Chapter 187: Blood Bank, Coffin Building

At the end of March, Louis received his acceptance letter from Harvard University.

Yulunka officially secured his enrollment at Harvard University, expected to begin in early September that autumn.

Meanwhile, under Louis’s arrangement, Haley bought a house nearby, enrolled at Lake Ground High School, and, due to her age, is scheduled to attend MIT this year.

Five months later.

The time had arrived at the end of August.

Early morning.

In a square in Orlando, a white building was surrounded by a crowd—people of every race: Black, white, Chinese…

Even social class appeared blurred.

One could see homeless vagrants alongside well-dressed men checking their watches, and ordinary housewives.

No matter their class, everyone here had only one purpose.

The white building slowly opened its doors, and a group of staff in white coats, marked with red crosses, began collecting information at tables.

“David Drayton, resident of Fragrant Fruit Street, born in… no hereditary illness history… May I see your driver’s license?”

“Alright, registration complete. Please come in. Our staff will conduct a blood test; if there are no issues, you may proceed with donation.”

The man named David Drayton nodded, then hesitantly asked, “Is it really thirty dollars for one donation here?”

At this question, everyone in the queue quietly perked up, glancing over repeatedly.

“You’re mistaken,” the staff member corrected.

“Oh, Xie Te, I knew it—how could it possibly be ten dollars more than other blood banks?”

“Fake? Damn it! You’re scamming us!”

“My child is waiting for food today—I’ve got almost no money left…”

“… ”

The crowd grew restless.

The staff member then added, “Precisely: thirty dollars for your first donation. Each additional visit this month increases the payment by ten dollars. You can donate plasma eight times a month—that’s a maximum of one hundred dollars per visit.”

“Of course, these are plasma rates. For whole blood, it’s two hundred dollars per donation.”

“All payments are real and settled on-site.”

The staff member pointed to a bank beside them.

Hearing this, everyone exchanged glances, then erupted into murmurs—most wore smiles, for the pay was truly excellent.

The average monthly wage for working-class families was only two thousand five hundred dollars; with the current unemployment wave, many earned less. If one donated plasma eight times a month, they’d earn five hundred twenty dollars—enough to subsidize household expenses.

Many housewives and vagrants showed excitement; only those in decent suits among the working class looked dissatisfied—but none left the line.

Clearly, they needed the money too.

“Wonderful—it’s real!”

“Kano Company is truly kind.”

“I can buy my child an extra loaf of bread.”

“Phew… thank goodness this place exists. At least it’ll help us get by.”

“… ”

As the crowd surged inside, the staff inside the white building became overwhelmed. Though blood extraction was simple, the sheer volume of people made efficiency essential—and thus, they grew busy.

Fortunately, they were no longer new to this; though hectic, they worked with order and precision.

Louis, observing the scene, was thoroughly satisfied.

Beside Louis stood Asen, dressed as a gentleman, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses. “Little Louis, how do you like Uncle Two’s suggestion?”

Louis had not stopped smiling since the beginning, his grin wide and unbroken. “Excellent. Perfect.”

The unemployment wave was even more severe than he’d imagined.

Since establishing the blood bank in April, it had been packed every day—especially after the family’s professional manager introduced a tiered marketing system.

To earn the higher monthly payouts, these people became completely tied to his blood bank, spreading word of it further and further, drawing ever larger crowds.

New blood banks had to be built—now not just in Orlando, but in Miami too; city blocks, suburbs, counties, towns—all were being covered with Kano Blood Banks.

The collected blood was partly used by Louis to refine essence-blood, filling the Blood River Pearl. Already, the pearl’s blood had forcibly pushed its seals to the tenth layer. He felt that, if this continued…

This magic artifact might reach completion faster than his own cultivation.

The rest was processed into various blood products and sold externally.

Buyers included hospitals, health centers, and foreign nations—especially England, a country with massive blood shortages.

These were key clients.

Monthly profits were guaranteed.

Watching these Americans, smiling as if Kano Company were doing good deeds, Louis sighed.

Who says national strength equals public wealth?

He saw little of it here.

It was worse than during the standoff period.

In a developed nation, selling blood to feed one’s family had become common…

“Stop building new blood banks for now. Slow down the expansion,” Asen suddenly said.

Louis’s eyes flickered, then he nodded. He understood why: though the unemployment wave was fierce, it had only just begun—still expanding, not yet fully unleashed. This was a process to be handled gradually.

“Uncle Two, how is Grandfather doing?” Louis changed the subject.

Asen paused, lit a cigarette. “That building is nearly finished—within days. Little Louis, are your claims true?”

Louis smiled. “Of course.”

Asen drew a deep breath, slowly exhaling a smoke ring.

Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes gleamed like crystal. “Good. Very good.”

“Can this ability be used on others?”

Louis raised an eyebrow, looking at his uncle. “Uncle Two, it can—but are you certain?”

Asen swallowed, took a deep breath, and released another smoke ring. Louis waved his hand slightly; all the smoke coalesced into a small sphere and was flung outside.

He understood his uncle’s thoughts.

Honestly, when this technique first appeared, Louis had already considered its potential.

Since ancient times, how many powerful figures have been limited by lifespan?

Controlling lifespan meant monopolizing an extremely rare essential resource. In this capitalist nation, one could easily rise to extraordinary status through it.

But!

Everything has its cost.

Not to mention whether this mysterious power would provoke backlash from churches or similar forces—simply the capital giants and bureaus, like hyenas, would never let the Kano family keep it alone.

Most importantly, it would expose Louis completely to the eyes of the Shangliushe Society.

At that point, countless troubles would surely follow.

Asen finally extinguished his cigarette. “Greed drove Adam and Eve out of Eden. It seems I’ve committed the most primal sin.”

Greed clouds judgment—it’s normal. As long as one can regain calmness, it’s manageable.

“Little Louis, you decide for yourself. I shouldn’t be the one speaking of this.”

Louis nodded.

At that moment, Asen answered his phone, listened briefly, then hung up and turned to Louis. “Alright, our conversation must pause—you said the building is finished.”

Building a coffin-shaped structure in five months was incredibly fast—even astonishingly so. Of course, this was thanks to money: three shifts, ample materials, unlimited funding.

Under such conditions, construction speed naturally soared.

But when Louis arrived in Miami and saw the building, he finally understood why it was so fast.

The main structure had merely been erected—everything else, including interior finishes, remained untouched.

Max, Grandfather Karl, the old steward Fu, Louis, and Uncle Asen all stood before the coffin-shaped building.

“Little Louis, what do you think this building should be used for?” Karl asked, leaning on his cane.

“How about a low-cost apartment?”

“To aid the impoverished, charge minimal rent, offer monthly welfare, and require all residents to sign a voluntary agreement before entry,” Louis declared firmly.

“Also, the elderly and critically ill cannot reside here. Each person may stay no longer than five years—after that, they must leave.”

To absorb life, consent must be voluntary. And since this practice was already on the edge, it was best to draw minimal life from each person—hence Louis’s rules.

Karl nodded, agreeing with Louis’s idea.

Such matters were best treated as transactions. Otherwise, stealing lifespan from others felt like deepening one’s sin.

Especially since he often spoke with Fu, and had come to believe in Daoist karmic burdens and Buddhist cause-and-effect.

Then Louis entered the building with his tools.

“Coffin-Blessing for Longevity” was not merely about building a coffin-shaped house—that was folk superstition, misinformed and crude. The true method had precise rituals.

Louis followed the instructions on the golden page: placing mirrors in appropriate locations, burying blood-written strips bearing Grandfather’s birth details in each room, and ensuring every room had no threshold…

He meticulously checked countless rules, walking the entire building.

Only then did he step out and stand at a position forming a triangle with the building.

Now, under his Spirit Eye, the coffin building had changed—threads of mysterious suction had formed, drawing in surrounding forces.

This was feng shui.

This location had been personally chosen by Louis.

Concealing wind, gathering qi, drawing in the life-energy of the lush trees from nearby parks and gardens…

"Feng shui and folk customs: use a coffin to lock lifespan, nourish the body with feng shui, draw life through a pact, and extend yang lifespan by twenty years!"

"In ancient times, wouldn't this count as a small act of defying heaven?"

Louis muttered to himself, yet his head unconsciously turned to the sky, watching for a bolt of lightning to strike and kill him.

Defying heaven always invites heavenly calamity and human calamity.

What changes might it bring in this other world?

(End of Chapter)