Chapter 1668: Changes

Zu'an was startled. Why was gunpowder being brought up again?

Although this world was one of cultivation, gunpowder existed here too. However, its power was far inferior to the hot weapons of his previous life, and it was also less effective than some skills of high-level cultivators in this world. But it was widely used in armies and mining industries due to its low cost and easy acquisition.

As if sensing his confusion, Yun Jianyue explained, "At that time, a shipment of gunpowder was being transported by the imperial court to Yi Prefecture. It was supposed to be handed over by King Yan, but it was intercepted midway. The Embroidered Envoy responsible for investigating the case was Jiang Zhong, and his investigation later concluded that the gunpowder had been stolen by the Demon Sect..."

"I am a failure. I barely notice whether the sun is shining or not, because I have no time. My parents couldn't support me, and I didn't have a high education. I was alone in the city, searching for a future. I applied for many jobs but was never hired. Perhaps no one wanted to employ someone who wasn't good at talking, didn't like to socialize, or didn't demonstrate sufficient ability."

"For three whole days, I only ate two pieces of bread. Hunger kept me awake at night. Fortunately, I had paid a month's rent in advance, so I could continue living in that dark basement, spared from the extremely cold winter wind outside. Finally, I found a job: a night watchman at a hospital, specifically for the morgue. Nights at the hospital were colder than I expected. The wall lamps in the corridors weren't lit, and it was dark everywhere. Only the faint light filtering out from the rooms helped me see where I was walking. The smell there was terrible. From time to time, bodies in body bags were brought in, and we would help move them into the morgue.

"It wasn't a great job, but at least it allowed me to buy bread. The free time at night could be used for studying, as hardly anyone wanted to come to the morgue unless a body needed to be brought in or taken out for cremation. Of course, I didn't have enough money to buy books yet, and I saw no hope of saving up. I have to thank my former colleague; if he hadn't suddenly left, I might not have even gotten this job. I dreamed of switching to day shifts. Sleeping when the sun came up and waking when night fell was making my body somewhat weak, and I'd occasionally get throbbing headaches.

"One day, the porters brought in a new body. I heard it was my former colleague who had suddenly left. I was a little curious about him. After everyone left, I pulled out the drawer and quietly unzipped the body bag. He was an old man, his face pale and bluish, covered in wrinkles, looking terrifying in the extremely dim light. He had little hair, most of it white. All his clothes had been removed; not a single piece of fabric was left on him.

"I saw a strange, bluish-black mark on his chest. I couldn't describe its exact shape; the light was just too dim at the time. I reached out and touched the mark; there was nothing special about it. Looking at this former colleague, I wondered if I would end up like him if I continued this path until I was old...

"I told him that tomorrow I would accompany him to the crematorium and personally take his ashes to the nearest free cemetery, so that those in charge wouldn't bother and just dump them in a random river or wasteland. This would cost me a morning of sleep, but it was alright; Sunday was coming, so I could catch up. After saying that, I arranged the body bag and put it back into the drawer. The light in the room seemed to grow even dimmer...

"After that day, every time I slept, I would dream of a thick fog. I had a premonition that something would happen soon, that eventually, something I didn't know if I could call 'human' would come looking for me. But no one believed me. They thought that working in such an environment had made me mentally unstable and that I needed to see a doctor..."

A male customer sitting at the bar looked at the speaker, who had suddenly stopped. "And then?"

The male customer was in his thirties, wearing a brown tweed jacket and light yellow trousers. His hair was neatly pressed down, and a simple, dark bowler hat lay beside him. He looked unremarkable, like most people in the tavern: black hair, light blue eyes, neither handsome nor ugly, lacking distinctive features. In his eyes, the speaker was a young man of eighteen or nineteen, tall and slender, also with short black hair and light blue eyes. However, his features were striking, instantly catching one's attention.

The young man gazed at the empty glass in front of him and sighed: "Then? Then I quit my job, came back to the countryside, and now I'm here chatting with you." As he spoke, a playful smile appeared on his face.

The male customer was momentarily stunned. "Was everything you just said just boasting?"

"Haha." Laughter erupted around the bar. As the laughter subsided slightly, a slender middle-aged man looked at the somewhat embarrassed customer and said: "Outsider, you actually believed Lumian's story? He tells a different one every day. Yesterday he was a poor wretch whose engagement was broken off, and today he's a morgue keeper!"

"Right, he goes on about 'thirty years on the east side of the Serenzo River, thirty years on the west side of the Serenzo River,' just spouting nonsense!" another tavern regular added. They were all farmers from the large village of Cordu, dressed in short jackets that were either black, gray, or brown.

The black-haired young man, called Lumian, slowly stood up, leaning his hands on the bar, and said with a smile: "You know, these aren't my own stories. They're all written by my sister. She loves writing stories and is even a columnist for something called the 'Fiction Weekly'." After speaking, he turned sideways, gestured to the outsider with an open hand, and smiled brightly: "Looks like she writes really well. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding."

The ordinary-looking man in the brown tweed jacket wasn't angry. He stood up as well and replied with a smile: "It was a very interesting story. What's your name?"

"Isn't it common courtesy to introduce yourself before asking someone else's name?" Lumian chuckled.

The outsider nodded: "My name is Ryan Coos. These two are my companions, Valentine and Leah." The latter part referred to a man and a woman sitting nearby.

The man was around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with powdered blond hair and eyes a shade darker than lake blue. He wore a white vest, a blue fine-wool jacket, and black trousers, clearly having dressed meticulously before leaving. He had a rather aloof expression and didn't pay much attention to the surrounding farmers and herders.

The woman appeared younger than both men. Her light gray hair was styled into a complex bun, covered by a white veil that served as a hat. Her eyes were the same color as her hair, and her gaze towards Lumian held undisguised amusement. She seemed to find the recent exchange simply entertaining. Under the tavern's gas wall lamps, the woman named Leah revealed a pretty, upturned nose and beautifully curved lips. In a rural village like Cordu, she was definitely considered a beauty. She wore a white, wrinkle-free cashmere fitted dress, paired with a beige short jacket and a pair of Maziel boots. Two small silver bells were tied to her veil and her boots, jingling as she walked into the tavern, drawing considerable attention and making many men stare. In their eyes, such fashionable attire was only seen in large cities like Bigor, the provincial capital, or Trier, the capital.

Lumian nodded at the three outsiders: "My name is Lumian Lee. You can just call me Lumian."

"Lee?" Leah blurted out.

"What's wrong? Is there something wrong with my surname?" Lumian asked curiously.

Ryan Coos explained for Leah: "That surname strikes fear. I almost couldn't control my voice just now." Seeing the puzzled looks on the faces of the surrounding farmers and herders, he further explained: "Anyone who has dealt with sailors or maritime merchants knows this saying that circulates among the Five Seas: 'Better to encounter pirate generals or even kings than to cross paths with someone named Frank Lee.' That person's surname is also Lee."

"Is he very terrifying?" Lumian asked.

Ryan shook his head: "I don't know, but if such a legend exists, he must be formidable." He stopped the topic and said to Lumian: "Thank you for your story. It's worth a drink. What would you like?"

"A 'Green Fairy'," Lumian replied without hesitation, sitting back down.

Ryan Coos frowned slightly: "'Green Fairy'... Absinthe? I should warn you, absinthe is harmful to the human body. This drink can cause mental derangement and hallucinations."

"I didn't realize the trends from Trier had reached here," Leah added with a smile from beside him.

Lumian said, "Oh. So people from Trier also like to drink 'Green Fairy'... For us, life is hard enough already. There's no need to worry about a little extra harm. This drink helps us relax our minds more deeply."

"Alright," Ryan sat back down and looked at the bartender. "One 'Green Fairy', and add a 'Spicy Heart' for me." "Spicy Heart" was a famous fruit brandy.

"Why don't *I* get a 'Green Fairy' too? I was the one who told you the truth just now! I can tell you everything about this kid!" the slender middle-aged man, who was the first to expose Lumian's daily storytelling, complained loudly. "Outsider, I can tell you still doubt the truth of that story!"

"Pierre, you'd do anything for a free drink!" Lumian retorted loudly.

Before Ryan could decide, Lumian added: "Why can't I tell it myself? That way I could get another 'Green Fairy'!"

"Because they wouldn't know whether to believe *your* version," the middle-aged man named Pierre said with a triumphant smile. "Your sister's favorite story to tell children is 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf,' and people who always lie inevitably lose their credibility."

"Alright," Lumian shrugged, watching the bartender slide a glass of pale green liquid towards him.

Ryan looked at him, inquiring: "Is that alright?"

"No problem, as long as your wallet can cover the drinks," Lumian replied, unconcerned.

"Then another 'Green Fairy'," Ryan nodded.

Pierre immediately broke into a wide smile: "Generous outsider, this kid is the biggest prankster in the village; you should definitely stay away from him. Five years ago, his sister Aurore brought him back to the village, and he hasn't left since. Think about it, before that, he was only thirteen. How could he have worked as a morgue keeper in a hospital? The nearest hospital to us is in Dalege, at the foot of the mountain, a whole afternoon's walk away."

"Brought back to the village?" Leah asked sharply. She tilted her head slightly, causing a jingling sound.

Pierre nodded: "Then he took Aurore's surname, 'Lee,' and even his given name, 'Lumian,' was chosen by Aurore."

"I've forgotten what I was originally called," Lumian said with a grin, taking a sip of absinthe. He seemed to feel no self-consciousness or shame about his past being revealed this way.