Chapter 29: Corpse Stitcher

Chen Wuji is a fool in others' eyes, but he isn't truly foolish.

Speaking of this kind of execution, the next person forced to kneel at the East Market Entrance could be him.

He doesn't want his hot blood to become one of those bloody stains on the execution platform.

But Huo Sanniang still worries, and whenever she thinks of it she quietly reminds him.

She truly treats Chen Wuji like a child, fearing he might slip up accidentally.

"Wife, I'm not stupid; if you keep reminding me like this, you'll be the one who slips. Let's not say anything now—pretend nothing just happened. Anyway, I never admit I wet the bed as a kid, so I won't tell others, and they won't know." Chen Wuji said helplessly.

Huo Sanniang was really nervous.

Huo Sanniang gave a dry laugh, "Yeah, let's not talk about it; later I'll buy you something good to eat."

"What good stuff? Is what you gave me to eat last night tasty?" Chen Wuji asked with a grin.

Last night he had only gotten that far, hadn't eaten long, when Huo Sanniang forcibly isolated him.

Huo Sanniang's face suddenly turned red.

She raised her hand and lightly tapped Chen Wuji's head, chiding, "Don't talk nonsense about that either—I didn't give you anything to eat last night, understand?"

"Oh." Chen Wuji replied with a grimace, muttering, "But if you want to buy me something good to eat, I don't want anything else—just what I ate last night, that was tasty."

Huo Sanniang shook her head helplessly, "I really can't do anything with you; if you behave well today, I'll... I'll give you."

"Really? Then it's settled—today I'll absolutely obey whatever you tell me to do." Chen Wuji shouted excitedly.

Fortunately, although wife often forgets things, at least she follows through on what she says.

This point is highly commendable.

"Keep it down." Huo Sanniang, blushing, tugged Chen Wuji's arm, and they entered the coffin shop.

The coffin shop was filled with coffins—big and small, thick and thin, expensive and cheap—arranged in rows upon rows, like a coffin labyrinth.

When Chen Wuji and the two entered, the thin, soul‑drained coffin shop owner was busy.

He sat on a stool, holding a round piece of wood, and was creating it by referring to a picture.

Two men stood beside him, occasionally pointing out to the coffin shop owner where things differed and needed adjustment.

In the corner, a man whose head was covered with a straw mat lay on a wooden table stained with old blood.

Chen Wuji glanced over and roughly understood what was going on.

That person must have accidentally lost his head, and the coffin shop owner was carving a wooden head based on the picture.

The picture he was referencing was still a sea‑capture document.

The identity of that lying person was then obvious.

He was probably a recently executed fugitive, just unknown why his head was missing.

As Chen Wuji was staring intently, a pair of delicate small hands suddenly covered his eyes, "Wuji, don't look."

"Wife, let's wait outside first." Chen Wuji felt somewhat moved.

Having such a wife who constantly looks after him, what reason does he have not to strive hard?

Missing such a woman would be a lifelong regret.

Just then the coffin shop owner noticed them, put down the wooden head he was holding, and walked over.

"Young sir, you really have skill—you actually caught a yellow weasel. This place isn't pretty or clean; wait a bit at the door, I'll go get money!" The coffin shop owner glanced at Chen Wuji's waist, then instantly beamed.

Huo Sanniang responded and led Chen Wuji outside.

The two simply waited outside for a moment, and the coffin shop owner came out.

He gave a stiff smile, handed the money bag to Chen Wuji, and said, "Three hundred wen; I had already strung them earlier—count them."

Perhaps from constant dealings with the dead, his body also carried a strong yin aura.

Even when he laughs, it sounds grim and gloomy.

"I always need yellow weasels; if you catch any, just bring them here—don't worry about wasted effort." The coffin shop owner said.

Chen Wuji nodded, "Any amount is fine?"

"Yes, as long as you don't send me hundreds at once; tens I can take."

Money and goods exchanged hands, and the deal ended quickly.

Huo Sanniang couldn't resist asking curiously, "Shopkeeper, what happened to that person?"

"The prisoner executed this morning had his head snatched by wild dogs, and we couldn't retrieve it. These days even wild dogs have become spirits, knowing they can get full meals guarding the execution grounds; I have no choice but to carve a wooden head for them." The coffin shop owner sneered and shook his head.

"Alright, you may go; this place isn't clean, so I won't keep you for tea."

Chen Wuji picked up the crow hanging from his waist, "This—do you want it?"

The coffin shop owner glanced at it, his already dark face darkening further, "You wouldn't think I like eating this creepy‑crawly thing, would you?"

"I don't know, I was just asking." Chen Wuji said.

"Just in case."

"You should just throw this thing away. Originally I ought to give you a little hard‑work fee for your trouble hunting, at least so you don't suffer for nothing, but your misunderstanding of me has made me angry, so I won't give you the hard‑work fee." The coffin shop owner said bluntly.

Chen Wuji actually liked his frankness.

"You don't need this thing; indeed there's no need to pay you." He nodded and said.

"Wait a moment." The coffin shop owner drooped his face, rolled up his robe sleeve, pulled out three wen coins and threw them to Chen Wuji, "Please have a cup of tea—this isn't hard‑work pay; we laborers definitely won't give hard‑work pay for these few black birds."

Chen Wuji grinned, "Thanks, boss."

"What the hell, boss? I'm a corpse stitcher who also sells coffins!" The coffin shop owner cursed.

Chen Wuji's misunderstanding made him look rather depressed.

"Thanks, corpse stitcher who also sells coffins." Chen Wuji expressed thanks, took the money, took Huo Sanniang's hand, and left.

This place really isn't where normal people should stay; staying too long makes one feel psychologically uneasy.

Not far from the coffin shop, at the Fangmen they paid the market tax, then Chen Wuji and Huo Sanniang, carrying their baskets, entered the East Market.

Today doesn't seem to be a proper day; there are fewer pedestrians and merchants in the East Market.

Huo Sanniang found a stall; the two set down the baskets on their backs and began hawking like everyone else.

Since Chen Bushi didn't endorse the book today, Chen Wuji could only follow Huo Sanniang's suggestion and loudly hawk Python Meat.

Python Meat's gimmick was still quite strong; a crowd gathered here, and many onlookers came to watch the spectacle.

But it was still much like when they sold deer meat before—many watched, but few actually bought.

Even this time Chen Wuji's price differed from pork by only a single copper coin.

Most of the onlookers believed Python Meat was inedible and poisonous, and suggested Chen Wuji dump it into the foul gutter.

Chen Wuji almost felt like hitting them—a group of heartless people who, not understanding, still wanted to cut off his earnings.