Song Ciwan had given it a lot of thought. In truth, she had many ways to make money.
Practical methods like sugar production, salt refining, and distilling crude liquor were all prime ventures—easy to implement and capable of turning a small investment into a quick, large profit.
Unfortunately, earning money in this world was no great feat; the real skill was keeping it.
Whether it was salt, liquor, or sugar, the bottom line was simple: go ahead and get involved, if you weren't afraid to die.
Song Ciwan felt there was no need to make life difficult for herself. 'I'm determined to just lay low, so why would I go looking for trouble? What's the point?'
But she was genuinely short on cash, and some things just had to be done. Salt, liquor, and sugar were off-limits, but there had to be something she *could* touch.
After returning home from work one day, Song Ciwan once again sold off Malice in exchange for Lifespan.
[You have sold eight taels and four qian of Malice, gaining eighty years of Lifespan.]
With the eighty years of Lifespan she earned today, plus what she had accumulated previously, Song Ciwan's total Lifespan balance was now one thousand two hundred and thirty years.
This wasn't just some vague number, but a distinct sensation.
The more she used the Heaven and Earth Scale, the tighter her connection to it felt, allowing her to perceive many things with ever-increasing clarity.
Things like her Lifespan balance, for instance, or the complete contents of the space within the Heaven and Earth Scale.
Song Ciwan performed another routine trade, selling a serving of Stir-fried Pork Intestines for a Strengthening Pill, then settled in at home to wait for nightfall.
The Big White Goose strutted around the courtyard, its neck held high. Song Ciwan sat under the eaves, tossing out corn kernels. With a "GAK," the goose would snatch one up, happily flapping its wings each time it made a successful catch. It was clearly quite pleased with this game.
As night fell, lights began to twinkle on one by one across the city, their delicate glow dotting the darkness. Song Ciwan went back to her room and changed into a set of black clothes.
She donned the black clothes, a crudely stitched Human Skin Mask, and finally, a cloak.
She activated Escape into the Night, and in an instant, her entire being melted into the evening shadows.
The Big White Goose, having just finished digesting its meal, was lying lazily in its coop. It was completely unaware that its master, who had just gone back to her room, had in fact drifted away like a wisp of night wind from right under its beak.
「South of the city, Liuquan Street.」
Bright lanterns swayed under the starry night sky. Liuquan Street's night market was a bustling, clamorous affair. Wine banners fluttered, Dancing Girls twirled, children ran about, and wealthy patrons shouted for servants while spending money like water...
"Bravo!"
"Encore! One more!"
A burst of excited cheers suddenly erupted in front of the Drunken Fresh Residence. There, on a raised, three-story platform, a Dancing Girl spun and soared through the air. Her figure was slender and graceful, her every leap and bound as elegant as a startled swan in flight. She seemed less a dancer of the Mortal World and more like a Celestial Palace Fairy.
More and more people were drawn in. They watched, utterly mesmerized, and couldn't help but start murmuring, "She's no ordinary Dancing Girl, is she? I heard she's a disciple of Qionghua Pavilion. The people from the Drunken Fresh Residence invited her to Su Yang while she was Traveling through Cangling County."
"The Drunken Fresh Residence is truly impressive, managing to invite even a disciple of Qionghua Pavilion. I wonder if they could get someone from one of Qionghua Pavilion's Eight Great Families?"
"Now that's just wishful thinking. They're disciples of an Upper Sect; it's already a huge feat to invite two or three. You want to see the Eight Great Families? Why don't you go home tonight and have your wife prop your pillow up another three inches so you can dream bigger?"
"Get outta here! What a thing to say..."
The crowd roared with laughter and surged forward. The threshold of the Drunken Fresh Residence was in danger of being trampled to splinters.
Yet no one noticed the other restaurant just a short distance away, diagonally opposite the Drunken Fresh Residence. This building was also three stories tall, its five-bay facade once built to be spacious and grand. Unfortunately, its entrance was now desolate. Of the entire row of lanterns hanging under the eaves, only a single one was lit.
One lonely, desolate lamp illuminated a solitary figure sitting inside the main hall.
This man's name was Yan Hanzhang. He was the owner of this Dingfeng Building, a Scholar, and what's more, a down-and-out Scholar.
The Yan Family's ancestors had once been prosperous. They had even produced an Innate Martial Artist, leaving behind a considerable estate in Su Yang City.
But alas, his descendants were a disappointment. In the mere ten-odd years since that Innate Ancestor passed away, the vast family fortune had been all but squandered. All that remained was this single restaurant, which Yan Hanzhang was struggling to keep afloat.
Yan Hanzhang, too, was at the end of his rope. He sat listlessly in the main hall. Then, without warning, his mouth flew open.
"COUGH! COUGH COUGH COUGH!" Yan Hanzhang broke into a gut-wrenching coughing fit, so violent it brought tears to his eyes. The shadows in the hall seemed to dance with the spasms.
Yan Hanzhang clutched his chest, curled up in his chair like a dying fish trying to save itself, twitching uselessly.
"Elder Sister..." he mumbled. "I don't think I can hold on any longer. You... you must live a good life with the Xu Family..."
As he said this, he fumbled inside his wide sleeve and pulled out a length of white silk.
Yan Hanzhang was going to hang himself from the rafters in the main hall! He hoped that after death, he would become a vengeful spirit and devour all those who coveted the Yan Family's last remaining assets. Powerless in life, his only wish was for revenge in death!
A gust of night wind stirred, causing the dim yellow lantern under the eaves to sway ominously.
The light could not penetrate the gloomy hall. Yan Hanzhang slipped his head into the noose he had fashioned from the silk. His feet left the floor. Instantly, the sensation of suffocation crashed down on him, overwhelming and absolute.
Yan Hanzhang: "Mmph... mmph..."
He had underestimated the agony of death. He had been so determined to die, but now that the moment was here, he began to struggle instinctively!
White light flashed before his eyes. It felt as if his very soul was being torn from his body, drifting away. A silent scream ripped from Yan Hanzhang's throat: "Ah! Ahhh—"
His head craned back and his eyes bulged, the dark red capillaries threatening to burst.
In his death throes, he saw a smoke-like black shadow drift down from the rafter before him.
'What... what is that?'
The black shadow was like an intangible wisp of wind, yet also like a tangible piece of gauze. It swirled before him in the darkness, and the silk sash snapped.
THUD!
Yan Hanzhang came crashing to the floor.
But he had no time to feel relief at his survival, nor frustration at his failure to die. In that moment, all other emotions gave way to terror. He scrambled backward on all fours, his voice trembling as he stammered, "Who... what are you?"
'What thing? What person? Or what kind of Demon or monster?'
The black shadow drifted toward him. A voice, ethereal and dispassionate, devoid of any emotional inflection, sounded in his ear. "I am the supremely impartial and just Nameless Divine Venerable. Offer up your soul, your wealth, and your loyalty. In return, you shall gain everything."
"This... this..."
Yan Hanzhang's eyes widened. For a single instant, clarity cut through the fear and confusion clouding his mind. 'This shadow... it said if I offer my soul, wealth, and loyalty, I'll gain everything?'
'What kind of "everything"? Does that include revenge?'
'In truth, I have nothing left to lose. I don't even want my own life anymore. Becoming a ghost after death is an uncertain prospect, but this... if I can seize this opportunity, who's to say it won't be the turning point I need?'
Trembling all over, Yan Hanzhang scrambled to his feet. "Wealth! I have... I have wealth..."
He dashed from the front hall into the rear courtyard. In the dim light, he burst into a room and began to frantically rummage through chests and cabinets.
Under the bed, in crevices in the wall, in the hidden compartments of cabinets... Yan Hanzhang searched high and low, pulling out several small boxes. He opened them all; most were empty, but the few that weren't contained nothing but the glint of silver.
When gathered together, the silver amounted to about 350 taels. There were also two deeds: one for the restaurant building and one for the land it stood on.
Yan Hanzhang grew ashamed and apprehensive. "I... this is all I have... What... what can I get for it?"
The black shadow, which had been following him like a second skin, suddenly swirled. The silver in the box vanished instantly. A porcelain bottle and an old, yellowed slip of paper covered in messy handwriting dropped into the box in its place.
He reached for them with a trembling hand. On the porcelain bottle were three characters: Fertility Pill!
His heart pounded wildly; he almost cried out in alarm.