Please control me, my divine being!

Jiang'an is located in the heart of Jiangnan, where the Zhuohe River, Qingjiang River and Nubo River converge. It has countless shipping routes and a thriving commercial sector, hence the saying "Three rivers intertwine like golden threads, half city is shrouded in mist and haze, half city is adorned with pearls".

Looking out from the air, the entire megacity sits on a plain, where three rivers converge and thousands of sails gather.

Silk from Sichuan, salt and iron from the north, and jewelry from Southeast Asia—cargo ships carrying goods from all over the world poured into the city.

Millions of people in the city began their busy work at dawn, like ants emerging from their holes, flowing to various places.

The giant city was divided into several districts by wide streets and high walls.

In the south of the city lies the imposing and austere area of ​​imperial palaces and government offices.

High walls and deep courtyards, vermilion gates and copper nails—this was the gathering place of powerful and wealthy families.

There are streets running north and south through the city, lined with shops, and bustling with traffic.

Furthermore, there were residential neighborhoods, which were well-organized, spacious, clean, and tidy, attracting many wealthy merchants and tycoons to settle down.

As for the north of the city.

The place where the Grand Canal converges is bustling and lively, attracting people from all walks of life.

Jijin Port, handicraft markets, and riverside residences... were bustling with activity, with boats stretching for miles. Even at midnight, tea was still being sold in the night market, and the flower boats on the river never stopped lighting up.

Such a prosperous metropolis was ultimately built upon the blood and sweat of countless people.

Take this riverside area in the north of the city, for example.

It was mostly inhabited by laborers, porters, and boatmen.

The alleyways were narrow and filled with sewage. There were also countless illegal workshops, such as porcelain kilns, textile mills, and wineries, clustered together, with smoke rising day and night.

For ordinary people working here, a ten-year lifespan has to be calculated as three to five years.

If someone unfortunately contracts a serious illness and has no money to pay rent or make a living, it is common for them to end up on the streets and die a violent death.

Yet, people continued to come and go in droves to enter the city.

After all, there are endless opportunities here.

Those rural people, harboring dreams, flocked to this dazzling southern pearl like moths to a flame.

Not to mention the many more people outside the city who could only live in low, makeshift shacks, relying on caravans entering and leaving the city and boats along the river to do even more shady and dangerous things.

Prostitutes, drug traffickers, assassins, robbers, miners, slave traders, underwater pearl sellers...

This chaotic and intertwined soil is a grinding wheel of flesh and blood, where every part of a person's body, whether dead or alive, can be put to full use.

Many people want to go to the city, but they can't find a way!

Jin Buhuan recalled his past experiences of risking his life outside the city, and cherished the peaceful times inside the city even more.

He had struggled for most of his life to finally acquire a small, unlicensed shop on the north bank of the city's waterfront. Before he could enjoy it for more than a few years, the ever-increasing taxes began to weigh him down.

"Sir, after deducting all taxes, bribes, and incense offerings to the Dragon King, we haven't made a profit this month; in fact, we've incurred a loss."

The accountant carefully held the ledger and listed out each expense item.

Jin Buhuan frowned and said in a deep voice, "I understand, you may leave."

He took the account book, told the accountant to go and rest, then closed the courtyard gate, checked inside and out to make sure no other outsiders were nearby, before entering the neighborhood.

The workshop is not large.

It is divided into the front yard, the inner courtyard, and the back yard.

As a black workshop that produces kiln porcelain, the front yard is almost full of drying racks, where many newly fired kiln wares are dried.

Inside the courtyard, several trusted men were repairing the blanks and also guarding the main entrance to prevent others from entering the workshop.

After all, as the core area of ​​a workshop, outsiders are generally not allowed to enter at will.

Jin Buhuan told the men to keep their eyes open before pushing open the gate and entering the neighborhood.

Inside the workshop were several kilns, their flames shooting into the sky and smoke and dust flying everywhere.

Waves of heat swept over us, making it unbearably hot even in the dead of winter, and it felt like a piece of burning coal was stuck in our throats when we inhaled the air.

He glanced at the workshop.

Several people were working in front of each kiln.

They were busy adding firewood, grinding materials, or adding fuel to the fire.

These people were clumsy and dull-eyed, their every move lacking in spirit. Some even put their hands into the kiln and were burned without realizing it.

"This stupid zombie, does he even deserve to be sold for ten blood coins a day?"

Jin Buhuan hurriedly went over and pulled the corpse worker's hand out, but the skin and bones were burned and tattered, making it unusable.

"Damn, another one ruined tonight!"

His heart bled as he counted the more than twenty corpses of laborers still inside the workshop.

However, there is not enough charcoal and wood for today, and we will have to wait until the charcoal seller comes to replenish it tomorrow.

Two of the kilns had already been shut down, but the corpse workers were still busy working on them.

"Looks like I need to buy some more intelligent zombies. These lowest-level zombies are still not good enough for fine work." He muttered to himself, taking out a bell from his hand and shaking it a few times.

Hearing the bell, the zombies lined up and headed to the backyard.

Although these unlicensed laborers can work 24 hours a day, the lifespan of tools such as kilns and blanks will be greatly reduced if they are used continuously.

"The zombie-working is still quite useful, but I have to be careful not to get caught. The profits from this month's work are enough for me to replace all my zombies with high-level ones. However, while high-level zombies are more intelligent, their maintenance is still an expense!"

As Jin Buhuan closed the gate inside the workshop, the gloom in his heart dissipated considerably.

He had no other choice but to dismiss all the workers in the workshop and replace them with cheap and easy-to-use corpse workers.

These corpse workers work tirelessly, without pay or food, and they don't cause trouble. They simply replace a corpse when it's worn out.

The firing work in front of the kiln is the most physically demanding.

In the past, every month or two, workers would get injured and pester him for money to pay for their medicine.

Now this major problem has been completely solved.

"Keep a close eye on them, and call me immediately if there are any problems." After sending all the corpse workers to the back room and locking it up, and giving instructions to his trusted confidants working in the front yard, Jin Buhuan slowly walked out of the workshop.

And in the backyard.

All twenty zombies were crammed into a storage room, making it extremely crowded.

When not in use, the zombies stand in the room to avoid exposure to wind, sun, and high temperatures, thus extending their lifespan.

The zombies were lifeless, like statues.

Suddenly, a zombie with a blood-covered face and a petite build began to dart around in its eyes.

She observed her "colleagues" around her.

Seeing that the zombies didn't react, she took two steps to the side, avoiding a stinking zombie in front of her.

"No rush, we've made it through so many days, we can't be impatient!" She suppressed her anxiety and remained standing in the house, trying not to move unnecessarily.

Until it gradually got dark.

Several trusted workers from the workshop came to the backyard to check, found nothing amiss, and then locked the gate and left one by one.

Although everyone knows that these zombies are inanimate objects and won't hurt people, being around such eerie creatures, especially late at night, makes anyone feel uncomfortable.

Click, click.

Inside the storage room, the female zombie, her face covered in blood and frost, finally waited until the dead of night.

She carefully pushed open the door and walked out with cat-like steps.

Stiff joints made her movements very slow, and she almost fell several times.

She slowly stopped at the corner of the backyard wall, feeling a powerful force pulling her back, preventing her from taking another step.

"Damn the Corpse Control Bell! If I get even a little further away, it triggers the restrictions within my body. Otherwise, I would have left this hellhole long ago!" She cursed viciously in her heart, but she didn't continue forward. Instead, she groped around in place.

Stiff skin and long nails, like a shovel.

With a gentle effort, a large patch of soil was lifted up.

A short while later, she pulled out some severed fingers and pieces of flesh from the soil, and then took out a talisman pen.

She made this talisman pen herself.

The main body is made of grass, and the nib is made of zombie hair.

After preparing these things, she picked up a broken bowl, quietly went to her colleagues in the room, and made an apologetic gesture: "Don't blame me, don't blame me. If I, Gu Qinghan, am ever able to break free from this predicament and resume my path, I will surely grant you all liberation, salvation, and revenge."

She used her long, black, sharp fingernails to pierce the skin on a zombie's back.

Foul-smelling black blood flowed out, and she hurriedly stretched out the broken bowl, catching not a drop.

The people in the workshop have an instinctive fear of zombies, considering them to be unlucky. They don't even dare to get close to them on ordinary days, only observing them briefly and failing to notice the injuries on the zombie workers.

Besides, which of the zombies sold here isn't overworked?

The Black Monk doesn't care about injuries; as long as he can keep moving, that's all that matters.

They cut open several zombies in succession.

Only when the broken bowl was half full did she breathe a sigh of relief, stick out her tongue, lick her dry, parched lips, and forcefully suppress her inner craving: "I can't drink it. I'm human, not a demon. Humans drink water!"

He quickly stepped out of the storage room.

The full moon hung high overhead, and the surrounding workshops were still bustling with activity.

Gu Qinghan moved with zombie-like steps, struggling to the side. She was so thirsty that she drew a full bucket of water from the well and gulped it down.

It wasn't until her stomach swelled slightly.

She remained unbearably thirsty, with no relief whatsoever.

She hadn't walked more than a few steps when she started vomiting violently again, bringing up all the water she had drunk earlier.

Thirst, still thirsty.

A strong hunger lingered in her stomach, making her instinctively want to bite open a living body, drink its warm blood, and fill the hunger ravine in her belly.

But she held back.

Tormented by hunger and thirst, Gu Qinghan came to a corner of the workshop.

This is where the workshop discards waste materials; piles of discarded stones and clay bricks are scattered haphazardly.

Gu Qinghan took out his self-made talisman brush, dipped it in the corpse's blood, and drew a simple ritual diagram on the ground.

Then she placed the severed fingers and pieces of flesh in the center of the ritual diagram, lit a broken incense stick, and silently recited in her heart:

"In the vast sea of ​​karma, all living beings rise and fall."

Entangled in countless pursuits, we all eventually return to dust.

We humbly request your acceptance and compassionate guidance.

Today, your disciple Gu Qinghan specially requests a wisp of divine thought from the Great Venerable Corpse Immortal of Myriad Professions to guide you through your confusion and help you return to your Daoist path...

The broken incense sticks have burned out.

There was no response from the silent surroundings.

Gu Qinghan was not discouraged. She had been mentally prepared. She stretched her stiff joints, pulled the burnt incense stick out of the ritual diagram, inserted another incense stick, and lit it with a flint.

Amidst the wisps of blue smoke.

She began to silently recite the lyrics again in her mind:

"The Northern Mangshan has a master, whose corpse's breath is his soul."

The immortal spirit remains, and the white bones become gods.

Life is empty, death is but a single thought.

"I humbly beseech the Yin Corpse Lord to have mercy on the people of this world."

However, without exception.

There was no response whatsoever.

Looking at the last stick of incense in her hand, she finally couldn't hold back any longer. A patch of lividity appeared on her face from anger, and she muttered a complaint under her breath:

"You're all ungrateful bastards! How many sacrifices have I given you in the past? Now, all I'm asking you to do is help me remove that little restriction on my body, and you won't even lift a finger!"

There are gods watching over us, but where are they?

"Come out and slap me to death right now, I'll accept it for the rest of my life!"

The moment she finished complaining.

The ceremonial diagrams drawn on the ground suddenly burst into flames.

The offerings collected in the center of the ritual diagram had their "value" extracted by some unseen force, turning them into black ash scattered on the ground.

An invisible, immense force descended upon her body in an instant.