Claiming the Throne of Gods, Starting from the Rebirth of Nezha
Chapter 182: Coffin Shop

Chapter 182: Chapter 182: Coffin Shop

After parting ways with Han Dulong and Xue Ehu, Nezha used the Yin Yang Token he acquired to choose a household to enter.

This household consisted of four people: a couple, a son, and an elderly mother bedridden with illness.

He glanced at them; aside from the one confined to bed, the three other family members stood in a line before him, even the twelve-year-old boy, who stood obediently with his head bowed.

Perhaps to accommodate cultivators, the house was tidily arranged.

The house was a two-story building, with the family living downstairs, while rooms upstairs were reserved for cultivators.

On the beams hung two pork hooves, several strings of dried chili peppers, and dozens of corn cobs.

About their own clothing, though initially respectable, it had been washed so much it was faded, patched upon patch, almost ready to fall apart at a tug.

Just as Lu Ya said, by lodging here, no matter what request he made, he would be sucking their blood.

"It seems Daoxing Venerable really knows how to ’nurture people,’"

he mocked inwardly, taking half a slab of pork from the Qiankun Bag and placing it on the table, he said, "Fetch some greens and make me a dish of braised pork. The leftover meat is yours to keep."

With that, he ascended the stairs without looking back.

This made the three household members downstairs look at him in astonishment.

Their ancestors had lived here, and they had hosted cultivators, some with simple demands, others who made none and locked themselves away in cultivation upstairs.

A cultivator like Nezha, who even offered the materials for his meal, was rarely seen. Could this pork be some rare spiritual meat in the mortal world that we can’t find?

But if that were the case, why would he leave the leftovers to us?

The man couldn’t help but think this way, though Nezha had no other thoughts.

He simply didn’t want to be a bloodsucker.

Early the next day.

He practiced a set of martial arts taught by the Little Dragon Girl, the movements gentle, akin to Tai Chi, yet not concerned with Yin and Yang, nor with using force against force, only harmonizing the swirling qi and blood within.

After finishing, he planned to find Lu Ya and inquire about the Fir Forest in town, when he unexpectedly came across a coffin shop after walking only a few steps.

A town with tens of thousands of residents, life and death events, having a decent coffin shop was quite normal.

Yet, Nezha felt something was amiss with this coffin shop. He saw no one entering, only several helpers constantly carrying people out.

He stood and watched for half an hour and witnessed nineteen coffins being brought out.

If the town’s population died at this rate, they would have become extinct hundreds of years ago.

Yet, the town’s people, bustling about, saw this scene but found nothing peculiar.

So, Nezha walked into the coffin shop.

Looking around, the room was lined with coffins, wooden types like pine, peach, and elm, varied in design and size; yet no one was about.

"Strange, could it be the men carrying coffins out earlier were the last few?"

He pressed a single hand on a coffin, lifted it slightly, it must weigh at least a thousand pounds, and the carriers moved swiftly with just four men between them.

Though mortal, their physiques were even stronger than some God Absorption Realm cultivators who didn’t practice martial arts.

He looked left and right but saw no clue; after waiting a while without seeing anyone return, he had to step back out of the shop.

Just as he exited, four men carrying a coffin followed closely from behind.

They weren’t focused only on carrying; they conversed among themselves, and the bearded man at the front said, "How many have died this month, two hundred and seven, right?"

Another replied, "Yes, today’s deaths are especially many. Including those whose corpses can’t be found, in my view, within a day or two, even those not yet dead won’t easily survive."

"Exhausted,"

He was tired from carrying the coffin; the one inside it was truly dead.

Nezha glanced back, then turned to go back.

This time, he didn’t wait long before the ground shook, the wall behind the coffin shop split open, revealing a dark tunnel.

Then, four coffin bearers walked out from it, still talking, yet with Nezha standing right there, they ignored him, as if unable to see.

While mingling with Jiang Ziya in Zhaoge, he had seen similar coffin shops.

In Zhaoge City, gang territory, there was a secret passage behind some coffin shops, connecting to gang hideouts, used to discreetly transport bodies to the coffins after murders, carried mournfully by a dressed-up procession out of the city for burial.

But this secret passage seemed stranger.

Seeing they ignored him, Nezha slipped into the tunnel before it closed.

The passage was pitch black, without a glimmer of light, so he felt his way along the wall.

Soon, a low chant came from ahead, heavy with dissonant footsteps and men’s labored breathing.

Nezha stood against the wall as four coffin bearers passed, their conversation unfazed by his presence.

"So peculiar,"

In the darkness, they passed closely by, clothes almost brushing against each other, yet nothing was visible.

Nezha continued forward, moving steadily for nearly half an hour, not quickly, yet not slow, without encountering anyone else.

Pressing on, he finally saw a glimmer of light ahead.

Voices grew livelier as Nezha exited the tunnel to find the sky here differed from elsewhere.

All around were neatly lined houses, more than a hundred people busily crafting coffins with saws, hammers, axes.

They barely glanced at Nezha before resuming their work.

Their indifference caused a chill on Nezha’s back.

He approached a young man nailing wood and asked:

"Young man, what is this place?"

No answer came, but a query: "Are you a cultivator?"

Nezha nodded.

"Being a cultivator, isn’t this where all come in Heavenly Termination Town, how could you not know what this place is?"

Nezha frowned at this, lifting his gaze to see towering fir trees over thirty feet high, startling him with the thought he might already be in the legendary Eight Hundred Miles of Pine Forest.

Could those coffins be of cultivators who perished here?

Suddenly, he understood their cold gazes, as if seeing not a living being but a corpse.

Nezha asked, "Since this is the eight hundred miles of peril, how do you mortals dare make coffins here?"

The young man showed some impatience but dared not express it openly, as Nezha was a cultivator, so he answered honestly, "The Eight Hundred Miles of Fir Forest isn’t perilous everywhere; this is just the outskirts, a borderline of danger. If you want great treasures, you must venture to the center, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, just two more miles from here are beasts, further in, even for a cultivator, bringing back a body for burial in a coffin shop could prove difficult."

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