Zombie Life Begins in Hongxi Village

Lin Yi lay on the bed with her eyes closed, her breathing gradually becoming long and even.

The mortuary was not quiet at night. The clucking of hens could be heard from time to time from the chicken coop in the backyard, the crickets chirped merrily in the grass by the corner of the wall, and occasionally a dog barked in the distance.

These sounds, when mixed together, actually create a relaxing white noise.

Just as Lin Yi was drifting off to sleep, his eyelids twitched.

There was a sound coming from the yard.

The sound was extremely soft, softer than a cat stepping on a tile; even an ordinary person who was awake might not be able to hear it.

But Lin Yi's ears were not ordinary ears; he heard the rustling sound of cloth shoes scraping against the bluestone ground, and he heard deliberately suppressed breathing.

Most importantly, it smells of blood, a very faint scent of blood with a somber, herbal aroma, like old medicinal herbs buried underground for decades.

But without a doubt, the quality of this blood far surpasses that of ordinary people.

Lin Yi didn't open her eyes, but she pricked up her ears.

At this moment, a person was standing in the courtyard. He was thin and dressed in all black, with a black cloak covering his head, making him look like a dumpling.

The man was circling around Old Master Ren's coffin, acting suspiciously; he clearly wasn't there to do anything good.

"Is the target Ren Weiyong's coffin?"

Lin Yi's mind stirred—

In the original story, the Dragonfly Touching Water Cave originally belonged to a feng shui master, but Ren Weiyong took it away by force, relying on his power.

The feng shui master harbored resentment and deliberately laid lime under the tomb, turning a perfectly good spot into a place for raising corpses, just waiting for Old Master Ren to turn into a zombie and seek revenge on the Ren family descendants.

Now that there's been no movement on Old Master Ren's coffin, the feng shui master must be getting restless.

A green light flashed in his eyes, and his figure slowly disappeared from the bed.

The next second, he was already standing behind that person.

The man was bending over, holding a piece of gauze in his hand, carefully wiping the coffin.

Lin Yi understood at a glance—he was wiping the binding thread.

Several lines of cinnabar ink that had been flicked onto the coffin lid had been wiped away, and a thin crack was visible on the edge of the coffin lid, from which a chilling aura was seeping out.

"What's going on? So much of the binding line has been wiped away, why isn't Ren Weiyong getting up?" The man continued working, muttering in a very low voice, his tone filled with confusion.

Lin Yi stood behind him, looking down at him, and suddenly asked, "Hey, what are you doing so late at night?"

The man's body stiffened abruptly, as if struck by lightning.

The gauze in his hand fell to the ground, and he staggered a couple of steps, clutching his chest, before leaning against the coffin, gasping for breath.

Lin Yin could hear his heartbeat "thump thump thump," so fast it felt like it was about to jump out of his chest.

Lin Yi was a little worried that a man in his fifties with such a heart condition might just faint from fright.

It took the man quite a while to catch his breath.

He slowly turned around, revealing a gaunt, sallow face beneath his cloak hood, with sunken eyes, high cheekbones, and lips as thin as two lines.

He looked Lin Yi up and down—a young man in his early twenties, wearing a white shirt, standing in the moonlight, looking harmless.

A sharp killing intent flashed in the man's eyes.

His withered, claw-like hand shot out like lightning, its five fingers forming a claw, and directly gripped Lin Yi's neck.

Then twist it hard.

It wouldn't budge.

He paused for a moment, then twisted it again.

It still won't turn.

His neck was as hard as cast iron. His hand, which had been treated with special medicine for decades and could crush cow bones, couldn't even break a neck.

He could even feel the warm, smooth skin on the other person's neck, without even getting goosebumps.

Is this even human?

Lin Yi looked down at him with a smile on her face: "Master, you have quite a strong grip."

The man's pupils contracted sharply as he tried to pull his hand away and back, but it was too late.

He felt a blur before his eyes, as if the surrounding scenery had been suddenly ripped away—

The courtyard, coffins, lanterns—everything in the mortuary twisted and deformed in an instant, then reassembled into a completely unfamiliar wilderness.

The moon was still hanging in the sky, but the ground beneath my feet was no longer the bluestone floor of the mortuary.

All around were weeds and miscellaneous trees, and in the distance was a dark mountain. The wind carried the scent of earth and wild grass.

The feng shui master's face turned completely pale.

"Are you... are you a human or a ghost?"

His voice was dry and hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against wood.

"How did you bring me here? No, it must be an illusion! Yes, it must be an illusion! Break!"

He suddenly flung open the hood of his cloak, bit his tongue, and spat out a cloud of blood mist at Lin Yi.

Lin Yi dodged to the side with a look of disgust: "Damn it, you even dared to spit on me."

He grabbed the feng shui master by the neck, his fingers tightening just the right amount of force—not enough to crush his throat immediately, but enough to prevent him from breaking free.

The feng shui master's legs were dangling in the air, and he was kicking desperately. He was grabbing and pinching his wrists with both hands, but it was like an ant trying to shake a tree, and he couldn't budge them.

Lin Yi opened his mouth, revealing two fangs protruding from his upper gums, gleaming coldly in the moonlight. He lowered his head, aimed at the feng shui master's carotid artery, and bit down.

"Gurgle—"

The moment the blood rushed into her throat, Lin Yi's eyes narrowed slightly.

Indeed, the blood of those who cultivate the Tao is different.

Thick, sweet, and mellow, it's like a wine aged for thirty years, or a medicinal paste slowly simmered with dozens of herbs.

Every drop of blood contains the essence of magic accumulated over the years. As it slides down the throat, a warm feeling spreads from the stomach to every part of the body.

Within seconds, the feng shui master's body shriveled up, turning into a skin and bones mummy.

Lin Yi released her grip, and the dried corpse fell to the ground with a thud.

He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of his blood being digested within his body—

I just teleported several miles with someone, which consumed a lot of energy, but now I've not only fully replenished it, but the power in my blood has even increased slightly.

Although it was only a very slight increase, it did indeed enhance the effect.

He opened his eyes, lost in thought.

The Pangu zombie knew in the original series that it could become stronger by drinking blood.

However, for second-generation zombies, the blood of ordinary people, apart from filling their stomachs, provides negligible improvement to their strength.

To truly grow, one must absorb the power of those with cultivation—Taoists, monks, demons, and those with supernatural abilities; the higher the quality, the greater the improvement.

Someone like Kuang Guohua, who has lived on pig's blood, dead people's blood, and expired blood for decades, is a second-generation zombie who can't even beat a third-generation yellow-eyed zombie. It's shameful to even talk about it.

He didn't want to follow in Kuang Guohua's footsteps. Yamamoto Kazuo had also been bitten by Jiang Chen; Jiang Chen had set up the Yamamoto Group in Japan, with a bunch of zombie henchmen under his command.

If he doesn't improve his strength quickly, he might get completely thrashed when they meet again in the future.

Moreover, this world isn't just about Contract Zombies and Mr. Zombie; who knows how many other messy film and television worlds have been lured in as well.

Although his newborn second-generation zombie baby has some strange abilities, his raw strength is undeniable—he might not even be able to secure a victory against a third-generation zombie in its prime.

Only when the full potential of the second-generation zombies is unlocked can they be considered for advancing to the Red Eye level.

However, there is one more place to go right now.

Lin Yi remembered that in the original drama, after Old Master Ren was seriously injured by Uncle Jiu, he hid in a cave in the back mountain and drank the blood of a giant gorilla that was about to become a demon before he recovered.

The fact that the gorilla could help a black zombie recover from its injuries and even awaken its intelligence indicates that its blood must be extraordinary.

Thinking of this, Lin Yi glanced at the feng shui master's dried corpse on the ground, then turned and was about to fly away.

Soon after, a thick aura of resentment condensed on the feng shui master's corpse.

Soon, a green will-o'-the-wisp rose from the corpse, flickered twice in the air, and transformed into the feng shui master's appearance before his death.

A translucent, ghostly figure hovered in mid-air, its eyes gleaming with venomous resentment. Its lips moved, emitting a hoarse, shrill voice: "I want revenge! I want—"

Before he could finish speaking, he saw Lin Yi standing in front of him.

Yes, Lin Yi had returned at some point and was standing less than two meters away from him.

The feng shui master's ghost shuddered, its spirit flickering like a poorly connected television screen, and stammered, "You...you weren't gone, were you?"

"Sorry, I'm back again." Lin Yi shrugged.

After saying that, he teleported to the ghost's side and threw a punch at it.

The fist pierced through the spirit, but the zombie-specific force field attached to the fist prevented the feng shui master's ghost from even letting out a scream before it was blasted into a scattered mass of green light, drifting away like fireflies in the night wind, and then disappearing completely.

Lin Yi clapped her hands and flew away again.

A short while later, he returned with a bucket of gasoline to the feng shui master's corpse. He poured the gasoline on the mummified body, struck a match, and threw it on top.

With a loud bang, flames shot up, illuminating the surrounding weeds with an orange-red hue.

Lin Yi stood by the fire for a while, making sure the body was completely burned, before dusting off his hands and turning to fly towards the back of the mountain.

This time, he's really gone.