The ambush by Fan Shaojing had a profound impact on the green-eyed zombie. Perhaps it had never imagined its cultivation could be so severely wounded by humans. There had been over a dozen Taoists; had the red-eyed zombie not drawn away some of their fire, the green-eyed zombie feared it would have perished within their formation.
Qiao’er did not know what was on its mind, but one day, it began dragging other zombies back from the outside. Those that drank human blood, were disobedient, or were lazy in their cultivation were all devoured. Those that were docile and worked hard at their cultivation were tossed into the deep waters of the sea.
It kept the red-eyed zombie around, however—a hopping corpse was, after all, a rare find.
By the time Qiao’er’s watermelon seedlings began to sprout vines, the deep waters near the small cabin were teeming with zombies. At night, they followed the green-eyed zombie’s example, crawling out of the water to bask in the moonlight and loiter around the cabin.
Yet, as if sensing whose territory they were in, they never entered the house, much less dared to harm Qiao’er. A few of the more intelligent ones even tried to curry favor with her; while the green-eyed zombie was away working, they would perform manual labor for her, such as fetching water or chopping wood.
They all looked more or less the same and moved with such speed that Qiao’er often couldn't tell them apart. However, they were clearly eager to make themselves known to her. If she so much as spoke a word loudly, several would immediately poke their heads out from around the cabin to see if she needed anything done.
One day, the green-eyed zombie actually carried back a female zombie dressed in red. Qiao’er was delighted, constantly wanting the female zombie to keep her company. The green-eyed zombie remained displeased by this, frequently chasing the newcomer away.
Only later did Qiao’er learn that zombies actually had no gender. The original owners of their bodies were long dead; what remained was merely another form of life inhabiting the shell, indifferent to male or female. Since they did not reproduce biologically, gender was an irrelevant concept to them.
Having been targeted by Taoists at the docks, the green-eyed zombie could no longer work there. Occasionally, it found odd jobs along the river. The pay in silver was low, but the jobs provided meals—and since the zombie was incredibly strong and didn't actually eat, the foremen were extremely fond of it.
One night, while Qiao’er was gathering duck eggs in the livestock shed, she suddenly realized someone was standing outside. She turned her head suspiciously. The man wore azure Taoist robes and carried a long sword slung across his back, its blade wrapped in yellow silk. A satchel hung diagonally from his right shoulder. He stood silently by the cabin, his long bangs veiling the left side of his forehead. He made no move, yet he exuded a gloomy, murderous aura that was completely at odds with his Taoist attire.
Qiao’er recognized the robes; they were the uniform of the Cuiwei Mountain Sect. Anxiety rose within her. The man simply followed her, silent and persistent.
Qiao’er tried her best to lead him away from the cabin, but he remained exactly five paces behind her, following at an unhurried pace.
She didn't know how long she walked. Spring nights fell early, and the twilight soon descended. She lacked the strength to go any further; the path ahead was choked with weeds, leading into the desolate wilderness.
With a strange man following her, she was naturally afraid, but she was even more worried that the green-eyed zombie would come looking for her. Unable to walk another step, she stopped and summoned her courage to face him. "Who are you? Why are you following me?"
The Taoist said nothing. In the fading light, his long hair was tied high, his bangs swept across his left brow, and a faint shadow of stubble lined his jaw. His gaze did not rest on her. When she stopped, he simply took a wine gourd from his waist and took a long pull. As the night grew thicker, he unsheathed the long sword from his back and wiped it gently with the yellow silk, acting as if she didn't exist. The mountain wind stirred his long bangs, and Qiao’er caught the scent of wine mixed with a strange fragrance.
Qiao’er thought she had traveled a great distance, but in truth, just as the last sliver of light vanished from the horizon and the hazy moon hung like a ghost in the sky, the green-eyed zombie found them.
Qiao’er nearly burst into tears when she saw its green pupils. It stopped five paces away from the azure-clad Taoist. The man continued to wipe his sword; the moonlight was weak, yet it could not hide the blade's chilling glint.
The green-eyed zombie knew something of this man. The great name of Fan Shaohuang, the second disciple of Cuiwei Mountain, had often been mentioned by the old Taoist Chongling. It was a name that struck many monsters like a bolt of thunder.
Though he ranked below Fan Shaojing in seniority, his cultivation far surpassed his senior's. Some gossiped that it was because he was the biological son of the current sect leader, Fan Fuqing, and had received private instruction. Others believed it was simply because he had trained under Fan Fuqing since childhood and possessed natural talent superior to Fan Shaojing's, making his prowess only natural.
Regardless of outside speculation, Fan Fuqing had ultimately chosen his adopted son, Fan Shaojing, as his primary successor, clearly intending for him to inherit the sect's mantle.
This was the green-eyed zombie's first time meeting Fan Shaohuang. Rumor had it that this man was ruthless; any monster that fell into his hands would have its soul scattered, never to be reborn.
It knew this man was not simple. Last time, Fan Shaojing had brought over a dozen Taoists to ambush it, yet this man had come alone. As the man and the corpse faced off, Qiao’er grew frantic. Ignoring the fact that it couldn't understand her, she shouted, "Go! I'm human, he won't do anything to me!"
The green-eyed zombie could more or less grasp her meaning, but at that time, it was still inexperienced in the ways of the world. It was young and headstrong, lacking the wisdom to adapt or the understanding that as long as the green mountains remain, one need not worry about firewood—that survival was the priority.
Fan Shaohuang clearly understood its goal. He did not pursue the zombie, but he remained five paces from Qiao’er, a distance that allowed him to completely block the zombie from approaching her.
Qiao’er forced herself up, wanting to keep running, but with a flick of his fingers, an ink-soaked thread—originally meant for binding monsters—coiled like a snake around her ankle.
The green-eyed zombie suddenly let out a long howl. The green light in its eyes flared brilliantly, its claws lengthened, and its fangs protruded an inch past its lips, its visage turning hideous and terrifying. Along with this transformation, a surge of grayish-black corpse qi, tinged with a faint briny scent, erupted toward the sky, blotting out the light.
Fan Shaohuang held his sword in his right hand while his left formed an ancient sword seal. The blue canopy of the night shifted violently as wind and clouds gathered. The crescent moon lost its luster, hanging pale and powerless in the sky.
The surrounding vegetation withered at a visible rate. Birds fell from the sky and wild beasts fled. The sword in Fan Shaohuang’s hand emitted a faint golden light, and his expression became exceptionally solemn.
With a low growl in its throat, the green-eyed zombie raised its claws, surrounded by black corpse fiend energy. The grayish-white talons clashed directly against the pale gold sword. Talismans exploded into dark golden sparks in the night, sounding like thunderclaps echoing through the mountains as a grand battle of magic unfolded.
Fan Shaohuang moved like a lithe serpent, but he never strayed from Qiao’er’s side. This forced the green-eyed zombie to strike with constant hesitation—her life was so fragile that a single wisp of corpse fiend energy could harm her.
As the corpse fiend energy swirled slightly, deathly gray corpse moss began to grow on the ground. Fan Shaohuang was waiting for exactly this moment. All techniques, whether offensive or defensive, carry a backlash once broken. Thus, unless absolutely necessary, the green-eyed zombie had used its claws as weapons to match the opponent's strength, avoiding a direct clash of magic.
The corpse moss spread like a tidal wave, obscuring the stars and moon. Fan Shaohuang showed no panic. As the moss surged toward him, he yanked the ink thread and threw Qiao’er aside. The movement was so fast that Qiao’er only had time for a single cry of alarm.
The green-eyed zombie’s reaction was naturally much faster than hers. Just as it retracted its technique, the resulting backlash caused it to falter for a mere heartbeat. In that instant, the golden light of Fan Shaohuang’s sword exploded, tearing through the night.
The green-eyed zombie let out a long wail. An arm fell onto the green grass, and thick, black blood soaked its shoulder. It had never suffered such a devastating loss; in terms of actual combat experience, the gap between them was simply too wide.
Qiao’er threw herself frantically in front of it. No panic showed in the zombie's eyes; it raised its left hand and gently brushed the back of its hand against her cheek, offering a small comfort.
Fan Shaohuang walked over slowly and actually crouched down before it. The green-eyed zombie did not intend to flee further; its vitality was severely depleted. If he wanted to kill it now, it would be as easy as turning a palm.
However, Fan Shaohuang did not strike. He began writing on the ground. Qiao’er could understand it—he wanted to refine the green-eyed zombie into his own "Corpse Fiend."
This was different from being "sponsored." A Corpse Fiend was similar to a ghost servant; the two parties would enter a contract, and from then on, the zombie would view him as its master. While the green-eyed zombie hesitated, Qiao’er had already picked up its severed arm and cradled it in her arms. She had seen the red-eyed zombie’s arm get cut off and reattached before. When she questioned Fan Shaohuang, she showed little fear: "If he becomes your Corpse Fiend, can you fix his arm?"
Only then did Fan Shaohuang truly look at Qiao’er. He hadn't expected this woman to be able to read Ghost Script. He smiled slightly; he was naturally aloof, and this smile held a hint of elegant yet sinister contempt. "Naturally. I have no use for a useless thing."
Qiao’er crouched back down in front of the green-eyed zombie. It couldn't understand the words between her and Fan Shaohuang, so she had to write in its palm, urging it to agree.
Fan Shaohuang sheathed his sword, a look of amusement entering his eyes. This flying corpse was already in his pocket; he was in no hurry.
Qiao’er continued to write in the green-eyed zombie’s palm. Though its intelligence was newly awakened, its pride was immense. Even when it was "sponsored" by the old Taoist Chongling, it had viewed the arrangement as a partnership. To now be forced into a position of servitude was something it was loath to accept.
But the situation was dire. Qiao’er coaxed it for a long time, as if soothing a child. Finally, it stood up and silently allowed Fan Shaohuang to plant a restrictive seal within its body.
This time, it learned the necessity of yielding to save its life.
***
