Chapter 67: Soul-Shattering Jade Banquet (Part 5): I Want to Drown My Sorrows in Wine. Part 2

Mu Qian Tan gave her a few more glances before casting a simple illusion spell on the two of them. She slipped past Shang Shan’s side and found Azure Bamboo Garden in Rice Food Lane.

The moment the guards at the entrance saw her, they let out several surprised “Eh?”s. When they spotted the charred corpse, they jolted in fright. After hearing her purpose, the guard’s face lit up more colorfully than fireworks at New Year’s. He hurriedly dashed into the garden, shouting at the top of his lungs to report.

Before he could return, Mu Qian Tan stepped over the threshold and arrived before a wide expanse of verdant bamboo groves.

Quite a few people gathered here—scattered cultivators, civil officials, martial artists—all busy with their own tasks, some squatting, some sitting, the air filled with a hubbub of noise. People in various colored attire wove through the bamboo, with a few green leaves caught in their hair or on their shoulders. Nearby racks held numerous lunchboxes, with scraps of paper scattered everywhere.

The county official fanned himself with a palm leaf fan as he approved documents at the foremost table. He cursed to the side, “How much longer has it been? Still no news at all!”

The messenger ran back and bellowed, silencing everyone.

Had they caught the fierce corpse?

As gazes converged, Mu Qian Tan slid her palm forward, and the corpse floated into the midst of the crowd. The civil officials took one look at the corpse’s gruesome state and vomited on the spot. The martial officials couldn’t bear to look straight at it, while the scattered cultivators covered their noses and sized up the two women.

The two women, one tall and one small, stood there perfectly fine, yet people couldn’t quite make them out, as if shrouded in a hazy fog that blurred their features. They couldn’t recognize who they were. Even if they memorized the faces, a quick glance down made them forget again. They wondered if the women had used some illusion spell.

The county official jumped to his feet and slapped the table. “Quick, quick, go examine that corpse!”

A coroner straightened his black hat and stepped forward on command. He had meant to ask the visitors to place the corpse on the ground, but one look at their cold, inhuman expressions made him swallow his words. He simply drew his knife and got to work. After slicing into the flesh and inspecting for a moment, he furrowed his brows uncertainly. “We heard the perpetrator was a woman, but these bones… they look like a man’s.”

Mu Qian Tan said coolly, “Are you sure?”

That gaze was icy cold. The coroner saw how she could make the corpse float with a flick of her fingers—strangling him probably wouldn’t even take any strength, just a twitch of her throat. He gulped and said, “This lowly one must have seen wrong. Let me take another look.”

Whispers rippled through the crowd. Mu Qian Tan said, “Look carefully.”

The pelvis, the bone surfaces—all the details pointed more and more toward a man. But immortals were far superior to him; they surely wouldn’t make a mistake. Besides, women with male-like bone structures existed. And if he spoke wrongly and earned her grudge, he was done for.

Convincing himself otherwise and weighing his options, the coroner declared, “It’s a woman, no doubt.”

Mu Qian Tan glanced casually at Shang Shan, who ducked her head a little lower.

The county official asked, “Is it the fierce corpse?”

A scattered cultivator stepped forward, rolled up his sleeves, and examined the body. Full of confidence at first, hoping to show off before the official, doubt crept onto his face afterward, growing deeper. His eyes darted up and to the left, as if recalling his knowledge. In the end, he cupped his hands and said, “Forgive my impertinence, but may I ask for your immortal title, esteemed one?”

Mu Qian Tan replied, “I am called Silver Snake, from the Taihang Feng Clan. You all should have heard of my family.”

The scattered cultivators in the corner, watching the excitement, all drew sharp breaths in unison.

Heard of them? They were thunderously famous!

The Taihang Feng Clan—one of the Five Great Immortal Sects, long haunted by the curse god, a ghostly family that cultivated curses and unorthodox demonic paths. Their disciples were each more vicious and ruthless than the last! Who would dare provoke someone from their house?

Though the name Silver Snake wasn’t familiar, the pure spiritual power surging around the corpse proved this person’s profound cultivation. Coming from a great clan made sense.

The scattered cultivator’s face changed drastically. After the shock, he plastered on a smiling face and said respectfully, “I just examined it. This corpse is indeed the fierce corpse, no mistake!”

Sighs of admiration rose and fell throughout the garden. Someone asked, “For an immortal from the Taihang Feng Clan to come to this small city to capture the fierce corpse—truly diligent.”

The remark was merely a sigh, but it puzzled the listeners. The county official’s reward was paltry; how could it draw an immortal from a great clan?

Mu Qian Tan explained, “My disciple is still young and needs some real-world experience.”

Everyone understood, and a chorus of agreement followed. The young girl beside her must be the disciple. Bringing a pupil out for training naturally had nothing to do with the reward.

Mu Qian Tan added at the right moment, “Now that I’ve brought the fierce corpse, the city can rest easy. You can lift the curfew. But beware of other evil creatures entering. When I caught the fierce corpse, I checked the city’s magic array. Those resistance methods are basically useless against evil things.”

“Opening the gates so wide—even if the glamour corpse crisis is over, other evil creatures will sneak in. Waiting until a case arises to handle it is just locking the barn after losing the sheep.”

The county official responded excitedly, “Yes, the immortal speaks wisely! This official will follow your advice from now on!”

Cheers and applause filled the garden in unison, celebrating the fierce corpse’s capture and the city’s newfound safety. In this heated atmosphere, no one questioned where she’d caught it, how, or its origins—as if those crucial details suddenly didn’t matter.

Mu Qian Tan glanced at the girl beside her again. Shang Shan buried her head even lower, her ears turning red behind.

Amid the laughter and praise, some cowered from a bit of pressure and wouldn’t speak truth; some flattered without question; some harbored resentment but still smiled obsequiously. They moved in perfect sync, as if it were routine. Only she seemed like the one child, endlessly ashamed of the adults’ failings.

With the major matter settled, the county official grinned widely, wanting to invite the immortal to sample the city’s famous restaurants. Mu Qian Tan politely declined, saying she had family matters to attend to. She’d only come to report the fierce corpse eliminated—no need to worry—and to collect the reward for her shy disciple.

Hearing this, the county official fetched a bag of money, at least twice the promised amount. “For the child to spend freely.” Mu Qian Tan accepted with thanks and tossed the bag into Shang Shan’s arms.

Before leaving, she emphasized again: if issues with the murderer arose, seek out the Taihang Feng Clan.

She said this because the fierce corpse in the garden was fake, but the one in the city was truly dead—she wasn’t lying. And regarding the demon seal, even if they dared come knocking, the Feng clansmen would cover it up and handle it quietly. No need for her to worry.

With such assurance, the county official beamed even more, calling her a great virtuous immortal. Mu Qian Tan’s brow arched slightly as she listened silently. She waved it off with a few hypocritical “as it should be”s before taking her leave.

After leaving Azure Bamboo Garden, Mu Qian Tan walked the empty streets and asked, “Is this bag of money heavy?”

The girl kept her head down, unwilling to speak. Mu Qian Tan reached out and patted the back of her head. “Don’t play dead.”

Shang Shan stumbled and nearly fell but steadied herself before murmuring, “Heavy.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Money earned by lying weighs the same as money earned honestly, and spends the same. What does that tell you?”

Shang Shan replied, “That money is always money.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “People are always people, just people. Good and bad make no difference; dead and alive are the same.”

After a moment of silence, Shang Shan looked up. “I don’t understand.”

Her lips pouted slightly, brows furrowed like a deeply aggrieved puppy. Her eyes were dazed, as if rimed with tiny ice crystals—clear yet inscrutable.

Mu Qian Tan turned her gaze to the street ahead and said offhandedly, “If you don’t get it, don’t. I don’t want to lecture you anyway.”

Shang Shan clutched the money bag. “Can I spend this money?”

Assuming she wanted to buy something, Mu Qian Tan asked casually, “What do you need so much money for?”

Shang Shan said, “I want to give it to that Old Granny.”

Mu Qian Tan thought back for a moment before remembering—the Old Granny whose son had died miserably. She stopped, took the bag back, and weighed it in her palm.

Shang Shan didn’t resist, letting her take it as her brows drooped.

Mu Qian Tan said, “Just give it to her directly?”

Shang Shan said, “Yeah. She has no son now, no one to care for her, and she needs money for medicine.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “She’s old, with poor eyesight and hearing. Can she guard so much money? If bad people see it, it’ll stir their greed.”

After the Wen Family banquet hall and Azure Bamboo Garden, Shang Shan was utterly demoralized, her thinking drained. She was like a soaked puppy, not knowing what to do, how to do it, or where to go. Mu Qian Tan’s scolding barely stirred her emotions; she just hung her head and took it.

Mu Qian Tan tossed the bag back and frowned. “What a sorry state… Count the money in the bag, then tell the coffin shop owner it’s double that amount. Give him this as half, and tell him to take good care of that granny. When we come back next time, give him the other half. That way, he won’t take the money upfront and abandon her later. Got it?”

Shang Shan cradled the money and asked, “Why say it’s double?”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Can’t you use your brain a little? Claim it’s double, give half now. Tell the coffin shop owner to care for the granny, and he’ll get the rest next time. Understand?”

Shang Shan gripped the bag, her eyes sliding upward hesitantly. “Will we come back next time?”

Two sentences from her, and Mu Qian Tan’s wound throbbed with anger. She snapped, “Don’t you know?”

Shang Shan shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Then the coffin shop owner won’t know either. Just say it that way. So much nonsense.”

Mu Qian Tan didn’t want to waste more words on this idiot. She’d meant for the brain-damaged dragon to witness true human darkness, but ended up playing mentor. How pointless. She turned and headed back to the inn alone.

Seeing her leave, Shang Shan called out louder, “What if we don’t come back for a long time and he spends all the money and abandons the Old Granny?”

The woman’s voice drifted back from afar. “That old lady is sick. How much longer can she live? If he spends it all before she does, that’s already good.”

Ignoring the person behind her, Mu Qian Tan returned to the inn, went straight to her room, lay on the bed to rest a bit, then got up to change the dressing on her wound.

Wincing through the pain, she tore off the old gauze. As she poured medicine onto the new one, she recalled who had given her the medicine and wondered quietly. She’d slipped away unnoticed for now, but if Panxiang Yin found out, who knew what she’d say later.

Whatever, if she said something, so be it.

After applying the medicine to the wound, wrapping it around her waist, Mu Qian Tan lay back heavily on the bed, relaxed her body, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

The pitch-black ceiling gradually coalesced in her vision into the image of that charred corpse. A stench rose to her nose, and she bolted upright to retch a few times. With nothing in her stomach, she dry-heaved, but her gut burned all the same.

When she’d first entered this world, seeing a corpse in a coffin made her dizzy. Now, seeing one burned like that only made her dry-heave. She had made progress, undeniably.

In a bit more time, she might even face it without flinching.

She sat on the bed’s edge to rest a while longer, sighed, then went down to call for hot water. She took a towel, soaked it, and gave herself a quick, thorough bath. Only then did she feel refreshed.

When the waiter came to carry the bath bucket downstairs, the door stood half-open. Shang Shan happened to return, passing by with a familiar black jar in her arms, vanishing in a flash.

What was that?

Once the waiter left, Mu Qian Tan remembered—it was a rice wine jar.

She had indeed seen rice wine at the coffin shop during the day. Who knew sending her to deliver money would lead to hauling this back? Mu Qian Tan couldn’t tolerate her going crazy drunk. She marched to Shang Shan’s door and kicked it open without ceremony, saying sternly, “Who said you could drink?”

Shang Shan sat on the floor, legs wrapped around the rice wine jar. She held up five copper coins. “I didn’t use your money this time. I used the five coins from the Gao Family. The grandpa wouldn’t take them, so I bought it myself.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “So what?”

Shang Shan said, “So I can drink it. It’s mine.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Are you sick? You have to drink?”

Shang Shan mumbled, “I want to drown my sorrows in wine.”

Last time, drowning sorrows meant water disguised as wine. This time with real rice wine—progress. Mu Qian Tan gripped the doorframe and pointed at her. “Do what you want, but if you get drunk and bother me, don’t.”