Chapter 78: Divine Methods

The City God accepted the grand gift, and the two Underworld Officials took the lavish present without hesitation; the atmosphere in the parlor instantly became harmonious.

When the Earth God brought fresh seasonal fruits and a jar of clear wine, the three drank and ate together, laughing and chatting, both host and guests delighted.

Only when the Crimson Smoke Steed finally entered the jurisdiction of Yingxiang Mansion did the local Earth God and City God both sense it.

The City God drank two more cups of clear wine with the two Underworld Officials before saying, “This place is simply too poor—we have only fruits and clear wine, which hardly does justice to your esteemed presence. Fortunately, the prefectural capital has already prepared another grand feast.”

“Guan Tianyang, you must serve these two officials well—do you understand?”

“Yes, Master’s command!”

The tall general in chainmail first bowed to the City God, then smiled and escorted the two Underworld Officials out.

Before leaving, the two Underworld Officials bowed again to the City God, thanking him for his lavish hospitality.

Only after the front gate closed again did Xiang Huchen, who had been hiding in the inner room, exhale deeply and rush out, asking, “Ancestor, has the Crimson Smoke Steed returned? I felt it—my corpse is nearby.”

The City God replied coolly, “Stay in the inner room. Don’t stir up trouble. I’ll call you out when needed.”

He then turned to the Earth God and said, “Hansheng, I need your help again—take Yageli and bring Guan Huchen’s remains here.”

“Serving you is my honor, Master—don’t speak of ‘trouble.’”

The Earth God bowed to the City God with a smile and stepped outside.

Moments later, he returned to the courtyard with the green-faced, fanged ghost emissary Yageli, carrying a corpse wrapped in a Fire Rat Robe.

The City God carefully uncovered the Fire Rat Robe.

When Guan Huchen was killed by the Lord of the Radiant Sun, he wore full armor—from helmet to breastplate to boots, every piece intact.

After the “Eight Immortals Shooting the Sun” at Feixiandu ended, only part of the armor was removed by Guan Zhong and Xiao Yu to lighten the Crimson Smoke Steed’s burden.

The rest was left untouched, afraid of causing further damage to Huchen's remains.

Now, those twisted, deformed iron plates, tightly fused to Huchen’s body, were oozing yellow-green fluid from the seams.

It stank.

Huchen’s exposed face showed obvious swelling and slight decay.

“Good, good...” The City God exhaled deeply, his face no longer grim or worried—instead, a faint smile appeared. “It must be Guan Zhong and Guan Yu’s doing—they protected Huchen’s remains well.”

The green-faced, fanged ghost emissary leaned close, frowned, and said, “Master, Young Master is dead through and through, and his body is a mess—where’s the good?”

The Earth God Hansheng chuckled, “It’s not the mess we fear—it’s missing parts.

General Huchen’s body is remarkably complete—aside from severe blood loss, almost nothing is missing.

Essence and blood can be slowly restored.”

The City God nodded gently. “It seems the fresh corpses you prepared earlier are no longer needed. Hansheng, return them all to their graves and lay them to rest properly.”

“Though their souls have long entered reincarnation, and their former bodies are nearly severed from karmic ties, they still have families.”

“Sigh—if we can avoid even a little karma, I’ll have far less burden.”

The Earth God flattered, “Master, you overthink it—even if you took just a small part from those corpses, their families would never notice.

The dead are sacred; burial brings peace.

Who would dig up a freshly buried corpse the very next day?

What you take will eventually rot and merge with the soil—harmless to man, harmless to heaven and earth.

To use useless matter to revive a useful body—that is great merit!”

“That logic makes sense—but karma doesn’t care about logic! Even if I can satisfy all the rules of the Underworld and the Jade Emperor’s heavenly laws, once you do certain things, traces remain—and those traces are karma,” sighed the City God.

He then pointed to Huchen’s remains. “Hansheng, please prepare a quiet room, and gather clean cotton cloth, sharp blades, axes, saws, chisels, iron stakes, hammers, needles and thread, rootless water, and pure, ash-free wine...”

The Earth God hesitated. “As you see, my shrine is small—there are empty rooms, but they’re cramped, unsuitable for your divine arts.”

“I have an idea: use white cloth to enclose a space in the front courtyard, lit by candles—spacious and bright. What do you think?”

The City God glanced around. The courtyard wasn’t wide—about one zhang wide, two zhang long.

Roughly twenty square meters.

But compared to the six-seven square meter hall, the three-four square meter inner room and side chambers, this place instantly seemed “spacious and bright.”

“Do it,” said the City God. “Yageli, stand guard outside. During my ritual, let no one enter.”

The Earth God acted with great efficiency.

He wandered nearby and “borrowed” all the items the City God needed from wealthy households.

Once white cloth divided the courtyard in two, Yageli and Earth God Hansheng heard a clanging, clattering sound from within.

The City God began.

Through the white curtain, Hansheng could faintly see the City God’s shadow.

Sometimes he raised a chopping axe and struck hard; sometimes he held a chisel steady with one hand while hammering fiercely with the other; sometimes he sawed rapidly with a woodcutter’s saw, grunting; sometimes he exhaled sharply and yanked out a mass of viscera-like matter; sometimes he rolled up his sleeves and snapped off a long leg...

After treating the corpse like a blacksmith treating iron or a carpenter treating a mechanical beast, the City God finally unleashed his City God divine power!

A golden divine light descended, and a sizzling sound—like frying fatty meat—emerged.

Accompanying it was a pungent stench and thick, black-yellow smoke.

Gradually, the corpse odor and smoke faded and vanished—until not a trace of decay remained in the courtyard.

“Splash, splash, splash~~~” After another round of water rinsing, the City God called out: “Hansheng, remove the curtain—I’m done. Thank you, brother.”

“No, no!”

From the City God’s tone, Hansheng sensed relief and joy—he guessed the task was complete, yet feigned concern, masking three parts tension and four parts unease in his voice: “Has General Guan recovered?”

In truth, his hands never stopped—he was already gathering the curtains.

As he lifted the curtain, he saw Huchen laid on a wooden table.

His clothes and armor had been cut open and pried apart; shattered iron fragments and bloodstained rags lay in a messy heap on the ground—he was now completely naked.

But this handsome, bearded warrior now looked anything but appealing—even to those fond of male beauty.

Not just unappealing—he looked terrifying.

If Xiao Yu were here, she’d cry out: “My adoptive father is Frankenstein Guan!”

On Huchen’s face, arms, thighs, and torso, visible were countless stitched seams.

His skin tones varied—some patches deathly pale, others swollen and black, unevenly streaked with purple.

But the City God’s craftsmanship was excellent.

Though Huchen’s body bore many sutures, the stitches were fine, neat, and uniform—no loose threads protruded.

Upon closer inspection, they even held an artistic beauty.

“Far from fully recovered—but at least he’s alive.”

The City God wore a look of pride, surveyed the body, then called into the inner room: “Guan Huchen—return your soul!”

As he called, Huchen’s soul, powerless to resist, drifted out and landed directly on the wooden shell.

“Ugh...” Huchen truly came back to life.

His entire body ached unbearably; his throat felt like it was smoking.

Though every part of his body burned and itched, he could only feel it—he couldn’t control his limbs or torso, as if a membrane separated him from them.

“G-grandfather... it hurts...” he gasped.

“Good that it hurts—only the living suffer. The dead feel nothing.”

The City God walked into the hall, picked up the teapot he’d used to serve the Underworld Officials, and carried it over.

He pressed the spout to Huchen’s mouth and poured.

“Gulps, gulps...” Huchen felt more relief than ever—he was like parched earth, untouched by rain for three years, now suddenly drenched in spiritual rain.

He was so comfortable his toes and fingers began to twitch slightly.

Then, “Puke~~~”

The tea had moistened his throat—utterly blissful.

But once it entered his stomach, his belly churned violently.

Huchen couldn’t hold it—he pushed off the table, tilted his head, and vomited violently.

Dark red and black, a thick slurry—worse than the corpse stench.

After vomiting, he gasped twice, and the City God poured again—then he vomited again.

This cycle repeated five times—until the teapot was empty. Only then did the City God smile: “Now you’re truly alive. The White and Black Underworld Officials have no reason to claim your soul.”

Though Huchen kept vomiting, he gradually regained strength and retook control of his limbs.

“Grandfather, what tea is this? It’s divine nectar! My body still feels weak, but the unbearable torment has vanished—most of it.”

The City God replied, “It’s no divine nectar—just the ‘thought of tea’ separated from the people’s incense and prayers.

The thought of tea comes from ordinary folk—their daily experience of drinking tea.

The brewed tea is simply what commoners drink every day.

Now it’s just purer, clearer—and allows spirits and gods to taste the same flavor.”

“Though you’re alive now and the deathly miasma has been purged, impurities still linger inside you.

When filth meets pure tea, it triggers a reaction—stimulating your intestines to expel it.

Once your gut is cleared and the filth gone, the torment fades.”

The Earth God bowed to Huchen and smiled: “Congratulations, General Guan, you’ve returned to the living! The pillar of Great Shu has broken—and now mended! A blessing for all beings, joy for heaven and earth!”

Though still weak, Huchen struggled off the table and knelt before the Earth God, bowing deeply: “Huchen bows to the Earth God—thank you for saving my broken body! This grace, my Guan family will never forget!”

The City God watched from the side, stroking his long beard, nodding slightly, his face satisfied.

—Before spirits and gods, one must maintain propriety and reverence. Don’t expect to please them or gain favors—just don’t make them harbor resentment, lest they ruin your fate... even your life.

He himself was a spirit—he knew better than anyone how spirits crushed mortals from above.

Not even speaking of divine power or authority—just the spirits’ ability to monitor and inspect the mortal realm could easily cripple most humans.

True sages fear neither ghosts nor gods.

But mortals always make mistakes.

Ghosts and gods use their pens to record mortals’ sins and merit; the same act can be written as many entirely different stories. When sins or merit accumulate, the Netherworld directly alters a mortal’s “fate” (their earthly outcome).

“Guan Huchen, you may go.”

After Huchen bowed to the Land God, the City God waved his hand: “Return to the Guan Mansion early and settle in.”

Huchen blinked in surprise and said: “This is the abode of gods and immortals; I am but a lowly mortal—I ought to leave at once.”

“But I am not yet healed—I can barely ride a horse. Should I return to the Guan Mansion like this? It is still a thousand li away!”

When others are present, he tries his best not to call the City God “Taiye”; he refers to himself as “this humble servant.”

Though everyone knows what the City God is truly like, one must still maintain a veneer of propriety when avoiding suspicion.

When he was first brought to the Land God’s temple, he had been frantic with terror, screaming “Great Grandfather, save me!”—and the City God immediately sent away the Land Gods beside him for precisely this reason.