Lao Fu raised an eyebrow as he looked at the visitor. It was a woman, wrapped in a long bck coat with gold trim. The edges of the coat nearly brushed the ground, and the hood covered her face completely, making it impossible for anyone to see her features.

  "How did you die?" Lao Fu asked in his usual raspy voice, showing his yellow teeth as he spoke.

  "I died of illness," came the voice of an elderly woman. As she spoke, she coughed a few times, lowering her head.

  "What illness?" Lao Fu always liked to get to the bottom of things. It was his rule.

  "Weakness from the cold," the old woman replied, unable to stop coughing. This time, her body swayed a bit unsteadily, and she took a few steps back. Fortunately, she managed to steady herself by reaching out to grasp the table.

  Lao Fu watched as the elderly woman accidentally revealed her bony, withered hands, which looked almost like those of a corpse. He couldn't help but narrow his eyes; he enjoyed seeing such things.

  "The body will be sent to you by evening. Here," the old woman said, pulling a white bundle from beneath her tightly wrapped bck coat and handing it to Lao Fu.

  He took it from her.

  It weighed a full five hundred taels! Lao Fu gave it a slight shake, immediately sensing the amount of silver inside. This was a skill he had developed over the year. Satisfied, he tucked the silver away in his pocket.

  "I know you have your shop's rules," the old woman continued, pulling another white bundle from the depths of her heavy bck coat. "My only request is that you use the finest fabric." With that, she tossed the second bundle to Lao Fu.

  A satisfied smile spread across Lao Fu's face, his mouth full of yellowed teeth gleaming with a dirty shine. His eyes were now narrowed into a mere slit.

  Evening came.

  A coffin was delivered to the shop on time. Lao Fu stretched out both hands and forcefully pushed the cart carrying the coffin toward the small wooden house.

  The wooden house was small and sparsely furnished. Aside from a table for offerings, there was a wooden bed for the corpse, a square stool beside the bed, and a basket next to the stool filled with tools and fabric.

  Lao Fu closed the wooden door and opened the second white bundle the old woman had given him. Inside, he found a collection of incense and gold ingots meant for the dead. He took a fire striker from the basket, lit one of the incense sticks, and pced it in the copper dish on the offering table. He then casually pced a few of the gold ingots next to it on the table.

  Next, he retrieved a bottle of his prized liquor from the basket, tilted his head back, and took several quick swigs. The warm liquor slid down his throat, instantly making him feel refreshed and invigorated. Everything was prepared. It was time to begin.

  The deceased was a young woman, seemingly still unmarried. Unfortunately, Lao Fu couldn't help but shake his slightly rge, uneven head. He reached for his special silver scissors and selected two pieces of high-quality blue and yellow fabric. With just a gnce at her, he was able to accurately cut the fabric to the right size, down to the finest detail.

  In no time, Lao Fu had finished cutting the garment. He carefully draped the clothes over the woman's body, then reached into the basket for his leather pouch. He unfurled it, revealing a variety of sewing needles, all neatly arranged. Lao Fu felt a surge of excitement. Sewing the clothes directly onto the dead was his favorite part of the process. He picked up a size five needle, eagerly threaded it with white silk, and tied a knot at the end with a graceful motion.

  He slowly approached the woman, intending to start with her neck, a habit he had long perfected.

  The sewing needle stopped just five inches from the woman′s neck. Lao Fu felt his vision blur momentarily. He rubbed his eyes hard, but it wasn′t just a trick of the light—it was real!

  The needle silently fell to the floor, and Lao Fu almost toppled off his stool. He saw clearly that there was already a ring of stitched needle holes around the woman's neck, and the size of those needle holes perfectly matched the sewing needle he had in his hand.

  There was only one person in the world who could do this kind of work—Lao Fu. Though he had perfected this skill, he himself could never remove the garments he had sewn onto a corpse. How could this be? The stitching on this woman's body was already in pce, and her body was intact.

  The woman′s body was covered with needle holes in multiple pces, and the positions of the holes matched Lao Fu′s sewing technique exactly. What was even more arming was that there were needle holes around her eyes, nose, mouth, and ear...

  Only those who died an unnatural death could be sewn this way.