Chapter Forty-Six: Teng Teng Town

The night was at its darkest, and a streak of crimson-gold light shot across the sky at dizzying speed, vanishing as quickly as a meteor. Li Yang stood atop the back of the Six-Winged Golden Centipede, flying swiftly in the direction pointed out by the Earth Deity.

"Hmm... such a heavy aura of sinister energy!"

It wasn't until the first light of dawn that a small town, surrounded on all sides by mountains, gradually came into view. "What a perfect place for nurturing corpses—no wonder the earth below has gathered a vein of Earth Fiend Yin energy."

From his vantage high above, Li Yang saw the town nestled amongst steep peaks. At the entrance stood two mountains shaped like pillars, flanked by undulating ridges, with their backs against sheer cliffs, forming the unmistakable silhouette of a coffin. The town lay within, as if its inhabitants were entombed, shielded from sunlight by the encircling mountains. The air was damp and oppressive, thick with yin energy.

"Still, even if this place is naturally suited for raising corpses, there shouldn't be any sinister energy present. This is odd..."

Li Yang landed the golden centipede atop a mountain peak, surveying the surroundings carefully. The Earth Fiend Yin vein was a natural product of heaven and earth—though unsuitable for human absorption, it was still a form of worldly energy, and could not possibly generate evil energy on its own.

Descending the mountain and entering the town, he found it a wasteland. Even in broad daylight, every household kept their doors tightly shut. Occasionally, he glimpsed a living soul, but their faces were vacant, moving like the walking dead. The contrast with the bustling Ren Family Town was stark; this place was its mirror opposite.

At the town's center stood a grand and ornate Taoist temple. Its glazed tiles gleamed with gold, its vermilion walls shone, and the imposing gateway exuded solemnity. Above the gate, three gilded characters announced: "Maoshan Temple," dazzling and prominent.

"I've always heard that Taoist temples are built deep in secluded forests, never at a town's heart. This temple, nestled in the center, reminds me more of a Western church—strangely out of place..."

"Maoshan Temple... how laughable..."

Li Yang looked at the temple from a distance, sneering with contempt and shaking his head, before heading toward the mountain behind.

Just as he was about to leave, the temple doors creaked open. Two women stumbled out, clothes disheveled, faces streaked with tears, lips pressed tightly in humiliation and anger.

"Take care, ladies! Remember to visit again when you have time... ha ha!"

A man in his thirties, slovenly and insouciant, emerged from the temple. His chest was bare, draped only in plain white underclothes. His hair hung loose, his eyes brimming with sinister malice—a villain by any measure.

"Hmph—just as I thought, a pack of thieves and cheats. I'd like to see who dares to flaunt the Maoshan name for such blatant deception."

Watching this scene, Li Yang snorted coldly, glanced at the gilded plaque above the gate, swept his sleeve, and departed.

...

Behind Teng Teng Town, the ground was thick with pitch-black mire; the entire mountain was barren, covered in jet darkness.

"So this is the source of the evil energy—someone arranged it deliberately. What a vicious burial formation, truly the way of crooked paths..."

Li Yang gazed at the altar atop the mountain, his face grave.

"Hurry... move faster, you wretches! Unless you want the lash, get moving!" Suddenly, several burly men wielding whips drove a group of refugees—faces numb, hair wild—into the central cave beneath the altar.

Li Yang hid behind a pillar of stone, puzzled by the unfolding events.

"Heaven bright and earth clear, grant me divine aid: spell of invocation." He released the golden centipede, letting it mingle with the crowd, crawling deep into the cave.

The cave was bottomless, descending ever downward, lit by clusters of torches along the walls. As the centipede ventured deeper, it finally arrived dozens of meters below ground, where it discovered a huge chamber, several hundred meters across, like a football field.

"You may leave. These refugees stay."

At the chamber's heart stood a massive altar patterned with black and white—a Taiji platform. Seated at its center was a stern-faced old Taoist. His hair was streaked black and white, neatly tied with a Taoist hairpin. He wore a black-and-white Taiji robe, his beard three inches long, his sword-like brows sharp and piercing, his eyes occasionally flashing with electric sparks—making him stand out amid the dim cavern.

"Yes, Master." At his command, the burly men exchanged glances, bowed, and withdrew.

"Ha... Spirits of heaven and earth, command the walking dead: arise!"

Once the men had left, the old Taoist rose to his feet, stepping in a martial rhythm, chanting incantations.

Instantly, the soil stirred, and corpses resembling the walking dead clawed their way up from underground, surrounding the refugees.

"No... ah... help!"

"Mercy, Master!"

"Ah... get away... I don't want to die..."

Facing this sea of corpses, the refugees fell into panic; despair, helplessness, and cries echoed throughout the chamber. Severed limbs flew everywhere, the scene was gruesome beyond measure. The old Taoist stood atop the platform, unmoved, coldly watching the refugees as if they were mere ants.

"Maoshan corpse-driving technique? No... this seems to be a twisted version. And these aren't traditional zombies—they're closer to the undead from movies in my previous life. Otherwise, no matter how skilled this old Taoist is, he couldn't control so many corpses at once."

Through the golden centipede's eyes, Li Yang watched with a heavy heart, a sense of foreboding rising within him.

"Ha... Spirits of heaven and earth: ghosts of the underworld, heed my command, let a hundred spirits follow!"

As the undead dispersed, the chamber was left empty save for traces of blood—a grim testament that what had just happened was no illusion.

The old Taoist raised his hands, electrical currents crackling around him. A gust of eerie wind blew through the cavern. With a roar, he opened his mouth wide, and dozens of transparent souls emerged from the void, flocking to his mouth like swallows returning to their nests.

"What a ruthless heart—devouring souls, leaving not a trace. Such sinister sorcery..."

The old Taoist swallowed so many living souls, then sat cross-legged, white smoke billowing from his crown, a greenish glow flickering across his face, lightning dancing over his body.

After a quarter of an hour, he exhaled a long breath, rose with a flush on his cheeks, and nodded with satisfaction.

"Using living souls to enhance his cultivation—this old Taoist's methods are truly wicked. His power is unfathomable!"

Witnessing this, Li Yang hesitated. According to the events of his previous life, Teng Teng Town should have been an abandoned village. How could such a formidable figure appear? Judging from Li Yang's observations, this old Taoist's mastery was nearly equal to the highest ranks of Taoist masters; even Master Nine would pale in comparison.

With a dark and uncertain expression, Li Yang descended the mountain, deciding to first gather information about the old Taoist in town, and explore the temple by night to gauge his strength. If worst came to worst, he would have to abandon the Earth Fiend Yin vein here.

Only now did Li Yang understand why the Earth Deity hesitated when mentioning Teng Teng Town. Clearly, he knew of the old Taoist's existence. For someone who could make the Earth Deity wary, this Taoist must have a formidable background—far from an ordinary charlatan.