Chapter 183 - Two-week Mark (Wuming Filler, Can Skip)

Wuming did not expect for him to do a good job with the transportation system. Sure, it took him longer, but it's a precaution from being traced. He took a bus then a train and started walking. The streets were mostly deserted and restaurants, coffeeshops, and bars were filled with warm light and people.

As much as he wanted warmth in this weather, he skipped those streets and moved farther away from the civilization. Compared to the other streets, his destination turned out to be a complete ghost town. Most of the business were closed and dark. Silhouettes of mannequin stood like frozen monsters from thrift shops and boutiques.

Finally, he reached the small shop with a bright red and green neon sign that was telling people that it was open. Wuming knew there was no one inside. He pulled the door open and the smell of burnt leaves entered his nose.

"Hello!" a woman greeted him. "Come in."

Wuming pushed past the bead curtain and entered the small space. There were no chairs and pillows littered the floor. Almost every inch was in a strange pattern and several candles lighted up the place together with the bright orange glow of the multiple lamps. It didn't look like there was a bigger source of fire but it was warm.

When he was informed that his target was a 'witch', he was basically looking for a huge cauldron in the middle of the room with green acid-looking liquid in it. To be honest, he felt a little disappointed. Disney gave him so much hope with witches. 

"You seem troubled, young man. What's your name?" asked the curly-haired woman in her forties. She was wearing something that resembeled a poncho. It looked heavy and uncomfortable. "Take a seat."

Wuming sat on the almost flat pillow and his eyes roamed around the place. There were certificates on the wall and pictures with customers. The woman poured her tea. 

"I can sense some dark energy around you, boy."

"What is it that you actually do?" he asked her.

"I talk to people," she said. "Then I give them advice."

"Are you like a lifecoach of some sort?"

The woman laughed, her wrinkled face wrinkling even more. "I don't cheer people up. I only tell people the truth that they are too afraid to tell themselves."

"Okay, like what?"

The woman shrugged. "In most cases, people are too afraid to let go. That's the root of their problems and of their sadness. When their mental health is out of the window, other aspects of their health follows. They notice sudden eating disorders, constant migraines, body pain, stomachache…" she took a sip from her chipped ceramic cup. "Why are you here? Something about your work?"

Wuming shook his head. "That's it? I just have to talk to you? There are no contracts or a sign-up sheet?"

The woman shook her head. "I'm here as a friend. A friend that will listen to you. And a friend that you will pay to listen." She winked. "Are you going to get started, or am I going to ask you why you're here?"

Wuming took his tea. "I am here to kill you."

"Kill me?" the woman laughed. "Kids nowadays… I can't keep up with you guys."

"I am not joking. My client's wife came to you for advice for their marriage and you told her to divorce him." He drank his tea. "He wasn't happy."

The woman blinked at him. "You mean Mrs—" her hands clamped on her mouth. "She really divorced her husband?!"

Wuming poured himself another cup. "Well, I don't really know all the details, why don't you tell me? Was he unfaithful?"

The woman's shoulders sagged. "No. In fact he was a really good husband. The problem was, he was too great at being a husband."

"What?"

"Mrs. Li wanted to be set free. She wanted to do a lot of things in her life and her husband was preventing her from doing the things she loved. She felt like she being confined. Caged."

"And then?"

"I told her that she should choose herself and go where her heart feels at peace."

"Based on your expression earlier, do you have any idea with what you are talking about? At least some experience with actually counseling people? What are those certificates for?" He pointed to the wall.

"They're edited."

"You're a fraud."

"No," she said sternly. "I just tell people what they want to hear."

Wuming pulled out a small canister from his pocket and dropped a bead of the gray tablet on the woman's cup. "It doesn't taste like anything. You won't feel anything. You'll die in two minutes."

Her nose flared and a tear escaped her eyes. "What if I don't drink?"

Wuming pulled out a dagger. "I'll take the easy way."

The woman stared at Wuming while she drank and he smiled. People had always wanted to appear strong in their last moments—where was that energy all their lives?

"You should've seen this coming," he told her. "How many lives could you have possibly destroyed just because you're voicing your opinions."

"I do what I can to earn money."

Wuming looked at the clock. "How does a person move on?"

The woman scoffed. "I thought I was a fraud."

He shrugged. "Tell me what I want to hear."

The woman shook her head. "I will tell you the truth. You're going to drown yourself in your vices. You will never get over that person. Ever."

"That's just what I wanted to hear," he grinned.

The woman's eyes rolled and she dropped dead. The tablet only gave her a minute of life. He found that it was easier when people does not really know the exact time.

Wuming poured himself another glass. "It's the two-week mark today," he told the dead lady sprawled on the floor. "It's the end of the line."

He drank the liquid and pocketed the cup. "On to the next."