Chapter 401: Scam Shop

The carriage trundled listlessly along the official highway. Long neglected and fallen into disrepair, the road was a patchwork of ruts and hollows, yet the old steed trotted across the broken earth as though it were level ground, bearing the two passengers within without the slightest hint of a jolt.

"So, we have reached Huangzhou," Lu Yang remarked, unrolling a map. Upon its surface gleamed a solitary speck of light that marked their position—a magical treasure capable of charting their general whereabouts, and an indispensable companion for any journey abroad.

"The day grows late; let us find a place nearby to rest," Meng Jingzhou suggested. Seeing the twilight deepen and knowing they had crossed into Huangzhou, he saw no reason to press on in such a frantic rush.

"Ah, look there! There is an inn; we could stay the night!" Meng Jingzhou pointed toward a dwelling not far off. Its signboard hung askew, teetering on the verge of collapse, its lettering so faded that the name of the establishment was entirely lost to sight—a place of dubious quality indeed.

Lu Yang cast a skeptical gaze upon the inn. It possessed a sinister air, appearing so frail that a single sudden gust of wind might well bring the entire structure crashing down.

"It will have to do; it is still better than spending the night in the carriage," Lu Yang said, offering himself a scrap of consolation.

The two men and their horse drew up before the tavern. Its doors stood wide open, revealing a yawning expanse of pitch blackness within, utterly devoid of life, as though it had been abandoned to the elements for an eternity.

Only then did the pair discern the name of the inn—The Qingming Inn.

"Not the most auspicious of names," Meng Jingzhou muttered under his breath. He strode inside regardless, throwing his voice into the gloom. "Is anyone here? We require lodgings!"

No answer came.

Meng Jingzhou called out once more: "Is anyone here? We require lodgings!"

A sudden, heavy thud echoed from behind the counter, sounding uncomfortably like a corpse dropping to the floor.

"Who goes there, shouting and hollering without a shred of respect for the rules of the house?" a man cursed, wearing a hat fashioned from white paper.

He crawled out from beneath the counter, fixing Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou with an unfriendly glare.

"Lodgings. Give us two of your finest rooms!" Meng Jingzhou, as a rule, never settled for anything less than the best.

"The two of you? Seeking lodgings?" The man in the white paper hat stared at them in astonishment. He craned his neck to peer past them, searching the dark, but found no one else following in their wake.

"Be off with you, stop making trouble. This is no place for the likes of you; go find somewhere else to stay." The man waved his hands impatiently, trying to drive them away.

Meng Jingzhou was perplexed. In all his travels and countless stays at various inns, this was the first time he had ever been denied a room.

Blood Capital Village Na'a, he lived in Da Gong Sui Ao He Dai,

"Is your inn fully occupied?"

"Half the rooms are still vacant."

"Then why do you refuse to let us stay?"

Seeing that these two truly remained ignorant of the customs, the man in the paper hat opened his mouth to explain, but a sudden disturbance from above cut him short.

Thud—thud—thud—

A chorus of footsteps echoed from the ceiling, moving in such perfect, uniform cadence that it stirred an instinctual unease in the chest.

A cultivator draped in Taoist robes descended from the second floor. Following in his wake was a throng of figures, shrouded entirely in black cloth, moving in unbroken silence that felt exceptionally gruesome in the dead of night.

So numerous were these cloth-wrapped figures that Lu Yang and his companion could not help but wonder how the upper floor could possibly accommodate such a crowd, especially since the innkeeper had just claimed half the rooms were empty.

Could it be that a dozen or more of them were crammed into a single room?

How could they sleep in such a manner? Did they stand propped against the walls?

"Little master, we are checking out. Yours is the wretchedest Qingming Inn I have ever patronized." The Taoist cultivator tossed a string of copper coins to the man in the paper hat. The design of the coins was entirely unfamiliar to the two onlookers, and a faint ripple of spiritual energy emanated from them, suggesting some peculiar function.

The man in the white paper hat smirked, offering no reply; so long as there was coin to be made, he cared little for insults.

Lu Yang was mystified. The mantle of night had already fallen completely; why would anyone choose to check out at such an hour?

Yet as Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou caught a clear glimpse of the faces beneath the black cloth, a mutual shock seized them.

The eyes of the wrapped figures were hollow and vacant. The mouths and noses of some were choked with mud and withered grass; others bore hideous disfigurements, as though crushed by some violent force; still others showed the advanced withered state of old age, reduced to nothing but skin and bone.

"Drowned, crushed, died of old age... these are all corpses!"

"The Art of Corpse Driving?!"

No wonder they vacated their rooms at the arrival of dusk. Resting by day and driving the dead by night—it was precisely as the ancient chronicles described.

The pair had scarce set foot in Huangzhou, yet they had already encountered the legendary Art of Corpse Driving, a practice they had hitherto only known by reputation.

Stowing the copper coins away, the man in the white paper hat cast a disdainful look at the two youths. "This establishment of mine is an Inn for the Dead, a resting place for Corpse Drivers. The rooms are reserved solely for the deceased. If you possess no taboos against such things, you are welcome to stay."

The corners of the young men's eyes twitched slightly. To sleep in quarters meant for the dead was a notion they could not entirely reconcile themselves to.

"The man who just left practiced the Art of Corpse Driving. Is he a disciple of the Corpse Driving Sect?" Lu Yang inquired further. If the man truly hailed from that sect, they might well seize the opportunity to converse with him.

The man in the paper hat shook his head. "You two must be from afar. I wondered how any living soul would know the name of our Qingming Inn franchise here in Huangzhou and come seeking a room.

"We hail from Yunzhou."

The man in the paper hat softened in sudden realization. "Ah, a great province of the Central Plains. No wonder. I have heard that the Askant Sect, one of the Five Great Immortal Sects, resides there, rendering the entire province prosperous, its thoroughfares bustling, its economy thriving, and its experts as numerous as the clouds."

He then corrected their misconception: "The Art of Corpse Driving is not exclusive to the Corpse Driving Sect. Many rogue cultivators among the common folk possess the skill, though their methods lack the solemnity of the orthodox sect."

"Here in Huangzhou, whether one is a rogue corpse driver or a disciple of the sect, all are known simply as Corpse Drivers. They do not trade in spirit stones, but in Great Copper Dharma Cash."

The man rattled the string of coins in his hand. "Just like these."

Expressing their gratitude to the man, Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou resolved to seek another inn.

As they departed the Qingming Inn, Lu Yang noticed a fallen signpost near the threshold. Out of simple kindness, he set the board upright for the proprietor.

Upon its weathered surface, the inscription read: Due to adjustments in business strategy, this establishment has been relocated twenty li east of Baiquan Town. We crave your understanding.

The date appended at the bottom was from five years ago.

"What!"

The two snapped their heads up, staring at the Qingming Inn before them in sheer bewilderment, as a sudden chill crept up their spines.

If the genuine Qingming Inn had relocated half a decade ago, then whom had they just encountered?

They dashed back into the shop, only to find it entirely deserted. The man in the white paper hat was nowhere to be seen.

"Was that a man or a ghost just now?"

Terror gripped them. To think that neither of them had detected the slightest abnormality in the man from beginning to end. Even in the presence of Meng Jingzhou, who possessed a Pure Yang Body, the man had shown no reaction whatsoever. To what height must his cultivation reach? Could he be a Ghost King?

"Surround the perimeter! Search every corner!"

A commanding voice rang out with absolute certainty, and a cohort of cultivators clad in the uniform of constables erupted from the surroundings, storming into the inn.

"Dammit, he slipped away again!"

The leader, a man with a thick, bristling beard, spat his dissatisfaction upon finding the inn devoid of the paper-hatted proprietor.

"Brother, may I ask what is unfolding here?" Lu Yang inquired politely.

Seeing that the two had just emerged from the inn and bore no suspicious traits, the bearded constable explained:

"This Qingming Inn has lain abandoned for five years. Yet during this time, travelers would occasionally claim they had stayed here. Believing the place to be haunted, they reported it to us. After a covert investigation and a cross-examination of testimonies, we finally unearthed the truth."

"A fellow wearing a white paper hat has been masquerading as the innkeeper, pretending the shop is open for business to entice Corpse Drivers to stay, thereby turning a profit."

"Corpses are not particular about their lodgings, so a poor environment is generally tolerated. However, a certain Corpse Driver eventually found the conditions so unendurable that he lodged a formal complaint with the headquarters of the Qingming Inn franchise. The main office was utterly mystified, asserting that this branch had closed years ago. Thus, the ruse was exposed."

"Having ascertained the facts, we intended to lie in wait and ensnare the rogue, but who would have thought he would slip through our fingers yet again!"

Lu Yang: "..."

Would the folk of Huangzhou truly stoop to such lengths merely for the sake of coin?