The boundless dusk closed in from all directions, pressing heavily upon this small hilltop. An endless sea of clouds, like surging black waves, stretched far into the distance, intertwining with the remnants of the sunset, burning everything into ashes.
A gust of wind swept through, startling a sky full of crows.
In the courtyard of Bai Erlai’s house, the wooden gate creaked back and forth in the evening breeze, slamming against the walls with a loud clatter.
The entire courtyard had already been covered with a thick layer of aged sticky rice—rice that had been stored for more than three years. In an era still recovering from natural disasters, such a luxury was almost unthinkable. Some villagers voiced their discontent, but Zhang Enpu had his own reasoning. He insisted that this zombie had become a malevolent spirit, having consumed the blood of many people and grown far more powerful than before. If it wasn’t destroyed now, both villages would be doomed.
After listening to Zhang Enpu’s explanation, the village heads, Tian and Zhao, conferred briefly. Seeing how dignified and experienced the old Taoist priest appeared—far more credible than the usual charlatans—they decided to give it a try. “We’ve got no other choice,” they sighed. “We’ll treat this like a last-ditch effort.” And so, gritting their teeth, they agreed to Zhang Enpu’s request. These large sacks of sticky rice had been painstakingly gathered through their house-to-house efforts.
Zhang Enpu’s second request was for four strong villagers to serve as assistants. Knowing the zombie’s strength firsthand, Zhao Village Head selected four tall, muscular young men and even offered the village’s only two hunters. More hands were better than fewer, so Zhang Enpu gladly accepted. Now, the two veteran hunters lay quietly on the roof of Bai Erlai’s house, wrapped tightly in thick cotton coats, silent and motionless. Their hands gripped tightly onto their hunting rifles—polished with pork oil until they gleamed—and their eyes were narrowed into slits, waiting for the target to appear.
A closer look would reveal that behind several haystacks around the courtyard, four young men crouched silently. Bai Erlai was among them. Not only had he offered his own courtyard for this mission, but he had also volunteered himself. Bai was a man of simple principles, straightforward and determined to eliminate this plague from the village. His two adopted daughters—orphans left behind by widowed mothers—had been temporarily placed in the care of a friendly villager. As he glanced at the men around him, Bai tightened his bamboo pole and silently vowed, *This time, I’ll avenge those widows and smash that damned zombie to pieces.*
Of course, another person shared the same burning desire—Wang Weizhen, also known as “Half Immortal” Wang, the old lover of Grandma Fan. Wang wore a gray Taoist robe, with two peach-wood swords strapped across his back in an X-shape and a belt full of talismans around his waist. Fully armed, he stood ready for battle. Wang knew his own limits well, but he had convinced Zhang Enpu to let him stay, reasoning that even if he was a self-taught Taoist, he was still better than any ordinary farmer. Truth be told, Wang was not a brave man—he was actually quite timid. Yet now, his eyes burned red with fury. In his heart, there was only one word: *Revenge. Revenge. Revenge.*
The small courtyard was filled with hidden danger. The entire village of Xiushan was unusually quiet—so quiet that even the sound of a pin dropping could be heard clearly. The villagers had obediently retreated into their homes, locking doors, bolting windows, and trembling in fear on their kang beds. This pleased Zhang Enpu greatly, for in his view, not interfering was the best kind of cooperation.
Village Heads Tian and Zhao, along with Tian Guoqiang, had been gently persuaded by Zhang Enpu to move to a neighboring house under the pretense of “battlefield command,” supposedly for their own safety during the fight.
Outside the courtyard, basins of animal blood had been scattered about, emitting a strong, pungent stench. With this bait, Zhang Enpu was confident the vampire would come.
“Master Taoist, do you really think it will come?” Liu Dashao muttered inside the house, glancing out the window. Midnight was approaching, and the air had grown noticeably colder. He quickly donned a robe and sat beside Zhang Enpu, who smiled gently. A gust of night wind blew in, gently swaying his white beard, occasionally brushing against Liu Dashao’s cheek.
“Once a demon has fixed its target, it will stop at nothing to achieve it. Unlike humans, it won’t use intelligence or retreat when faced with danger. You must either kill it or use Taoist magic to create a false goal to distract it. Ordinary zombies have no intelligence—they simply attack anyone with yang energy based on smell. I believe this vampire has absorbed so much human blood that it has become a Vampire King. But as long as we are well-prepared and have enough people, I have the means to deal with it,” Zhang Enpu said confidently.
The boundless twilight closed in from all directions, pressing heavily upon the small hill. The endless sea of clouds surged like black waves, stretching into the distance, intertwining with the remnants of the sunset, burning into ashes.
A gust of wind swept through, startling a flock of crows into the sky.
The courtyard of Bai Erlazi’s compound was square and sturdy, with two wooden gates swaying in the evening breeze, slapping against the walls with loud thuds.
The entire courtyard had been covered with a thick layer of glutinous rice, all of it aged for over three years—a luxury in those days just after a natural disaster. Some people were displeased, but Zhang Enpu had his own explanation for the skepticism. He claimed that the zombie had become a demonic entity, having consumed the blood of many, and its power had grown significantly. If it wasn’t destroyed now, both villages would be doomed. After hearing Zhang Enpu’s explanation, Village Chief Tian and Village Chief Zhao discussed it and decided that the old Taoist seemed quite capable, at least more reliable than the usual charlatans. They thought, “Let’s try this as a last resort. If he fails, we’re truly out of options.” They gritted their teeth and agreed to Zhang Enpu’s demands, and the large sacks of glutinous rice were the result of their tireless efforts to gather them from every household.
Zhang Enpu’s second demand was for the village to provide him with four strong helpers. Village Chief Zhao, well aware of the zombie’s capabilities, not only selected four burly young men for Zhang Enpu but also handed over the village’s only two hunters. More hands were better, and Zhang Enpu gladly accepted. Now, the two old hunters lay quietly on the roof of Bai Erlazi’s house, huddled in their thick cotton coats, silent. Their hands tightly gripped the hunting rifles polished with lard, their eyes narrowed into slits, waiting for the target to appear.
Upon closer inspection, one would notice four young men crouching quietly behind the straw stacks around the courtyard. Bai Erlazi was among them. This time, he not only offered his courtyard but also joined the fight himself. Bai Erlazi was a straightforward man, determined to rid the village of this menace. His two adopted widowed daughters had been temporarily placed in the care of a fellow villager. Looking around at the men, Bai Erlazi tightened his grip on the bamboo pole in his hand, silently vowing to avenge the widows and crush that damned zombie.
Of course, there was another person with the same determination—Wang Weizhen, also known as Old Lady Fan’s former lover, Wang the Half-Immortal. Dressed in a gray Taoist robe, he carried two peach wood swords crossed on his back and was adorned with talismans around his waist—truly fully armed. Wang Weizhen knew his own limitations, but he had convinced Zhang Enpu to let him stay, as he was, after all, a Taoist, albeit a self-taught one, and better than the average farmer. To be honest, Wang Weizhen wasn’t a brave man; in fact, he was quite timid. But at this moment, his eyes were bloodshot, burning with a single thought—revenge, revenge, revenge!
The small courtyard was filled with an air of impending danger. The entire Xiushan Village was eerily quiet, so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. The villagers had already retreated into their homes, locking their doors and shivering on their kang beds. This pleased Zhang Enpu, as he believed that not causing trouble was the best form of cooperation. Village Chief Tian, Village Chief Zhao, and Tian Guoqiang had been gently persuaded by Zhang Enpu to stay in the neighboring house, under the pretext of “wartime command.”
Outside the courtyard, basins of animal blood had been scattered, emitting a strong, foul stench. With this bait, Zhang Enpu was confident the drought demon would come.
“Old Taoist, will that thing really come?” Liu Dashao muttered doubtfully in the house, glancing out the window. The hour of Zi was approaching, and the temperature had dropped significantly. He quickly pulled out a cloth robe and sat close to Zhang Enpu, wrapping it around himself. Zhang Enpu smiled gently, his white beard swaying in the night breeze that seeped into the room, occasionally brushing against Liu Dashao’s cheek.
“Once a demon sets its sights on a target, it will stop at nothing to achieve it. Unlike humans, who use intelligence and know when to retreat, unless you kill it or use Taoist magic to create a false goal for it, it will never give up. Ordinary zombies have no intelligence; they only attack humans with yang energy based on scent. I am certain that this drought demon, having consumed so much human blood, has become a drought demon king. But with sufficient preparation and manpower, I have my own way to deal with it,” Zhang Enpu said confidently.
Liu Dashao nodded, acknowledging, and after rummaging through his backpack for a while, finally found a bamboo tube containing black dog blood and a stack of yellow talismans Zhang Enpu had hastily prepared in the past few days. These talismans had been placed in front of the ancestral incense burner for twelve hours, and while they couldn’t compare to the authentic ones from Longhu Mountain, they were better than nothing.
Thinking this, Liu Dashao handed the talismans to Zhang Enpu. Zhang Enpu nodded, took out a black compass from his bag, and pressed the stack of talismans under the corner of the table to prevent them from being blown away by the cold night wind. At this moment, the sound of loud snoring came from the roof—clearly, the two elite hunters had fallen asleep. Zhang Enpu couldn’t help but shake his head.
After the preparations were complete, Liu Dashao nestled close to Zhang Enpu and sat down again. The robe couldn’t quite cover both of them, so Zhang Enpu gently pulled it over Liu Dashao, covering his entire body, while half of his own arm was exposed. Liu Dashao didn’t mind, smiled, and then focused intently on the doors and windows, his ears twitching occasionally, listening for any movement outside. Zhang Enpu stared at the compass in silence, and after a while, his eyes slightly closed as he activated his yin-yang vision, entering a meditative state.
The mountain wind rustled the cypress trees in the village, and fallen leaves often drifted to the windows of the villagers’ houses, making crisp sounds. The village’s livestock had also quieted down, and occasionally, the sound of insects could be heard amidst the howling wind.
The hour of Zi was the time when yin and yang clashed, with yang resting and yin ruling the world. And as Zhang Enpu had predicted, the thing that was supposed to appear finally lost its patience.
Inside Bai Erlazi’s house, it was pitch black. The cold mountain wind swayed the courtyard fence, making it seem fragile yet never collapsing. Some leaves, carried by the wind, floated to Bai Erlazi’s doorstep, about to touch the window, but were blown away by an even stronger gust.
A dark figure stopped at the edge of the village, accompanied by a chilling breeze. It was a dark and windy night, and the figure gazed at the dim, pale moon for a while before letting out a soft “whoosh” and leaping into the air. After a few jumps, its eyes suddenly glowed with an eerie red light. The wind, at that moment, blew away the dark clouds, and under the light of the nearly full moon, the figure resembled the Black Impermanence from the underworld, come to claim lives.
Two large yellow dogs, having just mated and about to sleep, sniffed the air and then looked up at the sky. Trembling with fear, they quickly retreated into their kennel, emitting low whimpers. From the depths of the mountains came the howls of wild beasts.
Inside Bai Erlazi’s house, Liu Dashao was struggling to keep his eyes open, his head nodding down and then slowly lifting again. He was oblivious to the strange cries carried by the wind, as if they existed only in his dreams.
The yellow talismans on the table, pressed down by the compass, suddenly fluttered wildly, like birds desperate to escape their cage. The compass needle swung irregularly from side to side. Zhang Enpu, with a focused gaze, took in all these ominous signs.
“It’s here…” Zhang Enpu said softly, his expression serious. A peach wood sword slipped out from his sleeve, and he grabbed a few talismans, holding them tightly in his hand. He sat upright on the stool, silently adopting a defensive stance, waiting for the prey.
Liu Dashao was jolted awake by Zhang Enpu’s slight movement. He opened his bleary eyes and was about to ask if it was morning when he suddenly remembered that these were no longer leisurely times. He rubbed his eyes vigorously and asked nervously, “Old Taoist… is it here?”
Zhang Enpu nearly fell off his stool from Liu Dashao’s “cheerful” remark. The kid had just woken up and was completely unaware of the impending danger. If it weren’t for him, Liu Dashao would be like a lamb to the slaughter. Without answering Liu Dashao, he steadied himself and continued to listen intently to the sounds outside.
The night wind no longer seeped into the room, but the flame of the old oil lamp flickered unnaturally, as if pulled by some mysterious force. The shadows of the old and the young were cast askew by the fleeting flame.
Seeing this, Liu Dashao realized something was wrong. He quickly rummaged through his belongings, pulling out his backpack, ready to hand over whatever Zhang Enpu needed, while giving him an awkward, apologetic smile.
The wind outside had paused for half a moment before suddenly picking up again, much fiercer than before. The old wooden window began to creak and groan under the pressure. Inside, Zhang Enpu remained unfazed. He knew this was the demon’s way of issuing a warning—”mind your own business”—or perhaps, any evil entity would create eerie and terrifying sounds before attacking, to weaken human resolve.
But to Zhang Enpu, this was like being tickled by a strand of hair—it didn’t instill any fear, but rather amused him. It seemed the demon was quite wary of him. Only Liu Dashao, beside him, was slowly breaking into a cold sweat.
Having grown up in the mountains, Liu Dashao had seen his share of minor ghosts and spirits, but the malevolent aura emanating from the drought demon outside had already unnerved him. Now, with this added display of terror, it was a psychological challenge for Liu Dashao, who was experiencing such a “grand scene” for the first time. The fear persisted, and Liu Dashao couldn’t help but inch closer to Zhang Enpu, silently hoping for the ordeal to end soon.
By the straw stacks, Wang Weizhen’s small triangular eyes suddenly widened, gleaming with a sharp light. He glanced at the courtyard gate, where the wind howled, and cautiously shifted his feet, waking the four dozing men.
“What… what’s going on?” Bai Erlazi was dreaming of marrying a beautiful woman, about to enter the bridal chamber, when he was abruptly shaken awake, startling him.
“Shh!” Wang Weizhen signaled to him and made a silencing gesture to the others, pointing his index finger stealthily toward the gate.
Bai Erlazi immediately understood, covering his mouth with his hand and whispering, “Master Wang, is it the zombie…?”
Wang Weizhen nodded heavily. The four men’s hearts immediately felt like fifteen buckets being drawn from a well—seven up, eight down—and goosebumps covered their bodies, their hair standing on end. One of them, with weaker nerves, even started trembling at the elbows.
“Don’t panic. When that thing comes in, do exactly as I say. Don’t be careless,” Wang Weizhen instructed, glancing toward the inner room. Seeing Zhang Enpu and Liu Dashao’s figures already crouched by the window, he smiled slightly, moved his hand to his back, and with a slight bend of his spine, drew a peach wood sword smeared with black dog blood, holding it horizontally in front of him, ready to strike.
At that moment, the two wooden gates were suddenly sucked shut by the wind with a loud bang. Immediately after, a pungent smell of blood climbed over the high wall and seeped in. Although the men tried their best to cover their noses, they were still choked by the stench, and one of them even curled up on the ground like a shrimp, coughing violently. Wang Weizhen’s old face turned a deep purple, but he didn’t relax his vigilance in the slightest.
“It’s here, set up the formation!” Suddenly, Wang Weizhen roared like a tiger, flipping in mid-air. With his right hand forming a sword gesture, he flicked it behind him, and another peach wood sword immediately sprang from its sheath, flying straight toward the gate with a “whoosh.” At the same time, the two wooden gates collapsed, and a dark figure appeared at the entrance. The sword, guided by Wang Weizhen’s command, struck the figure’s abdomen with a “thud,” though it was unclear how deep the wound was. Wang Weizhen had no time to worry about that; he rolled to the southern edge of the glutinous rice field, brandishing the other peach wood sword in a flamboyant manner, and barked, “Deploy the corpse-binding ropes!”
“Let’s do it!”
“Let’s do it!” Led by Bai Erlazi, the four men jumped out from the straw stacks, each holding a large coil of hemp rope in their left hand and spinning the iron-hooked end like a windmill with their right, creating a whooshing sound, ready to ensnare the zombie.
“Ke ke…” The drought demon let out a sinister laugh, the sound leaking from its throat, eerie and echoing, as if needles were pricking the ears, extremely uncomfortable. Looking at its disheveled hair and the two fangs protruding from its pale face, the men who had been roaring like a mighty army instantly turned into cowards, no longer boasting or shouting, their legs trembling in place, teeth chattering. One of them, named Heishan, even knelt down, exclaiming, “Oh my god, this zombie is terrifying!” Seeing the long fangs, Heishan immediately recalled the villagers who had died and Li Fei’s corpse, silently praying, “Don’t bite me, don’t bite me.”
“Useless!” Wang Weizhen, seeing Heishan’s state, felt like dying. Damn it, Zhang Tianshi had thought of the formation, the setup, but hadn’t considered the villagers’ ability to withstand fear! There was no choice; at this critical moment, he had to rely on himself. Thinking this, Wang Weizhen spat twice into his palms, grabbed the peach wood sword, and swept it in a half-circle, scattering the glutinous rice on the ground toward the drought demon. The demon instinctively tried to dodge but stepped onto the glutinous rice-covered mud, immediately letting out a painful howl. White mist rose from its feet, and the rice near its feet turned into charcoal, filling the air with a burning smell. “Take this!” Wang Weizhen, not stopping, threw another handful of glutinous rice, this time hitting the demon squarely. Wang Weizhen laughed heartily, knowing that glutinous rice was the bane of zombies. Any zombie that touched glutinous rice would be rendered harmless. Although this zombie was fierce, with the entire courtyard covered in glutinous rice, it would surely be turned into a rice ball. Thinking this, Wang Weizhen couldn’t help but laugh, but his laughter was cut short. He realized that the drought demon was slowly hopping toward him, each step burning the glutinous rice into blackness, leaving a trail of black footprints behind it.
Damn it, Wang Weizhen’s head was spinning, completely spinning. Damn it, this thing is too fierce! So much glutinous rice couldn’t subdue it—is this even a zombie? But Wang Weizhen, having some experience, quickly calmed himself and gestured to Bai Erlazi, “Kid, what are you waiting for? Get to it!”
“Oh, oh, oh, get to it, get to it…” The men finally snapped out of it, positioning themselves at the four cardinal directions, spinning the ropes with a whooshing sound. Bai Erlazi took the lead, flicking his wrist to send the black iron hook flying, wrapping it around the demon’s waist. The hook’s weight caused it to spin several times around the demon before dropping. The others followed suit, and soon the demon was tied up like a meat dumpling. The four men exchanged glances, then pulled the ropes with all their might, tightening them until the demon was immobilized.
“Roar…” The drought demon let out a fierce cry, abandoning Wang Weizhen and lunging toward Bai Erlazi.
“Change formation, change formation!” Wang Weizhen, seeing the danger, quickly directed. Without needing his command, the four men, having been trained by Zhang Enpu, began to act. The initial fear gradually faded as they faced the life-and-death situation. Seeing the demon charge at Bai Erlazi, the two men on the opposite side of the rope increased their grip, hoisting the rope onto their shoulders and pulling with all their might, like oxen dragging a cart. Bai Erlazi and Heishan retreated several steps, tightening the already slack rope, once again immobilizing the demon.
As Liu Dashao handed the talismans to Zhang Enpu, the old Taoist nodded and took out a black compass from his bag, placing the talismans on the edge of the table to prevent them from being blown away by the cold night wind coming through the window. At that moment, loud snoring echoed from the roof—evidently, the two elite hunters had fallen asleep. Zhang Enpu shook his head slightly.
Once preparations were complete, Liu Dashao snuggled close to Zhang Enpu again. The outer robe barely covered both of them, so Zhang gently pulled it over Liu Dashao’s entire body, leaving his own arm exposed. Liu didn’t mind, smiled, and began closely watching the doors and windows, his ears twitching occasionally as he listened for the slightest sound outside. Zhang Enpu, meanwhile, silently stared at the compass. After a while, he closed his eyes slightly and activated his “Yin-Yang Eyes,” entering a meditative state.
Mountain winds rustled the trees in the village, sending leaves flying against the windows of villagers’ homes, producing faint clinking sounds. The domestic animals had grown quiet, occasionally letting out a few chirps mixed with the howling wind.
Midnight was the hour when yin and yang forces clashed most intensely. It was the moment when yang energy rested and yin energy reigned supreme. And just as Zhang Enpu had predicted, the creature finally lost its patience.
Inside Bai Erlai’s house, darkness reigned. Cold mountain winds shook the courtyard fence, making it seem fragile yet strangely intact. Some leaves, carried by the wind, drifted toward the window of Bai Erlai’s house but were blown away by a sudden gust.
A dark shadow stood at the edge of the village, accompanied by a chilling breeze. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, and the night was pitch black. The shadow gazed at the dim moonlight for a moment, then with a low “hoo,” it leapt into the air. Its eyes suddenly glowed with a sinister red. At that very moment, the wind blew away the clouds, revealing a half-moon that illuminated the figure like a Grim Reaper emerging from the underworld.
Two large yellow dogs, just finished mating and about to sleep, sniffed the air. They raised their heads and, upon seeing the figure, trembled in fear and quickly hid in their kennel, whimpering softly. From deep within the mountains came the eerie howls of wild beasts.
Inside Bai Erlai’s courtyard, Liu Dashao was beginning to struggle to keep his eyes open. His head bobbed down repeatedly, then slowly lifted again. He had no idea that the strange howl carried by the wind had already reached his ears—perhaps only in his dreams.
Suddenly, the yellow talismans on the table fluttered violently, like birds desperate to escape their cage. The compass needle also began to spin erratically. Zhang Enpu’s sharp eyes fixed on the compass, reading every ominous sign.
“It’s here…” Zhang Enpu said gravely, his long sleeve revealing a finely crafted peach-wood sword. He gripped several talismans tightly in his hand, sitting upright in a poised, defensive stance.
Liu Dashao was jolted awake by Zhang Enpu’s subtle movement. Still groggy, he opened his eyes and was about to ask if it was dawn, when he suddenly remembered this was no ordinary peaceful day. He rubbed his eyes hard and nervously asked, “Master Taoist… is it here?”
Zhang Enpu almost laughed out loud, nearly falling off his stool. This kid had just woken up, and the danger was already upon them, yet he hadn’t noticed a thing. Zhang sighed—*If I weren’t here, Liu Dashao would be like meat on a chopping block or a lamb before a tiger.* He didn’t answer Liu’s question but instead focused intently on the sounds outside.
Inside the room, the wind had stopped, but the flame of the old oil lamp flickered strangely, as if pulled by an invisible force. The shadows of the old and young man danced wildly on the walls.
Realizing something was wrong, Liu Dashao quickly rummaged through his gear, pulling out the necessary tools and handing them to Zhang Enpu. He gave him an awkward smile, half-apologetic.
The boundless twilight closed in from all directions, pressing heavily upon the small hill. The endless sea of clouds resembled surging black waves, stretching into the distance and intertwining with the remnants of the sunset, burning into ashes.
A gust of wind swept by, startling a flock of crows into the sky.
In the chaotic courtyard of Bai Erlazi’s house, the two wooden doors swayed back and forth in the evening breeze, slapping against the walls with loud thuds.
The entire courtyard had been covered with a thick layer of glutinous rice, all of which was aged for over three years. In the era just after a natural disaster, this was an extravagant luxury. Some people were displeased, but in the face of skepticism, Zhang Enpu had his own explanation: this zombie had become a demonic entity, having consumed the blood of many people, and its power had grown significantly. If it wasn’t destroyed now, both villages would be doomed. After hearing Zhang Enpu’s explanation, Village Chief Tian and Village Chief Zhao discussed it and decided that the old Taoist priest seemed quite capable, at least more reliable than the average charlatan. They thought, “Let’s try this as a last resort. If he fails, we’re truly out of options.” They gritted their teeth and agreed to Zhang Enpu’s demands, and the several large sacks of glutinous rice were the result of their tireless efforts to gather them from every household.
Zhang Enpu’s second demand was that the village provide him with four strong helpers. Village Chief Zhao, well aware of the zombie’s capabilities, not only selected four burly young men for Zhang Enpu but also handed over the village’s only two hunters. More people were better than fewer, and Zhang Enpu gladly accepted. Now, the two old hunters were quietly lying on the roof of Bai Erlazi’s house, bundled up in thick cotton coats, silent and motionless. Their hands tightly gripped the pig-oil-polished hunting rifles, their eyes narrowed into slits, waiting for the target to appear.
Upon closer inspection, one would notice that behind the straw stacks around the courtyard, four young men were crouching quietly, including Bai Erlazi himself. This time, he not only offered his courtyard but also joined the fight. Bai Erlazi was a straightforward man, determined to rid the village of this menace. His two adopted widowed daughters had been temporarily relocated to a villager’s house. Looking around at the men, Bai Erlazi tightened his grip on the bamboo pole in his hand, silently vowing to avenge the widows and crush that damn zombie.
Of course, there was another person with the same mindset—Wang Weizhen, also known as “Half-Immortal Wang,” the old lover of Granny Fan. Dressed in a gray Taoist robe, with two peach wood swords crossed on his back and his waist adorned with talismans, he was fully armed. Wang Weizhen knew his own limitations, but he still convinced Zhang Enpu to let him stay, as he was, after all, a Taoist priest—albeit a self-taught one—and better than the average farmer. Truth be told, Wang Weizhen wasn’t a brave man; in fact, he was quite timid. But at this moment, his eyes were bloodshot, burning with a single thought: revenge, revenge, revenge!
The small courtyard was filled with an air of impending danger. The entire Xiushan Village was eerily quiet, so quiet that the sound of a pin dropping could be heard clearly. The villagers had already retreated into their homes, locking their doors and barricading themselves inside, trembling on their kang beds. This pleased Zhang Enpu greatly, as he believed that not causing trouble was the best form of cooperation. Village Chief Tian, Village Chief Zhao, and Tian Guoqiang were politely persuaded by Zhang Enpu to move to the neighboring house, under the pretext of “wartime command.”
Outside the courtyard, basins of animal blood had been scattered, emitting a strong, pungent odor. With this bait, Zhang Enpu was confident the drought demon would come.
“Old Taoist, will that thing really come?” Liu Dashao muttered in the house, looking out the window. The hour of Zi was approaching, and the temperature had dropped significantly. He quickly pulled out a cloth robe and sat close to Zhang Enpu, wrapping himself in it. Zhang Enpu smiled gently, his white beard swaying in the night breeze that seeped into the room, occasionally brushing against Liu Dashao’s cheek.
“Once a demon sets its sights on a target, it will stop at nothing to achieve it. Unlike humans, who use intelligence and know when to retreat, demons will not relent unless you kill them or use Taoist methods to deceive them into thinking their goal has been achieved. Ordinary zombies have no intelligence and only attack humans with yang energy based on scent. I am certain that after consuming so much human blood, this drought demon has become a drought demon king. But with proper preparation and enough manpower, I have my own methods to deal with it,” Zhang Enpu said confidently.
Liu Dashao nodded, “Hmm,” and after rummaging through his backpack for a while, he finally found a bamboo tube filled with black dog blood and a stack of yellow talismans that Zhang Enpu had hastily prepared over the past few days. These talismans had been placed in front of the ancestral altar for twelve hours to absorb spiritual energy. Though they couldn’t compare to the authentic talismans from Longhu Mountain, they were better than nothing.
Thinking this, Liu Dashao handed the talismans to Zhang Enpu. Zhang Enpu nodded, pulled out a black compass from his bag, and placed the stack of talismans on the corner of the table to prevent them from being blown away by the cold night wind. At that moment, the sound of loud snoring came from the roof—clearly, the two elite hunters had fallen asleep. Zhang Enpu couldn’t help but shake his head.
After the preparations were complete, Liu Dashao nestled close to Zhang Enpu and sat down again. The robe was a bit too small to cover both of them, so Zhang Enpu gently pulled it over Liu Dashao, covering his entire body, while half of his own arm was exposed. Liu Dashao didn’t mind and smiled, then focused intently on the doors and windows, his ears twitching occasionally as he listened for any movement outside. Zhang Enpu stared at the compass in silence, and after a while, he slightly closed his eyes, activating his yin-yang vision, and began to meditate.
The mountain wind rustled through the cypress trees in the village, often blowing fallen leaves onto the windows of the villagers’ houses, creating crisp sounds. The livestock in the village had also quieted down, and occasionally, the sound of insects could be heard amidst the howling wind.
The hour of Zi was the time when yin and yang clashed, with yang governing life and yin ruling the earth. As Zhang Enpu had predicted, the thing that was supposed to appear finally lost its patience.
Inside Bai Erlazi’s house, it was pitch black. The cold mountain wind caused the fence around the courtyard to sway back and forth, appearing fragile yet never collapsing. Some leaves, carried by the wind, floated to the doorstep of Bai Erlazi’s house, about to touch the window, but were blown away by a stronger gust.
A dark figure stopped at the edge of the village, accompanied by a chilling breeze. It was a moonless and windy night, and the figure gazed at the dim, pale moon for a while before letting out a soft “whoosh” and leaping into the air. After a few jumps, its eyes suddenly glowed with an eerie red light. The wind, coincidentally, blew away the dark clouds, and under the light of the half-moon, the figure resembled the Black Impermanence from the underworld, coming to claim lives.
Two large yellow dogs, having just mated and about to sleep, sniffed the air and raised their heads to look at the sky. They trembled in fear and quickly retreated into their den, letting out low whimpers. From the depths of the mountains, the howls of wild beasts echoed.
In Bai Erlazi’s house, Liu Dashao was struggling to keep his eyes open, his head nodding down and then slowly lifting again. He was oblivious to the strange cries carried by the wind, as if they only existed in his dreams.
The yellow talismans on the table, pressed down by the compass, suddenly fluttered with a “whoosh,” like birds eager to escape their cage. The compass needle began to swing irregularly from side to side. Zhang Enpu, with a focused gaze, observed these ominous signs.
“It’s here…” Zhang Enpu said softly, his expression serious. A peach wood sword slid out from his sleeve, and he grabbed a few talismans, holding them tightly in his hand. He sat upright on the stool, silently assuming a defensive stance, ready to wait for the prey.
Liu Dashao was jolted awake by Zhang Enpu’s slight movement. He opened his eyes, still groggy, and was about to ask if it was already morning when he suddenly remembered that this was no ordinary day. He rubbed his eyes vigorously and asked nervously, “Old Taoist… is it here?”
Zhang Enpu almost fell off the stool from Liu Dashao’s “cheerful” tone. It seemed the kid had just woken up, completely unaware of the impending danger. If it weren’t for him, Liu Dashao would have been like a lamb to the slaughter. Without answering Liu Dashao, Zhang Enpu steadied himself and continued to listen intently to the sounds outside.
The night wind had stopped entering the house, but the flame of the old oil lamp began to flicker unnaturally, as if pulled by some mysterious force. The shadows of the old man and the young boy danced and flickered with the fleeting flame.
Seeing this, Liu Dashao realized something was wrong. He quickly rummaged through his belongings, pulling out his backpack, ready to hand over whatever Zhang Enpu needed. At the same time, he gave Zhang Enpu an awkward, apologetic smile.
The wind outside paused for a moment, then suddenly picked up again, much fiercer than before. The old wooden window began to creak and groan, unable to withstand the force. Inside, Zhang Enpu remained unfazed. He knew this was the demon’s way of issuing a warning: “Mind your own business, or else.” Or perhaps, before any evil entity attacked, it would create some eerie and terrifying atmosphere to weaken the morale of its victims.
But to Zhang Enpu, this was like being tickled by a strand of hair—it didn’t frighten him at all; in fact, it amused him. It seemed the demon was quite wary of him. Only Liu Dashao, standing beside him, had beads of cold sweat slowly forming on his forehead.
Having grown up in the mountains, Liu Dashao had seen his fair share of minor ghosts and spirits in temples. But the malevolent aura emanating from the drought demon outside had already made him extremely nervous. Now, with this added intimidation, it was a psychological challenge for Liu Dashao, who was experiencing such a “grand scene” for the first time. The fear remained, and Liu Dashao couldn’t help but press closer to Zhang Enpu, hoping for the ordeal to end soon.
By the straw stack, Wang Weizhen’s small triangular eyes suddenly widened, emitting a sharp glint. He glanced at the courtyard gate, where the wind was howling, and cautiously shifted his feet, waking up the four dozing strong men.
“What… what’s going on?” Bai Erlazi was in the middle of a dream where he was about to marry his bride and enter the bridal chamber when he was suddenly slapped awake, startling him.
“Shh!” Wang Weizhen gave him a meaningful look and made a silencing gesture to the others, quietly pointing his index finger toward the door.
Bai Erlazi immediately understood, covering his mouth with his hand and whispering, “Half-Immortal Wang, is it the zombie…?”
Wang Weizhen nodded heavily. The four strong men’s hearts immediately felt like fifteen buckets being drawn up and down, their skin crawling with goosebumps, and their hair standing on end. One of them, whose nerves weren’t as strong, even started trembling at the elbows.
“Don’t be nervous. When that thing comes in, do exactly as I say. Don’t be careless,” Wang Weizhen instructed, glancing toward the inner room. When he saw that Zhang Enpu and Liu Dashao were already crouching by the window, he smiled slightly, moved his hand behind his back, and with a slight bend of his spine, pulled out a peach wood sword soaked in black dog blood, holding it horizontally in front of his chest, ready to strike.
At that moment, the two wooden doors were suddenly sucked shut by the wind with a loud bang. Immediately after, a wave of overwhelming blood stench climbed over the high wall and seeped in. The strong men, despite covering their noses, were still choked and struggled to breathe. One of them even curled up on the ground like a shrimp, coughing violently. Wang Weizhen’s old face turned a deep purple, but he didn’t relax his vigilance in the slightest.
“It’s here, set up the formation!” Suddenly, Wang Weizhen let out a fierce roar, flipping in mid-air. With his right hand forming a sword gesture, he pulled another peach wood sword from its sheath and aimed it at the door, sending it flying with a “whoosh.” At the same time, the two wooden doors collapsed, and a dark figure appeared at the entrance. The sword, seemingly guided by Wang Weizhen’s command, struck the figure’s abdomen with a “thud,” though it was unclear how deep it went. Wang Weizhen didn’t have time to worry about that. He rolled to the southern edge of the glutinous rice field, brandishing the other peach wood sword in a dragon-and-phoenix dance, and commanded sharply, “Deploy the corpse-binding ropes!”
“Let’s do it!”
“Let’s do it!” Led by Bai Erlazi, the four strong men jumped out from the straw stacks, each holding a large coil of hemp rope in their left hand and spinning the iron-hooked end of the rope in their right hand like a windmill, creating a whooshing sound, ready to ensnare the zombie.
“Giggle…” The drought demon let out a sinister laugh, the sound leaking from its throat like a needle piercing the ears, echoing unnervingly. Its disheveled hair and the two fangs protruding from its pale face instantly turned the once-brave strong men into cowards. They stopped boasting and shouting, their legs trembling in place, teeth chattering loudly. One of them, named Heishan, even knelt down, muttering, “Oh my god, this zombie is terrifying!” Seeing the long fangs, Heishan immediately remembered the villagers who had died and the corpse of Li Fei, praying silently, “Don’t bite me, don’t bite me.”
“Useless fools!” Wang Weizhen, seeing Heishan’s reaction, felt like dying. Damn it, Zhang Tianshi had thought of the formation and the setup, but he hadn’t considered the villagers’ ability to withstand fear! At this critical moment, he could only rely on himself. Thinking this, Wang Weizhen spat on his palms, grabbed the peach wood sword, and swept it in a half-circle, scattering the glutinous rice on the ground toward the drought demon. The demon instinctively tried to dodge but ended up stepping on the glutinous rice, letting out a painful howl. White smoke rose from its feet, and the rice near its feet turned into charcoal, filling the air with a burning smell. “Take this!” Wang Weizhen, not stopping, threw another handful of glutinous rice, this time hitting the demon squarely. He grinned, knowing that glutinous rice was the bane of zombies. Any zombie that came into contact with it would be rendered harmless. Although this zombie was fierce, the entire courtyard was covered in glutinous rice—it would soon be wrapped up like a rice dumpling. Thinking this, Wang Weizhen couldn’t help but laugh, but his laughter was cut short. He realized that the drought demon was slowly hopping toward him, and with each step, the glutinous rice it stepped on turned black. Behind it, a trail of black footprints had formed.
“Damn it!” Wang Weizhen’s head was spinning. This thing was too fierce! How could so much glutinous rice not subdue it? Was this even a zombie? But Wang Weizhen, having some experience, quickly calmed himself and waved his hand, shouting at Bai Erlazi, “Kid, what are you waiting for? Get to work!”
“Oh, oh, oh, get to work, get to work…” The men snapped out of their daze and positioned themselves at the four cardinal directions, spinning their ropes. Bai Erlazi took the lead, flicking his wrist and sending the black iron hook flying, wrapping it around the demon’s waist. The heavy hook continued to spin around the demon several times before finally dropping. The other three followed suit, and soon, the demon was tied up like a meat dumpling. The four men exchanged glances, then pulled the ropes with all their might, tightening them until the demon was immobilized.
“Roar…” The drought demon let out a fierce cry, abandoning Wang Weizhen and lunging toward Bai Erlazi.
“Change formation, change formation!” Wang Weizhen, seeing the danger, quickly directed them. Without needing his command, the four men, having been trained by Zhang Enpu, began to act. The initial fear gradually faded as they faced the life-and-death situation. Seeing the demon heading toward Bai Erlazi, the two men controlling the ropes in the opposite direction increased their strength, pulling the ropes over their shoulders like oxen pulling a cart, while Bai Erlazi and Heishan stepped back, tightening the ropes again, thus immobilizing the demon once more.
But to Zhang Enpu, this was like a fly trying to scare a person—annoying, but not frightening. In fact, it almost amused him. Liu Dashao, however, was already sweating nervously.
Though he had seen many minor spirits and demons in the mountains and temples, the chilling aura emanating from the vampire outside was enough to make him extremely anxious. Combined with the eerie display, this was a true psychological test for Liu Dashao, who had never faced such a terrifying scene before. He edged closer to Zhang Enpu, silently wishing for it all to end soon.
Outside, behind a haystack, Wang Weizhen’s small, triangular eyes suddenly widened, flashing with sharp light. He glanced at the howling courtyard gate, then carefully moved his feet, gently waking the four drowsy men.
“What… what’s going on?” Bai Erlai had been dreaming of getting married—just about to enter the bridal chamber—when someone suddenly slapped him, causing him to jump in fright.
“Shh!” Wang signaled with his eyes and motioned for silence to the others, then quietly pointed toward the gate.
Bai immediately understood. Covering his mouth, he whispered, “Master Wang, could it be… the vampire?”
Wang nodded gravely. The four men’s hearts sank like fifteen buckets in a well, their skin crawling with goosebumps, their hairs standing on end. One man, unable to handle the pressure, began trembling uncontrollably.
“Stay calm. When it comes in, follow my orders. Don’t make any mistakes,” Wang instructed, glancing toward the inner room. Seeing Zhang Enpu and Liu Dashao’s shadows already crouched by the window, he smiled slightly. Then, he moved his hands behind his back, bent his spine, and drew out a peach-wood sword soaked in black dog’s blood, holding it in front of him, ready to strike.
At that moment, the two wooden doors suddenly slammed shut as if pulled by an invisible force. A strong, nauseating stench of blood rose over the walls and seeped into the courtyard. Though the men tried to cover their noses, the smell was overwhelming. Some collapsed to the ground, coughing violently. Wang’s face turned a deep purple, but he remained alert.
“It’s here. Form the formation!” Suddenly, Wang roared, flipping mid-air. With a flick of his right hand, the other peach-wood sword flew from its sheath, aimed directly at the gate. With a loud *thud*, the sword struck the black figure in the doorway, piercing deeply. Wang didn’t wait to see the result. He rolled to the exact southern point of the sticky rice-covered courtyard, wielding the other sword in a dazzling, dragon-like arc. He bellowed, “Bring out the binding ropes!”
“Let’s do it!”
“Let’s do it!” Bai Erlai and the others leapt from behind the haystacks. Each held a large coil of rope in their left hand and swung the iron-hooked end like a windmill, ready for the vampire to approach.
“Giggle…” The vampire cackled—a sound that seemed to leak from its throat, echoing eerily, like needles piercing the ears. Its long, disheveled hair and pale face with two sharp fangs sent the once-bold men trembling. One of them, named Heishan, immediately dropped to his knees, crying out, “Oh my god, this vampire is so terrifying!” Thinking of the villagers who had died and Li Fei’s corpse, he silently pleaded, *Don’t bite me! Don’t bite me!*
“Pathetic!” Wang Weizhen muttered, nearly wanting to cry. *Zhang Tian, you thought of the formation, the setup, but not the villagers’ ability to handle fear!* There was no choice now but to rely on himself. Spitting into his palms, Wang gripped his sword and swept it in a wide arc, scattering sticky rice toward the vampire. Instinctively, the vampire tried to dodge, but it stepped onto the rice-covered ground. A painful wail erupted as white smoke rose from its feet. The rice near its feet turned black, and the air filled with the stench of burning. “Take that!” Wang shouted, throwing another handful of rice. This time, it hit the vampire directly. Wang’s face lit up—he knew sticky rice was a vampire’s weakness. Any vampire that touched it would lose its power. This vampire might be strong, but the entire courtyard was covered in rice. Soon, it would be wrapped like a rice ball. Wang laughed out loud—but only once. Because he saw the vampire slowly hopping toward him. With each step, the rice beneath its feet turned black, leaving a trail of dark footprints behind.
*Shit,* Wang thought, *this thing is too strong! How can it resist so much rice? Is this even a vampire anymore?* But Wang had some experience. After a moment of panic, he regained his composure and shouted, “Hey, what are you waiting for? Move!”
“Okay, okay, moving!” The men snapped out of their daze and took positions at the four cardinal directions, swinging their ropes. Bai Erlai moved first, tossing his iron hook. It flew through the air and latched onto the vampire’s waist. The heavy hook wrapped around its body several times before hanging loosely. The other three followed suit, and soon, the vampire was bound tightly like a meat dumpling. The four men exchanged glances, then pulled the ropes with all their might, tightening them and immobilizing the creature.
“Roar!” The vampire screamed, abandoning Wang and lunging toward Bai Erlai.
“Change formation! Change formation!” Wang shouted desperately. But there was no need—he had trained them well. In this life-or-death moment, their initial fear faded. Seeing the vampire charging at Bai, the two men controlling the ropes opposite him immediately pulled harder, bracing the ropes on their shoulders like oxen. Bai and Heishan took several steps back, tightening their ropes again. Once more, the vampire was pinned in place.
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