The Corpse Workshop Mill

Linhe Fang had a sizable mill that produced enough rice, flour, grains, and oil daily not only for every household in the district but also had surplus to supply outsiders who came to purchase or trade.

However, it was strange. Despite such a prosperous business, the mill never seemed to have artisans or laborers going out to buy fodder for donkeys or mules, nor were there any donkey or mule droppings being transported out.

Some curious itinerant martial artists gossiped that Linhe Fang, following the waterway south, led to the Xiang River basin. They claimed the mill wasn't powered by donkeys or mules at all, but by the wandering corpses from Xiangyin!

Wandering corpses were also called zombies. At first, people were skeptical when they heard these rumors. Later, some officials came forward to clarify, arresting a few loose-lipped martial artists and publicly stating that these individuals were driven by envy and slandered the mill out of malice because of its success.

As for the fate of those martial artists, it vanished without a trace, just like the matter itself.

Linhe Fang, a bustling hub of trade and commerce within Great Yong.

The sounds of porters carrying burdens were drowned out by the laughter and curses of patrons and gamblers within the district, and even the roar of the waves from the Baisha River, a hundred miles wide, at the nearby pier couldn't mask the lively atmosphere of Linhe Fang.

To the southwest of the district, in a sizable mill, Xu Qing, who had been in a daze all day, seemed to be somewhat awakened by the lively atmosphere outside.

So much grinding!

So tiring!

When Xu Qing opened his eyes, he found his body's joints were unusually stiff, and he was performing repetitive actions like a tireless machine.

In front of him stood a massive millstone, and on the ground was a circular stone trough filled with grains that needed to be ground.

And he was mechanically pushing the mill handle, moving in a circle around the stone trough.

I'm not dead?

Xu Qing instinctively tried to step away from his task, but his body seemed unresponsive. Only then did his long-buried memories melt away like winter snow, and many scenes resurfaced in his mind.

Boss, security guard, car thief, high beams...

As the fragments of memory reassembled, Xu Qing's last hope was extinguished.

In his memory, he worked during the day and delivered food as a part-time job at night. However, when it came time to collect his wages, his boss, having lost money in the stock market, had already fled.

Although he had an unscrupulous boss, life had to go on.

That night, the unemployed Xu Qing continued his part-time food delivery job. The neighborhood security guard, exercising his limited authority, refused to let delivery riders park their vehicles at the entrance of the complex.

Xu Qing didn't want to argue, so he parked his motorcycle far away. But when he returned, he saw a car thief, also working the night shift, riding his second-hand motorcycle, while the security guard pretended not to notice.

Xu Qing, already fuming, didn't think twice and took off in pursuit.

As the saying goes, misfortune always strikes the unfortunate, and the rope always breaks at its thinnest point.

Xu Qing chased the thief all the way to the main road. Panting, he bent over, hands on his knees, and before he could catch his breath, a blinding beam of light suddenly shone from the side of the road – it was a car with its high beams on.

The driver of the private car, working during the day and driving for ride-sharing services at night to supplement his income and pay off his mortgage, was too fatigued from continuous late nights of picking up passengers to react in time.

The piercing screech of brakes and horns tore through the night.

In that instant, the colorful world turned grayscale, as if paused and frozen.

Then, new memories rippled like ink spreading on water. The frozen neon night scenes transformed into an ink wash painting. Old dirt roads took shape, and ancient-style buildings rose from the ground. These were the memories he had unconsciously retained after becoming a walking corpse.

When Xu Qing finally regained consciousness, he found himself in another world.

Fortunately, this body was still his own. Unfortunately, this body was as dead as could be.

He was now a zombie, one that had been picked up by a corpse driver, refined, and sold to the mill as a laborer.

As the old saying goes, life has three hardships: blacksmithing, boating, and grinding tofu.

Xu Qing never imagined that one day he would experience one of those hardships.

He wanted to break free from the control, but he couldn't gain control of his body at all.

It was a technique the corpse driver had left on him.

"..."

The moon was full in Linhe Fang tonight, but Xu Qing couldn't make a sound, even though his heart was deafeningly loud.

What kind of world is this?

The dead are forced to work?

He thought he had surpassed the limits of the living by toiling like an ox and horse in his previous life, but he never expected that even after death, there would be more blessings awaiting him!

What sins had he committed in his life? Not only did he not get to drink a bowl of hot Meng Po soup at the end, but he was also refined into a zombie to continue working, and in the night shift, which he hated the most!

Xu Qing had never been so indignant.

People say that dripping water wears through stone, it's not a feat of a single day.

Now, Xu Qing's long-suppressed emotions were like millions of water droplets converging into a torrent, about to break through the dam.

Just as his zombie energy surged and he was about to completely lose his consciousness, a majestic aura suddenly emerged from the depths of his mind, accompanied by bursts of chanting. In an instant, it smoothed out the resentment that had begun to grow within him.

What just happened to me? These scriptures...

Before Xu Qing could ponder further, another scripture appeared before his eyes. Countless ancient characters transformed into celestial melodies and chants that echoed in his mind.

The scripture seemed like a living Buddha or immortal expounding the teachings, saying that the path to immortality was distant and the path of humanity was vast.

It also stated that the path of immortality was precious and the path of ghosts was connected...

Xu Qing listened, feeling lost and disoriented, as if he were about to ascend to the heavens but was also drifting aimlessly, unable to find the way.

Finally, as the obscure scripture finished being recited, the scroll unfurled another page. This time, instead of bizarre celestial script, it displayed scenes from his life.

These scenes held not only the bitterness of his day-and-night toil but also many tender moments he had overlooked in his daily life.

Just as Xu Qing was about to immerse himself in them, a celestial voice echoed, striking him like a thunderclap, jolting him awake.

"The void is ever-changing, foul energies bloom. Few preserve truth, many are led astray. Thus the immortal path is hard to maintain, the demonic path easily turns to evil."

The scripture, radiating boundless mystery, slowly closed. Only then did Xu Qing notice the inscription on its front.

It read—Duren Sutra!

To save others, one must first save oneself. Now, having been enlightened by the immortal book, Xu Qing had seen through the illusions of his past life. The immortal book, after its assessment, gave him a "Human" rating.

According to the information in his mind, Xu Qing learned that the Duren Sutra's evaluation standards were divided into three tiers: Heaven, Earth, and Human, each with upper, middle, and lower grades.

He belonged to the lower grade of the Human tier.

Although Xu Qing felt somewhat offended, after carefully reviewing his life, he found the evaluation to be remarkably accurate.

He had indeed been an unremarkable person in his previous life.

However, the earth does not grow nameless grass, nor does heaven produce useless people.

Even with a lower Human-tier rating, there were still merits to be found.

When Xu Qing came back to his senses, the Duren Sutra had already presented its corresponding reward.

It was a blessed spiritual light that could be used directly. Those who received its enlightenment could dispel the impurities in their hearts and rekindle their will to live.

Xu Qing had been unfulfilled in life and was later ambushed by a sorcerer, turning him into a zombie. It was inevitable that resentment would accumulate in his heart, a common affliction of demons and strange entities, beyond his control.

This spiritual light now seemed like a perfect remedy, arriving just in time.

Upon receiving the reward, Xu Qing could not hide his joy, and even much of his resentment dissipated.

Although his luck had been poor and he could not rest in peace even after death, he had, in a way, 'lived' on. Now, with the immortal book choosing a master and a cheat system by his side, his future held some promise.

Without hesitation, Xu Qing decisively chose to accept the spiritual light's baptism.

The next moment, the Duren Sutra slowly unfurled, and a purification character leaped out, transforming into wisps of spiritual light that seeped into his body.

The gentle spiritual light was like a spring breeze caressing willow branches, instantly dispelling the technique the corpse driver had placed on him, allowing him to regain control of his body.

"Hiss—"

A hoarse groan emanated from Xu Qing's throat, like parched earth receiving sweet rain. He had never felt such comfort.

Above the mill, the moon shone brightly, dotted with stars. Bathed in the spiritual light and moonlight, Xu Qing, having rekindled his will to live, began to ponder his future livelihood.

Firstly, working was out of the question. He had toiled day and night when he was alive, but now that he was a zombie, he would absolutely not choose to continue working here, especially for free corpse labor.

However, the thought of escaping this place made Xu Qing hesitate again.

This world was far from peaceful. From the memory of the black-market corpse driver who refined him to the unscrupulous zombie mill before him, he could glimpse the reality.

Perhaps the outside world was even more dangerous. Perhaps zombies were at the very bottom of the food chain here, and escaping would be like jumping from the tiger's mouth into the wolf's den.

Fortunately, Xu Qing was not someone who shied away from problems.

Since he had encountered a problem, he would seek a solution. His current worries were nothing more than the unfamiliar environment outside and his own peculiar zombie identity.

Was there a way to help him understand this world, or perhaps enhance his own abilities?

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck Xu Qing, and he turned his gaze towards his kind who were grinding beans nearby—a zombie engrossed in its work.