Even after seeing the divine banner return to normal, Old Man He remained grave. After a moment's thought, he barked, "We shouldn't linger here. Pack up at once. We're moving somewhere else."
He Tie and the others had always followed his lead, so they hurried to pack without hesitation.
In their haste to leave, they left behind some belongings they had no time to take and simply abandoned them.
Saving their lives came first.
A crescent moon hung in the night sky, its pale, elegant light shining on a corpse monster as it slowly emerged from the secluded valley.
The wind stirred the red hair covering its body, making it ripple like wild grass.
Chen Jin had made a show of frightening the living for a simple reason: his cultivation was at a critical juncture, and he did not want outsiders disturbing him.
These people had camped on the hillside and might linger. If they started blundering about everywhere, that would be trouble.
It seemed they were alert enough. At the slightest rustle of wind in the grass, they had noticed something amiss and chosen to retreat.
That was precisely where the mountain trekkers' seasoned experience showed.
Walking up the hillside, he spotted a pointed bamboo-leaf hat lying amid the mess. Its brim was already worn.
Perhaps that was why it had been left behind.
Chen Jin did not mind. He picked it up, put it straight on his head, and tied the cord beneath his chin.
He had a hat now. Unfortunately, there were no clothes.
That made sense. Clothes were valuable to ordinary households. Even old garments were kept and cut into cloth for mending, patching, and the like.
Chen Jin wanted a set of clothes.
Once he opened all twelve primary meridians and shed his corpse skin, the burial shroud he wore would no longer be suitable.
The burial shroud's cut was truly distinctive, and conspicuous too. Anyone who saw it would know what it was.
For now, though, he had no choice but to keep wearing it.
Soon, he returned to the secluded valley, climbed the tree back to his nest, and resumed cultivating.
Time would not wait for him. He had to fight for every morning and evening.
After all, once one group had explored this far, a second would follow, then a third...
Over these past few days of Qi refinement, Chen Jin had successfully connected and opened the Three Yang Meridians of the Foot. Only the Three Yin Meridians of the Foot remained.
His mountain stood nine fathoms high, lacking only the final basket of earth.
The Three Yin Meridians of the Foot comprised the foot greater yin spleen meridian, the foot absolute yin liver meridian, and the foot triple yin kidney meridian. They governed postnatal yin earth, blood storage, the regulation of flow, and so forth.
The foot triple yin kidney meridian was especially important, as it concerned kidney essence and primordial water, the foundation of primordial Qi.
The "tiger" in the Dragon-Tiger Inner Treasury Mysterious Scripture represented kidney water.
In other words, unless the Three Yin Meridians of the Foot were opened, this tiger would struggle to rise and could not take shape.
Yet upon reaching this stage, Chen Jin encountered an obstacle in his cultivation.
The factors involved were complex, but the central issue was that far too much yin baleful corpse Qi had settled and accumulated inside him. Like thick sludge, it had blocked those meridians completely.
Under such circumstances, grinding away at it bit by bit through Qi refinement alone would take a very long time.
Ultimately, the yang fire converted from the purple Qi he absorbed from the rising sun was still not pure enough.
He therefore needed to think of a better way to solve this problem.
The Yan Household Great Stronghold.
One Yan Household disciple after another hurried about, their faces clouded with worry.
The Yan Household had recently encountered an exceptionally thorny problem. Stronghold chief Yan Laojiu was helpless, and even Granduncle could devise no solution.
The problem lay at Corpse-Nurturing Cliff.
A great demon was making trouble, spraying water onto the cliff from time to time.
Whether this snake demon was venting its anger or simply too fond of playing, no one knew. Either way, it never stopped.
This was no ordinary water. It could turn into enormous waves that slammed heavily against the cliff face with thunderous crashes.
With that happening, how could they possibly place hanging coffins there?
Even the arcane formation they had laid out had been broken by the floodwaters and lost its protective function.
Without Corpse-Nurturing Cliff, their many zombies had nowhere to nurture their corpse nature. The consequences were extremely serious.
Yan Laojiu was frantic, so anxious that blisters had formed on his lips. He wrote a letter and dispatched someone to deliver it urgently to the Zhongnan Sword Sect Lower Court, to see whether Holy Maiden Yan Hui had a way to resolve the matter.
But the two places were far apart. Who knew how much time the journey there and back would cost?
"It seems this old man must make a trip."
Granduncle's aged voice came from within the enormous black coffin.
Yan Laojiu froze. "Granduncle, where are you going?"
"The Nameless Temple."
"Ah, well..."
"Enough of your hemming and hawing. Given the present circumstances, the time is right."
"Very well. I'll go make preparations."
An hour later, several Yan Household disciples escorted a small black sedan chair quietly out through the stronghold's rear gate.
Leading them was none other than Yan Laojiu.
The party followed a secluded, twisting trail, silent throughout the journey. It made for an exceedingly eerie sight.
They crossed mountains and rivers before finally arriving at the foot of a steep peak.
The peak resembled an upright writing brush, with jagged rocks rising high and Green Pine Welcomes Guests. A stone-stepped mountain path had been cut into it.
Without resting, they carried the small sedan chair straight up, finally arriving before the door of a thatched cottage halfway up the mountain.
This was the Nameless Temple.
An old Daoist lived within. He likewise had no Daoist title by which he was known, but he was the very expert who had surveyed the Yan Household's feng shui and guided them in yin and yang many years before.
The old Daoist's origins were mysterious, and his cultivation was unfathomable. It was precisely because he had shown them the way through their confusion that the Yan Household had developed rapidly, overtaken those ahead of them, and firmly surpassed the Chen Household, the Sun Household, and the Wu Household.
The Yan Household naturally ought to have treated such a figure as an honored guest.
Yet the old Daoist wanted nothing. He had merely built a cottage on the mountain and lived there in seclusion, seldom venturing out and receiving no visitors.
Had they not encountered an obstacle they could not resolve this time, Granduncle would not have rashly come to disturb him.
It was late in the evening, and the sun had sunk behind the western mountains.
Leaning on a walking stick, Granduncle emerged shakily from the sedan chair. His hair was white, his face covered in age spots. He was already very old.
So old that a gust of wind seemed capable of blowing him over.
Yet now, he refused anyone's support and walked inside step by step.
Yan Laojiu and the others remained outside, standing with their hands at their sides in utmost respect.
An oil lamp burned inside the cottage.
Looking at that lamplight, Granduncle spontaneously felt something profound and mysterious, as though this lamp would never go out.
He remembered that three years ago... no, it seemed to have been ten years ago, the lamp had been burning just like this.
The same position, the same light, without the slightest difference.
An old Daoist sat beneath the lamp, his appearance withered, looking as though he already had one foot in the grave.
But he had looked this way many years ago.
"What brings you here?"
The old Daoist spoke in an indifferent tone.
Granduncle hurried forward to pay his respects. Not daring to offer even a word of pleasantry, he directly recounted the entire affair from beginning to end, exactly as it had happened.
The old Daoist's eyes flashed. "No wonder a sudden premonition stirred within me. So heaven's mysteries have evolved and brought forth a variable. How delightful!"
Granduncle stood stunned, unable to understand what this meant and unsure how to ask.
The old Daoist glanced at him and remarked, "Dry bones in a tomb. Conduct yourself well. I am off!"
With that, he rose to his full height and strode toward the door. As he crossed the threshold, he suddenly fell to the ground and vanished.
Granduncle was startled and hurried over, only to find no one on the ground. All that remained was an old Daoist robe.
"Th-this is ascension through corpse liberation?"
Granduncle stood as dumb as a wooden chicken.
Then the wind came, scattering the Daoist robe on the ground and turning it to ash. Another gust blew, and the thatched cottage vanished, the lamplight extinguished.
Everything was like an illusion, existing no more.