Zhang Enpu truly wept this time—what the hell was going on! Xiaohanba had already gotten a taste for it, and now the adult hanba was also charging in full force, opening its mouth wide and aiming straight for Zhang Enpu’s neck, determined to drain every drop of his blood. Hanba had been stuck inside a coffin all day long, never brushing its teeth or rinsing its mouth—its breath was unbearable, even worse than garlic. Zhang Enpu nearly fainted from the stench, but he gritted his teeth and endured. He stomped hard on the hanba’s chest, using the momentum to hurl himself toward a pile of rubble not far away.
With a powerful push, Zhang Enpu shakily rose from the muddy ground. His brand-new Bagua Taoist robe was now no different from a soldier’s camouflage uniform—completely torn and splattered with mud from head to toe. Worse still, he looked dazed and unfocused, his vision not even landing on his opponent, the hanba. It was clear he had taken a serious tumble.
The hanba had no mercy in its heart, nor any tradition of respecting elders or protecting the weak. Although it was an evolved form of zombie with a bit of intelligence, it retained mostly its primal, beastly instincts—a savage bloodlust. At this moment, in its blazing red pupils, Zhang Enpu was nothing more than prey, and predators don’t show courtesy to their prey. With a thunderous *dong-dong-dong*, it leaped forward to a spot just two meters behind Zhang Enpu and lunged like a tornado.
As the hanba’s claws were about to strike his face, Zhang Enpu instinctively reacted. He crouched low, raising both arms in a defensive posture—his right hand gripping the hanba’s elbow, his left hand locking its wrist, then shifting his body sideways. With a swift motion, he threw the hanba. The entire movement was seamless, fast and fluid.
Zhang Enpu furrowed his brows, then relaxed them. His snowy white goatee fluttered slightly, as if stirred by invisible winds. Reflecting on his spontaneous move, he realized it was exactly the posture of Tai Chi. After all, he made his living as a Taoist priest, and over the years, he had encountered countless strange phenomena. If he had relied solely on talismans and incantations without cultivating martial skills, he wouldn’t have survived. Take today’s hanba, for instance—this was pure physical combat! It was said that Tai Chi overcame hardness with softness, and that’s exactly how he had trained. Yet Zhang Enpu had never imagined he would one day use this martial art against a hanba. Sigh! Well, whether it was a black cat or a white cat, the one that catches mice is the good one. If this method worked, he would give it a try. With this thought, Zhang Enpu rolled up his sleeves, and his previously pale face regained a little confidence.
But the hanba was also quick to react, and its resistance to damage was astonishing. Before it hit the ground, it lifted its stiff knees and landed steadily, avoiding a direct fall. This caused the faint smile just beginning to form on Zhang Enpu’s face to vanish instantly.
Unfazed by the setback, the hanba stood firm and once again lunged forward with both claws aimed at Zhang Enpu’s face. This time, the attack was fiercer and faster. But Zhang Enpu remained calm. He executed the Tai Chi “Single Whip” move, blocking the hanba’s claws and redirecting the force. At the same time, he swept his foot in a hooking motion at the hanba’s ankle. This time, the hanba finally lost balance completely and crashed to the ground.
But as if nothing had happened, the hanba sprang back up from the mud. Yet before it could attack again, Zhang Enpu seized the initiative. He reached out and grabbed the hanba’s wrist, yanking it backward. The hanba, still unsteady from just rising, was pulled forward by the force, its upper body bending forward. At that moment, Zhang Enpu suddenly shifted from retreat to advance, stepping forward and twisting his body. He drove his shoulder hard into the hanba’s forward-leaning chest, sending it staggering backward with a *thud-thud*.
Even the strongest counterattack of Tai Chi had its limits and couldn’t amplify force infinitely. Zhang Enpu knew that if the hanba’s fierce blow struck his head, he might lose consciousness instantly. In response, he raised both hands to intercept the hanba’s claws and, using the Tai Chi principle of “using four ounces to deflect a thousand pounds,” redirected the force. The hanba’s arms spun uselessly around its body, missing their target.
Just as Zhang Enpu was about to seize the opportunity for a counterattack, the hanba suddenly opened its mouth wide—far beyond any human limit—turning into a gaping maw with razor-sharp teeth like saw blades, snapping toward Zhang Enpu’s throat.
Seeing the unkillable creature coming again, Zhang Enpu, still lunging forward, gave a bitter smile. He couldn’t retreat now. Fortunately, he remained calm under pressure. His body suddenly bent backward like a rigid steel plate, almost folding at a ninety-degree angle. The hanba’s teeth barely grazed under his chin.
After missing the prey several times in a row, the hanba was now furious and even more terrifying. Its arms, hard as steel whips, stabbed repeatedly toward Zhang Enpu’s neck. Against such relentless attacks, even Zhang Enpu’s Tai Chi techniques of “borrowing force to strike force” were no longer effective. He decided to take the initiative. He launched a “Cannon Fist” combined with a “Single Palm,” concentrating all his strength into a single point. He leaped into the air and delivered a powerful strike to the hanba’s shoulder.
The hanba didn’t dodge. It took the blow head-on. As Zhang Enpu was still recovering, the hanba extended its arms straight and aimed for his neck again. Zhang Enpu barely dodged by turning his head, but this time, the hanba didn’t attack in a straight line. Missing once, its arms suddenly twisted clockwise by ninety degrees, slicing toward Zhang Enpu’s head like a chainsaw. Its razor-sharp nails slashed across Zhang Enpu’s cheek, instantly leaving a deep gash, blood gushing out.
Without pausing, the hanba took a few spring-like steps and delivered a hammer-like punch straight into Zhang Enpu’s abdomen. Zhang Enpu felt his internal organs churn violently, as if struck by thunder, almost making him vomit. Then, he felt a heavy pressure on both shoulders. Dazed, he opened his eyes and saw the hanba grinning at him, its red-and-white fangs exposed, its ten black-scaled nails digging into his collarbone—uncertain of its next move. Instinctively, Zhang Enpu lowered his body and tried to twist free. But he heard a *tearing* sound—his sleeves were ripped off in an instant. Fortunately, he had moved slightly, or it would have been his arms torn off. His heart pounded with fear, but before he could recover, the hanba grabbed him again. Its ten fingers dug deeply into his chest, and with a roar, it lifted him high into the air. The hanba’s strength was beyond human—it must have been hundreds of pounds. Zhang Enpu was thrown far away, landing near the edge of the graveyard for the second time. This time, he was far less fortunate. Upon impact, his spine slammed onto a rock, likely breaking several bones.
“Ahh!” Zhang Enpu screamed in pain as he knelt to the ground. Looking down, he was relieved to see that his cotton undergarment, though thin, had prevented a fatal wound. But it was now deformed at a terrifying angle. Blood gushed outward in a wild, unrestrained spray, clearly indicating that the surrounding blood vessels had been completely torn. The broken bones protruded from his skin, displaying a cruel, violent beauty in the air.
The heavy scent of blood slowly spread into the air. As soon as it reached the hanba’s nose, it transformed into a sweet delicacy, making the creature pause in ecstasy. Seeing this, Zhang Enpu’s face turned from pale to black in an instant—shifting three shades in a moment. He knew exactly what the hanba was thinking. His own death was a small matter, but if the hanba escaped, it would be like releasing a tiger back to the mountains. There were two nearby villages, and if the creature escaped to feed on blood there, it would unleash a wave of bloodshed and terror. It would be too late to regret it then. Thinking this, Zhang Enpu gritted his teeth. No matter what, he had to use his last move early.
Moments later, enduring the excruciating pain, Zhang Enpu stood up. He drew the Longhu Celestial Sword he had carried on his back, stood still, and with his left hand, struck his chest hard. Blood spurted out, splashing onto the sword. His right hand swept across the blade, spreading the crimson droplets across the entire metal surface. Then, closing his eyes, he began chanting a long incantation.
“From the celestial and mysterious origin, all things derive their essence.
Through countless aeons of cultivation, I attain divine power.
Within and beyond the Three Realms, only the Dao is supreme.
My body shines with golden light, enveloping and protecting me.
You cannot see it, nor hear it,
Yet it encompasses heaven and earth, nurturing all beings.
Recite this once, and your body will radiate light.
The Three Realms will guard you, and the Five Emperors will welcome you.
Ten thousand spirits will bow to you, and thunder will obey your command.
Demons will tremble, and spirits will vanish.
Within lies thunder, and the Thunder God hides his name.
Penetrating wisdom, the five energies rise.
Golden light, appear swiftly, protect this immortal.
As commanded by the Jade Emperor’s decree, so it shall be!”
As soon as the incantation ended, a fierce light burst from Zhang Enpu’s eyes. He bent his left leg and extended his right, stepping forward nine times in a formation-like manner. His waist twisted like a willow swaying in the wind, his posture strange yet flawless. Was this just random footwork? No, not at all. If one examined it closely, this step contained profound knowledge. This technique was known as the “Yu Steps”—legend says it was created by Emperor Yu of the Xia Dynasty, hence the name. The Yu Steps incorporated the nine positions of the Bagua—Qian, Kan, Gen, Zhen, Xun, Li, Kun, Dui, and Zhonggong—symbolizing the nine provinces of ancient Han. It was a common footwork used by Taoist priests in divine rituals. Taoism revered the sun, moon, and stars, especially the Big Dipper. Practicing this step during prayers was believed to summon divine spirits, gain the power of the seven stars, expel evil, and invite the sacred. When Taoist priests practiced energy cultivation or ventured into forests, they often used this step to gather energy and ward off evil. The Yu Steps followed the arrangement of the Big Dipper’s stars, as if walking on celestial constellations—hence also called “Stepping the Stars.”
After completing the Yu Steps, Zhang Enpu raised his sword from below, pointing it diagonally at the hanba. With his free hand, he dipped in blood and formed three beautiful hand seals in the air. The final three gestures overlapped into a single motion, forcefully pressing onto his forehead. This was the ultimate technique of the Celestial Sect: “Three Flowers Gather at the Crown!”
“Pfft…” A surge of discomfort rose in Zhang Enpu’s throat. He couldn’t help but spit out a mist of blood, but his hands never faltered for even a moment.
“I, Zhang Enpu, the 63rd-generation disciple of the Celestial Sect, summon the ancestral master to possess me!” A thin line of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His thunderous voice, like the surging tide of the Qiantang River, swept across the sky.
“Buzz…” At the same time, the Celestial Sword in his hand began to vibrate, as if echoing an ancient call, welcoming something’s arrival. The vibrations grew stronger. Zhang Enpu trembled along with the sword, almost like a man shaking with fever, close to foaming at the mouth—ready to be taken away on a cart and treated for epilepsy.
Yet strangely, the pain throughout his body gradually faded with the rhythm intensifying. A transformation seemed to be occurring within him. It felt as if a mysterious power was radiating from his chest, spreading throughout his body. Every time the energy passed through a part of him, it brought an indescribable sense of exhilaration. The power surged into his brain, and gradually, his mind became clear, his eyes regaining their sharpness.
Zhang Enpu could feel the changes happening within his body, though he couldn’t see them due to the mystical spiritual summoning. Each cell within him was undergoing a transformation—one splitting into two, two into four. And the abilities of these cells did not diminish with division; instead, they evolved autonomously. One cell split into two, not only increasing in number but also improving in quality. They were evolving!
Of course, Zhang Enpu was unaware of these microscopic details. The cells continued to divide, and his entire body structure began to change temporarily.
Then, something astonishing happened. Starting from his feet, Zhang Enpu felt a strange sensation—itchy, as if wounds were healing. At first, it was subtle, but soon it spread rapidly throughout his entire body.
Suddenly, a cracking sound erupted from his thin body—*crack-crack-crack*, like fireworks. At the same time, muscles on his arms began to swell rapidly, like old trees sprouting new branches, growing visibly before one’s eyes. His previously loose Taoist robe now fit him snugly. If not for his unchanged white hair, one might mistake him for a robust young man in his early twenties, full of vigor and vitality. Fortunately, Liu Dashao and others weren’t present, or they would have been shocked beyond words.
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