Eternal Life: I Can Sell Everything

Su Yang City, Jishan Square.

The long-silent home of the Song Family finally filled with the sound of crisp laughter from the courtyard today.

And the honking of a goose: "HONK HONK HONK, GACK GACK GACK..."

Song Ciwan: "Hahaha!"

In the courtyard, the Big White Goose rushed over, enthusiastically rubbing its head against Song Ciwan’s leg and flapping its wings. Suddenly, its gaze fixed on the pork intestines Song Ciwan was carrying in her left hand.

Then, the goose’s head froze.

"GACK?"

With a flap of its wings, the Big White Goose’s whole body leaped back abruptly.

It seemed... to be repulsed by the smell of the intestines?

Song Ciwan: "Hehehe!"

’You darned goose, Big White. You can give me the cold shoulder now, but soon enough, I’ll be out of your league.’

’What’s wrong with intestines? Don’t you know they’re one of the most delicious foods in the world? Pork Demon intestines are still intestines!’

Song Ciwan carried the intestines into the kitchen, a simple lean-to built against the wall of her house.

Her home consisted of only two rooms. The east room originally belonged to Song Youde and his wife. As Song Ciwan grew up, the couple partitioned off a small inner section of the east room to serve as her boudoir.

The west room served as the main hall for eating and receiving guests, and it was also where important supplies like grain were stored.

Another shed was built out from the wall of the west room. The water vat and stove were placed inside, making it a makeshift kitchen.

Song Ciwan added firewood to the stove’s belly and used a flint and steel to light the fire.

Tinder floss was scattered in the gaps between the firewood, and a bright flame POOFED to life. The firelight illuminated her delicate features. Her movements were so skilled, as if she had started fires this way thousands of times before, completely free of any awkwardness or hesitation.

The Big White Goose wasn’t afraid of the fire. Instead, it squeezed close, nudging Song Ciwan with its round body, rubbing against her affectionately.

This Big White Goose was just six months old. It was said that one of its ancestors, eighteen generations removed, had a tenuous blood relation to a Spirit Goose. Before his accident, Song Youde had been tricked into bringing it home for his daughter to raise.

The person had said that geese were excellent fighters and made for great watchdogs. ’A young lady is so delicate. Wouldn’t having such a goose as a companion be perfect?’

Now, both Song Youde and his wife had passed away, but this goose remained by Song Ciwan’s side.

Hugging the goose, Song Ciwan felt a momentary daze, as if she couldn’t distinguish whether she was the Song Ciwan of her past life or the Song Ciwan of this one.

’Oh well, what does it matter? Song Ciwan is Song Ciwan.’

She stroked the smooth feathers on the Big White Goose’s back and said with a soft smile, "Big White, from now on, it’s just you and me. We’ll have to rely on each other."

’Anywhere can be a paradise, can’t it? Home is where the heart is.’

"We need to keep a low profile, go with the flow, work hard, and cultivate well, you hear?"

The Big White Goose: "GACK!"

Song Ciwan boiled water, washed her body and hair, and changed her clothes. Then she found an oil-paper umbrella in the house, ready to take it to work the next day.

The rain had stopped, and the sky was turning to dusk. The long-overdue sun cast a weary, gentle glow, its last rays bathing the Mortal World and illuminating the little courtyard in the world of men.

That evening, Song Ciwan cooked a sweet potato and mixed-grain congee. She washed the pork intestines several more times with wood ash, then stir-fried them with a handful of pickled vegetables.

The pungent, sour aroma stimulated the Big White Goose into a fit of "GACK GACK" sounds. Drool dripped from its flat beak, soaking the snow-white feathers on its chest.

Song Ciwan burst out laughing. She plated the spicy and sour intestines and teased the goose, "Weren’t you disgusted by this? Why are you drooling now?"

The Big White Goose: "GACK GACK!"

It puffed out its round chest proudly and flapped its wings, kicking up a strong breeze.

Song Ciwan ruffled its head and then its back. Finally, she filled its food bowl with the sweet potato congee and picked out some of the pickled vegetables from the intestine dish for it.

It wasn’t that she was being stingy and didn’t want to share the intestines. It was mainly because these were the innards of a Demon Beast, and she had no idea if a domestic fowl like a goose could eat them. Geese weren’t carnivorous to begin with; feeding it something so random might make it sick.

Song Ciwan didn’t dare feed the intestines to the goose, but on a sudden whim, she summoned the Heaven and Earth Scale. She placed the plate of intestines onto the Balance Plate, attempting a brand-new experiment.

[Pork Demon Intestines. Spicy and sour flavor, stir-fried, fragrant. Available for trade!]

Song Ciwan: "...Hahaha!"

’Trade, trade, trade! I have to trade this!’

After the trade, a longan-sized Elixir Pill appeared in Song Ciwan’s hand. It was brown and perfectly round.

Focusing on it, she received information about the Elixir: [Strengthening Pill. Possesses the ability to fortify Qi Blood. Can assist Postnatal Martial Artists or Cultivators in the Energy-Introducing Stage with their Cultivation.]

In a word: Awesome!

That night, Song Ciwan took the Strengthening Pill and attempted to practice the Sutra of Sitting and Forgetting.

The practice of Cultivation and Refining Dao should have been unfamiliar to Song Ciwan, but after taking the Strengthening Pill, she quickly sensed a gathering of energy in her Dantian.

With this distinct sensation of qi, it was as if she had been enlightened; she suddenly gained a clear understanding of the Sutra of Sitting and Forgetting’s scriptures.

The energy completed a full circulation. The night passed without incident.

When she woke up the next day, Song Ciwan felt refreshed and invigorated. In her Dantian, a wisp of True Qi had taken root and was now circulating silently, like any old pro who knew how to lay low.

Song Ciwan washed up, ate breakfast, took her umbrella, said goodbye to the Big White Goose, and then left for work.

She once again put on the iconic handyman’s outer shirt of the Washing Room. She had washed and dried it the previous night, and it fit reasonably well now.

The shirt seemed to have a built-in repellent effect. When Song Ciwan wore it through the streets and alleys, even dogs would keep a ten-foot distance.

For example, even the local thugs and ruffians—the kind who usually loved to harass young maidens and wives—didn’t dare get close to Song Ciwan when they saw her.

It was a unique effect, quite interesting in its own way.

Arriving at the Demon Refining Platform, Song Ciwan took out her Identity Card and entered through a small back gate.

The moment she stepped through, it was as if she had entered another world entirely.

The Demon Refining Platform was heavily guarded, with a guard every ten steps and a sentry post every hundred. There were jade-like trees and magnificent groves, the creations of an Immortal Family. Paper Cranes flew through the air carrying messages, and Daoist Magic Bells chimed melodiously. At the center, soaring pavilions glowed with crimson light, looking just like a palace in the heavens.

Of course, none of this had anything to do with Song Ciwan.

The Washing Room she was headed to was in the farthest, most remote corner of the Demon Refining Platform. A row of low-lying courtyards was sectioned off, containing various functional areas like sorting rooms, the Grass Washing Room, the Second Wash Room, miscellaneous washing rooms, and so on.

In the center was an Eight Trigrams Washing Pool, filled with a special washing solution concocted from various Spiritual Materials.

When Song Ciwan arrived, quite a few people were already standing by the Eight Trigrams Pool. Steward Wu was taking attendance.

But Song Ciwan wasn’t late, because according to the Washing Room’s rules, the official start of the workday could not be earlier than the third quarter of the Hour of the Dragon.

If they started too early, before the world’s yang energy had fully risen, not only would the Demon Fiend Malice be difficult to wash away, but unforeseen events might also occur.

Song Ciwan arrived neither early nor late. She was right in the middle, going with the flow, blending into the crowd just perfectly.

After Steward Wu finished the roll call, the handymen began to disperse to their jobs.

This time, Song Ciwan was assigned to the Second Wash Room. Most of the people there were new, and the newcomers still had some energy left in them. As work began, Song Ciwan heard a lively chatter around her. The handymen’s hands were busy, but their mouths were not, and they started chatting back and forth.

An old woman with a face full of wrinkles said, "I’m old and don’t have many years left anyway. I can work hard here at the Washing Room for a few years, earn some wages, and save up a dowry for my dear daughter. Then I can die with no regrets."

Someone next to her asked in surprise, "Aunt Zhou, you came to the Washing Room to save up a dowry for your daughter? That’s rare. Most people are here to save up for their sons’ weddings, sigh."

Aunt Zhou said, "I took care of my son, too. I just did that first. Now that I’m getting old, I’m using the time I have left to take care of my daughter..."

...

The old women were one group, chatting amongst themselves. There were also able-bodied young men in the Second Wash Room. They were on the other side, sometimes chatting, sometimes bursting into laughter, though their laughter was always tinged with a lewd quality.

A young man with sharp, monkey-like features chuckled and said, "The other day, I got my wages and went straight to Diva Lane. Guess what? When morning came, that Sister Chun was still clinging to me, unwilling to let go! Her waist was so soft, it was like she was melting."

"Really that soft? I don’t believe you... unless you take me with you to see for myself after work today!"

"Hey, you two! You don’t think about saving the money you risk your lives for? You just give it all to the girls in the alley? You have no sense! Aren’t you worried about going broke?"

"What’s there to worry about?" the pointy-chinned man said. "In this world, you live one day at a time. I’m not saving money! My whole family is dead, I’m the only one left. Who would I be saving it for? Heh..."

The "heh" had barely faded when the pointy-chinned man’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed to the ground on the spot.

The person next to him tried to support him while instinctively reaching out to check for breath under his nose. Then, his voice trembling, he screamed, "Someone’s... someone’s dead!"