The practice of keeping a Corpse Fiend was, to put it simply, the art of raising the dead. It wasn't just sorcerers who did this; even many physicians, merchants, and gambling den owners kept "little ghosts" or spirit-corpses. When business was slow, they would release these spirits to cause accidents and stir up trouble.
However, refining a Corpse Fiend required significantly more technical skill than raising ordinary spirits. A sorcerer with insufficient cultivation could never hope to control one. As for refining a "Flying Corpse"—a creature that had already attained a high level of power—most ordinary sorcerers wouldn't even dare to dream of it.
Fan Shaohuang was no ordinary man. His ambitions always reached for the heavens. Refining a top-tier Corpse Fiend that could travel freely between the realms of the living and the dead would be an immense boon to any sorcerer. Among their kind, a Corpse Fiend was not just an assistant; it was a status symbol. Any sorcerer worth their salt only had to look at a person’s Corpse Fiend to know whether that person was someone to provoke or someone to avoid.
Furthermore, there were many things practitioners of the Dao found inconvenient to do themselves, yet inappropriate to delegate to others. For instance, if some low-life were to insult Fan Fuqing of Cuiwei Mountain, he was the Sect Leader; he couldn't exactly jump up and start a shouting match, could he?
If he were to turn to the disciple behind him and bark, "Go punch him!" that would also be quite beneath his dignity.
But having a Corpse Fiend changed everything. A Corpse Fiend was mentally linked to its master. He could secretly command it to go over and deliver a few sharp slaps to the offender's face without saying a word.
Once the restriction was planted within the green-eyed zombie, its life was bound to his. If the Corpse Fiend were killed during this time, the magical backlash would surely leave him severely wounded. Conversely, if he were to die, his Corpse Fiend would lose its spiritual guidance and inevitably perish.
Because of this, Corpse Fiends had historically been fiercely loyal to their masters, never knowing betrayal.
Fan Shaohuang had put a great deal of thought into refining this particular fiend. A zombie that had developed intelligence was extremely rare, and he was unwilling to wipe that sentience away. After all, no matter how fierce a wild beast was, it could never achieve true greatness. You might see a man wearing tiger-skin gloves, but have you ever seen a tiger wearing human-skin gloves?
Fan Shaohuang had always been confident in himself. Combined with the raw power of this green-eyed zombie, an unprecedented, top-tier Corpse Fiend was about to be born.
There was only one thing that frustrated him—this Corpse Fiend seemed a bit... distracted.
As his Corpse Fiend, it was naturally expected to stay by his side. To foster the rapport between master and servant, a sorcerer and his Corpse Fiend were usually inseparable. Without a master's command, a Corpse Fiend would typically follow its master everywhere, never daring to leave.
But his was different. Every day at dusk, this Corpse Fiend would sneak away. Fan Shaohuang had tracked its scent twice. Every night, it returned punctually to the small wooden hut by the sea to fetch water, chop wood, and catch fish and shrimp.
Every profound magical art in the world has its own unique specialty. Fan Shaohuang had studied this Corpse Fiend for a long time, trying to figure out what its specialty was. Here, he finally discovered it—his top-tier Corpse Fiend... was an expert at chopping wood.
Using its hand as a blade, it split logs as thick as bowls with a single strike. The cuts were neat and smooth, and the length and thickness of the firewood were incredibly uniform.
Looking at that pile of identical firewood, Fan Shaohuang was frustrated, but he didn't stop it. Killing Qiao'er brought him no benefit; keeping her was actually useful. If his Corpse Fiend ever ran away, he would at least know where to go to catch it.
From then on, the green-eyed zombie transformed from a wandering wild zombie into a domesticated one. Qiao'er could only see it once a day. Upon its return, it would busily work around the house. The only time the two spent together was before she slept; it would lie in the coffin to accompany her, quietly leaving once she was fast asleep.
When it had no duties, the green-eyed zombie lived at Cuiwei Mountain. Cuiwei Mountain was famous throughout the world, and its spiritual energy was naturally abundant. There was only one thing that bothered the zombie—it was called a "mountain," but in reality, it was just a massive canyon.
In the valley lay a lake with pale blue water. It remained still as a mirror year-round, with only occasional gentle ripples and no large waves.
Most disciples of Cuiwei Mountain kept Corpse Fiends. On its first night there, suffering from a bit of homesickness and missing its usual coffin, the green-eyed zombie absorbed some moonlight and let out a long, piercing howl toward the moon. After the howl, every other Corpse Fiend on Cuiwei Mountain fled in terror. It felt quite good about itself. However, the next morning, most of the Cuiwei Mountain disciples had dark circles under their eyes like pandas—they had spent the entire night searching for their lost fiends.
To the green-eyed zombie, Cuiwei Mountain was a brand-new world. Previously, it had absorbed spiritual energy out of pure instinct. It didn't understand why it cultivated, how it should cultivate, or what the end goal was.
Fan Shaohuang was clearly an expert in this field. Once the refinement was successful, he and the zombie shared a mental connection. He would teach it secret cultivation methods. However, Fan Shaohuang was a man who sought quick results. As the saying goes, "like master, like servant," so the heart-mantras he passed to the green-eyed zombie were also methods for rapid advancement.
This led to an interesting phenomenon: in all of Cuiwei Mountain, the Corpse Fiends spent the most time with their masters, and thus, they were somewhat influenced by their masters' personalities. For example, Sect Leader Fan Fuqing's Corpse Fiend was always acting like a cynical old man, looking down its nose at other fiends with an air of superiority.
The Eldest Senior Brother Fan Shaojing's Corpse Fiend was honest and simple; if they went out together, it was always the one carrying the luggage. The Third Junior Brother Fan Zijun's Corpse Fiend was a lazy trickster; it would lie down if it could, and sit if it couldn't lie down. To put it bluntly, if you hung a pancake around its neck, it would be too lazy to turn its head to eat it.
As for the Second Senior Brother Fan Shaohuang, his fiend was the strongest, just like him. As for other personality traits, they hadn't spent enough time together for it to learn them yet.
Since it had become his Corpse Fiend, it needed a name. Naming was a delicate matter. Although a name is just a label, it is usually the first impression given to others. For instance, if the legendary Xiezhi or Bixi were renamed "Water Buffalo," would anyone still think they were divine beasts?
Fan Shaohuang naturally understood this. After thinking for a long time, he finally gave his Corpse Fiend a name: "From now on, you shall be called Hou."
Thus, the green-eyed zombie had a name of its own.
A sorcerer's power generally came from three sources. The first was the Founding Ancestors. Although these ancestors had passed away, their divine powers did not vanish; instead, they grew stronger through the devout offerings of later generations, acting like a treasury waiting for disciples to borrow from.
The second was the Master. A disciple could borrow power from their master, but if the master was alive, they would sense it immediately whenever the power was invoked.
The third was one's own cultivation, which was the most difficult path of all.
A Corpse Fiend could also borrow power from its master. Every time it borrowed power, was injured, or died, the master would feel it.
The green-eyed zombie—now known as Hou—was a complete novice regarding these Daoist matters. Fan Shaohuang had to explain everything from scratch. Actually, he didn't need to work so hard; this basic introductory knowledge had long been recorded in texts by the sages of Cuiwei Mountain.
Unfortunately, his Corpse Fiend didn't just lack knowledge—it was illiterate!
Fortunately, he could communicate with it through his mind. Otherwise, if he had to translate everything into the Script of the Dead, he would have died of sheer frustration.
Qiao'er stayed alone in the small wooden hut by the sea. The green-eyed zombie returned once every night at a fixed time. Fortunately, the little zombies it had previously tossed into the sea often came out to wander around. They still poked their heads about in front of the hut, helping her with chores and serving as security.
Hou was very busy whenever it returned. First, it would eat the disobedient or lazy little zombies in the sea, then catch one or two fresh ones to replace them.
Fan Shaohuang did not stop it. Zombies also needed a social circle to hear gossip; it made gathering various types of information much easier. Moreover, if these zombies could be used by Hou, it would be like adding wings to a tiger for Fan Shaohuang himself.
Without a point of comparison, Fan Shaohuang didn't know exactly how powerful his Corpse Fiend was. Finally, one day, he found an opportunity to test it—his father, the Sect Leader, had left his own Corpse Fiend to guard the door while he was in secluded meditation.
As dusk fell, he brought Hou to the back hall and signaled—Attack!
Hou leaped forward. The Corpse Fiend that had been dozing at the cave entrance suddenly snapped its eyes open, a brilliant light bursting from its pupils. Only then did the green-eyed zombie get a clear look at its opponent's face. Good heavens! Looking at it, Hou felt a sincere surge of pride—the other fiend's eyes were a dull grayish-white, and because its blood had been drained, its eye sockets and lips were a purplish-black, while its skin was unnaturally white. Its entire appearance was so hideous that even a Shura or a Yaksha would have felt ashamed.
Fan Fuqing's Corpse Fiend was naturally highly cultivated. It didn't wait for Hou to land before lunging back like an eagle. Just as it looked like the two fiends were about to collide in a full embrace, Hou let out a yelp, his figure blurred, and he vanished.
Fan Shaohuang remained where he was. He had confidence in Hou; with its speed, dealing with the old man's fiend shouldn't be a problem.
He stood at the door, staring blankly at the old man's fiend for a long time before finally confirming one thing—damn it, his Corpse Fiend had run away!
So, having a Corpse Fiend with intelligence had its downsides. With sentience came likes, dislikes, joys, and sorrows. An unintelligent Corpse Fiend might be stupid, but it was reliable because it didn't know fear; you just had to command it to charge. But an intelligent Corpse Fiend... it wasn't honorable. One day, when you encountered danger and before you could even give the command, you'd turn around and see—damn, it's already gone, and it's faster than you.
Although Fan Fuqing was in seclusion, he could sense the sudden killing intent from his Corpse Fiend. Very few people on Cuiwei Mountain were bold enough to challenge the Sect Leader's authority—after all, you have to look at the master before you beat the dog. Consequently, after he emerged from seclusion, he didn't give his son any face. He pulled a long face and gave Fan Shaohuang a harsh scolding. Fan Shaohuang let it go in one ear and out the other, picking his ear and flicking the lecture away as if it were earwax.
The old man was furious and punished him by making him kneel before the ancestral tablets. Fan Shaohuang had provoked his father's fiend, gotten a head full of scolding, gained nothing, and now had to kneel. He was even more frustrated than the old man.
After that, the green-eyed zombie felt a great sense of superiority at Cuiwei Mountain—it believed it was the most handsome of all the Corpse Fiends. Meanwhile, the old man's fiend had discovered a way to deal with it: every time they clashed, it would try to hug Hou.
Eventually, as soon as the green-eyed zombie saw the other fiend open its arms, it would let out a yelp and turn tail to run.
