Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

After the old dog finished speaking, he took a step back and shrank into the shadows at the base of the wall.

The stone slabs of the alley suddenly trembled, as if something was rolling underground.

The fat man's expression changed as he felt the black tassels on the Yin Soul Banner in his hand trembling wildly, as if it had been frightened by something.

Even the three vengeful spirits contained within the banner were trembling.

"The formation has moved." The fat man gritted his teeth and turned to look at Chen Mo.

But he remained motionless, his back against the wall, not even pulling out his knife.

The fat man wished he could smash the Ghost Banner in his face.

Suddenly, a crack appeared in the stone slab in the middle of the alley, and a gray hand reached out from the crack and grabbed the ground.

Then came the second and the third, which grabbed the ground and climbed up.

These are not human beings.

The creature that emerged from the ground still retained its human shape, but its skin and flesh had long since withered.

Their eyes are two black holes, and their mouths are wide open, but they have no tongues.

"Old Dog's specialty," Old Hou on the wall tapped his pipe and took a puff, "These aren't ordinary zombies. They're medicinal zombies he brought from western Hunan, fed with Miao herbs. You can't cut them with a knife or burn them."

The fat man didn't respond; he was too busy to talk now.

As soon as the three medicine-infused corpses appeared, they pounced on him with movements so fast they didn't seem like inanimate objects.

The fat man swung the Ghost Banner across, and the black tassels on the banner exploded, sending three ghosts rushing out and crashing head-on into the three medicine corpses.

The ghost passed through the body, but the medicine-infused corpse only paused for a moment before continuing its forward lunge.

"Damn it!" the fat man cursed, then turned and ran.

Old Hou, perched atop the wall, laughed heartily, pointing his pipe downwards: "Old Dog, well done! That fat guy's yours, I'll deal with the other one."

"Old Hou, behind you!"

The old dog's shrill voice came from deep within the alley, tinged with fear.

Old Hou's hair stood on end, and without thinking, he rolled off the wall.

A flash of light grazed his scalp, carrying a chilling aura. A few strands of hair drifted down, swirling in the moonlight.

He fell to the ground, scrambling back three zhang (approximately 10 meters) before looking up and his expression suddenly changed.

There was a paper figure standing on the wall, about the same height as him, with two patches of rouge painted on its cheeks and the corners of its mouth turned up as if it were smiling.

The paper knife in his hand gleamed with a cold, metallic luster; it was definitely not a child's toy.

Old Hou slammed his pipe on the ground, scattering sparks everywhere.

He didn't have time to feel sorry for himself, because three more identical paper figures suddenly appeared from the shadows.

"Damn it..." Old Hou's throat was dry, and he glanced at the paper figures that were closing in from all sides.

These things walk silently, their knees don't bend, yet they move at an unbelievable speed.

He gritted his teeth, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.

He bit his tongue, spitting a mouthful of blood onto his left palm.

"Wraiths, heed my command—rise!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the area within three zhang around Old Hou suddenly darkened, and even the moonlight could not penetrate it.

Six shadowy figures faintly appeared behind him; these were the six shadow puppets he had originally sent to intercept Chen Mo, which he had forcibly recalled.

The moment the shadow solidified, six shadow puppets simultaneously blocked Old Hou's path, colliding with the four paper figures wielding knives.

A piercing tearing sound suddenly echoed through the alley.

The shadow puppet had no physical form, yet it clung to the paper figures like viscous ink, tearing at their pale paper bodies.

The paper figure swung its sword, and with each strike, the shadow puppet's form faded a little.

"A paper puppet with swords and weapons? It doesn't quite look like one. Who are you to Chen Xuanli?"

Old Hou knelt on the ground, panting heavily. When he saw the two paper figures fighting, his expression changed drastically.

After being entangled by the shadow puppets, the four paper figures not only did not fall behind, but instead became stronger and stronger, showing signs of turning the tide.

"How can your paper doll hurt my shadow puppet? That's impossible!"

The Hou family's skills all lie in their shadow puppetry. Once their shadow puppetry is held back, their strength is immediately greatly reduced.

In the brief moment he was lost in thought, Chen Mo had already appeared before him, knife in hand. "Shouldn't you be worried about yourself now?"

The blade flashed coldly, yet was incredibly swift.

The first strike was aimed at his head.

Old Hou's pupils shrank suddenly. The knife came too fast, so fast that he had no time to dodge.

He only had time to tilt his head slightly before the blade grazed his ear, slicing off half of his earlobe, and blood splattered all over his face.

"etc--"

Old Hou's voice was stuck in his throat, because Chen Mo's second stab had already come.

The knife was delivered at a tricky angle, slashing upwards from below, aiming straight for his throat.

A look of terror flashed across Old Hou's eyes. In all his years of life, this was the first time he had come so close to death.

Before the yin energy clinging to the blade even touched his skin, he could already feel a chill in his Adam's apple.

At the critical moment, the copper coin that Old Hou wore close to his body suddenly exploded.

A golden light shot out from his clothes, forcefully blocking the blade.

With a "crack," the copper coin shattered into dust, and the blade's momentum was momentarily halted.

In the blink of an eye, Old Hou shrank to the ground and slid away three zhang (approximately 10 meters) like an eel.

"Scapegoat money?" Chen Mo frowned slightly. "You're quite willing to spend that."

Old Hou covered his bleeding ear, his face deathly pale.

That copper coin was a life-saving charm passed down from his master, which had been with him for twenty years. He never expected it to break like this today.

"Old dog!" he hissed, his face covered in blood, toward the corner, "Forget about that fat guy, come and kill this brat for me!"

"Otherwise, things might have gone awry today!"

Chen Mo didn't even lift his eyelids when he heard Lao Hou shouting.

The blade shifted, not aiming for the throat, but instead slashing downwards at an angle.

"ah--!"

Old Hou, who was trying to form a hand seal, screamed as one of his arms was severed at the elbow, splattering warm blood onto the bluestone slab, his fingers still twitching.

Without its master's control, the shadow puppet stood frozen in place.

Chen Mo sheathed his sword and pointed his left hand toward the wall.

The four paper figures that were fighting the shadow puppet suddenly stopped and silently darted into the shadows deep in the alley.

Old Hou, clutching his severed arm, stared at Chen Mo in disbelief: "Why...why didn't you kill me?"

Chen Mo didn't look at him, but simply picked up his knife and walked towards the old dog, his voice as calm as if he were talking about what to eat today.

"You're still useful. I'm quite interested in your family's shadow puppetry. Of course, you can also try committing suicide."

He carried the knife and walked slowly into the depths of the alley.

Behind me came Old Hou's heavy breathing, and blood from his severed arm dripped onto the bluestone slab with a faint pattering sound.

He dared not move. Two paper figures had returned sometime earlier, holding knives and surrounding him for about three feet, the tips of the knives pointed at his vital points.

Deep in the alley, the fat man's screams and curses mingled together.

Just as they turned the corner, they saw the fat man clinging to a doorpost, with three zombies behind him lunging at him, the one in front already grabbing his trouser leg.

"Help! Help!" The fat man's face turned pale, and his legs kicked like a cat that had fallen into the water.

Chen Mo didn't rush to make a move. Instead, he stopped and carefully observed the three corpses that had been poisoned.

The shriveled flesh had a bluish-black tinge, and the joints showed faint traces of stitches. Although the movements were quick, they were stiff.