The boundless twilight pressed in from all sides, heavily constricting the small hilltop. The endless sea of clouds, like a surging black tide, stretched far into the distance, weaving with the lingering sunset glow to burn itself into ash.

A gust of wind swept past, startling a flurry of crows into the air.

In Bai Er Laizi's sprawling courtyard, which was roughly square, the two bulky wooden gates swung back and forth in the evening breeze, slamming against the walls with sharp cracks.

The entire courtyard had been layered with a thick spread of glutinous rice—all of it aged for three years or more. This was an immense luxury in an era barely recovered from natural disaster, much to the displeasure of some villagers. However, facing the murmurs of dissent, Zhang Enpu had his own explanation: this zombie had evolved into a spirit, one that had already drunk the blood of many, elevating its power far beyond its former state. If it wasn't eliminated now, both villages would be doomed. Hearing Zhang Enpu’s reasoning, Village Chief Tian and Village Chief Zhao conferred. They thought the old Daoist looked rather immortal and dignified; at least he seemed more reliable than the average charlatan. Sigh, they decided to try this as a last resort—a dead horse is better than nothing. If he also gave up and left, they would truly be helpless. With a clenching of teeth, they agreed to all of Zhang Enpu’s demands. These several large sacks of glutinous rice were the result of their arduous efforts, running door-to-door to solicit contributions.

Zhang Enpu’s second requirement was four strong helpers from the village. Village Chief Zhao was acutely aware of the zombie's capabilities. He not only selected four sturdy young men for Zhang Enpu but also handed over the village’s only two hunters. More hands were better than fewer, a logic Zhang Enpu readily accepted. Currently, those two veteran hunters lay silently prone on the roof of Bai Er Laizi’s house, their bodies bundled deep within thick padded coats, not uttering a sound. Their hands gripped the hunting rifles, polished slick with lard, their eyes narrowed to mere slits, waiting for their target to appear.

A closer look would reveal four young men crouched quietly behind the straw bales dotted around the courtyard perimeter. Bai Er Laizi was among them. This time, he had offered not only his yard but also his own men. To put it simply, Bai Er Laizi was single-minded, straightforward, and entirely focused on purging this menace for the sake of the village. The two widowed daughters he had taken in were temporarily housed with a neighboring family he trusted. Glancing at the men beside him, Bai Er Laizi unconsciously tightened his grip on the bamboo pole in his hand, silently vowing to avenge the widows by brutally smashing the son-of-a-bitch zombie to death later.

Of course, another person shared the exact same resolve: Wang Weizhen, who was also Granny Fan’s old flame, the so-called Immortal Wang Banxian. Wang Weizhen was clad in a gray Daoist robe, two peach wood swords strapped across his back, and his waist was laden with talismans—truly fully armed. He knew exactly how capable he was, but Wang Weizhen had persuaded Zhang Enpu to let him stay on as well. After all, he was technically a Daoist, albeit a self-taught one, which was still better than these mere farmers. To be honest, Wang Weizhen was not a brave man; quite the opposite, he was extremely timid. Yet, at this moment, his eyes were burning red, so red they seemed ready to spit fire. He had only one thought echoing in his mind: revenge, revenge, revenge!

The small courtyard was saturated with the scent of impending slaughter. The entire Xiushan Village was unnaturally quiet, so silent that the fall of a single needle could be heard clearly. The villagers had long complied, hiding in their homes, bolting the doors, and trembling by their heated brick beds. This pleased Zhang Enpu greatly, as he believed that not causing trouble was the best form of cooperation. Village Chief Tian, Village Chief Zhao, and Tian Guoqiang had all been politely persuaded by Zhang Enpu—under the pretext that it would be inconvenient to protect them during a fight—to retire to the neighboring room, ostensibly for "wartime command."

Outside the courtyard, basins of animal blood had been scattered. The scent was pungent, exuding whiffs of fishy stench. With this bait, Zhang Enpu was confident the Hanba would come.

"Old Daoist, is that thing really going to show up?" Liu Dashao muttered doubtfully from inside the room. He glanced out the window; midnight was approaching. The ambient temperature had dropped noticeably. He quickly grabbed a cloth robe and moved closer to Zhang Enpu to share the warmth. Zhang Enpu smiled faintly, a wisp of his white beard gently stirring in the night wind that swept into the room, occasionally tickling Liu Dashao’s cheek.

"A malevolent entity, once it sets its sights on a target, will relentlessly pursue that objective regardless of circumstance. Unlike humans, they don't employ intellect or know when to retreat. They won't stop unless you kill them or somehow use Daoist magic to fabricate an objective they desire. Most zombies lack intelligence; they only know how to attack beings with yang energy based on scent. I judge that this Hanba, having consumed so much human blood, has become a Hanba King. But with thorough preparation and sufficient manpower, I certainly have a method to deal with it," Zhang Enpu stated with absolute confidence.

Liu Dashao nodded and hummed in acknowledgement. After much searching through his pack, he finally found a bamboo tube containing black dog's blood, along with a stack of yellow talismans Zhang Enpu had rushed to prepare over the past few days. These had been smoked over the ancestral altar incense burner for twelve hours. While their spiritual potency couldn't rival the naturally blessed orthodox charms from Longhu Mountain, they were better than nothing.

Thinking this, Liu Dashao handed the yellow papers to Zhang Enpu. Zhang Enpu nodded, pulling out the darkened compass from his pouch and using it to anchor a corner of the talisman stack on the table, preventing the cold night wind from scattering them through the window. At this moment, booming snores were already drifting down from the roof—clearly, those two elite hunters had already retired to meet the Duke of Zhou. Zhang Enpu couldn't help but shake his head slightly.

Once preparations were complete, Liu Dashao nestled close to Zhang Enpu again. The outer robe was barely large enough for both of them. Zhang Enpu gently pulled the robe further over Liu Dashao, covering his entire body, leaving half of his own arm exposed. Liu Dashao didn't mind; he smiled briefly before intently watching the doors and windows, his ears occasionally twitching to catch any subtle sound from outside. Zhang Enpu stared silently at the compass. After a long pause, he slowly closed his eyes, activating his Yin-Yang sight, settling in to conserve his energy.

The mountain wind caused the few cypress trees in the village to rustle loudly. Often, fallen leaves, blown free from the branches, would drift against the villagers' windows, creating sharp little taps. The poultry and livestock in the village also settled down into quiet repose, occasionally punctuated only by insect chirps woven into the sound of the rushing wind.

Midnight—the juncture when heaven and earth meet, where Yin governs the cosmos while Yang rests. The entity expected to appear, as Zhang Enpu predicted, could no longer restrain itself.

Bai Er Laizi’s house was pitch black inside. The cold mountain wind made the surrounding fence sway violently, appearing fragile yet steadfastly refusing to collapse. A few leaves, carried by the wind, drifted toward the doorway of Bai Er Laizi's house; just as they neared the window, a much stronger gust swept them aside.

A dark shadow paused at the edge of the village, trailed by gusts of chilling wind. It was a moonless, high-wind night. The shadow gazed upward at the dim, pale moon for a long moment before letting out a soft 'huff' and leaping into the air. After a brief flight, its eyes suddenly flared with an eerie red light. Just then, the wind blew the dark clouds apart, and under the illumination of the nearly full moon, the figure resembled the Black Impermanence emerging from the underworld to claim souls.

Two large yellow dogs, having just finished mating and settling down for sleep, caught the scent with their keen noses. They lifted their heads to gaze at the sky, trembling so violently they shook all over, quickly scrambling back into their kennel with muffled whines. From deep within the mountains came the long, echoing howls of wild beasts.

Back at Bai Er Laizi's house, Liu Dashao was struggling to keep his eyes open, his head drooping periodically before slowly lifting again. He hadn't registered the strange cry carried on the wind; it seemed to exist only in his dreams.

The yellow papers pinned beneath the compass on the table suddenly fluttered wildly—hualala—as if tiny birds were desperate to break free from their cage. The compass needle began to swing erratically left and right. Zhang Enpu’s gaze sharpened as he noted every one of these ominous warnings.

"It's here..." Zhang Enpu murmured softly, his expression grave. A wooden sword, finely crafted from peach wood, slid from the sleeve of his long robe. He picked up several yellow talismans, clutching them tightly in his hand, and sat upright on the stool, silently adopting a posture of waiting for the hare by the stump.

Liu Dashao was jolted from his dream-like state by the slight tremor in Zhang Enpu's body. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he started to ask if dawn had broken, only to suddenly remember that this was no longer a time for leisurely comfort. He vigorously scrubbed his eyes and asked tensely, "Old Daoist... is that thing here?"

Zhang Enpu nearly tumbled off his stool from the absurdity of it. The boy had just woken up! Disaster was imminent, and he hadn't even noticed. Alas, if I weren't here, Liu Dashao would surely be meat on the chopping block, a lamb before the tiger's jaws. Without answering Liu Dashao, he steadied his composure and continued to focus on the sounds outside.

No night wind penetrated the room now, yet the flame of the battered oil lamp began to whip and slant seemingly on its own, pulled by some unseen, mysterious force. The silhouettes of the old man and the youth flickered wildly, distorted by the fleeting light.

Seeing this, Liu Dashao realized the gravity of the situation. He scrambled to gather his equipment, pulling out his pack to be ready to hand whatever Zhang Enpu needed, managing an embarrassed, apologetic smile.

The sound of the wind outside ceased for a brief moment, then suddenly resumed, far more fiercely than before. The aging wooden window frame began to groan under the strain, letting out a shrill squeak... squeak... In the room, Zhang Enpu remained unmoved. He knew this was the creature issuing a warning: "Mind your own business." Or perhaps, any filthy thing first creates eerie, frightening noise to erode the opponent's will before launching an attack.

To Zhang Enpu, however, this was like being flicked by a strand of hair. He felt no panic; rather, it provoked a touch of ridicule. It seems this thing holds some apprehension toward me. Only Liu Dashao, sitting beside him, was beginning to show beads of cold sweat on his forehead.

In his long life, he had seen many minor demons and minor ghosts in the mountains and temples, but the sheer chilling, malevolent aura radiating from the Hanba outside was enough to make him extremely tense. Adding this aggressive posturing made it a genuine psychological challenge for Liu Dashao, who was facing such a "grand spectacle" for the first time. The terror remained, and Liu Dashao instinctively pressed closer to Zhang Enpu, desperately wishing for the ordeal to end quickly.

By the straw bales, Wang Weizhen's small, triangular eyes snapped open, gleaming with a sharp light. He glanced at the wind-whipped courtyard gate, cautiously shifted his steps, and woke the four drowsy strongmen one by one.

"Wh-what is it?" Bai Er Laizi, in the midst of dreaming about marrying a wife and about to enter the bridal chamber, was startled into jumping up when someone slapped him.

"Hush!" Wang Weizhen signaled with his eyes and made a gesture for silence to the others. He quietly pointed his index finger toward the door.

Bai Er Laizi instantly understood. He covered his mouth with his hand, then lowered his voice, asking gently, "Immortal Wang Banxian, could it be that zombie..."

Wang Weizhen nodded heavily. The hearts of the four strongmen immediately dropped like fifteen buckets in a well; goosebumps erupted everywhere, and the hair on their bodies stood on end. One man with poorer composure let his elbow tremble uncontrollably.

"Don't be nervous. When that thing comes in, do exactly as I say, and don't let your guard down." Wang Weizhen observed their fear, then glanced toward the inner room. Seeing the shadows of Zhang Enpu and Liu Dashao poised by the window, he smiled faintly. He moved his hand behind his back, pressed his spine down, and drew out a peach wood sword soaked in black dog's blood, holding it horizontally before his chest, poised to strike.

At that precise moment, the two wooden doors were suddenly sucked inward by the wind with a loud bang as they slammed shut. Immediately, a suffocating, bloody stench crawled over the high enclosing wall and slipped inside. Although the strongmen tried to cover their noses, they were choked to the point of gasping for air. One man even curled up like a shrimp on the ground, coughing violently. Wang Weizhen's old face flushed a deep purplish-red, yet he did not relax his vigilance in the slightest.

"It's here! Set the formation!" Suddenly, Wang Weizhen roared. He flipped in mid-air, drew his right hand into a sword-finger gesture, gave a pull on his back, and the second peach wood sword sprang from its sheath, flying straight toward the doorway with a swoosh as it targeted the opening. Simultaneously, the two wooden doors collapsed inward, and a dark silhouette appeared in the doorway. That sword, having some inherent spirituality, followed Wang Weizhen’s command, striking the dark shape squarely in the abdomen. With a puching sound, it was impossible to tell how deep the gash went. Wang Weizhen ignored it; he retracted his body and rolled toward the exact south side of the glutinous rice patch, wielding his other peach wood sword in a magnificent, swirling motion, and shouted sternly, "Bring out the corpse-binding ropes!"

"Do it!"

"Do it!" Led by Bai Er Laizi, the four strongmen sprang from the straw bales. In their left hands, they held large coils of hemp rope; in their right, they spun the hooked ends of the ropes like windmills. The ropes whistled through the air, waiting for the zombie to deliver itself to them.

"Hee... hee..." The Hanba let out a few dry, sinister laughs that sounded as if they leaked from its throat, echoing eerily. The noise was grating, like having a needle poked into one's ear. Looking at the creature's flowing hair and the two protruding fangs carved beneath its pale complexion, the four strongmen, who moments before had looked like an advancing army, instantly turned into puddles of water. They stopped boasting and shouting, their legs trembling in place, their teeth chattering audibly. One fellow named Heishan promptly dropped to his knees, muttering, "Oh, dear mother, how terrifying this zombie is!" Seeing those long fangs, Heishan immediately recalled the villagers who had died and the corpse of Li Fei. His heart hammered as he thought, Don't bite me, don't bite me.

"Useless trash!" Wang Weizhen felt like dying upon seeing Heishan’s reaction. Damn it, this Celestial Master thought of formations and arrangements, but I never factored in the low tolerance for shock among these peasants! There was no choice; he had to rely on himself at the critical moment. With that thought, Wang Weizhen spat twice into his palms, gripped his peach wood sword, and swept it in a half-circle before him, scattering the ground rice high into the air toward the Hanba. The Hanba instinctively tried to dodge, but it stepped directly onto the mud covered in the rice. A sharp wail erupted, and wisps of white vapor rose from its feet. The rice nearest its feet immediately turned charcoal black, and the air filled with the smell of scorching. "Watch this!" Wang Weizhen acted decisively, throwing another handful of rice. This time, he didn't miss; it struck the Hanba directly. Wang Weizhen was overjoyed. He knew that glutinous rice was the bane of zombies; as long as a zombie touched it, it was no longer to be feared. Although this zombie was ferocious, the entire courtyard was paved with rice; surely this would turn the fiend into a sticky rice dumpling. Thinking this, Wang Weizhen burst into laughter, but the laughter was cut short after only one sound. He noticed the Hanba slowly hopping toward him. With every hop, the rice it stepped on was scorched black, leaving a trail of dark footprints behind her.

Damn it, Wang Weizhen's head throbbed—truly throbbing! This thing was too fierce! So much rice couldn't restrain it; was this even a zombie? Nevertheless, Wang Weizhen possessed some experience in handling such matters and quickly pushed his panic aside. He beckoned toward Bai Er Laizi, "Kid, what are you doing standing there? Move!"

"Oh, oh, oh, move, move..." The others finally snapped back to reality. They positioned themselves at the four cardinal points and began whirling their lassos with fervor. Bai Er Laizi struck first, tossing his wrist; the heavy iron hook flew out and snagged around the Hanba's waist. The hook had enough weight to swing around the creature's body several times before dropping down. The other three followed suit. In a short while, the Hanba was bound up like a candied date. The four men looked at each other, then both hands seized the ropes and pulled backward with brute force. Stretched by their combined effort, the ropes became taut, pinning the Hanba in place, unable to move.

"Roar..." The Hanba shrieked fiercely, abandoning Wang Weizhen to lunge toward Bai Er Laizi.

"Change formation, change formation!" Wang Weizhen saw the danger and quickly directed them. Without prompting, the four men, having received training from Zhang Enpu, acted instinctively as fear receded in the face of death. Seeing the Hanba move toward Bai Er Laizi, the two men pulling the ropes opposite to him immediately increased the strain on their arms, hoisting the ropes over their shoulders and yanking backward like oxen pulling a heavy cart. Meanwhile, Bai Er Laizi and Heishan stepped back several paces, tightening the ropes that had slackened, thus immobilizing the Hanba once more.