Chapter 19: Half-Human, Half-Corpse

The owner of the grave was Zhang Ruoyue, who had died twelve years ago at the age of twenty. The headstone was inscribed with a long list of Zhang family direct descendants, with the name Zhang Guang at the top—her father—meaning Zhang Ruoyue was the younger sister of Zhang Huixiang.

But how could a legitimate daughter of the Zhang family be buried here? The Zhangs were said to be extremely traditional, insisting on returning to their ancestral roots, and their family tombs were in Wushan.

I glanced at the compass; its needle pointed directly at Zhang Ruoyue's grave.

Could Zhang Ruoyue not be dead? Was her death just a ruse? A flood of questions surged in my mind.

The compass, with its drop of blood from my brow, could only sense living blood relatives within a certain range—it was impossible for it to react to the dead.

I stepped back several paces, carefully surveying the cluster of graves around me.

“This is a place where yin energy gathers. Graves encircle the site, willow trees lock in the gloom—this is clearly the center of yin energy. Yes, it’s a place designed to nurture ghosts.”

Willow trees prevent yin energy from dispersing, causing it to accumulate here—this was unmistakably a feng shui formation for raising ghosts.

I put away the compass, clutched the spirit-extinguishing needle in my left hand, and the peachwood talisman in my right, slowly approaching Zhang Ruoyue's grave.

I circled the grave twice, came to the tombstone, crouched, and tapped lightly on the bluestone slab beneath it—it was hollow!

Soon, I found a protrusion on the tombstone. Pressing it firmly, the bluestone slab below shifted, revealing a passage leading underground.

Gritting my teeth, I looked around, grabbed an oblong stone from nearby, and wedged it in the entrance as I descended.

I hadn’t gone far before the entrance tried to close by itself, but the stone I’d placed held it open.

A hundred steps or more led down; halfway, I kicked something, making a noise, and lights flickered on along the walls.

Only then did I realize there were voice-activated sensor lights set into the stone walls on both sides.

“Damn, they even wired this place for electricity,” I thought, but the fear of the unknown eased a little.

Soon I reached the bottom, pushed open a stone door, and the lights in the stone chamber turned on automatically.

The sight inside left me stunned for a long moment.

There was a television, a sofa, a coffee table, a refrigerator—everything one could need. The floor was covered with a thick, luxurious carpet.

Another chamber had been converted into a bathroom, complete with an enormous massage tub.

“Could Zhang Ruoyue really be alive?” I wondered.

On the coffee table were several opened packets of snacks, one of which — a bag of chips — was still crisp, proof it had been opened not long ago.

At that moment, a chill ran down my spine. No one was here, but whoever lived here might return at any time. I had wedged the entrance open—wasn’t that a clear sign someone had broken in?

I rushed to leave, but suddenly, the stone door at the entrance closed on its own.

I shoved at it with all my strength, but it didn’t budge.

“Damn it, how careless,” I cursed, forcing myself to calm down, eyes quickly scanning the room.

Suddenly, my gaze fixed on a corner near the ceiling—a red-lit infrared surveillance camera.

I flipped the camera off, grabbed a decorative object from the coffee table, and hurled it at the lens.

Clang!

The camera shattered; the infrared light vanished.

Instantly, the chamber’s lights went out, plunging me into pitch darkness.

It was so quiet I could hear my own breathing, loud and harsh. The Eye of the Underworld Dragon at my heart felt faintly hot, as if sounding an alarm.

I sensed a cold draft brushing past from behind, making my scalp prickle.

Creak, creak—

I heard the sound of the rear wall shifting. I turned to see the wall sliding open from the center.

Inside was another secret room, faint runes of phosphorescent light flickering on its walls.

In the center stood a crystal coffin.

My pupils contracted; my throat went dry and tight, adrenaline surging, nerves stretched to the limit.

Bang!

The coffin suddenly shook. My heart felt as if struck by a hammer, unease flooding in, sweat slicking the hand gripping my peachwood talisman.

Suddenly, a hand rose from within the coffin, pressing against the lid.

The hand was pale and slender, nails black and curved like claws—utterly lifeless.

A zombie? This was not a ghost-nurturing ground, but one for raising corpses.

I had some experience dealing with ghosts, but as for zombies—this was my first encounter.

Click, click, click… The coffin lid was shifting to the side.

With nowhere to run, I gritted my teeth and went on the offensive.

I charged at the coffin, shoved the half-shifted lid closed, and threw my weight atop it.

In that instant, I got a clear look at the zombie within.

It was Zhang Ruoyue. Twelve years dead, yet her appearance had not changed—her face was pale as paper, her eyes cold and evil, with countless sinister blue threads writhing within her pupils.

We locked eyes; my heart trembled. I slapped the peachwood talisman onto the coffin lid.

This talisman was for warding off evil. The moment it touched the lid, Zhang Ruoyue's hand dropped limply.

It worked! I breathed a sigh of relief.

But just as I exhaled, a blue light flared in Zhang Ruoyue’s eyes. She braced hands and feet against the lid, sending both the peachwood talisman and me flying across the room like a cannonball.

I struck the ceiling, then crashed heavily to the ground, blood welling in my throat and spilling from my mouth.

Zhang Ruoyue rose from the coffin, dressed in silk, deathly aura swirling thickly around her.

I struggled to my feet, cursing inwardly. What level of zombie was this? The talisman barely worked!

The Great Netherworld Yin-Yang Technique mentioned zombies, but I’d never bothered to study it—I’d thought zombies too remote to worry about, and the manual was vast as an ocean.

Just then, Zhang Ruoyue sprang toward me, faster than I could react.

I barely dodged her clawed hand reaching for my throat, fused my ten blazing yang needles into one, and stabbed it into her waist.

Her deathly aura quivered violently; she hissed hoarsely and kicked me hard in the gut.

Doubling over, I was sent flying, my insides twisting with pain and cold sweat breaking out all over.

Something was wrong.

The yang needle should dispel evil energy, but it barely seemed effective. And she could kick? Zombies didn’t do that.

Thoughts flashed through my mind like lightning as Zhang Ruoyue lunged again.

I had no time for dignity—rolling clumsily out of the way, I scrambled to my feet and ran.

We circled the crystal coffin, playing a deadly game of cat and mouse.

After a dozen laps, Zhang Ruoyue suddenly stopped, gave a ferocious roar, and lifted the entire coffin overhead.

My soul nearly fled my body—this coffin must weigh a ton. Whether she was a zombie or not, she was no ordinary human.

Desperate, I charged straight at her, colliding headlong with her body.

At the same time, I stabbed her with five different sets of needles—Soul-Guiding, Soul-Fixing, Sun-Piercing, Spirit-Extinguishing, and Yin-Bane—whatever I had. This was do or die.

Each needle struck home, sending sizzling blue smoke from her body.

She screamed, then suddenly seized my shoulders in a death grip.

Remember, her hands had been holding up the coffin; now released, the heavy lid crashed down.

Boom!

My heart skipped a beat. This would be the end.

I felt myself slammed to the floor, an icy yet strangely soft body pressing on top of me.

The crystal coffin had landed upside down, trapping both me and Zhang Ruoyue inside.

It took me a moment to realize I wasn’t dead, but I was a lamb in a tiger’s den.

Suddenly, pain tore through my shoulders as Zhang Ruoyue’s claws dug deep.

I rammed my head into her chest, yanked out one of the needles, and stabbed it at her forehead.

She pinned my hand with one claw, while the other shot toward my heart, aiming to rip it out.

I gasped as her claw pierced half an inch into my chest.

But at that moment, the Eye of the Underworld Dragon at my heart burned white-hot; a black beam shot forth, striking Zhang Ruoyue’s brow.

A crack split her forehead; blue blood seeped out, dripped onto my face, and instantly solidified into a bead, stinging sharply.

Then, the blue threads in her eyes retreated with blinding speed. She collapsed, our faces pressing together, her lips touching mine.

In that instant, I realized her body was cold, but not lifeless—her heart beat, though very slowly.

She was alive!

As this thought flickered through my mind, Zhang Ruoyue’s eyes suddenly opened, and we stared at each other in shock.

“Ah!” she gasped, lifting her head. Our lips parted, and to my astonishment, a faint blush colored her pale cheeks.

She could blush!

“You’re not dead?” I asked quietly.

Zhang Ruoyue stared at me, dazed, as if unsure whether she was alive or dead. What had happened?

Just then, memory came flooding back—the blue light returned to her eyes, swirling with sorrow, hatred, and…fear.

Her aura flared, and I jumped in fright. If that blue bead had caused her zombification, why did her mind clear when it fell, yet her corpse aura remained so intense?

“Can we get out of here first?” I pleaded.

Zhang Ruoyue glared. “Did you just call me ‘big sister’? Do I look that old?”

Uh…

You’re thirty-two now, aren’t you?

I thought it, but dared not say it. Embarrassed, I said, “My mistake, I should call you little sister then.”

“Who’s your little sister, shameless!” Zhang Ruoyue snapped.

I wisely shut my mouth. She slumped atop me, her gaze clearing, emotions settling into a cold indifference.