Nan Zhi and the Wang family could also be considered to have had some history of bad blood between them.
A while back, when the tiger-changs were devouring people and the yamen runners were trapped on Wenshan, several people had witnessed with their own eyes that Nan Yi had clashed with Wang Fugui’s nephew, Zhou Dalang.
Zhou Dalang had run his foul mouth, displeasing Nan Yi, who gave the bastard a thorough beating, knocking out two of his front teeth.
Later, Zhou Dalang died a tragic death in the tiger’s maw, unwittingly turned into one of its chang ghosts, and was subsequently eliminated by Nan Zhi along the way.
Wang Fugui was Zhou Dalang’s maternal uncle.
With Zhou Dalang dead, there was no way the Wang family wouldn’t investigate what happened that day on Wenshan, and why Zhou Dalang alone had died.
Among the common folk in the streets, busybodies spread gossip in secret, claiming Nan Zhi had harbored selfish motives when saving people that day.
Although only a few people said this, those with ulterior motives inevitably took it to heart.
—Hence why Young Master Wang made such a claim, saying Nan Zhi owed their family a life.
“Whoever said that is talking pure bullshit.”
Nan Zhi wore a solemn expression, resting her chin in her hand as she cursed in all seriousness:
“I asked around. That idiot Zhou Dalang brought death upon himself.
In the dead of night, he ran into a beautiful woman in the mountains, yet far from suspecting her true nature, he willingly stripped off his official uniform and saber...
How is that any different from washing yourself clean, jumping into a pot to boil yourself, and serving yourself up to the tiger on a silver platter?
Besides, I’m no Bodhisattva out to deliver all living beings from suffering. If I can save someone, I save them; if I can’t, who cares if they die?
He was a coward who feared death, became the demon tiger’s chang ghost, and tricked his former colleagues to go to their deaths. A person like that...
I merely burned his bones and sent him on his way in death. Letting him enter the reincarnation cycle instead of scattering his soul to the winds was already an act of great mercy.”
At this point, Nan Zhi paused, cracking her knuckles with loud pops:
“The Wang father and son actually dare pin Zhou Dalang’s death on me? And they’re plotting to suppress me with power and influence, even planning to hire people to smash up my family’s butcher shop?
I really don’t get it. How could they think that someone with the power to easily kill them would ever compromise before worldly power?
What, do wealthy and powerful people have an extra head or an extra life compared to everyone else?”
What a joke. She was already cultivating immortality, and they expected her to revere worldly power?
Were they out of their minds?
What kind of cultivation would that even be?
If it were anyone else who had suddenly joined the Demon Suppression Division, they might still act with restraint and feel wary upon overhearing the Wang father and son’s conversation.
But what did Nan Zhi have to fear?
To her, this was just a game. Even if she slaughtered every single NPC across the entire server, it wouldn’t affect reality in the slightest.
—Of course, considering the game’s future replayability, favorability ratings with various factions, and hidden achievements, Nan Zhi naturally wouldn’t do something like that.
But what she was facing now was a wicked father and son harboring malicious designs against her and the Nan family.
Killing them wouldn’t burden her conscience in the least.
“That request you wanted me to agree to earlier—was it to kill the Wang father and son?”
Nan Zhi enthusiastically suggested to the ghost before her:
“Say no more. Issue the quest right now, and I’ll hurry back and hack those two bastards to death.
No, hacking them to death is too bloody. How about poisoning them? No, that looks too ugly...
Ah, right! I watched my dad slaughter pigs and bleed them before. He’d slit the pig’s throat first, then slowly drain out all the blood.
While the pig dies slowly from blood loss that way, the meat doesn’t have a strong gamy smell.
If all else fails, I’ll give the Wang father and son a slit across their necks too. That way, it’s good for you and good for me. What do you think?”
Opposite her, Wanniang sat weightlessly beside the well dressed in hemp mourning attire, her eyes gazing at Nan Zhi spookily:
“...Sister Zhi’s words make it genuinely hard to tell which one of us is the murderous evil ghost.”
In the dead of night, the City God Temple was completely empty. The entire backyard was so quiet that only the hooting of owls could be heard.
The old temple keeper had long since fallen asleep. The room was pitch-black, with only the occasional rustle of him tossing and turning or coughing.
Wanniang sat by the well that was said to bless matrimonial matches, holding a piece of white bone in her hand as she slowly combed her long, loose hair, stroke by stroke.
Her face was an ashen blue-grey, her skin appearing as if coated in a thick layer of powder, yet a closer look revealed that her entire skin possessed the stark whiteness of a paper figure.
Wanniang had been strangled to death, so the long tongue hanging from her mouth drooped down past her chest, unable to retract. At first glance, one might easily mistake it for a blood-red scarf draped over her chest.
Late at night in a dilapidated temple, by a well, sat a long-tongued female ghost in mourning robes, leisurely combing her hair.
If someone were unfortunate enough to pass by and witness this scene, they would likely be scared out of their wits.
Nan Zhi blinked, putting on an innocent expression:
“Ahem, I just thought the atmosphere was a bit too tense earlier, so I wanted to tell a joke to cheer you up. Why take it so seriously?”
Wanniang: “...”
No, when you described how to slaughter pigs just now, you didn’t look like you were joking in the slightest.
Which one of them was the soul-reaping ghost after all?
“All right, let’s talk business.”
Nan Zhi coughed lightly, steering the conversation back on track:
“You’ve been so sincere and open with me, Wanniang, just like an elder sister. I promised before to do something for you that ‘doesn’t violate heavenly principles or treat human lives like grass.’
Today, I visited the Wang family and learned by chance about the past history between the Qu and Wang families. I suppose now is the time for me to fulfill my promise.”
“Did Wang Fugui tell you about the grudge between the Qu family and him?”
Wanniang’s hand combing her hair slowed down. Her brow furrowed slightly as she said coldly:
“A heartless, ungrateful scoundrel like him would never tell you the truth.”
“Wang Fugui has been in business for years, so he’s naturally skilled at talking to people with sweet words and spinning lies to ghosts.
I merely eavesdropped on a bit of the father and son’s private chat.”
Nan Zhi shrugged. Looking around and finding nowhere to sit, she simply sat beside the well, just like Wanniang:
“What exactly happened to the Qu family all those years ago? And Wang Fugui, what was his relationship with you...?”
“Even though twenty-nine whole years have passed since those events, I have never dared forget.”
Wanniang set down the white bone in her hand and let out a soft sigh, a trace of nostalgia seemingly appearing in her eyes as she looked at Nan Zhi:
“Back then, I was at the prime of my youth, just like you.
For three generations, my Qu family were merchants. By the time it came down to my father, Qu Chengling, we began selling wine.
From an ancient book, my father figured out a brewing recipe called ‘Immortal Drunk.’ Legend has it that once brewed, its fragrance can captivate even the immortals in heaven...”
Qu Wan was Qu Chengling’s only daughter. After her mother gave birth to her, there was never any news from her womb again.
Although Father Qu wanted a son to inherit the family business, he was destined for few offspring. Even by the time Qu Wan turned eleven, Mother Qu’s belly never swelled again.
Regretful as Father Qu was, seeing that his only daughter was intelligent and gifted with a sharp mind—capable of learning yeast-making from the distillery’s Head Brewer at a young age—he finally gave up on the idea of having a son.
—His only daughter was smart and clever. At worst, he could recruit a matrilocal son-in-law in the future so that any children born would bear the Qu surname, and the distillery would remain in the Qu family’s hands.
From then on, Father Qu spared no effort in nurturing his daughter, teaching her hands-on how to select ingredients, make yeast, steam the mash, and discharge the mash...
He even passed the recipe for “Immortal Drunk” entirely to Qu Wan.
Qu Wan truly did not disappoint Father Qu’s expectations. Not only did she learn rapidly and grasp concepts instantly, but aside from personally brewing wine alongside the Head Brewer, she also improved every single flaw in the “Immortal Brew” recipe.
Thus, the wine she brewed became immensely popular, and the fame of “Immortal Brew” skyrocketed. Every single day, long lines of customers crowded before the entrance of the Qu Family Distillery to buy wine.
Rate on N.U.
