Eternal Life: I Can Sell Everything

The entrance to the City God Temple was a surging tide of people.

Some giggled like madmen, while others cried out in alarm, "Hey! It’s snowing! It’s snowing again!"

Amidst the star-like lights of the Mortal World, a fine snow had begun to fall once more.

Song Ciwan was jostled aside again. The young man who had just been clutching his House Protection Talisman, laughing and crying, subconsciously stuck close to her.

The crowd grew more frantic. "Quick! Let me through! It’s snowing, I need to get home!"

Some were still stubbornly pushing to buy a Talisman, while others who had already gotten one just wanted to hurry home before the snow got any heavier.

Why did they seem so afraid of the snow?

In truth, it wasn’t the snow they feared, but a demonic calamity in the night snow, just like the one last night!

Song Ciwan, of course, didn’t fight the tide of people. She walked quickly, veering further and further to the side. It was hard to say how long she walked—it could have been an eternity or just a moment—but the crowded-in feeling gradually faded. Ahead, the fine snow blanketed a clean, wide-open street.

The young man close behind her was still rushing forward. When he saw her suddenly stop, he yelped, "Gonna crash, gonna crash, OOF!"

Song Ciwan sidestepped, deftly avoiding him. But the young man couldn’t stop in time and went down with a THUD, face-first.

The street was wet with freshly fallen snow. The young man, sprawled on the ground like a drenched frog, lifted his head and gave Song Ciwan a goofy grin.

Faced with such a ridiculously smeared, smiling face, Song Ciwan couldn’t help it. She let out a snort of laughter.

The young man chuckled. "Sister Yue, I-I just got a House Protection Talisman. I’m so happy."

His form of address made Song Ciwan raise an eyebrow. She thought for a moment before it finally clicked. This young man was also the child of a junior official’s family from Jishan Square. They must have known each other when they were young.

It had been a while, and with his face so dirty, she hadn’t recognized him right away.

"You’re Uncle Yang’s son, Ah Xuan?" She stepped forward and offered a hand to pull the prone Yang Taixuan up.

But the guileless Yang Taixuan quickly put his right hand behind his back. Only after wiping his wet hand on a clean patch of his clothes did he take Song Ciwan’s offered hand and let her help him to his feet.

"Thank you, Sister Yue." Yang Taixuan, looking utterly disheveled, thanked her with a silly grin.

Song Ciwan pulled her hand back. "Aren’t you afraid of me? Everyone else avoids me."

As she spoke, Song Ciwan opened an oil-paper umbrella. She had been caught in the rain once and had made a habit of carrying an umbrella ever since. Now, with the fine snow falling, she had one at the ready.

Yang Taixuan hunched his shoulders and walked alongside her. Song Ciwan tilted the umbrella slightly, shielding him from the snow as well.

Yang Taixuan’s lips trembled. He said emotionally, "Sister Yue, when I was little, my father used to beat me. Everyone made fun of me, but you were the only one who comforted me..."

Then he added, "A few days ago, my father died."

The abrupt turn of conversation was startling.

Song Ciwan didn’t know how to respond. She recalled that several junior officials had indeed died recently, but she hadn’t paid much attention to who they were. ’So,’ she thought, ’one of them was Yang Taixuan’s father.’

She was about to say "My condolences," but then she heard Yang Taixuan continue, "Sister Yue, if we’re talking about having a hard life, well, mine’s as hard as yours now. Of course I’m not afraid of you."

This wasn’t exactly something to celebrate, but as Yang Taixuan spoke, he started chuckling again. "My dad’s dead, so there’s no one to beat me and my mom day and night anymore. Everyone tells me to mourn him, but honestly, I’m not sad at all. There’s nothing to mourn."

That was right. Yang Taixuan’s father had been a violent abuser who would beat his wife and son half to death at any opportunity.

At first, the neighbors would intervene and try to talk some sense into him when they saw it happen.

Later, they realized that no amount of stopping him or reasoning with him could change Father Yang’s habit of beating his wife and child. And every time after he did it, he would cry and repent to his wife, and Yang’s wife would always forgive him.

Gradually, the neighbors stopped trying to dissuade him. They began to treat it as a kind of sideshow entertainment. Not only did it become commonplace, but sometimes they even found it amusing.

Song Ciwan, however, found no amusement in it. Although her family and the Yang Family both lived in Jishan Square, they were two streets apart. She had heard about Father Yang’s domestic violence but had almost never witnessed it herself.

She had only seen the injuries on Yang Taixuan’s body. She seemed to recall treating his wounds for him when they were children.

Seeing Yang Taixuan now, speaking of his father’s death with a smile on his face, she couldn’t help but think, ’This young man has probably been driven mad by the daily abuse.’

But that was understandable. You couldn’t expect someone who had suffered endless humiliation since childhood to feel benevolent toward their abuser.

So, Song Ciwan said, "If there’s no need for condolences, then how about... congratulations on escaping your sea of suffering!"

At this, Yang Taixuan’s hunched back straightened slightly. He turned his head to look at Song Ciwan, surprised and delighted. "Sister Yue, you’re not going to tell me to respect the dead and cry more for him?"

Song Ciwan replied, "For some people, death erases their sins. But for others, even death cannot wash their sins away. Since I haven’t suffered what you’ve suffered, how could I possibly tell you to let it go?"

Yang Taixuan looked at Song Ciwan. He had just said he wouldn’t cry, but now two streams of clear tears trickled from his eyes.

The tears washed away the grime on his face, revealing surprisingly fair and smooth skin underneath.

He wiped at his face frantically, but the tears only seemed to multiply.

"Hehehe, HAHAHA..." His eyes cried while his mouth laughed. "Sister Yue, those people... they tell me to mourn, but when they see I’m not sad, they criticize me and ask why I’m not grieving! HAHAHA, tell me, isn’t that hilarious?"

"You’re the first person to tell me that for some people, even death can’t erase their sins... I’m so happy! I refuse to be sad for him. In my heart, he will always be guilty!" Yang Taixuan wiped away his tears once more.

He said, "But he’s dead, so I can’t cry anymore. From now on, I’m going to laugh. I have to laugh! HAHA, HAHAHA!" 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

As he laughed, his tears actually stopped. He looked at Song Ciwan, splitting his lips into a grin that showed a set of white teeth. His eyes, washed clean by tears, shone under the roadside lanterns, as bright as fallen stardust.

The Heaven and Earth Scale appeared at that moment. A mass of energy, white with a cyan glow, rested on the Balance Plate.

This was the first time Song Ciwan had seen energy of this color. What she usually saw was grayish-white or bluish-black. A mass like this, white with a cyan glow, didn’t look like energy at all—it was more like a ball of white-green jade!

[human desires: Joy, Fury, Sorrow. Five jin and seven taels. Can be sold.]

Yang Taixuan’s emotions were so turbulent, weighing a full five jin and seven taels!

This was also the first time Song Ciwan had ever collected such a large quantity of the seven emotions and six desires. ’Could that be why this mass of energy has taken on a jade-like color?’ she wondered.

She put away the Heaven and Earth Scale and gave Yang Taixuan a gentle smile.

The two walked on together through the snow. As they headed toward Jishan Square, Yang Taixuan became a chatterbox, starting to ramble to Song Ciwan about his future plans.

"Sister Yue, I’m going to find a martial arts hall and start Martial Arts Training. When my dad died, the Government Office gave us fifty taels of silver as a consolation payment. My mom used five taels to bury him."

"We need to keep some money for the family, but I still have thirty taels I can use for Martial Arts Training. The first month at the Zhang Family Martial Arts Hall only costs five taels of silver. I’m going to train hard, and once I’m skilled, I’ll find a way to make money. Then everything will be okay."

That did indeed sound like a good plan. "Yes," Song Ciwan said, "that’s excellent."

Yang Taixuan added, "Actually, I could have inherited my father’s position, but my mom was afraid I’d be killed by demons like him, so she wouldn’t let me."

It was true; the positions of low-ranking junior officials could be hereditary. Take Song Ciwan, for instance. If she weren’t a girl, she could have inherited Song Youde’s post as a junior official.

But she was a girl, so the original Song Ciwan had been forced into the Washing Room.

Just then, Yang Taixuan spoke again. "Sister Yue, how much debt do you still have? When I start earning money, I’ll help you pay it back. You shouldn’t go to the Washing Room anymore. It’s no place to be long-term."

His words gave Song Ciwan a start.

But her reaction was swift. She raised an eyebrow and shot back, "Ah Xuan, are you looking down on me for working in the Washing Room?"

Yang Taixuan immediately panicked. He stammered, "No, that’s not it, I..."

Song Ciwan cut him off. "Ah Xuan, what is the world of Martial Artists like? When you go to the martial arts hall, can you tell me all about it?"

Though interrupted, Yang Taixuan seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He quickly said, "Of course I can!"

As they spoke, they continued walking until a familiar sight appeared ahead. They had arrived at Song Ciwan’s home.

And there, at the gate of the Song Family’s courtyard, a young man was pacing, braving the wind and snow.

He was tall and thin, dressed like a Scholar, his face flushed red from the biting wind. It was none other than Song Ciwan’s ex-fiancé, Wang Yi—the very same man whose emotional value had once exchanged for the First Layer of the Sutra of Sitting and Forgetting!

Wang Yi looked up and saw Song Ciwan and Yang Taixuan approaching together, sharing a single umbrella. His expression changed in an instant.

He pointed a finger at the two of them, tongue-tied, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. "You... you two..."

Song Ciwan tilted her head. Seeing this emotionally volatile "treasure," she gave a slight smile.