Ground-Lying Fist

There were rumors among the people that cats were yin by nature. Since cats had nine lives, once a cat—especially a black cat—came into contact with a corpse, the corpse could borrow one of the cat's lives and be reborn.

However, because it borrowed a cat's life rather than a human life, the corpse would become like a cat instead of a human. This was known as Corpse Transformation.

What Wen Qingkong encountered last night was a Corpse Transformation produced in precisely this way.

All along, at the Caishikou Execution Grounds under the Ministry of Justice, Zhang Quan and the Yamen Runners responsible for guarding corpses had taken strict precautions to prevent animals such as cats from coming into contact with them.

Yet last night and tonight, the corpses had both been touched by cats.

What did that mean?

If last night had been an accident, did tonight mean someone had deliberately done this?

And judging by the small clump of black cat fur on this man's chest, he had definitely been in contact with a black cat for quite some time!

There was an extremely high chance that this corpse would undergo Corpse Transformation.

Originally, because of what the One-Eyed Corpse Seamster had said that morning, Wen Qingkong had thought the Corpse Transformation he encountered last night might have been an accident. But now, it seemed highly likely that someone was pulling strings behind the scenes.

That person was most likely Zhang Quan.

Wen Qingkong entered the One-Eyed Corpse Seamster's side room. The room was a complete mess, filled with a foul stench.

The One-Eyed Corpse Seamster probably had never bathed in his life. Even his pillow had turned stiff and black.

Wen Qingkong swept his gaze around and found a coil of rope.

He had never learned any Daoist techniques. He simply used the rope to tie up the corpse.

This corpse had two places that needed stitching. One was the tattooed thigh, while the other was the chest, where the heart had been pierced through by a sword.

Wen Qingkong estimated that, at his speed, he only needed around two cups of tea to sew the corpse back together.

The rope should hold. If this man still underwent Corpse Transformation afterward, then he could only physically destroy the corpse himself.

After tying it up, Wen Qingkong relit the Three Incense Sticks and murmured, "Sewing you up is to leave you with an intact corpse. Sewing you up also stitches together your three souls and seven spirits. If your soul is here, listen to me. Behave yourself. In two cups of tea, I'll return your whole corpse to you."

As soon as his words fell, Wen Qingkong moved the needle with lightning speed, his gaze blazing as he rapidly threaded and stitched.

Suddenly, Wen Qingkong's pupils contracted. Black fur began growing rapidly from the corpse's chest, each strand standing straight like a steel needle!

"Is it still going to undergo Corpse Transformation?"

Wen Qingkong's hands did not stop. He swiftly stitched up the sword wound over the heart, then moved to sew the severed leg.

Based on last night's experience, the corpse should have been covered in cat fur by now, and the Corpse Transformation should already have occurred.

Yet the corpse's black fur remained confined to its chest. Its skin pulsed, while beneath it, countless black dots seemed like blades of grass about to break through the soil.

Wen Qingkong found it strange, but his hands moved even faster.

After one cup of tea, the severed leg had been stitched back on, perfectly connected, without the slightest visible trace of the stitching.

At the instant the sewing was complete, the black fur on the chest scattered like ashes, and the dense black dots beneath the skin vanished as well.

Did human souls truly exist?

Had this corpse's soul heard his words just now, thus suppressing the speed of the Corpse Transformation?

Before he had time to think, the corpse's Life's Flashback had already appeared in his mind.

The corpse was named Zhao Liu. By the time he could remember anything, his parents were already gone. He had grown up eating from countless households, mingling among hooligans, scoundrels, and beggars.

When he was seven, he happened to save an old man and was taught Ground-Lying Fist.

Ground-Lying Fist specialized in attacking the lower body, its moves tricky and vicious.

Zhao Liu trained diligently day and night. After guiding him until he had mastered the art, the old man drifted away.

Afterward, Zhao Liu gradually made a name for himself among Yujing City's hooligans and scoundrels. A group of followers gathered around him, and he founded the so-called Black Dragon Gang, collecting protection fees, guarding venues, running gambling dens, and opening brothels.

Zhao Liu fought and gambled with his life. His Ground-Lying Fist improved rapidly in real combat, while the Black Dragon Gang's territory expanded just as quickly.

Unfortunately, Zhao Liu did not understand how to deal with officials, nor did he know how to seek the patronage of someone like Prince Jiu, as that bandit had done.

When the Black Dragon Gang was expanding at its fastest, Cui Xingwen, Prince Jiu's trusted adviser, had personally come to invite him to work for Prince Jiu. Zhao Liu had refused.

He hated high officials and nobles most of all. How could he become Prince Jiu's lapdog?

A true man relied on his own fists!

He firmly believed that his fists were his power!

Unfortunately, Zhao Liu overestimated himself and underestimated the authorities.

Cui Xingwen's cold sneer as he departed had remained etched in Zhao Liu's mind.

After that, in a single night, both the underworld and the authorities joined forces against the Black Dragon Gang. The gang was steadily driven back, and there were even more than ten Innate Experts among their enemies. How could Zhao Liu possibly be a match for them?

Thus, it rose in splendor and perished in an instant.

The Black Dragon Gang was destroyed overnight, and Zhao Liu was publicly beheaded at the Caishikou Execution Grounds by official decree.

"Black cannot survive alone in this world. Only gray can endure forever."

Host has acquired Ground-Lying Fist

As the mechanical voice sounded, Wen Qingkong acquired another fist technique.

He arranged Zhao Liu's corpse properly, then leaped into the air. Just as he was about to leave, he flicked a pebble and woke the One-Eyed Corpse Seamster.

After waking, the One-Eyed Corpse Seamster looked at the three corpses that had already been stitched up, then at the fine stitch marks so delicate they were nearly invisible. Cold sweat immediately broke out across his forehead.

How could this be?

Who had helped him sew up the three corpses?

The moment the One-Eyed Corpse Seamster saw these three corpses tonight, he knew he was doomed.

He had not intended to stay alive anyway. With his right arm gone, how could he sew with his left?

Even if he escaped today, could he possibly keep escaping every day?

He had always been hot-tempered. Zhang Quan cutting off one of his arms today was a hatred as great as the heavens!

This grudge had to be repaid!

He had originally planned to fight Zhang Quan to the death when Zhang Quan came to collect the corpses in the morning. He never expected the corpses to have already been sewn up.

Did he still need to risk his life for revenge?

The One-Eyed Corpse Seamster's remaining eye flickered.

Wen Qingkong did not know what the One-Eyed Corpse Seamster was thinking. He returned to Corpse Seamstress House Number Nine and energetically practiced Taizu Long Fist and Ground-Lying Fist.

This trip had been worth it!

Although Taizu Long Fist and Ground-Lying Fist were not especially profound martial arts, the bandit and Zhao Liu had practiced them to extraordinary mastery, to the point where they had nearly become instinct. Now, all of their understanding of the two fist techniques had merged into Wen Qingkong's body, greatly increasing his combat strength.

After practicing, Wen Qingkong went to bed.

Time flashed by, and in the blink of an eye, it was the fifth quarter of the hour of the Rabbit. Dawn was just beginning to brighten.

Footsteps sounded outside.

Wen Qingkong opened his eyes. The footsteps stopped before Corpse Seamstress Workshop Number Six.

"Cai, have you finished stitching them up?"

It was Zhang Quan's voice, filled with malice and smugness.

Wen Qingkong had already helped the One-Eyed Corpse Seamster, so he naturally was not worried about the stitching.

But in the next instant, a scream rang out.

It was accompanied by Zhang Quan's startled cry.

"Cai, you dare kill me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I'll slaughter you!"

"Ah!"

The final cry came from the One-Eyed Corpse Seamster.

Wen Qingkong quickly ran to the second floor and reached the narrow window, looking toward Corpse Seamstress Workshop Number Six.

Zhang Quan was clutching his left hand and howling without cease. The One-Eyed Corpse Seamster had collapsed at the doorway, while a sharp knife rolled across the ground from his hand.

His single remaining eye burned with fury, like rising flames.

At the horizon, the red sun rose.