Fifth-second Chapter: Turbid Desires
After the green-eyed zombie lost its mind, its energy only seemed to grow more boundless. Previously, it would at least rest in its coffin during the day, but now it spent even the daylight hours in a state of constant, restless commotion. During the day, Qiao’er had to look after Fan Shaojing. Currently afflicted by zombie venom, he was no different from an ordinary mortal. Qiao’er spent her days neutralizing small portions of the toxin to keep him alive, yet she ignored his comfort, leaving him sprawled before the formation to continue threatening Fan Shaohuang.
By nightfall, she was usually exhausted and would pull the green-eyed zombie into the coffin to sleep. However, the zombie would wait until she was asleep to sneak out. It once went to the beach where the other zombies were attending their lessons and painted a pair of Western-style spectacles on every single one of them.
The ink used was of the highest quality and incredibly difficult to fade. Qiao’er had to lead Yaoguang and the others to catch the zombies one by one, spending two full days scrubbing them before they were finally clean.
The next day, it played with fire, burning down two side halls of the Guantian Court and turning itself into a charred, soot-covered mess. Its long silver hair was scorched into blackened tufts, and its clothes had been reduced to carbonized rags clinging tightly to its body.
On the third day, it decided to dig a trench to divert the seawater, thinking that if it drained the ocean, it could play on the seabed. The trench was never finished; instead, it was swept away by a massive wave. Qiao’er had to dispatch countless shrimp and crabs to search the waters, finally dragging it out from the belly of a shark. That the bloodline of the Ba, the ancient god of war, nearly met its end inside a fish became a laughingstock throughout the Divine Realm.
Qiao’er ordered the four Ba to follow it at all times, while she focused on suppressing Fan Shaojing’s zombie venom. After two consecutive days of this, the green-eyed zombie grew jealous. It decided that Fan Shaojing was a nuisance and that if it killed him, it would be the sole "national treasure" left.
Thus, under the cover of a dark and windy night, it hoisted Fan Shaojing from the front of the formation, intending to discard him. Fan Shaohuang, knowing the zombie was currently senseless, was struck with terror. He hurriedly used a thousand-mile soul-transmission to alert Qiao’er, narrowly saving Priest Fan Shaojing from a disastrous end.
After several days of this, Qiao’er was frazzled, and Fan Shaohuang’s life was equally difficult. Every day, he could only watch his senior brother lie unconscious outside the formation. He could not reach Fan Shaojing and had no idea how much longer he could hold on. While his soul-consciousness was being worn away, the zombie venom was only seeping deeper. If his soul ever gave way and the venom took hold, then even if he were "saved," the thing that woke up would be nothing more than a zombie—it would no longer be Fan Shaojing.
One day, Qiao’er startled awake from a dream. Beside her, the green-eyed zombie was tossing and turning, seemingly unable to sleep. Qiao’er had always been alert to its movements, so she reached out to take its arm. "Are you not sleeping?"
The green-eyed zombie flinched, avoiding her touch in a panic. "Stay away from me." Its voice was a low pant, as if it were desperately suppressing something. When Qiao’er reached out again, she found its body was terrifyingly hot. Sweat had already soaked its long silver hair.
"What’s wrong?" Qiao’er sat up and pushed open the coffin lid. As a faint light filtered in, she saw its face was deathly pale, and the fangs at the corners of its mouth had grown two inches long. Its thin black garment was drenched in sweat, clinging to its frame.
Having stayed with it for so long, Qiao’er understood much about the habits of zombies, but she had never encountered a situation like this. When she questioned it, it merely gritted its teeth and refused to speak, pointing instead at the coffin lid, signaling for her to close it. It seemed extremely averse to the light.
Qiao’er slid the lid back into place, her heart pounding with alarm. The green-eyed zombie refused to let her near, forcefully pushing her against the wall of the coffin. In the dark, cramped space, she could hear nothing but its heavy, ragged breathing.
Qiao’er had experienced enough to regain her composure quickly. The green-eyed zombie was baring its fangs yet refusing to let her close; she silently bit her own wrist, letting the faint scent of blood spread through the narrow darkness. The green-eyed zombie swallowed hard, its throat bobbing, and immediately tried to shove her out of the coffin in a frenzy.
Qiao’er turned back and hugged it, pressing her wrist to its lips. It struck her hand away violently, its voice trembling when it finally spoke: "Go."
Qiao’er sucked some blood from her own wrist and, catching it off guard, suddenly lunged at its chest, looking up to seal its lips with a kiss. It resisted at first, but eventually, it could no longer withstand the temptation of the fresh blood and embraced her in a deep, desperate kiss.
It still possessed a shred of reason, taking great care not to hurt her. After Qiao’er fed it several mouthfuls of blood, the burning heat in its body gradually subsided. After lying there for a long while, it finally reached out to wrap its arms around her, burying its head to inspect the wound on her wrist. Qiao’er’s heart was still racing with lingering fear. "Are you better?"
It took a long time before the green-eyed zombie responded, "I’m fine now."
Neither the human nor the zombie spoke again. Both knew the truth—the turbid breath within the zombie blood had begun to affect it. The Ba had fought against this for tens of thousands of years, eventually risking everything and choosing to abandon her divine body just to escape the turbid desires within this blood.
And the green-eyed zombie, whose cultivation and willpower were far inferior to hers—how long could it hold out?
Embraced within the coffin, Qiao’er could feel its heartbeat. She forced her voice to sound light. "After Nüba was tainted by the turbid breath, she fell in love with the ancient god Yinglong, a love that lasted tens of thousands of years. Now that you are also tainted, have you fallen in love with anyone?"
The green-eyed zombie no longer seemed mad. Hearing this, it only gave a low chuckle. "Does your hand still hurt?"
Qiao’er ignored its attempt to change the subject. "Why are you fighting this turbid desire? What does it want you to do?"
The green-eyed zombie buried its head in the crook of her neck and began to feign sleep, refusing to speak no matter how much she pressed.
This happened three more times, each instance more severe than the last. During the final episode, the green-eyed zombie’s limbs turned ice-cold, and it lay motionless in the coffin for an hour. Qiao’er fed it a great deal of blood until her entire wrist was a mangled mess of flesh and gore. She had even begun to fear it had died before it finally drew a breath of relief.
Sometimes, when the episodes occurred while Qiao’er was sound asleep, it would grit its teeth and remain silent. Every time, she would find fresh claw marks on the inside of the coffin. Qiao’er’s heart ached for it, yet she was utterly powerless.
The first desire Nüba felt after being tainted by the turbid breath was not for Yinglong, but for blood. The craving for fresh life caused her to lose her divine mind, leaving behind the zombie race—a species forsaken by the gods and rejected by all living things. The green-eyed zombie was doing its utmost to suppress it, but it knew that one day, it would lose control.
Though Yinglong was detestable, there was one thing he hadn't lied about—if this turbid breath could be cleansed, why would the ancient war goddess Nüba, a celestial maiden of such high standing, have met such a miserable end?
It no longer had any reason to stay at Guantian Court. Even when sleeping in the same coffin as Qiao’er, it didn't dare close its eyes, fearing that a single moment of carelessness would lead it to drain her dry.
Qiao’er acted no differently than before, still making various dishes for it and looking after Fan Shaojing. However, the shrimp and crabs of Guantian Court began following the orders of Perfected Man Gongxi, scouring the land to collect human blood.
The purchase price for this blood was exceptionally high. For families who sold their blood, Guantian Court would provide numerous nutritional supplements as compensation. The common people did not know the purpose behind the collection; Qiao’er simply claimed she was refining pills to strengthen the body. Some believed her, others did not. But regardless of belief, there was no shortage of people willing to sell.
Guantian Court paid well, and losing a small amount of blood had no great impact on the body. Those who came to sell blood included the impoverished who needed money to survive, those who had met with sudden emergencies, and those who were simply lazy and sought easy coin.
Every day, Guantian Court collected vast quantities of blood, more than enough to satisfy the green-eyed zombie.
Only Fan Shaohuang sighed softly. "Why go to such lengths? Today it receives human blood; tomorrow it will surely develop other desires. When the day comes that you can no longer satisfy them, what will you do then?"
Qiao’er continued to feed Fan Shaojing his medicine—a soup made from lotus seeds with the hearts removed, which could suppress the zombie venom for a time. "There is no other way, Priest Fan Shaohuang. In truth, I am very greedy—even greedier than he is under the influence of the turbid breath." She wiped the corners of Fan Shaojing’s mouth with a silk handkerchief and placed him back before the formation, her smile as gentle as water. "Every moment I spend with him is precious. I am greedy enough to want to extend these days a little longer, and then a little longer still. But I am incompetent and can think of no better way, so I can only treat the symptoms rather than the cure."
It was early summer then. Small blades of grass squeezed out from between the sand and stones, a lush and vibrant green. The setting sun cast a brilliant, dazzling golden light across the beach. The emerald sea was vast and boundless, with occasional sea birds circling low, leaving behind rows of crisp, clear cries. Qiao’er set Fan Shaojing back on the ground, her expression lonely.
The look Fan Shaohuang gave her held a hint of pity. The ancient war god Yinglong was truly not a deity who easily felt pity for anyone. "Gongxi, most of the time we say that man can conquer heaven. Perhaps sometimes man truly can, but more often than not, man can only submit to fate."
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