Having dealt with the police, there was still one matter that needed tending to. That was the instruction from the Mother-in-law regarding the shírén míng chóng (Man-Eating Underworld Worm) that would help her shed her undying existence.

As a child, I once heard a story about eternal life. The plot went like this: an emperor became utterly obsessed with achieving immortality, spending his days immersed in the elixirs concocted by alchemists. His health deteriorated rapidly, and the arrival of his final hour seemed imminent. In desperation, he issued an urgent decree across the land: whoever presented him with a true elixir of life would be granted the rank of a First-Rank Duke. The decree remained unanswered for a long time, as no one dared respond. Eventually, a charlatan spotted the bounty and presented his meticulously prepared "Elixir of Immortality" to the court.

The Emperor waited anxiously for the petitioner to arrive, but no one came for days. On this particular day, seeing the charlatan enter the palace with the elixir, the Emperor was overjoyed. He eagerly snatched the potion offered by the trickster, preparing to drink it down in one gulp. The charlatan quickly intervened, saying, "Your Majesty, the item brought by this humble subject is the genuine Elixir of Immortality, the only vial in existence under heaven. Once consumed, its effects are irreversible, so there are some words you must hear first. Once immortal, you will watch your wives, concubines, and children wither and die before your eyes; the loyal ministers who guard your empire will also depart one by one. Since antiquity, the world has alternated between unification and division. If the dynasty changes, you will be the last emperor of this reign, and there is no guarantee you won't end up a prisoner. By then, the courtiers loyal to you today will have long since turned to dust. Life is rarely smooth sailing in one lifetime, let alone across millennia. To drink this elixir is to accept the torment of endless existence. This humble subject dares not plunge Your Majesty into the agony of perpetual half-life, but your longing for the potion is palpable. Therefore, I bring you the sole vial of eternal life in the world, hoping that for the sake of your happiness in this lifetime, you will not covet the prolonged suffering." With that, the charlatan knelt and kowtowed repeatedly.

The court officials had long been deeply concerned by the Emperor's obsession with immortality and had silently resented the alchemists who deceived him with fake potions. Seeing someone in the hall holding the world's only elixir and urging the Emperor to abandon his quest for endless life, they erupted in cheers, proclaiming "Long live His Majesty!" and vociferously supporting the charlatan’s counsel!

Persuaded by the words of the charlatan and the assembled officials, the Emperor wavered, his thoughts on eternal life becoming uncertain. The charlatan saw the hesitation in the Emperor’s eyes and knew he had to strike while the iron was hot. Seizing the moment when the Emperor and his nearby guards were momentarily stunned, he rushed forward, snatched the elixir from the Emperor’s hand, and smashed it to pieces on the floor. He then knelt at the Emperor's feet and continued, "This subject does not wish Your Majesty to fall into a sea of misery. I have just destroyed the world's only Elixir of Immortality, ensuring my King enjoys peace and bestows blessings upon the realm for all his days. From now on, no one will ever obtain the potion, thus removing my King’s lingering worries. However, this humble subject has offended Your Majesty and willingly accepts death as atonement." Following this declaration, he delivered several more resounding kowtows.

Seeing the elixir shattered, the assembled officials cried out "Long live His Majesty!" three times, collectively kneeling in the court, awaiting the Emperor's judgment. The Emperor recalled his decade-plus obsession with the elixir and considered the charlatan’s recent words, finding merit in them. Finally accepting the truth that humans are not meant to live forever, he decreed that the charlatan's promise of a First-Rank Dukedom be fulfilled, and, by exceptional grace, the destruction of the potion was not to be investigated.

This story shares a similar resonance with the Mother-in-law’s weariness of her undying form. Immortality is merely a beautiful fairy tale; in reality, if someone were truly immortal, the mere thought that everyone dear to them would eventually leave for the Yellow Springs would surely make happiness an impossibility.