Chapter 049: A Talent Unlike Anyone Else’s

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Third Master had once told Little Monkey that everything concerning his funeral was to be kept as simple as possible, so we prepared everything according to his wishes and announced three days of mourning.

We had Sister Yan contact a funeral service company. The rest of us moved Brother Hei to another ward, then returned to wash Third Master’s body and change him into clean clothes.

Sister Yan took me to buy some funeral supplies, which we handed out to everyone when we returned.

After paying the hospital, we rented a space in the morgue and set up a small memorial hall. We carefully placed Third Master in his coffin. Tonight, several of us would keep vigil here.

The news of Third Master’s death had already spread. By evening, quite a few people had arrived at the hospital.

Not everyone hated Third Master to the bone. There were many who had received his kindness.

Some of them worked at scrap-collection stations. After learning the truth about Zhao Xiangbo’s betrayal of Third Master, they had left Zhao Xiangbo and returned to the scrap station.

Each person wore a strip of black gauze. Those willing to stay remained to help; those who did not simply paid their respects and left.

In the end, more than a dozen people stayed at the memorial hall, all arranged by Deng Zhiyong.

That evening, I ordered food and happened to find Deng Zhiyong chatting with them.

Seeing the anger on his face, I walked over and asked, “Brother Yong, what happened?”

Deng Zhiyong gritted his teeth and cursed. “Zhao Xiangbo is at the scrap station right now. He’s forbidden anyone from coming here to pay their respects. Anyone who goes there shouldn’t expect to leave!”

I narrowed my eyes and said in a low voice, “He wants to take Third Master’s position! What’s happening on Fatty Luo’s side?”

“That’s the strangest part!” Deng Zhiyong said with a frown. “All the people Zhao Xiangbo brought were formerly Third Master’s men.

“The Luo family hasn’t sent a single person. It’s as if they don’t care!”

I said nothing.

If Luo Weijing wanted to seize everything that had belonged to Third Master, this was the perfect opportunity.

Third Master was dead, and no one was managing the scrap station. If Luo Weijing sent people to occupy it, he could control at least sixty percent of Third Master’s resources from then on.

Yet he had sent only Zhao Xiangbo’s group. Was he really that confident? Or did he think that people like us were not worth his personal attention—that one adopted son was already enough?

My face darkened as I asked Deng Zhiyong, “Brother Yong, what are you planning to do?”

“I’m going over there.” Deng Zhiyong did not hide his intentions from me. His voice was low and firm. “Third Master’s life’s work cannot fall into the hands of this traitor!

“And for me, tonight is a good opportunity as well. I don’t want to miss it!”

I understood what he meant.

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His men were all ordinary people, some of them even disabled.

But if he gained a group of qi cultivators, his strength would be many times greater than it was now—he could hardly imagine how much stronger.

That was also why he had been willing to save the injured people Zhao Xiangbo had abandoned at the restaurant.

I nodded and said, “Brother Yong, go back without worrying. Leave things here to us. If you need help, call Little Monkey. We’ll arrange for people to return and assist you!”

“Good!” Deng Zhiyong nodded. He looked back at the coffin, his eyes rimmed with red. “Stay with Master. I’ll come back first thing tomorrow morning!”

That night, Wen Liang and I sat together in the memorial hall to keep vigil. Thinking of all the care Third Master had given me over the years, I could not stop my tears from falling.

I had been only ten when my mother died, and many of my memories had already grown vague. The only thing I clearly remembered was the feeling that the sky had collapsed. I had no idea what I was supposed to do with my life. Wherever Sister Yan took me, I followed.

Now that Third Master had left us, I was not quite as lost as I had been then. It simply felt as though something was missing. That unbearable pain of being unable to let go was what tormented me most.

I removed my glasses and wiped away the tears streaming from my eyes. Seeing me like that, Wen Liang covered his own face with both hands and began to sob softly.

I did not put my glasses back on. Instead, I watched the coffin in the distance with my left eye.

This was the first time I had used my Qi-seeing eye to observe someone who had just died. The living qi that had filled Third Master’s body had now turned entirely black, becoming dead qi that began to coil around the coffin.

What made me deeply uncomfortable was the discovery that when I drew near the coffin, I could actually absorb that dead qi.

I did not even need to breathe it in. As long as I stood beside the coffin and completely relaxed my mind, the dead qi would enter my body.

The phenomenon startled me.

But after sensing that the dead qi caused no disturbance within me and was gradually assimilated into living qi, my suspended heart finally settled.

I went to examine other people and see whether they were the same.

But after observing several of them, I found that none possessed the ability to absorb qi directly. Could this be a talent unique to me?

There was no way to verify that for the moment. Yet a sudden thought came to me: if I could stop the dead qi from spreading and turn it back into living qi, would that allow Third Master to return from the dead?

Unfortunately, I had no idea how to transform dead qi back into living qi. All I could do was watch helplessly as Third Master departed from me, powerless to change his fate.

Wen Liang cried for a while, then talked with me for another two hours before leaning against the wall and falling into a deep sleep.

I barely slept at all. I spent the entire night absorbing the dead qi and converting it into living qi within my body. By dawn, I finally stopped, yet I did not feel tired in the slightest.

However, when Sister Yan brought breakfast, I had no appetite at all as I watched the others wolf down their food. It felt as though I had already eaten far too much of something, and nausea surged through me. I ran outside and began vomiting.

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“Stone, what’s wrong?” Sister Yan followed me out, staring at me anxiously.

I had no idea what was happening and could only brush it off. “Maybe I didn’t rest well last night. And I drank quite a bit of cold water, so it must have upset my stomach!”

Sister Yan hurriedly said, “Then don’t drink that fermented bean juice. It’s cold already. I’ll buy you a bowl of hot porridge!”

I quickly caught her by the arm. “Sis, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I can keep watch here. You should go back and come again tomorrow to see Third Master off on his final journey!”

Sister Yan thought for a moment, then nodded. “All right, I’ll go back first. Don’t exhaust yourself either. Make sure you get some rest!”

For some reason, I did not want to tell Sister Yan that I could absorb dead qi. I had the vague feeling that it was not a good thing—and that there was something unclean about it.

The hospital was issuing the death certificate that day, so I sent Little Monkey to collect it.

Brother Hei insisted on coming to the memorial hall. Little Monkey could not hold him back, so I found a wheelchair and pushed Brother Hei over. After he spent some time accompanying Third Master, I pushed him back again.

When I returned, quite a few people had gathered both inside and outside the memorial hall, and there was also the sound of an argument.

I hurried over and immediately saw a large, corpulent figure standing beside Third Master’s coffin.

Luo Weijing!

I was just about to rush over when I suddenly stopped. I removed my glasses and looked at him.

Just as I had imagined, strands of dead qi were entering Luo Weijing’s body as well.

The difference was that whatever amount entered was expelled in equal measure. None of it was absorbed, and none of it became living qi.

I remembered something Third Master had once told me. Once a qi cultivator reached the level of a true practitioner, he could communicate with heaven and earth and draw qi from nature.

Yet that process remained in a state of relative balance unless one deliberately absorbed the qi.

If that balance was disrupted, too much of a good thing could become harmful.

It seemed that being able to transform dead qi into living qi was the ability that set me apart from other qi cultivators.

And the reason I felt so sick now, after greedily absorbing dead qi throughout the night, was probably that I had taken in too much.