The cramped little room was filled with various foul slls.
He ca the day before yesterday.
In almost two days, four or five people died in the little room, including an old man who passed away yesterday, and his body hadn’t been taken away yet.
So hungry, so thirsty.
The old man coughed, trying to get up, but he was too old, every inch of skin, every bit of flesh on his body was in intense pain.
He couldn’t even sit up.
"Old Chen, is this our destiny?" the old man asked his sick companion beside him, but there was no response.
Another gone.
No food, only so water delivered daily, for these already critically ill people, surviving two or three days was considered fortunate.
So much pain.
In the small room, it seed... was he the only one alive?
Zhong Mountain sighed softly, not really blaming his sons, just a bit worried if his granddaughter was okay.
"What a sin.... "
He closed his eyes, quietly waiting for death to co.
’Creak’
The door to the makeshift morgue was pushed open.
Is it ti to deliver water?
Why so early today?
Zhong Mountain pondered, whether to drink or not seed to make little difference, only a matter of dying tonight or tomorrow morning.
Every extra minute of living was a tornt.
The old man continued to lie quietly, but soon heard footsteps coming towards him,
He struggled to open his eyes and looked at the approaching figure.
It was a masked person, and in the dim little room, their form was indistinct.
"Zhong Mountain?"
The masked person rasped.
"Who.....are you?" Zhong Mountain asked curiously, not fearing them.
He wasn’t even afraid of death.
"You may call ... True Man." Zhang Fusheng spoke in a low voice. True Man was a codena he casually adopted after learning of the existence of [Taoism].
Originally, he wanted to call himself Celestial Venerate, because the na Fusheng fit well with Celestial Venerate.
Fusheng Infinite Celestial Venerate, a Taoist prayer phrase, similar to monks chanting ’Namo Amitabha’.
But then he thought it better not to adopt such codenas arbitrarily in this world...
So, True Man was quite nice, not transgressing anything.
"True Man..." Zhong Mountain paused, an unexpected glimr appeared in his cloudy eyes.
"Are you a person from Taoism?"
This ti, it was Zhang Fusheng who was surprised; Zhong Mountain knew about Taoism?
Well, an eighty-year-old man, and a martial artist, it made sense he would know. After all, even his dad heard about [Taoism] and [The Three Pristine Ones] from a friend.
He didn’t directly answer Zhong Mountain, instead spoke in a low voice:
"Do you know much about Taoism?"
The old man lay on the sickbed, shaking his head with effort:
"I ca into contact, but am not familiar, True Man... are you from Eastern Taoism or Western Taoist Evil Cult?"
Zhang Fusheng was a bit confused, was there an East and West distinction?
He spoke in a low voice:
"Why ask?"
"Indeed."
Zhong Mountain managed a difficult smile:
"I’m close to death, it matters not whether you’re an eminent figure of Eastern Taoism or a sinister follower of Western Taoist Evil Cult, but this being Ankang Hospital, you must be from the Western Taoist Evil Cult, right?"
Eastern Taoism, eminent figure.
Western Taoist Evil Cult, sinister follower?
No, it should be Western Taoism, but Zhong Mountain labeled it as ’evil’.
What was the relation with Ankang Hospital?
Zhang Fusheng was thoughtful, gazing at Zhong Mountain:
"I’m here to make a deal with you."
"Deal? A dying person like , what’s there to deal?" Zhong Mountain spoke calmly: "With the title of True Man, you must be an existence beyond my imagination, there’s nothing I possess that could interest you."
"There is."
The masked person’s voice suddenly grew solemn, accompanied by a trace of thunder.
Zhong Mountain looked at him in astonishnt,
In a daze, it seed as if this self-proclaid [True Man] masked man was..... glowing?
Not just glowing, but radiating an essence of life and death, decay and renewal, exuding a unique solemnity and dignity.
"You have lived eighty-four years; your fate is at its end, and your lifespan is terminating. Yet, do you have unfulfilled wishes?"
The whispered words, laced with thunder, drifted into Zhong Mountain’s ears.
His muddled mind cleared slightly:
"What exactly do you want to do?"
"Deal, trade."
Zhang Fusheng used the Spring Thunder Technique and White Bone Observation, uttering sounds like thunder, his bones glowing faintly, contemplating the cycle of life and decay within himself, montarily a skeleton, then in an instant, whole with flesh, skin crystalline.
"The years you suffered practicing the Contemplation Technique and Breathing Technique, the era when you absorbed mysterious factors, the tis you tempered your body and trained with fists and feet."
"Also, your true na, face, and body."
"I wish to purchase them all."
"As for the price, it shall be the resolution of your unresolved regrets and unfulfilled wishes, how about it?"
Zhong Mountain listened blankly, inexplicably feeling a chilling sense of dread.
"True na, appearance, body..."
He coughed violently again, spitting out dark black blood.
"What if my wish is to continue living?"
As he spoke, Zhong Mountain saw this masked man, whose aura was constantly coming to life and fading away, and whose skin radiated a bright glow, shake his head:
"Your fate is sealed, your lifespan is over, your na has been erased from the Book of Life and Death, and the Soul Hooking Impermanence is on its way. There’s no saving you."
"The Book of Life and Death, Soul Hooking Impermanence..." He didn’t understand what these were, but they sounded mysterious and unfathomable.
"Then if I want my few unfilial sons to accompany in death, is that possible?" Zhong Mountain asked again.
Zhang Fusheng pondered for a mont and then nodded slightly:
"Yes."
Zhong Mountain’s eyes brightened:
"I have a granddaughter, I want her to be safe for her lifeti, is that possible?"
He unexpectedly felt that this masked man could truly buy his past and true na, perhaps because he sensed the end was near, or perhaps because of...
Taoism.
Zhong Mountain didn’t understand Taoism, but he knew that any sect strong enough to trouble the Federation for hundreds of years despite suppression must be incredibly powerful.
This ti, Zhang Fusheng shook his head:
"A lifeti is too long, and you can’t afford the price... The things I can sell you are only in the present mont."
Zhong Mountain was silent for a mont:
"My granddaughter, I want her to beco a martial artist, is that possible?"
"How old is she?"
"Eighteen." Zhong Mountain’s eyes sparkled slightly: "She just got into Jiangzhou University this year, and although it’s not the Martial Arts departnt... As long as she becos a martial artist, she can transfer into the Martial Arts departnt."
"Then her future will be smooth... and I can die without regret."
In the end, Zhong Mountain added with hope:
"That child, her Breathing Technique has reached Minor Achievent, but she’s always struggled with the Contemplation Technique. If you can just let her reach Entry Level in the Contemplation Technique before school starts, that would be enough for her to transfer into the Martial Arts departnt!"
Zhang Fusheng thought seriously for a mont, then nodded:
"Okay."
Zhong Mountain’s breathing beca a bit labored, and he coughed violently, trying to sit up, but failed.
He saw the masked man extend his hand.
In the next second, a parchnt appeared out of thin air!
This ti, Zhang Fusheng didn’t write with a pen, but with a slight thought, words naturally appeared on the contract.
In one section, there was his ’purchase item,’ Zhong Mountain’s [true na], [appearance], [identity],
as well as his past cultivation ti in the Breathing Technique, Contemplation Technique, and body refinent.
"What have you practiced?" Zhang Fusheng asked, "I an in terms of combat technique."
"Fist!" Zhong Mountain said proudly, "Even though I’ve been stuck at the First Refinent all my life due to a lack of Cultivation Technique, my Tiger Roar Fist is perfected to the Furnace Fire stage!"
After the First Refinent, a martial artist needs to cultivate a Cultivation Technique to break through to the Second Refinent.
The ’purchase item’ section of the contract showed the words for fist technique cultivation ti, and after a thought, Zhang Fusheng changed it directly to [Tiger Roar Fist Progress].
He himself wasn’t skilled in any fist technique, so rather than taking the technique itself, obtaining the progress of the fist technique from the old man was more beneficial.
Zhang Fusheng was self-aware, admitting his own aptitude in fist techniques might not surpass Zhong Mountain’s.
"Your granddaughter’s na."
"Zhong Yue."
Zhang Fusheng was taken aback, rembering that annoying persistent person.
Could it really be that much of a coincidence?
The sa na?
He didn’t think too much about it; whether it’s the sa person or not, it didn’t matter.
In the ’sell item’ section, Zhong Mountain’s request appeared imdiately—Zhong Yue, Entry Level in Contemplation Technique within a month.
"If it’s becoming a martial artist, I can’t guarantee the tifra, but achieving Entry Level in the Contemplation Technique within a month—I can accomplish that."
Zhang Fusheng explained calmly, supporting the contract, and finally asked:
"It seems your granddaughter is the only one who hasn’t abandoned you, correct?"
Zhong Mountain nodded warmly, sighing lightly:
"She originally had the opportunity to get into the Martial Arts departnt. During the most important high school period, she went to work outside to earn money for my useless dical expenses..."
"Then how did you end up being sent to a near-morgue?"
"The money that child earned all went to her father and stepmother for my dical expenses. She’s probably still working sowhere now."
Zhang Fusheng fully understood.
After a mont of silence, he added an item to the contract.
[Clear the Door].
"Are you willing to make the trade?" Zhang Fusheng asked softly, "Once the trade is accepted, you’ll die, but I will fulfill your wishes."
"Willing... willing!" Zhong Mountain nodded vigorously.
In an instant, only Zhang Fusheng and the old man could hear the sound of a great bell and large drum resonating abruptly.
"Deal complete."
Almost instantly.
The old man on the hospital bed had his face blur and completely beca a ’faceless man,’ and then his body began to fade until it completely disappeared.
As if he never existed.
He had sold his [true na], [appearance], and [identity], no longer being Zhong Mountain, losing his face and fundantal existence.
In his place.
Zhang Fusheng stood in the stench-filled near-morgue, sighed gently, and a thought moved.
In the next mont, his body hunched, aged, and when he removed the black cloth covering his face, beneath it was Zhong Mountain’s face.
But the face appeared ruddy, no longer terminally ill.
"From now on, Zhang Fusheng will just be an ordinary Zhang Fusheng."
"Zhong Mountain is the mysterious ’True Man.’"
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