Chapter Ninety: The Corpse King Ying Gou

Seeing this, Weiyang gathered strength beneath her feet. She leapt into the air, soaring forward, forming a hand seal as a crimson wave of energy swept forth with a thunderous roar. The zombies that had crawled ashore were blasted back, all tumbling into the water.

Atop the altar, I did not see Ma Zhenlei. Where I had once fought him, only a severed arm lay amidst the ruins. Approaching it, I took a closer look and discovered it was indeed Ma Zhenlei’s arm.

At that moment, Weiyang also walked over. She examined the wound on the broken arm and said, “This was bitten off by the Corpse King!”

Ma Zhenlei had sought to control the Corpse King using the Maoshan art of corpse-raising, but unexpectedly, he was bitten back, losing an arm to the Corpse King—a fitting retribution for his deeds.

However, now that the Nine-Dragon Suppression Array had been broken, and zombies were crawling ashore, they threatened to slaughter the living and cause a tragedy. This must not be allowed to happen.

Yet, among us, none but Granny Wang knew the arts to restrain zombies. And since Granny Wang had become a spirit, she could no longer wield her magic. Helpless, Weiyang and I could do nothing but fight directly—whenever a zombie crawled up, we would join forces to knock it back into the water.

The zombies were immortal; even when split in two, they would not relent, continually climbing upwards. Beneath the water’s surface, countless heads pressed together, their numbers growing ever greater.

Eventually, along the banks of the White River, for over ten miles, zombies were crawling up everywhere. Wherever we blocked, another spot would be left unguarded—it was impossible to attend to every place at once.

Fortunately, Lady Bai and Niu Dahuang, leading three thousand followers of the Ghost Dao, returned to help after ensuring the townspeople and children were safely settled.

Still, none of us had an effective method against the zombies, and we were all locked in bitter combat.

With the Nine-Dragon Suppression Array destroyed, it could not be restored in the short term.

Niu Dahuang had some talismans from Daoist Li, which could restrain the zombies somewhat. Yet, the talismans were few, and soon enough, all the yellow charms were spent.

Additionally, the grains and glutinous rice—known to ward off evil—had all been scattered.

A few zombies had indeed been destroyed, but against such overwhelming numbers, the deaths of ten or so were mere drops in the ocean.

Near the collapsed White Bridge, the zombies were thickest.

I was tasked with guarding this area, but the zombies had no consciousness, no fear. Each time I repelled them, they surged back ever more frenziedly. If this continued, I could not imagine when it would end.

Strike down one horde, another followed. It seemed utterly hopeless.

Just then, as I prepared to act again, suddenly a yellow talisman flew from behind me, erupting with a brilliant golden light that drove back a great mass of zombies.

I turned around.

A Daoist strode forth from the street, and from his silhouette alone, I immediately recognized him—it was Daoist Li. Moreover, he was not in a spirit state; he had returned to his body. Originally, my grandfather and he had escaped by feigning death; by appearing now, wasn’t he revealing his resurrection?

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“Senior Li, you’re here!” I called out, truthfully quite moved. Daoist Li was highly skilled, masterful in arts that subdue evil. Against zombies, he surely had unique methods—the yellow talisman and the golden light that repelled so many proved it.

Daoist Li approached swiftly and said, “Lin Yi, your grandfather foresaw that you would face a calamity. But it seems you have already survived it.”

“Yes, it was the Peddler’s Pole that saved me,” I replied. If not for him, the Underworld’s Magistrate Qin Zhong would never have spared me.

“You entered the Underworld?” Daoist Li asked.

“Yes!” I replied.

“It makes sense. In the Underworld, only he could rescue you.” Daoist Li said, then unleashed another talisman, repelling a large group of zombies. He continued, “Beneath the White River lie nine thousand sunken corpses. As long as the Corpse King does not awaken, these corpses remain dormant. Now, to control them, there is only one way—subdue the Corpse King!”

Even Ma Zhenlei’s arm had been bitten off by the Corpse King. I sighed, “That may be true, but subduing the Corpse King is surely not easy.”

“It may be difficult for others, but you can do it. I’ll hold this place for you. Go find the Corpse King and subdue him—then all will be resolved!” Daoist Li declared. From his tone, it seemed as if subduing the Corpse King was as simple as lifting a hand.

But I did not know how to use corpse-suppressing talismans, nor Maoshan’s arts of corpse-raising. Barehanded, I had no idea how to begin, so I asked Daoist Li.

Daoist Li said he did not know either, only that my grandfather had told him the Corpse King of White Bridge Town could only be subdued by me. Perhaps it was a matter of one thing restraining another—when the time came, the truth would reveal itself.

I could not refute him; there was no other way.

Daoist Li’s magic could suppress the zombies, but with nine thousand beneath the White River, it would be impossible for him alone to restrain them all.

So I did not dwell on it. Perhaps my grandfather knew something. I entrusted this place to Daoist Li, but now the Corpse King had already left the river, and I did not know where he was.

Daoist Li said it was not difficult—the Corpse King was summoning the sunken corpses, which was why they were crawling ashore. So if we let one zombie go, I could follow it to find the Corpse King.

It was a good plan. As Daoist Li held off the zombies, he let one escape. That zombie headed toward the town.

I followed it, passing through the array and into the hills behind White Bridge Town.

The zombie darted through the woods, moving quickly. I followed, and soon reached a grove where corpse energy thickened oppressively, making it hard to breathe. I took a deep breath, steadied my mind, and saw the zombie kneel and start to kowtow.

Where it bowed, there stood a towering stone stele.

From a distance, the stele resembled the wordless monument on Old Grave Hill in our village.

I tread softly, holding my breath as I approached. There, beneath the wordless stele, stood a man in bronze armor, his back to me.

Was this the Corpse King?

I was surprised; he was not what I had expected.

I became cautious, clenched my fists, ready to fight at a moment’s notice. But as I drew closer, he suddenly turned.

His face was greenish, veins bulging, eyes blood-red, yet his imposing presence was undiminished. When he saw me, he was startled for a moment, and something strange flickered in his gaze.

Suddenly, he knelt before me.

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“Your humble servant Ying Gou greets the Master!”

He moved, and I was ready to strike, but unexpectedly, he knelt before me. I had not imagined a zombie could speak, let alone say such words—this astonished me even more than when Lady Bai had knelt and uttered those words to me.

“What do you mean?” I asked, too surprised to understand what was happening.

“Master, I am the humble servant Ying Gou, greeting the Master!” He bowed deeply, refusing to rise.

Seeing this, I said, “You... Please stand and speak, no need for formality!”

In my astonishment, I realized why Daoist Li was so confident in letting me deal with the Corpse King—he too was a follower of the Ghost Dao.

Ying Gou the Corpse King stood, thanked me, then walked to the stele and turned to ask, “Master, do you remember this monument?”

The stele bore no inscription, identical to the wordless monument on Old Grave Hill.

But in my memory, apart from the one on Old Grave Hill and the one on the ancient tomb island beneath Yunmeng’s Thirteen Streams, there were no others.

I shook my head slightly.

Ying Gou said, “Master, you truly have forgotten. But when you departed years ago, you instructed me: if ever I saw you again, I must bring you here, no matter what.”

“Why?” I asked.

“You did not say at the time,” Ying Gou replied.

Since Ying Gou called me Master, he was indeed a follower of the Ghost Dao. It seemed unbelievable, but the facts were plain.

Now, with zombies crawling ashore along the White River, all were fighting desperately—was this not fratricidal? I walked to the wordless stele, turned to Ying Gou, and said, “General Ying Gou, on both banks of the White River, above and below, all are Ghost Dao followers. There must be no slaughter among ourselves!”

Ying Gou clasped his hands and replied, “Before you arrived, Master, my nine thousand zombies had already withdrawn beneath the river. Please rest assured. Also, the one who harmed you—I managed to sever his arm, but he escaped by cunning. Forgive my failure!”

Ma Zhenlei was formidable, having practiced forbidden Maoshan arts. He was hard to deal with—I had died at his hands, and if not for the Peddler’s Pole, would have lost my life. So Ying Gou’s feat of severing his arm was no small task.

I asked Ying Gou to rise, then looked at the wordless stele.

The Ghost Dao Master’s instructions to bring me here must have had a reason, though I did not know what.

Thinking, I raised my hand to touch the stele.

As my fingers brushed the stone, a surge of energy flowed from my fingertips into the monument. Instantly, a fierce wind swept through the mountain gorge.

The sky changed, clouds roiled, lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and purple clouds churned—a celestial omen had appeared.