Chapter Nineteen: Are You Perhaps a Sneaky Dealer?

The villagers had no idea he was a seal-script Daoist, allowed to marry, and they all burst out laughing, saying, “Master Zuo, you’re such a joker! Since when can a Daoist take a wife? Stop fooling around, we’re busy plowing the fields here.”

Zuo, the fat man, was livid. He threw his stick down and stormed off in a huff.

I felt secretly delighted.

That damned fatso had been so smug, tricking me into this village to deal with the old chief’s corpse for fifty thousand in his pocket. Now, when things are getting out of hand, he wants to run. Sister Jiu had me endure the baneful curse for twenty years, and in an instant, he ruined it all—who would we turn to now? If the villagers suffer, who can help them?

But judging from his temper, the incense ritual just now must have worked.

After all, Daoists value accountability above all.

Once inside, Zuo lay sprawled in the grandmaster’s chair, puffed up with rage, waiting for me.

I asked, “Still mad, are you?”

“Mad? Damn right I am! I can handle corpses, but you, a treasure suppressor, haven’t a single skill. How are you supposed to extract the spirit essence from the Golden Leopard Frog? Are we seriously going to die together?” he snapped, his face dark.

I was a little embarrassed by his criticism.

Everyone has their expertise.

Zuo could deal with corpses, but the Golden Leopard Frog clearly wasn’t his field.

“Let’s do this—solve the corpse first, I’ll try to handle the frog. If I die, you run. This started because of me. If I do nothing and let the villagers suffer, I couldn’t live with myself. If I have to die, then let it be quick. Whatever happens, happens,” I sighed, resigned.

“Well, well, look at you—turns out you’re a real man. Fine, I’ll risk my life for you this once!” Zuo agreed readily.

Just as we were talking, a filthy, scab-covered woman’s face peeked in from the courtyard.

It was Junjun’s mother!

She stared at us with venomous eyes for a while, then said, “Grandpa Yellow River told me just now someone messed with the river treasure last night. The old locust tree at the Wax Road will cry, the Xie Family boy will die first, the fat man will die, the whole village will die... hahahaha!” After speaking, she spat at us a few times and hobbled off.

You can’t reason with a lunatic, so we could only watch her go.

After she left, we discussed what to do. Zuo couldn’t swim, so he had to go back to town to buy some diving gear. Though I said I’d handle the Golden Leopard Frog, truthfully, I had no clue. I needed to get back to the pharmacy. Old Guan was from the Treasure Suppressor’s Guild of Lingnan; he should have some tools stashed away, or maybe I could find information about the Golden Leopard Frog.

Better to cram at the last minute than charge in blindly.

Back in town, as I got out of the car, Zuo tossed me a talisman, saying that ever since the old chief blew on me, the dark aura around my brow not only hadn’t faded, but had thickened. Without him by my side, ghosts would gnaw me to nothing. I felt a bit grateful—maybe he wasn’t entirely heartless after all—just about to thank him, when he said, “Five thousand. Deduct it from your herbs later.”

Damn him!

At this rate, my pharmacy would go bankrupt from his extortion!

I opened the shop and searched upstairs and downstairs for ages, not finding even a feather. Just as I was feeling dejected, I suddenly remembered that when Tong Tianwang brought me here, he’d given Old Guan a box—nearly forgot about it, and who knows what treasures might be inside.

I hurried to the basement, cleared away thick spider webs, and found the wooden box in a pile of old junk. I broke the lock open with a hammer. Inside was a heap of things I’d never seen before.

The top layer consisted of odd tools made from various materials. In the middle was a glass jar, sealed tight, containing some unknown liquid that hadn’t dried up despite the years. But what excited me most was a book at the bottom—the paper was soft, like tofu skin, with a faint fragrance, made from some unknown material. The title, written in ancient seal script: “Lingnan Treasure Suppressor’s Handbook.”

Heart pounding, I hurriedly flipped it open.

No author, just fine, tiny writing.

The first page bore four words: “Chief of Thieves, Trickster Supreme.”

My breathing quickened, feeling as if I was about to touch the footprints of my ancestors, following their path into the mysterious, uncanny world of treasure suppression—lifting the veil of beautiful Sister Jiu, telling her that little Pi missed her.

Second page: “Consult using the sect’s secret method.”

Pages three through the end: blank.

I nearly spat blood. Use the sect’s secret method?

What secret method?!

Just as frustration welled up in my chest, I heard pounding at the pharmacy door. Someone outside shouted, “Xie Xiaopi, get your butt out here!”

I quickly closed the box and ran downstairs.

Opening the door, I saw Widow Shen from next door, hands on her hips, chest heaving, glaring at me with round, angry eyes.

Widow Shen was my neighbor. Widowed for years, she was still shapely, exuding the mature charm of a woman in her prime—one of those “rain after drought” types. When Old Guan was alive, she didn’t seem special, but after he passed and I was left as the only man in the pharmacy, she often came by to chat, wearing sheer nightgowns, swaying in front of me, regularly inviting me to her room to watch movies.

I was young and full of energy—how could I resist?

Once, I gave in and went to watch a movie with her, only to discover Old Guan’s treasured iron walnuts and some intimate clothing in her room. I admired Old Guan’s enduring vigor, but made up a reason to leave.

She’d been quite aroused that night, but I extinguished her spark with my abrupt departure. Since then, she’d held a grudge and never missed a chance to pick a fight.

Today, who knows what trouble she was up to.

I grinned and said, “Shen, I’m busy—no time for movies.”

Widow Shen snapped, “Movies? You little scoundrel! Always pretending to be proper, but you’re rotten inside. You cut a huge hole in the wall to my bathroom—planning to come in and scrub me down?”

I was utterly wronged!

Sure, I was no saint, but I still had my limits. Old Guan had been so kind to me—if I’d done something like that, I wouldn’t be able to face him in the afterlife.

Neighbors gathered, amused by the commotion.

“Shen, don’t make things up. I haven’t been in the pharmacy for days—how could I make a hole?” I hurried to explain.

“Save it! The hole’s been there for half a year. Don’t deny it! You probably know how many moles I have. How am I ever going to remarry?” She wouldn’t relent.

Judging by her rage, she wasn’t faking.

Half a year?

I blurted out, “Could it have been Old Guan who made the hole, and you forgot?”

The neighbors burst out laughing.

Widow Shen’s face turned crimson. She charged over, grabbed my ear, and yelled, “Xie Xiaopi, doing filthy things and blaming a dead man—have you no shame?” She dragged me toward her room, barking, “Open your eyes and look!”

I couldn’t very well fight a widow, so I let her pull me along, head tilted.

In her bathroom, sure enough, there was a massive hole leading to the pharmacy—big enough for a person to crawl through.

I was just about to ask when suddenly the bathroom door slammed shut. Turning, I saw Widow Shen removing her outer clothes, eyes smoldering: “Just looking isn’t enough—today I’ll play with you!”

“Shen, don’t mess with me—I’m still young!”

I was startled, backing away.

“Young or not, only one way to find out. Don’t worry, I’m not picky.”

She laughed, undressing faster.

I thought, time to escape! I spun and dove for the hole.

Unexpectedly, my head slammed into a wall. The hole was gone!

Stunned, I saw Widow Shen grinning, forcibly straightening me. Her strength was immense. I was sprawled on the floor, dizzy, and she quickly pressed herself on top.

Suddenly, a flash of light crossed my chest. There was a scream, the pressure lifted, and Widow Shen vanished into thin air.

What was happening?!

I struggled up. At the door, several unfamiliar men were moving things, shirtless. They looked at me, puzzled, asking what I was doing there.

I asked them, “Where’s Widow Shen? Where did she go?”

They looked at me as if I were mad. “She died after a drinking binge days ago. We’re moving things for her family. Are you some kind of thief?”