Chapter 481

Mo Hua slipped out of the Ten Thousand Corpses Altar secretly.

Before leaving, he meticulously checked again, confirming he left no trace that Lu Chengyun or Zhang Quan might notice…

The little zombie lay peacefully inside the coffin.

The great tiger was also safely hidden in the hall.

The Ten Thousand Corpses Array, the Golden Altar, and the Bronze Coffin showed no signs at all.

Mo Hua relaxed, then concealed his form and slipped away quietly.

The next day, Mo Hua acted as if nothing had happened, once again following Lu Chengyun into the Ten Thousand Corpses Altar to complete the final touches on the array's core.

After entering the altar, Mo Hua observed his expressions and saw that Lu Chengyun remained as usual, having noticed nothing—he quietly sighed in relief.

Lu Chengyun was the clan lord, burdened with worldly affairs and entangled in countless duties.

He had to secretly build the Ten Thousand Corpses Array, oversee its progress, coordinate the corpse cultivators, and personally draw the Spirit Pivot Evil Array.

He was indeed very busy.

Moreover, in these recent days, he had been preoccupied with his own matters and no longer paid much attention to Mo Hua.

He seemed to have forgotten Mo Hua even existed.

Sometimes when Mo Hua spoke to him, he would just stare into space, indifferent and unresponsive.

Mo Hua pretended to be slightly displeased, feeling slighted, but inside he was delighted.

He wished Lu Chengyun would pay him no mind at all…

Aside from Lu Chengyun, there was only Zhang Quan.

Zhang Quan hated him.

But he was an array idiot who didn't understand formations, and his spiritual sense was weak.

Very easy to deceive.

Even when Mo Hua was hidden beside him, he couldn't detect a thing.

As for the array, it was even easier—Mo Hua could draw it wrong, mess it up, scribble it chaotically, haphazardly, full of errors…

Even if he drew an entirely different array right before Zhang Quan's eyes, Zhang Quan's "mastery" of arrays might not catch a single flaw.

Mo Hua shook his head slightly.

Indeed, one must read more and study Daoist knowledge.

Otherwise, one gets fooled like a fool and remains completely unaware…

Since he hadn't been discovered, Mo Hua felt at ease.

In the following days, Mo Hua turned his attention to the corpse cultivators within the Corpse Mine.

He wanted to know what kind of corpse was sealed inside the Bronze Coffin.

But he was an outsider, lacking sufficient corpse cultivation knowledge, unable to judge.

He could only approach it through the "experts."

These corpse cultivators were clearly "experts."

Mo Hua used a small trick to steal several corpse cultivation manuals from a few of them.

For example: *Basic Corpse Cultivation Method*, *Corpse Blood Art*, *Detailed Corpse Cultivation*, *Overview of Corpse Cultivation*, *Heavenly Craft Opening Corpses*, *Origins of the Corpse Sect*, *Classification of Corpses*…

The categories were diverse: cultivation techniques, overviews, miscellaneous treatises, historical records, anecdotes…

Mo Hua's horizons broadened.

Just corpse cultivation—these corpse cultivators had managed to develop so many intricate methods.

The cultivation world was indeed vast and complex.

Mo Hua began reading these corpse cultivation books whenever he had spare time.

But after only a few days, he felt physically and mentally unwell.

The books were bloody and sinister; the illustrations were cruel and grotesque, making him nauseated at the sight.

Mo Hua felt helpless.

"Corpse cultivation, indeed, is not something a normal person should learn…"

"Which normal cultivator would be interested in corpse cultivation?"

Mo Hua couldn't help but shake his head.

But he still had to endure the nausea and keep reading.

He read a great deal, yet still understood only fragments—many sections confused him completely, and there were many things he couldn't grasp.

"It seems I have no talent for corpse cultivation…"

Mo Hua felt resigned, yet also relieved.

He read through these books roughly, then stopped forcing himself, abandoning further study, and instead wrote down his questions, planning to "consult" a corpse cultivator.

This corpse cultivator needed to be honest, obedient, and slow-witted.

Otherwise, it would be hard to extract information from him.

After "scouting" the corpse cultivators in the Corpse Mine for several days, Mo Hua suddenly spotted an acquaintance.

A young Lu family disciple, with a sharp-featured face: Lu Ming.

Mo Hua's expression shifted slightly.

Lu Ming…

The very one who, at the beginning, had investigated the disappearance of the five miners, entered the Lu family mine to guide Mo Hua, had fainted from vomiting at the sight of the dead corpses, and had been "intimidated" by Mo Hua into revealing some of the Lu family's secrets—Lu Ming.

Lu Ming had lost all his former arrogance.

His face, like the other corpse cultivators, was as pale as paper, his expression dull and lifeless, speaking little, obeying every order like a living corpse.

Mo Hua observed Lu Ming for several days.

He discovered that he had only just arrived, making him a newcomer here—a lowly corpse cultivator.

Every day he learned to refine corpses, performed menial chores, and followed others' orders.

At night he "lay like a corpse" on his bed, expression blank, lost in thoughts no one could guess.

This Lu Ming was quite easy to question.

Mo Hua had asked him several questions before.

After nightfall, Mo Hua slipped out unseen and entered Lu Ming's Shi Shili, watching him in silence.

The Shi Shili was quiet, empty all around.

Lu Ming lay on the bed, his face numb, then suddenly twisted in pain, clutching his head, curling up on the bed, muttering softly:

"... Why am I so unlucky?"

"I'm stuck refining corpses... I'm finished..."

"I'll never find a wife in this life..."

After a bout of anguish and regret, he slammed his fist against the wall, cursing:

"It's all that brat's fault!"

"It's his fault!"

"His fault..."

"What's my fault?" Mo Hua asked.

In the silent Shi Shili, the voice suddenly rang out—strange and childish.

Lu Ming's soul nearly fled his body.

He flailed wildly, scrambling upright in panic, and saw a small figure gradually materializing on the chair by the wall.

"Ahh—"

Mid-scream, he clamped both hands over his mouth.

His startled cry cut off instantly, unheard by the other corpse cultivators.

Mo Hua picked up the teapot on the table, poured himself a cup, sniffed it, and found it was cheap tea but free of blood or fishy odor—genuine tea—then took a sip, smacked his lips, and asked Lu Ming again:

"What's my fault?"

That voice was crisp and familiar.

Lu Ming, his nerves settling, squinted closely—and recognized Mo Hua. He slowly exhaled.

It was a person—still a "familiar"—not a ghost, not a corpse.

Lu Ming leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily.

Seeing Mo Hua, Lu Ming was surprised, yet not entirely surprised.

He had seen Mo Hua before in the corpse mine.

Any array master with real skill was courted by the Lu family.

Mo Hua was no exception.

But he never imagined Mo Hua's status was so high—he could enter the corpse mine without refining corpses, treated with great respect, even chatting merrily with the Lu family patriarch.

Even many of the Lu family's elders didn't receive such treatment.

Yet he couldn't fathom why Mo Hua had slipped into his room so stealthily.

Lu Ming wanted to ask, but dared not.

One favored and well-treated by the patriarch—no matter how young—was not someone a former lowly Lu family disciple, now just a petty corpse cultivator in the mine, could question.

He dared not refuse to answer Mo Hua's questions either.

Lu Ming hesitated, then stammered:

"If not for you... I wouldn't have been... sent here..."

Mo Hua sipped tea, nodded, and understood.

Back at the mine, Lu Ming had told him some of the Lu family's secrets.

Though he later reported the matter to the Lu family patriarch, his conduct still counted as loose-lipped.

So he was punished, sent to the corpse mine, and made a corpse cultivator.

Lu Ming wasn't a good man, but not entirely evil either.

He probably couldn't accept refining corpses—but he was powerless, forced to endure it.

Hence his daily blank expression, like a walking corpse—only alone at night did he dare vent his emotions.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then suddenly asked:

"How are you coming along with refining corpses?"

Lu Ming blinked, puzzled why Mo Hua asked this, but reluctantly answered:

"Average..."

"Have you refined a corpse yet?"

"Not yet... only learned a bit from other corpse cultivators..."

Mo Hua's eyes brightened slightly. "How well?"

"Fine..."

Lu Ming mumbled.

Mo Hua pulled out a small slip of paper, cleared his throat, and spoke solemnly:

"Then let me test you."

Lu Ming blinked. "Why?"

Mo Hua frowned. "I'm testing you to see if you have ambition. If you learn well, I'll speak well of you to the Lord of the House, and help you get promoted in the future."

Mo Hua was making it up as he went along.

Lu Ming was momentarily bewildered by the deception, but still asked:

"Why?"

Mo Hua clicked his tongue. "We've known each other for a while. It's because of me that you entered the mine and became a corpse cultivator..."

"If I didn't know about this, fine. But now that I do, I naturally need to find a way to give you some benefit, to make up for it."

"Oh..."

Lu Ming thought it made sense, yet somehow... it didn't.

They were strangers with no connection—why would he speak well of me?

Lu Ming was still confused.

He was about to ask "why" again, but Mo Hua cut him off.

Mo Hua put on a stern little face and barked:

"I ask, you answer. Why so much nonsense?"

Pressed by Mo Hua's aura, Lu Ming felt a twinge of guilt and slowly nodded.

Mo Hua then began reading from the small slip of paper.

The slip recorded some things he didn't understand about corpse cultivation:

"How are zombies ranked by grade?"

"What's the relationship between grade and tier?"

"What types of zombies are there? What abilities do each have?"

And so on...

Lu Ming, not understanding the context, answered honestly:

"Zombie rank is divided into both grade and tier."

"'Grade' is first, second, third, fourth grade—equivalent to a cultivator's Qi Gathering, Foundation Establishment, Jin Dan..."

"'Tier' refers to the zombie's level: Gold, Silver, Copper, Iron, and at the bottom, the Walking Corpse..."

"There is distinction and connection between grade and tier, but they are independent."

"Like demonic beasts and other categories, a zombie's strength is measured by its grade."

"First-grade Walking Corpses, second-grade Walking Corpses, third-grade Walking Corpses... each possesses strength equivalent to the early stage of their corresponding major realm."

"Above the Walking Corpse comes the Iron Corpse; with each higher tier, the zombie's abilities undergo a qualitative change."

"Their bodies become harder, their corpse poison more potent, and they gain special corpse Dao abilities..."

Mo Hua was still confused, not fully grasping it, so he said seriously:

"Give me an example. Explain simply the relationship between zombie grade and tier."

Lu Ming felt as if he were being examined by an instructor. His heart tightened; after long thought, he spoke:

"A zombie's rank is built on grade, with tier defining its level..."

"A first-grade zombie usually has only two tiers: Walking Corpse and Iron Corpse..."

"A first-grade Walking Corpse is an ordinary Qi Gathering zombie."

"A first-grade Iron Corpse, by cultivation level, should be at the peak of Qi Gathering Ninth Layer, but with its copper head and iron body, it can rival some Foundation Establishment early-stage cultivators."

"A second-grade zombie starts at least as a Walking Corpse, typically cultivated as an Iron Corpse, but can reach up to a Copper Corpse..."

"A second-grade Walking Corpse has strength equal to a first-grade Iron Corpse. But because its flesh is rotting, it suffers disadvantages in actual combat."

"A second-grade Iron Corpse is very strong—equivalent to Foundation Establishment mid-stage, capable of sweeping aside first-grade Iron Corpses of Foundation Establishment early-stage."

"A second-grade Copper Corpse, with thick corpse qi and a body like copper and iron, equals Foundation Establishment late-stage—extremely powerful."

Mo Hua suddenly understood.

He had previously thought all Iron Corpses were the same, all possessing Foundation Establishment strength.

But Iron Corpses are also divided by grade.

A first-grade Iron Corpse is merely comparable to Foundation Establishment.

A second-grade Iron Corpse is Foundation Establishment mid-stage—stronger than a Foundation Establishment early-stage cultivator.

Thus, the Iron Corpses in the corpse mine cannot be treated as uniform.

The two tall Iron Corpses guarding the entrance were likely second-grade Iron Corpses.

The rest were a mix of first- and second-grade.

The overall strength of Lu Chengyun's zombies was far greater than Mo Hua had imagined...

Mo Hua frowned.

He glanced at Lu Ming and said, "Continue."

Lu Ming nodded. "Then there's third-grade, but none of us can cultivate them, so records are incomplete..."

"Third-grade zombies start at least as Walking Corpses and can be cultivated up to Gold Corpses."

"Fourth-grade and above start at least as Walking Corpses; it is said they might even be capable of cultivating true Flying Corpses..."

Lu Ming explained everything in meticulous detail to Mo Hua.

Mo Hua largely understood.

All zombies are based on 'grade.'

The lowest possible outcome of cultivation is always a Walking Corpse, but the upper limit varies.

The higher the 'grade,' the higher the upper tier possible.

The first-grade ceiling is an Iron Corpse, the second-grade ceiling is a Bronze Corpse, and the third-grade ceiling is a Gold Corpse…

The method of refining corpses in the Corpse Mine was obtained from the Zhang family and passed down for several hundred years; even if there are some discrepancies, they shouldn't be far off.

Then what kind of corpse is in that bronze coffin?

A Bronze Corpse comparable to late-stage Foundation Establishment?

Mid-stage Foundation Establishment would be fine, but a zombie of this strength at late-stage Foundation Establishment—even if refined, Lu Chengyun couldn't suppress it.

This doesn't quite match Mo Hua's earlier speculation.

"Then are there any special corpses?" Mo Hua asked again.

Mo Hua remembered that both *The Origins of the Corpse Sect* and *Treatise on Corpse Types* mentioned that some zombies with special functions, though also classified by "grade," fall outside the usual "rank" system.

"There are."

Lu Ming nodded and said seriously:

"There are some special zombies with unique functions, not ranked by strength, so they aren't classified by 'gold, silver, bronze, iron.'"

"For example, Puppet Corpses—they're a flesh-and-blood puppet, not a person, not counted as a corpse, just a puppet similar to wood or stone."

"And Doll Corpses…"

"A person refined into a human doll, preserving their appearance, skin, and figure, soaked in floral spiritual water—without the stench of decay, skin ice-cold, yet tender as if alive."

"Many cultivators pay a great price to buy them."

"And Tomb Figurine Corpses…"

"A person killed and refined into a zombie like a pottery figurine."

"This type of zombie is generally used for burial accompaniment."

"Not only the demonic path—even the orthodox path used to as well."

"Ten thousand years ago, when the sect masters or Supreme Elders of some major orthodox families and great sects died, they would 'bestow' death upon some close cultivators, refining them into Tomb Figurine Corpses for burial accompaniment."

"It's just that this kind of thing isn't very humane, so over the past ten thousand years or so, it has been gradually abolished by the Dao Court…"

……

Mo Hua listened, frowning.

Doll-like Doll Corpses?

Tomb Figurine Corpses for burial accompaniment?

When cultivators get perverted, they really get perverted…

(End of this chapter)