Joining Tiandao Company: Starting by mending a zombie world

Chu Sheng stopped wasting words with him, formed hand seals, and the remaining twenty-odd sword shadows suddenly changed direction, no longer defending, but shooting towards Yin Jiuling and the other three at the same time.

Attack is the best defense. The sword shadows attacked with incredible speed and tricky angles. The four members of the Ghost Cry Sect retreated rapidly towards the temple gate at the same time.

The sword shadows all shot into the ground and door frame outside the temple gate, scattering countless fragments of stone.

When the smoke and dust cleared, the temple was deserted. Chu Sheng was gone.

A skilled member of the Ghost Cry Sect tried to chase him into the back door, but Yin Jiuling grabbed him.

"Fool!" he gritted his teeth. "He could have easily killed us with his sword formation, but he chose to bluff and run away. That means he's more seriously injured than we thought."

He paused, a cold glint flashing in his eerie green eyes.

"He can't have gone far, chase him!"

Three hundred paces behind the temple, by the river.

Chu Sheng staggered out of the thicket, the numbness in his left arm spreading to his shoulder, his entire left arm hanging limply at his side, like a piece of wood.

The wisp of yin energy was still drilling into his heart meridian. With each inch it went deeper, his soul trembled and his vision went black.

A slender figure stood in the morning mist by the roadside, her hair half-wet from the fog, her right arm draped over her chest, and her left hand clutching a wood-chopping knife she had picked up somewhere.

Chu Sheng was stunned: "Why didn't you leave?"

Duanmu Ying turned her head, a smile on her face he had never seen before. "If I'm gone, who will collect your body?"

Chu Sheng wanted to call her stupid, to say that staying would only be a burden to him, and to say that he would catch up with her immediately if she left first.

But he said nothing, because he saw the answer in Duanmu Ying's eyes—she wouldn't leave.

It's as if he didn't leave the alleyway.

The footsteps of the pursuers were getting closer and closer.

"Let's go up the mountain," Chu Sheng spat out the blood and foam from his mouth.

"The mountains are densely forested, so their evil arts cannot be practiced."

Duanmu Ying nodded, and used her only left hand to support Chu Sheng's right arm. The two of them limped up the mountain.

Duanmu Ying bit her lower lip and suddenly stopped. "What's wrong?" Chu Sheng looked around alertly.

"Go in that direction," Duanmu Ying raised her left hand and pointed southeast, "Longhu Mountain is in that direction."

It's not far from Longhu Mountain; at your pace, you can get there before dark.

"And then?" Chu Sheng asked.

"Then you'll be safe. You're a Taoist disciple; Longhu Mountain won't abandon you."

Chu Sheng didn't speak, he just stared into her eyes.

"If you don't go, I can't go either."

"You—" Duanmu Ying stamped her foot in frustration, "How can you be even more stubborn than me!"

"I've said it before, whether it's the Lü family or the Ghost Cry Sect," Chu Sheng said, emphasizing each word, "no matter how many people are chasing after you—since I'm here, I have no intention of leaving alone."

The pursuers have closed in.

Footsteps approached from all directions within the woods.

There were more than five people from the Ghost Cry Sect. Yin Jiuling was waiting for reinforcements, and now the reinforcements have arrived.

In the dense forest, more than a dozen dark figures moved silently, tightening the encirclement from all directions.

A chilling wind blew, ghostly shadows loomed, the birds in the forest had all fled, even the chirping of insects had disappeared, leaving only a deathly silence.

Yin Jiuling stepped out of the shadows, his eerie green eyes gleaming with a playful, cat-and-mouse glint. "Now, let's see where you run."

Duanmu Ying pushed him with her still-functioning left hand: "Let's go!"

Chu Sheng turned and glanced at her.

Duanmu Ying's right arm was still in a sling across her chest, her pale face stained with morning dew and bloodstains, and her almond-shaped eyes were full of pleading.

Chu Sheng turned his head and gripped the hilt of the Dragon Pattern Sword tightly.

He wasn't facing an enemy—the patterns on the sword were shining brightly; he was about to detonate the Dragon Pattern Sword.

The patterns on the sword were shining brightly, a sign that the Dragon Pattern Sword was about to self-destruct.

However, at this very moment—

"Wow, what's all this commotion in this desolate wilderness?"

A lazy voice came from above.

Everyone looked up at the same time.

Someone was sitting on the branch of a crooked old pine tree.

That was a Taoist priest.

He was wearing a faded, worn-out Taoist robe with frayed cuffs and a loosely open collar, revealing a dusty gray undergarment underneath.

Her hair was haphazardly tied into a topknot, crookedly pinned at the back of her head, with a few stray strands hanging down her forehead, swaying in the morning breeze.

He was carrying a gourd of wine in his left hand and a half-eaten beggar's chicken in his right, his cheeks bulging as he chewed with grease.

He looked to be in his early twenties, with regular features, but his eyes were half-open and half-closed, as if he hadn't woken up yet.

"Where did this quack Taoist come from?" Yin Jiuling narrowed his eerie green eyes. "If you know what's good for you, get lost when you're dealing with the Ghost Cry Sect."

The Taoist priest ignored him.

He casually tossed the chicken bones aside, then picked up his wine gourd, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve before looking down at the crowd below.

"The Ghost Cry Gate?"

He tilted his head and thought for a moment, as if recalling something unimportant, then said "Oh."

"That lousy sect that refined their souls to the point of being neither human nor ghost?"

Yin Jiuling's expression changed.

"You're asking for it!"

He raised his right hand, and thick black energy simultaneously surged from the tips of his ten fingers, condensing into ten fist-sized skulls in the air.

The Taoist priest glanced at the skulls without even frowning.

"this one?"

He yawned and jumped down from the tree branch.

The landing was awkward; it looked like he hadn't stood firmly, stumbled, and almost fell flat on his face.

But at that very moment when he stumbled—

Ten skulls shattered at the same time.

It wasn't blown apart, nor was it chopped up; it disintegrated on its own.

Like a popped soap bubble, it vanished silently in the morning breeze, leaving not even a wisp of black smoke behind.

Yin Jiuling's pupils suddenly contracted.

He didn't even see the disheveled Taoist priest make a move.

"You, you—"

The Taoist priest steadied himself, patted the pine needles off his robe, and then looked up at Yin Jiuling.

His eyes were half-open and half-closed, still looking like he hadn't woken up yet.

"I am Zhang Zhiwei," he said, "from Longhu Mountain."

The woods were deathly silent.

For the first time, Yin Jiuling's sallow face showed a look of fear.

Longhu Mountain. Zhang Zhiwei.

"Zhang Zhiwei..." Chu Sheng stared at the Taoist priest in shock, his heart filled with astonishment, especially compared to his own experience with Wugensheng.

He admired the person in front of him even more.

Zhang Zhiwei. The 65th Celestial Master of the Celestial Master's Mansion on Longhu Mountain, the leader of the Zhengyi Sect, and known as "second only to one person".

No.

It's not just a claim.

And it is the best in the world.

He never expected to meet this legendary Taoist master in this place and at this time.

"Zhang...Zhang Zhiwei? You're the Zhang Zhiwei from Longhu Mountain?"

When Duanmu Ying heard the name "Zhang Zhiwei," she froze on the spot as if struck by lightning.

Her almond-shaped eyes widened, her lips moved a few times, and finally she spoke in a trembling voice:

Zhang Zhiwei tilted his head and glanced at her, a hint of surprise flashing in his half-open eyes: "Little girl, do you know this humble Taoist?"

"I don't know you." Duanmu Ying shook her head, but her voice became more urgent. "But Brother Huaiyi mentioned you to me."

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