Chapter 17: Learning Sorcery
The next day, Jiang Ce was woken early by the noisy commotion downstairs.
In a daze, he only then remembered that yesterday, to test how powerful Seventh Rank was, he had unleashed another verbal attack on himself in the mirror. He only remembered crawling onto the bed in the last second before losing consciousness, and then when he opened his eyes again, it was this moment.
From Ninth Rank to Seventh Rank, not only had his attack power increased, but all aspects of his body’s quality should have seen a full improvement too. Yet even so, he had still passed out for the entire evening. He still remembered that the last time he had used the same malice for a self-attack, it had only made him dizzy for half an hour. This was enough to show that compared to a day ago, his strength had already improved several times over.
If it were his current self using the same move on Fang Yihang, for him not to be unconscious for ten days or half a month would count as Jiang Ce showing mercy.
“It’s just a shame I haven’t learned any skills, otherwise I wouldn’t have to use this move for every experiment.”
Jiang Ce sighed, then poked his head out the window and looked down, discovering that downstairs for some reason a bunch of police and onlookers had gathered.
Jiang Ce, who had originally just woken up with a still very fuzzy mind, suddenly perked up. He hurriedly put on his clothes, not even having time to wash up, and ran downstairs at the fastest speed.
He grabbed a neighbor he had met a few times and could chat with, asking excitedly: “Sister Wang, what happened?”
Yes, he didn’t know what had happened. He was eager only because he wanted to be at the front line of eating melon.
Sister Wang glanced at Jiang Ce, her expression somewhat unnatural, as if she was still quite frightened by what had happened:
“That guy, the domestic abuser I told you about last time, he’s dead. I tell you, it’s eerie. Someone saw him during the day yesterday, and he died at night. Guess what? When they found him, he was already a mummified corpse.”
“What about that woman in his house?”
“She’s gone mad, already taken away. I heard when they found her, she was right next to her man. Who knows if she killed him. Tsk tsk, I say, no matter who did it, it’s a good deed. All domestic abusers deserve to die!”
“Indeed.” Jiang Ce nodded deeply in agreement: “Good riddance.”
Jiang Ce watched the whole process just like that, and only returned home satisfied after the police left.
When he heard the term mummified corpse, Jiang Ce couldn’t help but think of Su Da Yong. He had also become a mummified corpse when he died—that was the telltale sign of being killed by ghosts and monsters.
In other words, the unfamiliar ghost or monster that had appeared in his home yesterday had perhaps gone to the domestic abuser’s house first, then come to his place afterward.
This gave him a sense of urgency. If he didn’t quickly improve himself, and if he encountered a ghost or monster in the future that he couldn’t handle or escape from, that might just be his own fate.
The only pitiable one was that woman, but Jiang Ce only felt pity for her. He had no intention of doing something meaningless like trying to save her. Never mind whether the police would believe him—doing so would easily drag him into the trouble.
If it were something he could do with a lift of his hand, Jiang Ce would be willing, but in this situation, all he could do was chant sutras to wish the woman peace.
Still, he was willing to believe the police would clear the woman’s name. After all, he had seen the corpses left by ghosts and monsters killing people—that wasn’t something humans could do.
“It’ll probably turn into an unsolved case.” Jiang Ce shook his head helplessly.
It was now six-thirty in the morning. Jiang Ce took a quick shower, got himself ready, and then headed to work.
Looking at himself in the mirror, his eyes seemed even more spirited, his skin inexplicably smoother and fairer, his whole body filled with a strange charm. Jiang Ce nodded in satisfaction: “It really feels a bit like cultivating immortality. Just like in the novels, every promotion lets you scrub off half a pound of black mud—well, except that part doesn’t match, but everything else does. Mm, not bad.”
Passing by the entryway, Jiang Ce hesitated for a moment, but still took the Sword Demon with him—that is, the bronze statue.
Although this thing had helped him before, he still felt uneasy leaving it alone at home. Su Da Yong was one thing, but since he had chosen to keep it, if he didn’t watch it properly and it went out to harm others again, that would be his fault.
Last night Chen Mian had already sent a message saying his file had been entered, which meant that starting today he was already a full-time employee. His future salary would be several times higher, and plus the two hundred bonus from the day before yesterday had also come through. Jiang Ce was uncharacteristically lavish for once and took a cab to work.
So he left home later than usual today, but arrived even earlier.
“From now on, I’ll be living that lavish life of taking cabs to work every day. Hate it, I’m gonna get corrupted by capitalism!”
At the Funeral Home entrance, Jiang Ce twisted around like a maggot. Chen Mian, who had just arrived, watched him with raised eyebrows.
“What’s up, going mad first thing in the morning?”
Now officially full-time, Jiang Ce was a bit swollen-headed. Not only did he not feel socially dead, he patted his chest proudly and declared: “I am Hammurabi!”
Chen Mian chuckled in disbelief: “How so?”
Jiang Ce raised his chin: “I can make laws and codes here!”
“Give it up, don’t embarrass yourself. There’s a lot of work to do today.” Chen Mian patted the back of Jiang Ce’s head: “Kid, don’t say I didn’t warn you—your tasks from now on will be arduous. Not only will I start training you during work hours to do body embellishment on corpses by yourself, after work you still have to come home with me for special training.”
Jiang Ce’s eyelid twitched uneasily.
Doing body embellishment on corpses alone wasn’t a big deal—just suturing wounds and applying makeup. At most, for cases like car accidents where the corpse looked more gruesome, add some fillers to make it plump and look peaceful. Nothing major; he had long felt he could handle it too.
But this special training at home after work…
Thinking of this, Jiang Ce looked troubled: “Uncle Chen… Who would’ve thought at your age, looking all pure and upright, you’d be into that? I get it, but I might not be up for it. How about this—my neighbor has a widow called Sister Wang, real looker. Want me to introduce her to you? What do you think?”
Chen Mian’s expression went from puzzled to suddenly realizing, then from incredulous to furious. He was so angry he wanted to take off his shoe and give Jiang Ce a hard slap, even the mild-mannered him couldn’t help bursting into profanity, glaring and blowing his beard:
“What the hell are you thinking? My lifetime of good reputation ruined by your rotten mouth! I make you full-time and then sexually harass you? You’re a guy! Why would I? I’m talking about sorcery for exorcising ghosts—Daoist techniques passed down from our ancestors!”
Jiang Ce then realized he had misunderstood completely, and immediately smiled apologetically:
“Aiyo, of course. Look at this mouth of mine, speaking without thinking. You’re the bigger man, forgive me. It’s all my dirty mind.”
Pausing, seeing Chen Mian’s expression soften a bit, Jiang Ce hesitated again: “Then about that widow, Uncle Chen, do you still…”
“Scram! Get as far away as you can!”
After a busy day, Jiang Ce felt like half his life had been drained.
As a Seventh Rank now with abundant stamina, it naturally wasn’t physical exhaustion, but mental fatigue.
Today he had gotten to know Chen Mian anew.
Besides being serious and rigorous, he was also extremely petty. Just because he had cracked a joke at him that morning, every corpse sent to Chen Mian that day had been handled by Jiang Ce.
Most infuriating was that Chen Mian not only kept nitpicking from the side, but also never left the morgue, so Jiang Ce didn’t even have a chance to sneak off to the farewell hall to munch on seeds and slack.
But precisely because of this, plus whether it was good luck or bad, the incoming corpses had all different causes of death. In just one short day, Jiang Ce had proficiently mastered all body embellishment techniques—not only with great results, but his work efficiency had also become very high. Even Chen Mian couldn’t help but be surprised.
This also led to, when taking a cab home with Chen Mian, Jiang Ce looking at the driver like he was looking at a dead man, scaring the driver into thinking they were robbers.
Arriving at Chen Mian’s solitary courtyard home, Chen Mian walked ahead refreshed and clear-headed, while Jiang Ce trailed behind like a walking corpse.
The two entered the study. Chen Mian went straight to the bookshelf, pulled an ancient book covered in dust from the top shelf, and tossed it on the desk: “Here, this is what I’ve relied on for the past thirty years—the Soul Soothing Technique. Its origins are untraceable now, supposedly improved from the Mao Mountain soul-summoning technique by some Taoist renegade. Start practicing it from today. Once you’ve fully learned it, I can retire with peace of mind.”
With the ancient book landing on the desk with a “thud,” Jiang Ce’s eyes—which had been standing drained and exhausted in the center of the study—gradually focused, regaining their spark.
Sorcery! Finally, sorcery to learn! Even if it was just sorcery that ordinary mortals could learn! But it was at least genuine, usable sorcery!
