The Hao family’s hostility toward Guantian Temple began right then and there. They were convinced that the people of the temple had abducted their ancestor and lured him to this place. Qiao’er disagreed—it was clearly their ancestor who was stubbornly refusing to leave.
At first, only the clan elders came forward to argue, but they were the ones who suffered for it. Guantian Temple sent Guiche out to "reason" with them. Was that creature even capable of reasoning? Its nine heads chattered all at once, their overlapping voices driving the Hao elders to a flush of indignant rage.
The Hao family members weren't exactly refined scholars themselves, but the moment an elder let slip a single curse word, Guiche had already offered its regards to nine generations of his ancestors—one head for each generation, a perfect match.
When words failed, there was only fighting. However, Fan Shaohuang was never one to fear a brawl. The prayer mat beneath the ancestral tablets at Cuiwei Mountain could testify to that; he was a born troublemaker who hadn't given his old man a single day of peace since childhood. It was rare enough for him not to seek out others' misfortune; he certainly wouldn't allow anyone to run wild on his own turf. The two sides were immediately at each other's throats.
In the end, it was the Hao clan leader, Hao Ren, who showed some discernment. Realizing they likely wouldn't gain the upper hand against Fan Shaohuang—and knowing better than to pluck the whiskers of the Cuiwei Mountain tigers—he led his people away with a cold snort.
To their surprise, a few days later, the Eldest Disciple Fan Shaojing arrived at Guantian Temple bearing the Sect Leader’s decree: Fan Shaohuang was to be brought back to Cuiwei Mountain. It turned out that while Hao Ren seemed to back down on the surface, he had gone to Cuiwei Mountain to tattle.
Fan Shaohuang’s face turned ashen with rage, but he didn't dare defy the old man’s orders. He packed his things and returned to Cuiwei Mountain to kneel before the ancestral tablets.
In the Daoist world of that era, raising zombies was a major taboo, something even most practitioners of the dark arts rarely attempted. As soon as Fan Shaojing led Fan Shaohuang away, the Sect Leader of Cuiwei Mountain, Fan Fuqing, quietly slipped into Guantian Temple disguised as a common pilgrim coming to offer incense.
He was dressed in foreign attire with half his face covered. Qiao’er didn't recognize him, and the young Daoists Fan Shaohuang had left behind failed to recognize their own Sect Leader. Fan Fuqing himself breathed a sigh of relief. Although many zombies were kept here, the vast majority subsisted on spiritual energy. The two or three that did consume blood bore little resentment, suggesting they were fed on the blood of livestock.
While Gong Xi, the nominal head of Guantian Temple, could control the horde, one look at her revealed a simple mind; Fan Shaohuang was clearly the one calling the shots from the shadows. Fan Fuqing’s heart had been in his throat all the way there, fearing his rebellious son had truly committed some heinous atrocity. Though the boy hadn't known a moment of peace since he was small, he was Fan Fuqing’s only flesh and blood. The bond of kinship is something difficult for outsiders to truly understand.
A man of Fan Fuqing’s stature quickly devised a solution: he would hand over the heavy responsibility of assisting Guantian Temple and "civilizing" the zombies to the Hao family. Firstly, the Hao family was famous in the Daoist world for their expertise in capturing zombies, so the horde would not become a menace to society under their watch. Secondly, Fan Shaohuang could completely wash his hands of the matter. From then on, whether it was Guantian Temple, Cuiwei Mountain, or Fan Shaohuang himself, none would be held accountable.
Fan Fuqing was deeply troubled while negotiating this with Hao Ren. He knew Fan Shaohuang’s temperament all too well—arrogant and prone to violence, relying on his own talent. The old Sect Leader understood the principle that "the hardest steel is the easiest to snap." With such a personality, his son made countless enemies and associated only with fair-weather friends. Currently, people refrained from challenging him out of respect for Cuiwei Mountain’s power, but once Fan Fuqing passed away, who would be left to protect him?
Of course, Fan Fuqing was cunning, but the Hao family wasn't foolish either; they were determined not to take over Guantian Temple. With such a vast number of zombies, Gong Xi might be able to control them now, but who knew what the future held? "Civilizing zombies" sounded noble, but those in the know might call them high-minded protectors, while those who didn't would surely call them a bunch of bastards raising zombies to cause chaos. By shifting the focus to the zombies, no one would look too closely at Fan Shaohuang’s true purpose for building the temple. Both sides viewed it as a thankless task that was best avoided.
The Hao family’s goal was actually quite simple: they just wanted their ancestor back so they could go home and continue researching a way to stop zombies from drinking blood, allowing them to cultivate properly on spiritual energy alone.
Later, after Fan Fuqing finally made some concessions, an even more absurd situation arose—their ancestor refused to go. The moment he saw them, he would dive headfirst into the sea and refuse to come out.
Qiao’er finally managed to coax him out once. He didn't dare cling to Qiao’er, so he latched onto the Green-Eyed Zombie instead. No matter how much they pleaded or cajoled, he wouldn't let go.
The Green-Eyed Zombie didn't drive him away because Qiao’er couldn't bear to see him go; she was attached to every single one of them. Thus, the Green-Eyed Zombie’s stance was simple: if Qiao’er didn't want them taken away, no one was allowed to take them!
Left with no choice, the Hao family had to let their ancestor stay at Guantian Temple. But they couldn't just leave him in the sea and forget about him. Consequently, they dispatched clan members to stay at the temple in shifts. Every night, they gathered all the zombies for lessons, teaching them about human history, civilization, and how to cultivate "scientifically."
Even the Hao family didn't know much of the Ghost Script. They could manage daily communication, but for teaching, they had to rely on Qiao’er. Thus, Qiao’er acted as a translator, rendering the Hao family’s materials into the Script for the Dead. Qiao’er had started learning to write late, but thanks to her greatly improved memory and her diligent efforts, she had mastered a significant number of characters.
She found the materials quite interesting. While translating, she would often ponder the meanings, finding joy in the process as it helped her further her literacy.
For the first lesson, all one hundred and two zombies of Guantian Temple were present without exception. Everyone seemed happy at first, but that quickly changed—the Hao family had only prepared a desk and chair for the Red-Eyed Zombie!
Their way of expressing dissatisfaction was direct: they snatched the furniture for themselves. The Hao family naturally sided with their ancestor, and the classroom descended into chaos. One hundred and one zombies ganged up on the Red-Eyed Zombie and the three Hao Daoists...
It only stopped when Qiao’er shouted at them, leaving every zombie looking dejected and scolded. From that day on, they learned something new: don't fight in front of Qiao’er, or you'll get a lecture. If she told the Green-Eyed Zombie, they’d be in even worse trouble. If they wanted to fight, they had to wait until class was over and Qiao’er had left...
That evening, Qiao’er told the Green-Eyed Zombie about the incident, worrying about where she could buy so many desks on short notice. The Green-Eyed Zombie gathered all the zombies and ordered each of them to go pull up a tree; he would teach them how to make their own sets of tables and stools...
Qiao’er had almost forgotten until he started working—his carpentry skills were actually quite excellent...
The Hao family’s lessons did eventually show some results. Every night, over a hundred zombies would roll around Qiao’er’s feet, shamelessly begging for clothes—they had learned the saying, "Buddha needs gold plating, and people need fine clothing."
A few days later, after Fan Shaohuang finished his penance before the ancestral tablets, Fan Fuqing, the Sect Leader of Cuiwei Mountain, officially appointed his eldest disciple, Fan Shaojing, as the Master of the Sword—essentially naming him the heir.
Fan Shaohuang left in a fit of resentment, naturally heading straight for Guantian Temple. He arrived just as Hao Ren, the Hao clan leader, was visiting his ancestor. Hao Ren had brought many changes of clothes for the Red-Eyed Zombie, but after hearing about the previous brawl, he didn't dare give them out.
The Hao family was an established clan with considerable wealth. Fearing the other zombies would gang up on his ancestor again, Hao Ren asked Qiao’er to measure everyone’s height so he could have custom clothes made for the entire group.
Before leaving, he spoke with the Red-Eyed Zombie for a while. Seeing the creature’s carefree and happy expression, he didn't know whether to be glad or sad. By the end of the conversation, he was utterly dejected. Seven generations of the Hao family’s efforts—over six hundred years—and they still hadn't found a way to make zombies stop drinking blood and live solely on spiritual energy.
He still remembered his father clutching his hand on his deathbed, giving endless instructions, unable to rest in peace.
In his dozen years as clan leader, Hao Ren had tried countless methods, but this was an instinct, like a sheep eating grass or a tiger eating meat. How could it be eliminated?
He knelt before the Red-Eyed Zombie, thinking of how many "righteous" cultivators must have hunted and chased him. Grief filled his heart, and he nearly burst into tears.
Just then, Fan Shaohuang walked in from the outer hall. It was unclear how long he had been listening, but he let out a cold sneer. Hao Ren, who already disliked him, glared back in anger.
Fan Shaohuang ignored the look and walked over to stand before the man and the zombie. "You’ve been researching this for six hundred years?"
Hao Ren’s face turned red with fury. A family history of blood and tears, a story of moving devotion, was being spoken of with such contempt. He stared deathly at Fan Shaohuang, whose expression of disdain didn't change in the slightest. Fan Shaohuang dropped a single sentence before turning to leave:
"Just pull out its fangs, you idiots."
Hao Ren stood frozen on the spot. *Motherfucker!!* Six hundred years, seven generations of lifelong, unyielding persistence... and they had never thought to just pull out the drinking straws! When the answer finally appeared, making seven generations of ancestors look like seven generations of complete morons, Hao Ren thought of his father’s dying words. He collapsed, hugging his ancestor, and wailed in absolute, heartbroken despair...
***
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
樊复清 | Fan Fuqing | Sect Leader of Cuiwei Mountain and Fan Shaohuang's father.
掌剑真人 | Master of the Sword | A high-ranking title/position in the Cuiwei Mountain sect, equivalent to an heir.
殄文 | Ghost Script / Script for the Dead | A specialized script used for communicating with or for the deceased/spirits.
郝仁 | Hao Ren | The Clan Leader of the Hao family; his name is a homophone for "Good Person."
吸管 | Straws | Used metaphorically by Fan Shaohuang to refer to zombie fangs.
