a coincidence!

He immediately stepped forward, raised his neck, and looked around.

"You need a mage? No need to trouble yourselves; I am one!"

The villagers looked at him, doubtful that this young man without even a beard could be as skilled as a mage.

"Young man, this is no joke. That means there is a live consumptive ghost at Wang Qiao’s house!"

Xu Qing found the term "live consumptive ghost" amusing—had they faced a real zombie, they wouldn’t even know what to fear.

Without another word, he asked the villagers to lead the way, and the horse pulling the carriage followed closely behind.

The horse was clever, knowing who was skilled. It had better eyes than people!

The villagers, eager to watch but afraid of ghost entanglements, armed themselves with knives, sticks, and some even lit torches, creating a noisy procession behind Xu Qing.

Upon reaching Wang Qiao’s courtyard, Xu Qing looked back.

Oh my! The crowd stood a hundred steps away, not daring to approach.

In front of the courtyard, Li, with clouded eyes and reduced to a walking corpse, wandered aimlessly.

As Xu Qing approached, he heard her faintly muttering, "Wang Qiao... Wang Qiao..."

Li’s mouth remained tightly shut, suggesting the sound came from her chest.

"Sir, my mother never harmed anyone after death. It’s just that my father’s been away for days, and she passed away without meeting him, so she..."

Only three people were left beside Xu Qing, Wang Qiao’s elderly mother, and Qiao’s two children. Speaking now was Wang Qiao’s twelve-year-old son, Wang Liang.

Relatives, even in ghostly form, wouldn’t induce much fear, only sadness.

Seeing the dining utensils by the door, Xu Qing understood that Wang Qiao’s family still treated Li as if she were alive.

Only, unfortunately, the current Li was just a regular walking corpse sustained by a hint of death, no different from an earth-bound spirit, both bound by attachment and unable to transcend.

Xu Qing, with his keen eye from seeing many corpses, quickly identified the cause.

The next step was finding the correct remedy and prescription for the problem.

However, this prescription...

Xu Qing glanced at the tightly wrapped coffin in the carriage, then at Wang Qiao’s mother and children.

This remedy might be quite drastic. Although dealing with the dead was manageable, the living might find it hard to bear!

Alternatively, could he secretly reburied Wang Qiao elsewhere to spare the family from the pain of losing both their mother and father?

After a moment of thought, Xu Qing shook his head, rejecting the idea.

The husband had died while seeking a cure for his wife far away, while the wife deeply missed him, not knowing the truth, and died of illness. Her corpse then stood guard by the door, waiting for her husband’s return.

She had harmed no one while alive, and in death, lingering only to see the person she longed for—should this simple wish be missed?

As for Wang Qiao’s family...

The living had light extinguished upon death. It was better to endure the pain of separation early on rather than spend endless days searching for a vanished person, ultimately having no grave to visit or remember.

"Sir, can my mother be saved?"

"Yes, she will rest in peace once she sees someone."

"Who?" The elderly and children almost simultaneously inquired.

Without answering, Xu Qing pulled the coffin from the carriage and untied the wrapping, opening the coffin in front of everyone.

"Father!"

"Qiao Nan!"

Stopping the few who wanted to rush forward, Xu Qing quietly observed Li wandering at the door.

Sensing something, Li muttered Wang Qiao’s name more frequently and staggered forward, leaning over the coffin before falling silent.

Xu Qing saw clearly as Li’s tightly sealed lips opened slightly, releasing the last breath trapped in her throat, dissipating as her attachment vanished.

In the warmth of spring, northern geese flew above, and Xu Qing performed a free ritual using his own money for the affectionate couple, dressing and burying them together.

After the ritual, Xu Qing found himself with two high-quality red strings.

Anyone tied with these red strings could sense their loved one, no matter the distance.

Being alone, Xu Qing had no one to tie them to and casually wrapped the strings around his left and right wrists.

He then noticed his hands subconsciously sitting tightly together, even in weather that wasn’t cold enough to need it, despite being a zombie unafraid of the cold.

Realizing having his hands so close wasn’t practical, Xu Qing frustratedly tossed both strings into the Mountain and River Map for peace.