Before the words had even fully left his mouth, a dull thud, not particularly loud but distinct, overcame the rustling of the surrounding weeds. Breaking through the soil, a pitch-black coffin emerged into view. Upon closer inspection, the coffin measured about two meters long and one meter wide, covered entirely in pustules the size of ping-pong balls, giving it a semi-translucent appearance that shimmered with reds and greens in the sunlight—a vibrant, multi-colored spectacle, much like the chickenpox on human skin. Half the lid of the coffin had already popped open, and the large coffin nails, thick as a little finger, had been pried loose by some external force. They now hung precariously, clinking softly, resembling a group of withered old men swaying in the wind, ready to topple at any moment. Strange as it seemed, this Hanba (drought demon), the very culprit behind the drought in Xiushui Village, had devastated the land for dozens of li, turning the earth into cracked turtle shells and drying out all trees and plants—this was its handiwork, too. Yet, the site of the Hanba's grave was utterly bizarre. Why? Because in the deep pit that had expelled the coffin, a small puddle had formed, and the entire coffin looked thoroughly soaked, as if just hauled from water.

Young Master Liu and the others were not like Zhang Enpu, who operated as an independent contractor within the formal structures of Taoism—and a leading figure among them, at that. They couldn't sense the malevolent aura (sha qi) at all; they were merely nauseated by the stench of rot emanating from the coffin. After a moment, Young Master Liu and Tian Guoqiang exchanged a glance, covered their noses, and cautiously approached the coffin. Instantly, their faces turned ashen with fright. The most dramatic reaction belonged to Tian Guoqiang; his small, beady eyes, usually diminutive, were stretched wide open by whatever was inside, appearing as if they might pop out—a surprising sharpness to the boy's gaze, after all.

Zhang Enpu fared no better; he stood paralyzed beside the coffin, as if struck by a cerebral thrombosis, momentarily at a loss for what to do.

Inside the coffin, it was filled to the brim with turbid water, resembling a giant goldfish tank. The foul, fishy odor originated from this water. What was odd was that Alan's skeletal remains were submerged in it, yet they hadn't decomposed; they were merely swollen and bloated. But then the discrepancy struck him: Alan’s body had been doused with several large barrels of gasoline by Village Chief Tian and burned to a crisp—she should have been reduced to charcoal! How could there still be flesh?

Young Master Liu’s heart clenched. A zombie! It was absolutely, undeniably a zombie! Alan floated in the coffin, unrotted, but her musculature was utterly unlike that of a normal corpse—it was dark and blackened. He recalled a provincial scientist once boasting about excavating a perfectly preserved body from an ancient tomb, lifelike in appearance. Had he not witnessed this now, Liu might not have believed it. This woman was a living biology lesson, utterly horrifying.

The coffin was full of murky, filthy water, much like the large specimens in laboratory jars. The Hanba Alan, submerged within, resembled a specimen soaked in formalin. Perhaps that description wasn't visceral enough. To be cruder: had they seen those traditional medicinal liquors brewed with goji berries, ginseng, and snakes? That was the repulsive sensation Alan now evoked.

Young Master Liu managed a wry smile, looking at the female zombie floating in the coffin, feeling an unexpected urge to weep. He had only ever heard terrifying tales of zombies from the elders; today, he actually had an appointment with one.

Due to buoyancy, the Hanba's upper body floated to the surface. The jostling when the coffin erupted had only just settled, and now half her head was visible, swaying slightly. Her hair had long dissolved, and her face was indistinguishable—no nose, no eyes—like a blank sheet of paper, or a peeled, hard-boiled egg. Her eye sockets were absolute black voids; it was impossible to tell if they were empty or if the entire orb was just a single black mass. Bony fangs pierced out from beneath her lower lip. The muscles on her face seemed frozen, as if she had endured hundreds of Botox injections in a single day, her expression rigid and lifeless.

Zhang Enpu steadied himself, suppressing the tremor in his heart. He pointed his peach-wood sword at the Hanba's resting place and roared, “Insolent fiend, emerge and surrender!” He then drew his sword across his body, planted his Heavenly Star Horse Stance, and assumed an attacking posture, though in truth, he was still deliberating where best to strike.

Just then, the Hanba in the watery coffin abruptly snapped her eyes open. Suddenly, a fierce gale erupted, making the surrounding trees thrash violently, nearly blinding everyone. Ma Xiaoyan buried her head tightly in Young Master Liu’s embrace.

“Cease this madness!” Zhang Enpu bent down, fished a talisman from his robes, ignited it, and tossed it toward the coffin. Immediately, the howling wind in the woods died down. Before anyone could exhale in relief, they heard a sloshing sound. The Hanba, lying in the coffin, suddenly sat bolt upright, fixing them with a malevolent gaze. Her face was terrifyingly pale, her eyes vacant and lifeless. Her already fair skin had turned the stark white of snow.

“Aoo!” the Hanba shrieked hideously, and a dark shadow shot out of the coffin toward Young Master Liu and Ma Xiaoyan.

From the beginning, the trio of Liu, Tian, and Ma had been too terrified to speak, their legs trembling uncontrollably where they stood. Ma Xiaoyan kept her head buried in Liu’s back, oblivious to the incoming threat. Young Master Liu’s pupils dilated as he saw the black shape, forgetting entirely to move.

“Be careful!” Tian Guoqiang cried out in panic. At this close range, he clearly saw it was a massive locust, perhaps two or three times the size of a rat, and possibly venomous. Being bitten would certainly be disastrous.

Tian Guoqiang’s warning jolted Young Master Liu back to awareness, but it was too late. The locust was only a meter away, and with Ma Xiaoyan holding him around the waist, her head pressed against his back, evasion was impossible.

In the nick of time, when the locust was less than half a meter from Liu and Xiaoyan, Zhang Enpu, who had been standing by, moved. With incredible speed, he reached the pair and executed a graceful sword flourish, dispatching the wretched creature.

“Liu, Xiaoyan, are you alright?” Seeing Zhang Enpu handle the locust, Tian Guoqiang rushed over, his face etched with concern.

Zhang Enpu frowned. “Stop dawdling. Be alert, watch for an opening, and when you get a chance, douse this thing with black dog blood. Understand?”

“Mm,” the three nodded. Only when Zhang Enpu resheathed his sword did Ma Xiaoyan realize what had happened, her face turning deathly pale from the shock.

Having missed its first strike, the Hanba became even more frenzied, repeatedly commanding the locusts in the coffin to beat their wings and charge at Young Master Liu and the others. This time, the four had defenses ready; either Zhang Enpu cleared the path or the strikes missed, causing no serious harm. The only mishap was Ma Xiaoyan tripping and falling while dodging, though thankfully Young Master Liu was close by, so she remained unharmed, save for a soiled dress. At that moment, the Hanba itself leaped dripping from the coffin.

“Quick, pour the black dog blood!” With the locusts gone, Zhang Enpu gripped his peach-wood sword in his right hand and a talisman in his left, charging toward the Hanba.

Heeding Zhang Enpu’s cry, the three frantically opened the wooden bucket filled with black dog blood. Since they were a considerable distance from the Hanba's grave, they moved slowly, one deliberate step after another, carrying the heavy bucket toward her.

Reaching the Hanba, Zhang Enpu drew an arcane symbol in the air, sent a charm flying toward her, and immediately lunged with his sword. The peach-wood sword glowed with a warm, reddish aura as it aimed for her upper torso. Zhang Enpu didn't actually intend to skewer this female ‘diver’; the Hanba was covered in scales, and common magical implements stood little chance of inflicting substantive damage, let alone this cheap, five-for-a-dollar street vendor’s tool. His true goal was simple: to distract the Hanba and create an opportunity for Young Master Liu waiting nearby.

The Hanba seemed to anticipate Zhang Enpu’s intentions, standing her ground without dodging or retreating. She let him strike, her eyes locked solely on the movements of Young Master Liu and the others. This put Zhang Enpu in a bind. Although his maneuvers were dazzling, he dared not strike with full force, fearing that too much power would destroy his fragile weapon without harming the demon, leading to immense embarrassment.

“Hee hee hee hee hee…” The Hanba suddenly let out a sharp, piercing laugh, like the sound of a fine steel saw grating, high-pitched and trembling, utterly grating to the ear. The laugh seemed to taunt: Go on, old man, if you dare, stab me!

“Die!” Young Master Liu, who had been waiting for the moment, seized the instant the Hanba was cackling and unhesitatingly hurled the black dog blood at her.

The Hanba, however, had not been completely lost in her arrogance; she had been guarding against the black dog blood. As Young Master Liu threw it, she executed a backward leap, easily evading the spray. “Hee hee hee…” The Hanba laughed triumphantly again.

“Damn it!” Liu cursed, stunned that his ambush had failed; the Hanba's reaction speed was incredible. Yet, the spilled black dog blood wasn't entirely useless—it had soaked Zhang Enpu from head to toe, making him smell foul and leaving him feeling utterly defeated.

Zhang Enpu, drenched in dog blood, could barely contain his fury, nearly choking on his anger at receiving such "five-star service" as a master of the Heavenly Dao. But being the seasoned figure he was, a swift thought brought him renewed cheer. He pulled out several talismans, wiped them against his body to coat them in the black dog blood, and aggressively lunged toward the Hanba.

The Hanba immediately noticed Zhang Enpu's maneuver and watched him warily. Zhang Enpu darted beside the demon, stabbed his peach-wood sword into the ground, and held a blood-soaked talisman in each hand, preparing to press them onto her Lingtai acupoint. Sticking these charms onto the Hanba, while not annihilating her, should at least diminish her powers significantly.

As the King of Zombies, the Hanba could not allow Zhang Enpu this victory easily. When he drew near, she instantly attacked. Although black dog blood posed little true threat to her, perhaps due to instinct or some other reason, she exhibited a strange, inexplicable fear toward the dark, fetid liquid. If the Hanba had been determined to flee, Zhang Enpu would have been helpless to stop her. But where would she run? This was her lair. If she left, where in hundreds of li could she find another Yin-gathering pool so rich in malevolent energy?

Zhang Enpu moved swiftly, and the Hanba was not slow either. Although she narrowly avoided having the blood-drenched talismans affixed to her several times, she managed to dodge them all. While the Hanba displayed a cognitive breakthrough compared to ordinary zombies, her attacks remained simplistic: ceaselessly sweeping her long-nailed claws toward Zhang Enpu’s neck and chest.

The Hanba's assault caused Zhang Enpu considerable trouble. He had to simultaneously affix the talismans and dodge stones and branches flying in from the periphery, making him look extremely disheveled. Meanwhile, Young Master Liu and the others watched tensely. Only one bucket of black dog blood remained; if they failed again, their chances of survival were questionable. The battle between the Hanba and Zhang Enpu was fierce, the sounds of colliding flesh echoing sharply, giving the onlookers no opening whatsoever.

“Qiangzi, give me that bucket, damn it,” Young Master Liu commanded Tian Guoqiang, whose legs were trembling incessantly beside him.

Tian Guoqiang turned back, looking at Liu dumbfounded. “What are you doing? That’s the last bucket of black dog blood! If this fails…”

“I know,” Liu said impatiently, snatching the bucket. Seeing that Zhang Enpu couldn't manage to stick the blood-soaked talismans onto the Hanba, and that his own group had no opportunity, he conceived a reckless idea: douse himself entirely in the black dog blood and engage the Hanba in 'close contact.' If he could just grapple with her, everyone else would have a chance. Liu’s intention was good, but the execution was monumentally difficult. Zhang Enpu, a trained martial artist, couldn't even brush the Hanba's hem; what chance did a boy who had been visibly shaking moments before stand?

Tian Guoqiang and Ma Xiaoyan were not fools. As Young Master Liu began coating himself in the black dog blood, they instantly understood his plan. Simultaneously, they inwardly lamented Liu’s ingenuity for coming up with such a desperate tactic.

“Liu, be careful,” Ma Xiaoyan said worriedly as Young Master Liu finished painting himself entirely with the dark liquid and prepared to advance. She had a terrible premonition; while his idea might work, he was facing a sentient, fully formed zombie. If this gambit failed, his fate would surely be grim.

“Old monster, your Grandpa Liu is here!” Young Master Liu reached the fighting zone between Zhang Enpu and the Hanba, leaping toward his target. Despite the swirling dust, sand, and debris, he paid it no mind. If he could eliminate this scourge, a few injuries meant nothing.

The Hanba gasped in alarm when she saw the blood-drenched Liu charging at her, and she quickly retreated. Zhang Enpu’s speed and technique were already swift and uncanny, making him incredibly difficult to counter, but she hadn't noticed Liu anointing himself earlier while she was focused on the Taoist master. Fortunately, Young Master Liu was not a gifted jumper, and the flying debris in the air impeded his trajectory. Combined with her own rapid retreat, he failed to connect. Though Liu missed the Hanba, he succeeded in disrupting her concentration, providing Zhang Enpu with a golden opportunity. As the Hanba frantically backed away to avoid the lunging Liu, Zhang Enpu accelerated, successfully slapping the talisman onto her body. He then delivered a flying kick, sending the Hanba crashing into a large tree behind her before she came to a stop.

Thumped against the trunk, the Hanba listed her head, immediately collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

“Yes! We did it!” Seeing the talisman affixed, Tian Guoqiang shouted in triumph, happily trotting toward the fallen demon, intending to deliver a few satisfying kicks to vent his frustration. But Zhang Enpu stopped him. “Don’t go over there! There’s something wrong—be careful of a trick.” Having practiced Taoism since childhood, Zhang Enpu’s experience was profound. Most spirits or ghouls struck by black dog blood would cry out in pain or show some visible chain reaction. This Hanba, however, lay utterly motionless after being struck by the blood-soaked charm, which was deeply suspicious. If the Wuding Zhenshi Fu (Five Fiends Corpse Suppressing Talisman) treated with black dog blood truly worked, the Hanba should exhibit some reaction, however small. Her total stillness suggested the blood had no effect—in other words, this Hanba had truly achieved sentience.