I Can Devour Spirits

When Zhu Xiaoqi mentioned it, Duan Rong finally understood that it was Xiao Yu who cut off Xiao Zongting’s cigarettes!

The incident originated on the night Xiao Yu was abducted. Xiao Zongting, seeing Xiao Yu taken away, became so distressed that he nearly choked on his own phlegm. If it weren’t for Duan Rong giving him a medicine pill left by Shen Ping to treat emergencies, things could have been truly dangerous.

Many people have died from phlegm blocking their hearts, unable to catch their breath.

Duan Rong told Xiao Yu about Xiao Zongting’s condition that same night, suggesting he should smoke less in the future. But unexpectedly, Xiao Yu was so direct that he entirely cut off Elder Xiao’s cigarettes.

Wasn’t this taking his old life away?

No wonder he was so anxious that he couldn’t sit still!

Knowing the cause, Duan Rong found Xiao Zongting’s anxious demeanor quite amusing.

The three of them bustled about for half the day, put up spring couplets at noon, and after lunch, started making dumplings.

Xiao Yu and Zhu Xiaoqi were both skilled, making beautiful dumplings, but Duan Rong’s clumsy hands made his look extremely unappealing in comparison.

The two began to mock Duan Rong, saying his dumplings looked ugly.

Duan Rong argued, ”Dumplings are for eating, not for looking at! What’s the use of making them pretty? They end up in the stomach just the same!”

By evening, just as it got dark, Xiao Yu busied herself in the kitchen, with Duan Rong assisting her.

Meanwhile, Xiao Zongting and Zhu Xiaoqi were already seated at the dining table, waiting to enjoy the New Year’s Eve dinner!

The flickering firelight in the kitchen illuminated Xiao Yu and Duan Rong. As Xiao Yu cooked, she would occasionally glance at Duan Rong’s face, reddened by the fire, and feel a warm joy in her heart!

The dishes and steaming dumplings were all served, and everyone, filled with happiness, started their feast!

After finishing, Xiao Zongting drank a few bowls of warm yellow wine and stumbled off to sleep. Zhu Xiaoqi, still injured and tired from the day, also went to bed early after eating.

Only Xiao Yu and Duan Rong remained, facing a table full of dishes, and started drinking happily. Both had a high tolerance, and as they drank, they began to compete in earnest...

At noon, Ximen Kankan had come knocking at Liu’s House. Ximen Yong, knowing Duan Rong was all alone, was worried he might spend the New Year quietly, so he sent Ximen Kankan to invite him to their place for New Year’s Eve dinner.

Ximen Kankan lingered for a while, and not finding Duan Rong, left reluctantly. When it was dark, Ximen Kankan paid another visit. By then, Duan Rong was in the kitchen, cooking with Xiao Yu, and naturally, Ximen Kankan found the place empty again!

Every household was bustling, and the sound of firecrackers could be heard everywhere.

But despite the lively incense offerings, the usually bustling City God Temple seemed even lonelier on this New Year’s Eve.

Ximen Yong, over sixty, with few relatives, spent every New Year’s Eve alone.

As soon as it got dark, the old temple priest finished cooking and filled his belly with steaming dumplings. After dinner, he took a lantern and a shovel and strolled to a sycamore tree by Wild Lake.

This had been his routine for years. Every January, he would bury a jar of good wine under this sycamore tree.

After a year underground, the wine’s aroma became stronger. The old temple priest relied on this jar of wine to get through many lonely New Year’s Eves.

The old temple priest carefully placed the lantern by his feet, then plunged the shovel into the ground, turning up the soil.

In no time at all, he unearthed a jar of wine. Dusting off the seal, he was about to leave with his lantern when something caught his eye—a small part of another jar sticking out. It only became exposed when he lifted his jar, causing some soil to collapse.

The old temple priest looked at the jar in his hand to make sure he hadn’t made a mistake, then said, ”Why is there another jar? Could it be that I buried two in January?”

Uncertain, he decided to unearth this other jar.

It was clearly not a wine jar he buried, as it wasn’t sealed at all. Curiously, he reached inside, and soon pulled out a round, sturdy object.

In the dim light of the lantern next to him, he saw it was a head!

Moreover, it was a dried-up head!

The skin on the head was shriveled like firewood, and the eye sockets held what looked like two lumps of cotton, where the eyes had dried up.

Seeing the head in his hands, the old temple priest almost coughed up blood. He was all too familiar with this thing.

”It’s the Filthy Blood Divine Skill?!”

The old temple priest hurriedly stuffed the dried head back in, cautiously glancing around to ensure no one was nearby, then reburied the jar.

As he carried the jar of wine back to the City God Temple, his heart pounded. ”Who on earth disposed of a corpse used for cultivation here? Next year, I’d better find a different place to bury the wine.”