Chapter 190

The Soul-Aspect inner vision was like a long, long night, like an endless black sky.

The ghostly sound of heavy chains colliding was the only movement in the absolute silence, and in the deepest part of the chaos, a huge figure seemed to be lurking...

It seemed to be the only living creature left in this desolate world, forgotten by heaven and earth, spurned by all living beings, with only loneliness, only sinking, only despair...

"Hehe, you've come... You've finally reached this step... wanting to spy on that supreme law, to see that shattered past, and to step into that destined future..."

The mysterious voice rang out ghostly, as if piercing through the vicissitudes of time, echoing in the deepest part of the Soul-Aspect inner vision.

"The Small Soul-Splitting Method is truly remarkable. You swallowed a Three Corpses Origin Pill and received the incense of the Prisoner Immortal Temple; you are no longer just an ignorant consciousness."

Zhang Fan's Soul-Aspect arrived at the deepest part of the inner vision and felt the changes in that massive figure.

"The Soul-Aspect is innate; for a mere consciousness to want to gestate into a Soul-Aspect is already a taboo of heaven. This is a long process with no end..."

The mysterious voice came ghostly, as if dispelling Zhang Fan's doubts.

Zhang Fan's Soul-Aspect remained noncommittal, looking toward the chaotic darkness and seeing that massive figure.

"I want to study the Three Corpses Origin Pill and see his past." Zhang Fan's Soul-Aspect whispered.

The "he" he spoke of was naturally the former world-number-one expert, the Three Corpses Daoist.

"As you wish!"

Rumble...

The Soul-Aspect inner vision began to shake. In the endless black sky, thunder actually flashed, each bolt like a dragon or snake rising from the land, as if to turn the world upside down.

The massive figure moved, accompanied by the sound of chains colliding—unprecedentedly violent, never before so ferocious.

Clatter...

Suddenly, the massive figure seemed to melt, and the sky-filling shadows surged over like a dam breaking or a great river churning.

Zhang Fan's Soul-Aspect was caught off guard and swept into those endless shadows.

At this moment, he felt like a drowning person, unable to breathe, unable to control himself, and could only drift with the waves; the raging torrents hid unknown dangers.

Death seemed to be just the next moment away.

His Soul-Aspect struggled powerlessly, clawing wantonly.

Hum...

Just at this moment, streaks of light flashed through the surging waves, like meteors in the sky vanishing in an instant, passing by Zhang Fan's side, from his fingertips, from under his hair...

Those streaks of light kept circulating.

Finally, Zhang Fan grabbed wildly and pinched one of the streaks of light.

Bang...

That streak of light exploded in Zhang Fan's Soul-Aspect's hand, and the scattered fluorescence formed a vortex, transmitting a terrifying suction like an abyss, sucking his Soul-Aspect in.

In an instant, Zhang Fan's Soul-Aspect seemed to scatter into countless consciousnesses, merging into that vortex, as countless light and shadows surged up with the reversal of the dust-sealed years.

A hundred years ago.

At that time, China's national gates had long been blown open by the foreign powers' sturdy ships and sharp cannons. The Central Plains were in trouble, the common people were suffering, warlords were fighting, and the flames of war spread across the Nine Provinces; everywhere one looked, there were starving people and devastation.

Xijiang Province, Long Hu Shan.

The ancient temple's incense was flourishing, rising in spirals straight to the heavens, as if telling the immortals above about the misfortunes of the human world.

Although it was a chaotic time, the mountain seemed isolated from the world, and the sound of daily scripture chanting still echoed in the mountains.

"Third Brother, Uncle Mingyi and the others should be returning to the mountain tomorrow, right?"

In chaotic times, Daoist priests go down the mountain to save the common people. In such years where people couldn't survive, the Daoist priests of Long Hu Shan would lead disciples down the mountain every so often—first to relieve the poor, second to save the sick and suffering, third to eliminate violence and injustice, and fourth to subdue demons and monsters...

It could be considered as doing a little bit of service for the immortals in heaven, bringing a glimmer of light to this chaotic human world.

The little girl wiped the incense burner while looking down the mountain, her bright eyes filled with curiosity and longing.

She also wanted to be like the elders, senior brothers, and senior sisters in the sect, going down the mountain to save the world.

"What are you thinking about in that little head of yours?"

Just at this moment, a young boy walked over. He was barefoot, wearing only a sleeveless jacket, with a blade of wild grass in his mouth and his hair in a Daoist bun. He didn't look like a Daoist priest; he looked more like a little hooligan mixing in the marketplace.

The boy walked up close and tapped the girl on her little head.

"Third Brother, that hurts!" Zhang Zhang Shijiu covered her head, her eyes glistening, looking as if she were about to cry.

"You don't know what it's like down the mountain."

The boy muttered softly, staring blankly down the mountain.

He had once followed his sect elders down the mountain and had never seen such tragedy. There were dead people everywhere along the road; some who were starving while fleeing would peel the dead to eat...

Some dead bodies had their bellies torn open, and inside were nothing but grass roots and tree bark...

If the mountain was the human world, then down the mountain was purgatory.

"Third Brother, do you think there are really immortals in this world? If there are immortals, why don't they come down to save everyone..." Zhang Zhang Shijiu sat on the stone steps, looking up at the sky with longing.

"Immortals... we cultivate the Dao to become immortals... but are there really immortals in this world?" The boy muttered softly.

At his young age, he had his first doubts about his faith.

Immortals are made by mortals, it's just that mortals lack firm will. But what kind of suffering would it take to find the roots that can become gods and immortals in this red dust that is like purgatory!?

"Third Brother, do you think the fighting down the mountain will reach the mountain?" Zhang Zhang Shijiu tugged at the boy's sleeve, her youthful face showing a trace of confusion and fear.

These days, even on the mountain, one could faintly hear the deafening sound of cannons.

"Don't be afraid, with Third Brother here, even in these chaotic times, Third Brother will protect you safely." The boy hugged Zhang Zhang Shijiu, his eyes full of doting.

The little girl was not just a fellow disciple, but his own younger sister, bound by blood.

In these chaotic times, such a connection could often bring a glimmer of light and hope.

"Tomorrow is the 【Great Putian Putian Dajiao】, Third Brother will definitely be able to get a superior-grade Daoist title." Zhang Zhang Shijiu's eyes shone with a different kind of brilliance, and her gaze toward the boy was slightly worshipful.

At Long Hu Shan, anyone with the surname Zhang had no name before the age of sixteen, only a number ranking for record.

For example, the boy was called Zhang San.

Zhang Zhang Shijiu was his younger sister, ranked nineteenth among their peers.

When they reached sixteen, the mountain would hold the 【Great Putian Putian Dajiao】 to set Daoist titles and erect god statues. Only then could they be considered truly recognized by the ancestors and worthy of being called people of the Long Hu Zhang family.

Thinking of this, Zhang San looked up at the ancient great hall in front of him.

On the altar were enshrined clay god statues, each different, only palm-sized, dense and numerous, arranged on the altar according to rank.

The swirling incense smoke wound above each clay god statue. If one observed with the Soul-Aspect, one could discover that the swirling incense smoke seemed like ancient seal script, revealing names corresponding to each clay god statue.

For example, one name formed by incense was 【Lingzong】, and the clay statue beneath it was 【Great Lingzong Wang】.

Another name formed by incense was 【Zhang Ganxuan】, and the clay statue beneath it was 【Zhang Ganxuan Ling Wang】.

This was the most mysterious 【God-Sealing】 Dao of the Long Hu Zhang family.

Set a Daoist title, erect a god statue; the mortal body receives ten thousand years of incense, and through a thousand years of time, one sees the Jade Emperor.

It is rumored that this method was the path to immortality recorded in the Heavenly Book passed down by the Supreme Old Lord when the Long Hu Shan ancestor Zhang Zhang Daoling attained the Dao at He Mingshan.

Though the mortal body is in the red dust, it erects a god statue suspended in the void.

Morning and night it does not die, a great supernatural power unique through the ages.

Once people of the Zhang family obtain a Daoist title and erect a god statue, they are different; they can receive human incense, be unique in the red dust, and cultivate the Supreme Inverted Law.

Only after obtaining a Daoist title and erecting a god statue are they truly considered people of the Long Hu Zhang family.

Otherwise, at the age of twenty, they must leave the mountain gate and can no longer use the Zhang surname.

Precisely because of this, there were not many true Zhang family members on Long Hu Shan, but they were all first-class figures in the world.

Zhang San's talent was the highest among his peers, so he naturally longed to obtain a superior-grade Daoist title.

On the great hall's altar, there were nine levels of clay god statues enshrined. Naturally, the higher the Daoist title statue, the higher the rank.

Like 【Lingzong】, 【Zhang Ganxuan】, 【Danmu】, etc., they all belonged to superior-grade Daoist titles.

Besides these, the most expensive and honorable among these clay statues was the one enshrined at the very top, unique and alone. Its body was even covered with a piece of red cloth, and the swirling incense revealed an ancient, simple name:

Bai Ren!!!

"Tomorrow is the Great Putian Putian Dajiao." Zhang San muttered softly.

Setting a title and sealing a god was the most important hurdle in life for the Zhang family. Obtaining a Daoist title and erecting a god statue meant they were no longer of the mortal kind...

Their cultivation, their power, and even their existence could not be compared to ordinary Daoist priests.

This was the reason why the Long Hu Zhang family was peerless in the world; the family of the Immortal Sect was no delusion.

For this, Zhang San clenched his fists, his eyes filled with incomparable longing.

Being young, his desire to prove himself had never been so urgent and intense.

The next day, Long Hu Great Hall.

"How is this possible? How is this possible?"

Zhang San's roar echoed in the great hall. Gazes fell upon him one after another—some shocked, some puzzled, some indifferent...

"You have not received the recognition of the Dao Ancestor, you are not granted a Daoist title, you do not erect a god statue, you only get an empty name!"

Below the altar, a Daoist priest in a purple robe shouted in a deep voice.

"Why? Why does the Ancestor abandon me?" Zhang San looked up at the massive hall, looked at the high altar, and let out a roar of unwillingness.

There were seven disciples participating in the 【Great Putian Putian Dajiao】 today. His talent was the highest and his strength the strongest, yet he alone had not received the Ancestor's recognition, was not granted a Daoist title, and did not erect a god statue.

For someone with the surname Zhang, this was like being sentenced to death.

"Before the Ancestor, do not be presumptuous." The purple-robed Daoist scolded ruthlessly.

"Third Brother..." In the crowd, Zhang Zhang Shijiu walked out, a look of worry appearing on her pretty face.

Zhang San was dazed. He looked at the faces in the great hall, then looked at Zhang Zhang Shijiu. A trace of fear arose in his eyes, as if he were afraid to see the heart-piercing disappointment on his beloved sister's face.

Whoosh...

Suddenly, he turned around abruptly, turned and ran, ran out of the Long Hu Great Hall, and sprinted wildly down the mountain.

He didn't know how much time had passed; the wind whistled in his ears, and the forest retreated beside him.

Finally, Zhang San seemed to have exhausted all his strength. He sat slumped by a small stream, looking at his reflection in the water, his fists clenched tightly, pounding the water as if accusing fate of ruthlessness and protesting the Ancestor's injustice.

"Immortals are made by mortals, it's just that mortals lack firm will... If you can't even bear this little setback, how can you talk about the immortal Dao!?"

Just at this moment, a cold voice rang out ghostly in Zhang San's ears.

"Who is it?"

Zhang San turned his head abruptly, looking around, but saw no one—not even a ghost of a shadow.

More latest popular novels at/p>

Clatter...

Suddenly, ripples appeared on the water surface, and Zhang San's reflection changed abruptly, revealing the appearance of a Daoist priest.

The Daoist had graying temples, was handsome and refined, wore a high crown, and had a temperament that stood aloof from the world, but he had never seen him before.

"Who are you?" Zhang San looked at the reflection in the water and subconsciously turned his head to look, but there was no one behind him.

"When water reaches a dead end, it becomes scenery; when a person reaches a dead end, it is rebirth... I will teach you a method. If you can master it, you will roam the world, not beneath Long Hu."

The reflection in the water whispered in a deep voice, its tone boundless.

"A toad yawning, blowing big air." Zhang San sneered.

"Do you know where this is? Long Hu Shan is the ancestral court of the world's Daoist sects. How dare you boast about teaching me?"

"It is not me teaching you, but you teaching yourself."

The reflection in the water changed the subject and suddenly laughed.

"I teach myself?" Zhang San was stunned.

"This method is called a method but is not a method; if treated as true, it is also false. It has always been learned only from immortals; the ancient alchemy scriptures have no oral formulas."

A soft whisper rang out, like a flash of lightning, like a thunderbolt striking.

From that day on, the once-talented Zhang San became obscure. Compared to those disciples who had 【Set a Title and Sealed a God】, he indeed became ordinary.

For this, he even got a name called 【Zhang Zhang Kongming】—the Ancestor did not pity him and granted him an empty name.

Every day, he spent most of his time cultivating alone in the back mountain, with only little Nineteen accompanying him.

Little Nineteen also knew that when she reached twenty, she would have to leave the mountain gate.

Just like that, another three years passed.

The situation in the world became increasingly chaotic, and the corpses down the mountain couldn't even be collected.

There were more and more ownerless grievances in the human world, and the resentment soared to the sky. Even if Long Hu Shan held a transcendence ritual every three or five days, it was just a drop in the bucket.

The speed of transcendence could never keep up with the speed of people dying.

This year, little Nineteen participated in the 【Great Putian Putian Dajiao】, obtained a Daoist title, and was named 【Xian'e】.

Zhang Xian'e, it was considered a pretty good name.

In Zhang San's view, it was much better than Zhang Zhang Kongming; at least little Nineteen had erected a god statue, and her future achievements would be immeasurable.

"Third Brother, I can finally go down the mountain."

On this day, Zhang Xian'e followed the sect elders down the mountain. This was her first time going down the mountain, so she was naturally extremely excited.

"It's very chaotic down the mountain now, don't run around." Zhang San urged.

Three years of bitter cultivation alone, fortunately, he still had this younger sister to accompany him.

"You wait obediently on the mountain, I'll bring you something delicious." Zhang Xian'e was as excited as a little rabbit.

Zhang San's eyes were full of reluctance; next year, he would have to go down the mountain.

Rumble...

The weather in the mountains changed; black clouds surged, and thunder and lightning flashed.

Inside the cold great hall, corpses were laid out, and the surviving little Daoist priests had weak breaths, telling of their tragic experiences.

Their group went down the mountain and entered a village. As a result, that village had long been occupied by nearby bandits. Those villagers didn't dare to speak and had drugged the food...

The Daoist priests of Long Hu Shan naturally ignored these ghostly tricks.

But...

"There were too many of them... they had guns... and cannons... Uncle Master... Uncle Master and the others..."

For a time, the survivors cried uncontrollably. Those bandits were insane, holding the villagers hostage and acting without fear. Under the circumstances of being afraid to act, it was not easy to have a few people survive and bring the corpses back to the mountain.

This was the chaotic world; no one knew who would be the next to die.

People were dying every day—either you died, or he died.

Even with peerless supernatural powers, one could not resist this vast trend.

Rumble...

Just at this moment, outside the great hall, a bolt of thunder tore through the sky, and the flashing electric light stretched the lonely, thin shadow at the door very long.

"Zhang... Zhang San..."

At this moment, gazes turned toward the door one after another.

The young boy stood there, one hand holding the door frame. The door frame made a creaking sound, branding those five finger marks. His trembling gaze searched among the cold corpses, finally landing on little Nineteen, who had already lost her vitality.

The once-lively girl, her blood not yet dry, still had the food she had wrapped in her arms.

"Whoosh..."

The young boy's eyes changed from dazed to sad, gradually denying, and finally emerging with ferocity. He turned and left without looking back, running wildly down the mountain like a madman, letting his fellow disciples shout behind him.

The sun set behind the western mountains, the residual sun like blood.

The dilapidated village was like purgatory, with broken walls and ruins everywhere, scorched earth and ruins everywhere, and the burning houses had not yet been extinguished...

Human heads were hung neatly at the entrance of the village, and the corpses were piled up like a small mountain.

All 168 people in the village, including those bandits and villagers, not a single one survived.

"Zhang Zhang Kongming, have you gone mad?"

At this moment, the Long Hu Shan Daoist priests had already arrived. Looking at this scene that looked like purgatory, their shock was beyond words.

In their sight, Zhang San seemed to walk out of a sea of blood. He held a chipped firewood knife in one hand, and the fingertips of his other hand were glowing with a grim and ferocious thunder light.

"Thunder Method!?"

"You're crazy... you didn't even spare the villagers; they were innocent."

A Long Hu Shan Daoist priest shouted sternly.

"Innocent? In this man-eating chaotic world, where is there still innocence?" Zhang San sneered: "Some people living is a sin."

"Come back with us; whether you live or die depends on your fortune." One of them frowned.

"Go back? Go back where?" Zhang San laughed.

The Ancestor wanted to abandon him, the mountain gate wanted to kill him, and even little Nineteen, who loved him most, had left him...

He suddenly discovered that the world was vast, but there was no longer any place for him.

"Go!"

The Daoist priest sighed, and figures quickly dispersed, forming a siege around Zhang San.

The chipped firewood knife moved, and the extinguished thunder suddenly rose again...

In the sky-filling smoke and dust, the sounds of killing were constant, like a sad song under the weeping residual sun.

Finally, the young boy was defeated after all. No matter how strong he was, he was only one person. The slaughter that had turned his eyes red had already consumed almost all his strength.

However, at this moment, the gazes looking at him were all unbelievable.

No one expected that this Zhang family member who had not obtained a Daoist title or god statue would actually hide such terrifying power.

"A pity for your talent." The Daoist priest sighed.

"Hehe..."

Just at this moment, under everyone's feet, in the blood and dust, the young boy's body trembled, as if using his last strength to try to crawl up.

"Immortals are made by mortals, it's just that mortals lack firm will... I will see for the next hundred years... who can become a god or immortal in this red dust..."

Rumble...

As soon as the words fell, a terrifying aura soared from the young boy's body, like a great fire dyeing the blue sky.

Everyone's expressions changed suddenly. Looking up, they saw the young boy's Soul-Aspect leave his body, actually splitting apart in full view of everyone.

One was bright and brilliant, one was ferocious and monstrous, and one was grim and evil...

"Soul-Splitting Great Method, Three Corpses Fate-Illumination!? Zhang San... you... you..."

The eyes of the Daoist priests trembled; they simply couldn't believe their eyes. As disciples of Long Hu Shan, how could they not recognize this peerless method and supreme profound skill!?

"From today on, I am not called Zhang San... and I don't have the surname Zhang..."

"We are..."

Just at this moment, three terrifying Soul-Aspects hung in the sky, as if descending into the mortal world. The magnificent and terrifying voice was like a death warrant, echoing over the scorched earth, echoing in everyone's hearts.

"Three Corpses Daoist!!"

(End of chapter)