The Fox Borrowed the Tiger's Might

Qian Laosan's vision went dark.

The fanatics of the Earth-Fire Cult had been beheaded before he and his brothers had made anything of themselves.

The brothers had squeezed into the crowd and watched the cultists receive their lawful punishment. Daoists had taken turns dispelling their baleful energy, officials had disfigured them, black dog's blood had been poured over them before the executions, and rooster blood had been dabbed on their bodies afterward to mark them.

Their corpses had then been left out in the sun for all to see.

For bodies beheaded by the authorities, especially in cases involving such supernatural horrors, stitching them back together was out of the question.

The authorities would not even allow anyone to collect them.

The heads had to hang from the city walls, the bodies displayed on bamboo poles.

They stayed there until they had rotted beyond recognition.

Until the day finally came when they were supposed to be taken down.

Only then would someone find a spot,

and bury them without ceremony!

As it happened, Qian Laosan and his four brothers had earned their living through hard labor back then.

So the job of burying those rotting corpses had fallen to them.

They had planned to dump the bodies in a mass grave and let wild wolves or stray dogs eat them. The world had not yet become what it was now, with ghosts appearing in broad daylight and wolves and dogs eating people on the roads.

At the thought,

Qian Laosan's face twisted further. He remembered that night.

The bodies, already rotted beyond recognition, had somehow "come alive."

"Leave us near Third Grandpa Temple, and we'll give you a reward beyond your wildest dreams."

"You'll never want for food or drink again. Ten thousand taels of gold!"

That memory from years