The moonlight spilled down, as if frost coated the ground, utterly clear in the surroundings. Patrolling Partridge and the others saw it all clearly and exclaimed, "What sorcery is this? Why is the Yuan Dynasty zombie sitting up on its own in the coffin? I fear the zombie is about to become a walking corpse!"

Patrolling Partridge knew well that the Yuan Dynasty Corpse King was tall, unlike ordinary men, and must have been a phenomenal figure who cultivated both internally and externally during life, meaning its transformation into a fierce corpse would not be trivial. At that moment, he couldn't spare attention for the fierce battle between the Rage of Dawn Chicken and the Black Bi-Pipa Demon. Seeing the sudden turn of events, he had no choice but to strike first. With a swift turn, he prepared to leap into the coffin and remove the zombie's Dazhui point.

But before he could get close, a furry face appeared behind the ancient corpse that had sat up in the coffin—it was a monkey, grimacing and winking. It turned out this monkey, seeing the venomous scorpion in the coffin dead and the other Black Bi-Pipa entangled with the rooster far away, decided to rescue the Howler Monkey pinned beneath the sarcophagus while everyone was distracted. It crept silently into the coffin, intending to move the zombie out to lessen the weight on the Purple-Gold Coffin.

Who knew that just as it pushed the zombie up from behind, the severed rooster head flew in precisely at that moment, splattering the zombie’s face with chicken blood. Monkeys fear seeing chicken blood the most, hence the saying, "Kill the chicken to scare the monkey." The monkey poked its head out, saw the gore, and noticed the half-severed rooster head lying beside it, its eyes wide open and seemingly staring right at it. Instantly, the monkey was scared out of its wits, let out a startled yelp, and scrambled out of the Purple-Gold Coffin in a panic, scrambling up a tree and fleeing into the woods.

As the monkey fled, the zombie in the coffin lost its support and thumped back down. Patrolling Partridge felt both exasperated and amused, muttering under his breath, "Damn ape, fleeing so fast." Seeing it wasn't the zombie transforming, a weight lifted from his heart. However, Patrolling Partridge did not let his guard down; instead, he felt even more strongly that the ancient corpse in the coffin was unusual. That zombie had been dead for at least several hundred years; its ability to remain uncorrupted underground and congeal into a jiang—the term for a zombie—must have a reason. Back then, the 'jiang' in jiangshi was likely written as '', implying that an underground corpse fossilized like hardened wax on a tree trunk, or a non-decaying corpse, which is a jiangshi. But even if the body didn't decay, it should be stiff as wood, with joints that couldn't bend. Yet, that monkey had pushed the ancient corpse up to a sitting position inside the coffin. Could it be that the zombie’s physical condition was like that of the living, indistinguishable from a live person?

In the desolate mountain regions of Xiang, Qian, eastern and western Guangdong, there were frequent legends of jiangshi that achieved sentience. These sentient zombies still used their burial coffins as lairs; covered in hair, they would leave the coffins after nightfall to prey on humans and livestock, known in folklore as "Corpse Kings."

Another theory held that the reason for the "Corpse King" designation was that the deceased had held a high status in life, and their burial accompaniments and corpse-preserving artifacts were rare and esoteric mingqi (burial objects). Once they reanimated, their transformation would be fierce, making ordinary talismans made of yellow paper or mere peach wood swords ineffective against them. A Corpse King must have been nobility in life; common folk buried simply would not be honored with such a title even if they reanimated. In reality, this reflected the prejudice prevalent in ancient times that revered the powerful.

The rumor that a "Xiangxi Corpse King" appears once a century was also largely unfounded; different eyewitness accounts of ancient zombies might not refer to the same corpse. Earlier, herb gatherers claimed to have seen a Corpse King in the fissures of Bottle Mountain; it might have been the desiccated corpse whose spine Patrolling Partridge had broken with the Kuixing Tido move. Judging by its attire, it was likely a warrior buried alive as a sacrifice in the tomb—the practice of live burial during the Yuan Dynasty was rampant, so this was not strange.

Patrolling Partridge had already seen that the ancient zombie in the Purple-Gold Coffin had gold powder in its mouth and nose, and though the body appeared desiccated, its features were lifelike, its heroic demeanor undiminished, and it could bend at the waist to sit up in the coffin. He therefore suspected that this Yuan Dynasty zombie harbored some precious object inside.

The Movable Mountain Taoists scoured the world solely to find the Mochen Pearl hidden inside the mouth of an ancient corpse. Encountering such a situation, Patrolling Partridge naturally would not let it go easily. But the zombie’s appearance was strange, necessitating caution. The safest course of action was to first break its bones and sever its tendons before meticulously searching its body.

A thought flashed through Patrolling Partridge's mind, and he resolved to act, only to hear a howling sound behind his head. With his senses alert in all directions, he swiftly dodged. A pebble, the size of a fist, shot past him and smashed hard against the wall of the Purple-Gold Coffin.

It turned out the band of monkeys hidden in the woods, seeing Patrolling Partridge approach the sarcophagus, assumed he was about to harm the Howler Monkey inside. They began pelting the three of them with stones they picked up. However, fearful of the chicken blood and severed head in the coffin, none dared approach closer than half a step, content to jeer and throw stones from a distance.

The monkeys, dwelling in the deep mountains and old forests, were incredibly mischievous. Whenever passing merchants appeared, they would follow stealthily, and when the travelers reached sheer cliffs or treacherous paths, the monkeys would suddenly start throwing stones. Merchants, caught off guard, would either fall into deep ravines or suffer injuries from the stones, often resulting in death. Their clothes and provisions would then be looted by the troop. These wild monkeys, having grown accustomed to such easy pickings, held outsiders in utter contempt, becoming a menace in Old Bear Mountain, more troublesome than bandits or brigands.

Stones, large and small, immediately rained down from the woods like a swarm of locusts. The guide failed to dodge in time, taking a direct hit on the back of his head. He felt stars explode before his eyes, and when he touched the spot, his hand came away sticky with fresh blood. The Miao man’s temper flared, and he cursed, "Everyone thinks I'm timid and afraid of trouble, but even these damned wild monkeys don't take me seriously. I'll let you lot know that even a mud statue has three parts of spirit!" While cursing, he picked up stones and threw them back, but the monkeys were too numerous. Another volley descended, forcing the Miao man to cover his head and flee, hastily seeking refuge near Patrolling Partridge.

Although Patrolling Partridge and Red Maiden were both agile, the barrage of flying stones was overwhelming, and they were struck a few times. Seeing the guide’s head bleeding profusely, Patrolling Partridge shoved him and Red Maiden into the Purple-Gold Coffin; fortunately, the coffin was extraordinarily large, easily accommodating three or four people. He himself seized the heavy coffin lid, spinning his body like a whirlwind... blocking the stones flying from all directions.

Patrolling Partridge had come to Bottle Mountain for grave robbing, yet before achieving his goal, he had already lost two companions, and the Xingling Bandits had suffered heavy casualties. This was an unprecedented setback in his life, and a nameless fire had been burning in his chest for three thousand feet. Filled with murderous intent that had nowhere to vent, the great matter of tomb robbing was paramount. He had initially intended to spare the life of the Howler Monkey beneath the Purple-Gold Coffin, but seeing the troop of monkeys acting as such a persistent nuisance, repeatedly disrupting the situation, and being unable to speak their language to communicate, he resolved to employ harsh measures: shake the mountain to startle the tiger, killing one to warn a hundred and eliminate future trouble.

With this thought, murderous intent flared in Patrolling Partridge’s eyes. He already harbored inner demons; true anger breeds sorrow, and once the thought of killing arose, he could not stop it. Killing one was the same as killing a hundred. A sharp glint flashed in his eyes, and seizing an opportune moment from behind the coffin lid, he raised the Mirror Casket and repeatedly pulled the trigger. The sound of bullets tearing through the night sky echoed; with every shot, a monkey tumbled down from a tree. His aim was precise enough to extinguish a candle flame from a hundred paces—truly, every shot found its mark. Each monkey was struck squarely in the middle of the forehead, dead from a bullet piercing its brain before it could even fall to the ground.

In the blink of an eye, twenty bullets had killed twenty monkeys. The remaining monkeys, large and small, were stunned into immobility, clinging to branches, their eyes wide open, motionless as wood carvings. Some were so terrified that they soiled themselves, dripping monkey urine from front and back. Finally, some unknown monkey led the charge, letting out a screech, and they scattered, fleeing headlong into the depths of the forest, never to return. From that day forward, the monkeys of Old Bear Mountain avoided anyone dressed in black as if they were venomous snakes and scorpions, a behavior that persists to this day.

Red Maiden and the Miao man heard the gunshots from inside the Purple-Gold Coffin and tentatively looked out. Witnessing Patrolling Partridge’s skill with the fast-firing gun, they were deeply shaken and unable to speak, thinking that this man’s methods were ruthlessly severe; surely, he killed people in the same manner, like a demonic lord slaying on the path to Asura.

At that very moment, the two roosters on the other side had fought the Black Bi-Pipa King to the bitter end. This life-or-death battle between natural enemies made the sun and moon seem dim. The Rage of Dawn Chicken was naturally the nemesis of scorpions and centipedes, but past midnight, with moonlight flooding the ground, it was not the opportune time for it to exert its full power. It managed to fight the Black Bi-Pipa to a draw. Golden chicken feathers and fragments of scorpion shell scattered among the raked-up fallen leaves, completely oblivious to the repeated carnage inflicted upon the monkey troop.

The other rooster, though not of the Rage of Dawn divine lineage, was also an outstanding, spirited fighting cock with colorful plumage and a high comb. Though severely wounded and covered in blood, it attacked desperately, refusing to retreat a single step.

The scorpion spirit, the Black Bi-Pipa, was an ancient, extremely malevolent creature dwelling near the Bottle Mountain tomb. However, given their opposing natures, it instinctively feared roosters by a margin of three parts. Although it initially used a burst of ferocity to snap off the head of one of the three roosters, it became entangled with the other two and, as time wore on, showed signs of decline, gradually struggling to hold its own.

But both roosters were only a few years old; how could they match the cunning of the Black Bi-Pipa King, who had consumed rare fungi for longevity? The scorpion suddenly curled up, leaving only its hard shell exposed to the tearing and pecking of the two golden roosters. Unsuspecting, the roosters rushed forward, flapping their wings and extending their talons.

The old scorpion, desperate to survive, had no choice but to risk the rooster crows and spew its venom. It slowly channeled all its toxicity into its tail. For its final gamble, it violently whipped out its steel-whip-like tail, releasing a cloud of black mist, darker than the night itself. This black mist was formed from vaporized, condensed venom—incredibly toxic. The Rage of Dawn Chicken knew the danger and dared not confront it head-on, crying out as it leaped into the air. However, the high-crested rooster was completely enveloped by the poisonous fog, its feathers instantly shedding and scattering, while its flesh and bones dissolved into foul blood.

Though the Black Bi-Pipa achieved a deadly strike, it was nearly exhausted. The Rage of Dawn Golden Chicken, suspended in mid-air, descended precisely at that moment. It fought ever more bravely, its descent swift as lightning. It seized the scorpion's tail and back, suddenly manifesting immense divine strength, and once again beat its wings upward, snatching the Black Bi-Pipa King into the sky like an eagle preying on a rabbit.

As they fell back down, the Phoenix-Crying Rage of Dawn Chicken had already flipped the scorpion onto its back. Its golden talons tore into the gaps in the scorpion's carapace. The Scorpion King Black Bi-Pipa, unable to bear the pain, twisted its segmented, grotesque body, wrapping itself around the rooster. Unfortunately, its abdominal shell had already been pierced by the chicken's claws. After a few struggles, its body contorted, and it died.

But the Black Bi-Pipa was indeed monstrous and ferocious; before death, its tail pierced through the abdomen of the Rage of Dawn Chicken, passing clean through, and its pincer claw severed one of the rooster's feet. These two natural enemies, destined for mutual destruction, died intertwined in a bloody heap, unable to separate even in death.

Patrolling Partridge, having finished dispatching the monkeys, turned back and witnessed this final scene, sighing softly with regret. This "Phoenix Chicken," rescued by him from the butcher’s blade of ignorant villagers, was a rare creature. As the saying goes, "A brave warrior dies under his sword, and a fine horse falls on the battlefield." The Rage of Dawn Chicken perishing together with the thousand-year-old Black Bi-Pipa King could be considered a fitting end—so tragic, yet better than becoming a meal for fools.

Seeing the dense woods sink back into dead silence, Patrolling Partridge said to Red Maiden and the Miao man, who were still staring, dumbfounded inside the Purple-Gold Coffin, "The coffin is shadowed and gloomy; we shouldn't linger here. Hurry out..."

Before he could finish speaking, a piercing, agonizing wail rose from the Howler Monkey beneath the Purple-Gold Coffin, as if struck by some immense fright that forced it to stop feigning death. The sound of its shriek agitated the treetops, impossibly eerie and terrifying.

Patrolling Partridge knew something was amiss; a great change was about to occur in Xiangxi’s Old Bear Mountain. He rushed over instantly, grabbing Red Maiden’s arm and yanking her out of the coffin. Although Red Maiden was brave, hearing the Howler Monkey's tragic cries made her heart race. She lacked Patrolling Partridge's iron will; her feet felt like they were treading on cotton, utterly disoriented.

Just then, a sound of grinding bones emanated from the Yuan Dynasty zombie inside the Purple-Gold Coffin, accompanied by the scratching of its claws against the inner lid of the coffin. The Miao man, realizing the zombie beneath him was about to become a walking corpse, felt his hair stand on end from fear. He scrambled with hands and feet, trying to climb out of the coffin, but sheer terror paralyzed him. He could only cry out, "Brother Mo, hurry and save my life..."

Patrolling Partridge dared not delay. Just as he was about to assist the guide Miao out, the zombie in the coffin suddenly sat up with a Teng!, opening its cavernous black mouth, revealing two rows of fangs, and lunged toward the back of Miao’s neck. It was like a ferocious tiger pouncing on a lamb, seizing the Miao man and beginning to bite him.

Patrolling Partridge was quick. Seeing the zombie suddenly open its mouth—it was clearly about to reanimate and suck the living person’s vital energy and essence—he didn't hesitate. He thrust the empty twenty-shot Mirror Casket into the Yuan Dynasty zombie's mouth. A sound of grinding teeth against metal ensued. At that critical moment, he prevented the zombie from biting the Miao man, whose soul nearly fled his body—he had truly skirted death.

Having deflected the attack for the guide Miao, Patrolling Partridge immediately extended his nimble arm and grabbed Miao by the collar, intending to pull him out of the Purple-Gold Coffin. Who knew that the zombie’s fingernails had grown monstrously long, puncturing Miao’s arm, gripping with seemingly immense force. Patrolling Partridge pulled, but couldn't budge the guide an inch.

Patrolling Partridge reacted swiftly, and when one tactic failed, he prepared another plan to rescue him, when a thunderous roar, like a massive clap of thunder, shook the dense forest, as if the sky itself were splitting apart.