Chapter 251: It’s You!

After seeing off Da Niu and his father, Wang Lin sat by the stove. He was suddenly filled with emotion; ten taels of gold was a large sum for a Mortal, but to a Cultivator, it was worthless dirt, not even worth a glance.

He sat quietly in the shop, picked up a piece of wood, and began carving with the movement of the carving knife in his right hand.

Time flew by, and another three years passed. Da Niu’s family shop had more than doubled in size, and business was indeed much better than his mother had imagined. But once business improved, Da Niu’s free time decreased, and he spent his entire days forging iron with his father.

Only after closing the shop did Da Niu have time to drag his tired body, holding a pot of fruit wine, to Wang Lin’s place to watch him make wood carvings.

Da Niu’s physique had become increasingly robust, likely due to years of forging iron. The seventeen-year-old young man wore only thin shirts even in the dead of winter, feeling no cold whatsoever.

However, the wrinkles on his parents’ faces gradually deepened.

Wang Lin’s appearance had also changed compared to six years ago. He no longer looked like a young man but had entered middle age, with a wrinkle slowly appearing on his face.

He had deliberately done this using a Spell. After all, if a person’s appearance didn't change at all over six years, it would be an incredible matter for the kind and simple neighbors around him.

Over these last three years, Xu Tao’s visits had become more frequent, coming almost once a month, offering large amounts of gold, silver, and fine wine. His intention to curry favor was obvious, and sometimes he mentioned that these items were tributes from the Young Lord Your Highness.

Wang Lin had no interest in this Young Lord. The sole reason he remained in the Capital City was to experience the feeling of a Mortal, thereby allowing his cultivation to achieve a Breakthrough.

Given his status, he was simply too lazy to participate in the power struggles among Mortals.

In the late autumn of this year, the leaves of the few willow trees lining the street slowly fell off with a rustling sound as the wind blew, carried far away by the breeze, becoming rootless leaves.

Fallen leaves were visible everywhere on the street. Wang Lin walked out of the shop, dressed in thick clothes and wearing a fur hat. If anyone from the State of Zhao or the State of Chu saw Wang Lin now, they would definitely not recognize him as Wang Lin, the Evil Star who dominated the scene, killed countless people, and had blood on his hands back then.

Even some Cultivators who had fought him would absolutely fail to recognize him.

At this moment, he looked no different from a Mortal. This was not just external resemblance, but spiritual similarity; even deep within his bones, there was no difference.

After six years of Mortal Integration, Wang Lin had completely become a Mortal. Now, his face looked slightly aged. Although his body was still straight, he appeared no different from a middle-aged Mortal who had spent his life busy working.

There was only one point where he differed slightly from Mortals: his eyes were clearly black and white, free of any impurities, faintly containing a hint of brilliance that made him seem extraordinary.

In these last three years, Wang Lin had not meditated once, nor had he Cultivated once. Even the Red Mist outside his body had, two years ago, been unconsciously refined by him into a Blood-Colored Bead, which he stored in his Storage Pouch.

Stepping out of the shop, a gust of wind carrying the chill of autumn hit him. Wang Lin tightened his collar, closed the shop door, and slowly walked into the distance.

Just then, a rather sturdy young man emerged from the ironware shop across the street. He was holding a bucket of discarded charcoal. After leaving the shop, he immediately saw Wang Lin, grinned, and said, “Uncle Wang, going to see a show again?”

Wang Lin turned around and laughed, “Da Niu, fetch me a pot of wine.”

The young man acknowledged him, dumped the charcoal aside, and hurried into the shop. Before long, he ran back with a wine pot, his eyes showing concern, and said, “Uncle Wang, you’re getting on in years. Drink less wine; just a sip to warm yourself up is enough.”

Wang Lin nodded with a smile, took the wine pot, patted Da Niu’s shoulder, turned, and slowly departed.

Da Niu watched Wang Lin’s retreating figure, a bitter feeling in his heart. In these six years, the Uncle Wang he saw as omnipotent had aged considerably. He still remembered the Uncle Wang from six years ago—that heroic face and eyes like stars.

One vivid, lifelike wood carving after another had taken shape in his hands.

He always remembered that Uncle Wang had once said that when he made a lot of money, he would go back and marry the wife waiting for him. But six years had passed in the blink of an eye, and Da Niu had never seen Wang Lin’s wife. He stopped asking about it.

Da Niu sighed and returned to the shop. His father was also getting old, and Da Niu was now doing most of the main work in the shop. Even after closing, there was still much work to be done. The habit he had formed in his youth of often watching Wang Lin make wood carvings could no longer continue.

Now, he could only spare some time every few days to go and keep this lonely Uncle Wang company.

In the late autumn, the wind carried a biting chill. Wang Lin walked slowly the entire way. After a short while, he finally arrived at an inn at the street corner. As soon as he entered, the waiter inside—a quick-witted young man with a towel draped over his shoulder—immediately smiled and said, “Ho-yo, Shopkeeper Wang is here! Please come in quickly.”

Wang Lin entered the room, took off his fur hat, and laughed, “I don’t have any silver for tips, so your enthusiasm won’t help.”

The waiter chuckled and said, “Look at you, sir. The manager instructed me that the first spot by the window on the east side is always reserved for you.” With that, he quickly walked a few steps, reached the window seat on the east side, swept the towel across it, bowed, and stepped back.

Wang Lin sat down on the long bench. Before long, the waiter brought several small dishes and a small charcoal pot with boiling water. Wang Lin placed the wine pot in his hand into the small pot and began warming the wine.

Occasionally pouring a cup to drink, Wang Lin sat there watching people continuously enter the inn. Gradually, the inn became more crowded. After about half an hour, several performers who played instruments and sang came out from the back room. As soon as they appeared, cheers erupted in the inn, making it quite lively.

Among these performers was a woman of considerable beauty. Most of the people in the inn had actually come to see her.

The woman’s beautiful eyes darted about, and with the movement of her water sleeves, she began to sing.

Her voice was quite pleasant, drawing continuous applause and praise from the patrons in the inn. In an instant, the atmosphere reached a climax.

Wang Lin watched the woman perform with a smile, drinking his fruit wine. He had been doing this for over a year.

After a short time, a slightly plump middle-aged man, dressed in a thick cotton jacket, hurried out from the back room. He quickly came to Wang Lin’s side and sat down. The waiter respectfully served him a pot of wine.

The plump middle-aged man immediately filled his cup, drank it in one gulp, looked at Wang Lin, and said awkwardly, “Shopkeeper Wang, this…”

Wang Lin picked up his wine pot, took a drink, and laughed, “Shopkeeper Li, I’m not here to collect rent today, so don’t worry.”

The plump middle-aged man immediately sighed in relief and said with a fawning smile, “Business is bad, ah. Don’t look at how many people I have here now—it cost me a fortune just to hire this opera troupe. Alas, in this day and age, business is hard to do.”

Wang Lin smiled and didn't speak, quietly watching the performance. This plump middle-aged man’s surname was Li, but Wang Lin still didn't know his given name. Two years ago, this man found Wang Lin, mortgaged this shop, and desperately begged to borrow twenty taels of gold. He still hadn’t repaid the money. The shop now belonged to Wang Lin.

In the past year, seeing Wang Lin come almost every day, he felt uneasy and often came over to sound him out.

As the performer’s beautiful eyes turned, the men in the inn cheered. Just then, a rather lewd voice came from outside the inn: “Yo, this little lady sings well! She lured me all the way from North City. Good!”

As the voice arrived, an old man wearing a gray cotton robe walked in. The old man’s hair was messy, his face was bruised, and there were several large footprints imprinted on the breast of his coat.

As soon as he entered, he immediately cheered loudly. The waiter frowned and scolded, “Where did this beggar come from? Get out! We have no money today!” Saying this, he stepped forward to push him away.

The old man glared and said, “You touch me! If you dare to touch me, I’ll lie here and won’t get up! I came here today to listen to the opera!”

The moment Wang Lin saw the old man, a sharp glint that hadn't appeared in his eyes for years flashed. This old man was none other than the person who had tricked Wang Lin into buying him a meal six or seven years ago.

The inn manager sitting opposite Wang Lin, the plump middle-aged man, immediately frowned, stood up, and hurried to the doorway. He searched his pockets for a long time, finally pulled out a copper coin, threw it to the old man, and said, “Here’s your money, now hurry up and leave. How unlucky.”

The old man took the copper coin, bit it with his teeth, getting copper rust on his mouth, and grinned at the waiter, saying, “Hmm, it’s real. Harder than gold. See? Your manager is sensible, hmph.” Saying this, he tossed the copper coin, which landed in the waiter’s hand, and said proudly, “A pot of tea!”

Then, his gaze swept around and landed on Wang Lin. He walked over, not because he recognized Wang Lin, but because Wang Lin’s table was the only one in the inn with just one person.

The waiter froze, looked at the copper coin in his hand, then at the manager. He had seen plenty of beggars, but this was the first one who bit the coin and then used the money to buy tea.

The middle-aged man’s face twitched. He rolled up his sleeves, about to throw the old man out, but just then, Wang Lin raised a hand and said, “Forget it.”

The middle-aged man immediately stopped, hesitated, mumbled a few words, and turned to walk toward the back room.

The old man chuckled, looked at Wang Lin, and said, “You…” He had only said one word before he suddenly froze, staring intently at Wang Lin. After looking closely for a while, a strange look appeared on his face, and he exclaimed in surprise, “It’s you!”