Chapter Twenty: Disposing of Stolen Goods and Vanishing Without a Trace

The one who killed Di the Leper was, of course, Ying Chen.

After ending Di’s life, Ying Chen did not linger for a moment at the scene. Rather than returning to Red Water Cliff, he shifted direction and made his way back to the Cloud Boat Market.

He wandered the market for a while, keeping a low profile, before slipping into a shadowy alley and seeking out a deeply hidden shop.

Behind the counter stood two life-sized paper effigies, their thin bodies upright, cheeks painted with vivid red, eyes hollow and eerie—a sight that sent a chill down one’s spine.

When someone entered, the two paper figures turned in unison to face him. One opened its mouth—a slit as though cut by scissors, emitting a voice from no clear source—asking, “Honored guest, what business brings you here?”

Ying Chen bowed and replied, “I hear this place can break the seals on storage pouches.”

In this world, cultivators are countless. None can guarantee their own survival, nor do any wish their possessions to fall into another’s hands upon death. Thus, most storage pouches are sealed with enchantments.

Di the Leper’s pouch was no exception. Its restriction was identical to Ying Chen’s own, a common pattern in Red Water Cliff—a circuit of a few dozen nodes, which could be undone by channeling power through them in a particular order.

Unfortunately, Ying Chen had no idea what sequence Di had used, nor how to break it. He could only seek help.

That was why he had hurried back in the night, for he knew well that such deeds required swift, decisive action—and, once done, a swift disappearance.

If he did not quickly “dispose of the goods,” he would have to wait for rumors to rise and fall—and who knew how long that might be.

The talkative paper figure shifted slightly and said, “Your business.”

The other seemed quieter, merely shaking its head and saying, “Just place it here, honored guest.”

Ying Chen kept his composure, took out Di’s storage pouch, and placed it on the counter.

This pouch bore the sigils of Red Water Cliff. Though he had heard the shop never meddled in affairs, Ying Chen still felt a faint unease.

Yet the paper figures showed no reaction, simply grabbing the pouch and shaking their heads again, as if examining it. After about a quarter of an hour, a faint gleam flickered across the pouch.

The paper figure set the pouch back on the counter and declared, “One spirit stone!”

That price was not cheap.

Ying Chen felt a pang of loss as he handed over his last remaining funds. The two paper figures immediately flashed eerie smiles and sang in unison, “Thank you, honored guest!”

Without a word, Ying Chen took the pouch, didn’t bother to inspect it, and strode out of the unsettling shop.

As he left, the paper figures dropped their smiles. The talkative one suddenly remarked, “Quite bold, to kill one of Red Water Cliff’s own.”

“So what? The killer might be a member himself,” replied the other, shaking its head. “We took extra payment—the vengeance is done.”

...

Ying Chen, of course, knew nothing of the exchange inside the shop.

But he was well aware of the risks of his actions. Only after leaving the alley did he allow himself a slight breath of relief.

He didn’t linger at the Cloud Boat Market, instead slipping away under cover of night, riding his ghost steed at full speed straight back to Red Water Cliff.

Taking the less-traveled paths, he returned to his own courtyard. Without hesitation, he kindled a fire, tore off the painted skin, and threw it in.

It was just a painted skin, and though it had been in his possession only two days, Ying Chen had no regrets.

He burned the black clothing as well. Thus, the murderer of Di the Leper vanished utterly from the world.

Ying Chen knew this was not perfect, but Red Water Cliff would not stir up trouble over a single disciple—especially a dead one.

And Di the Leper was a mediocre sort with no promise; what he had done was more than enough.

Having tidied up the loose ends, Ying Chen finally returned indoors and opened Di’s storage pouch.

At a glance, he could not keep the smile from his lips.

Di the Leper was no ordinary henchman; his wealth was impressive!

Ying Chen counted: there were more than ten spirit stones, with less talisman money scattered about—likely for daily use.

Just these alone more than compensated Ying Chen’s losses, doubling his worth, which delighted him.

“Indeed, one cannot become rich without unexpected windfalls, nor can a horse grow fat without grazing at night. No wonder some are willing to risk their necks for such plunder.”

Having spoken to himself, Ying Chen shook his head, warning himself not to become addicted to the thrill of sudden fortune.

It was far too dangerous!

People stumble, horses trip; do this too often and one day you’ll fall hard, losing your life.

He calmed his mind, sorted through Di’s possessions, and disposed of what he couldn’t use—Di’s clothing, the outer disciple’s token.

The token still held some sect contribution, but such contributions could not be transferred. Keeping it would only invite trouble.

With all that done, Ying Chen settled down to cultivate for two days.

On the third day, he attended the lecture hall, listening to a sect class, seeming always to follow the rules and cultivate quietly.

By the fifth day, with no rumors stirring, Ying Chen visited the pill room, purchased a stalk of green ganoderma of suitable age and properties, and acquired an unremarkable pill furnace.

Thus, he had all he needed to prepare the “Three Ganoderma Moon Blossom Powder.”

Before beginning, Ying Chen carefully reviewed all twelve medical books, ensuring nothing was overlooked, then began preparing the herbs as required.

He sorted the herbs—soaking some in water, roasting others over a gentle flame, cutting, pounding, grinding… It took the entire day to finish.

It was slow, first because some herbs, like the green ganoderma, had to be soaked for six hours before grinding into powder.

Second, this was Ying Chen’s first attempt; despite countless mental rehearsals, he still made mistakes.

Third, the recipe for “Three Ganoderma Moon Blossom Powder” specified that all prepared herbs must be set beneath the moonlight to absorb its essence before the furnace could be lit.

After nearly a full day of toil, Ying Chen finally laid out all the herbs under the moon, covering them with a drawn talisman.

Herbs cannot absorb moonlight on their own without the aid of a cultivator’s methods—otherwise, they would have become spirits long ago.