Chapter 310

On Long Hu Shan, the great tribulation of the Daoist Sect. The family of gods and immortals, North and South transmitted separately.

More than thirty years ago, the Southern Zhang was destroyed, and since then it has become a swan song.

Who could have expected that this lineage of incense is not broken, and there are still descendants in the world.

"Descendant of the Southern Zhang... descendant of the Southern Zhang..."

Zhang Wuming's eyes tremble, staring fixedly at Zhang Fan.

At this moment, the waves in his heart suddenly rise, finally difficult to suppress, difficult to calm.

He never dreamed that the person he met by chance, the guest he met in a foreign land, was a descendant of the Southern Zhang.

For Zhang Wuming, this identity is more thrilling and unbelievable than being a descendant of the Wu Wei Sect.

"Your expression now is a bit interesting."

Zhang Fan looks at Zhang Wuming's expression, his mouth lifting slightly, laughing happily.

Even if he has eight hundred heart eyes, he is at a loss at this moment; such a Zhang Wuming seems more pleasing to the eye.

"Is it too late for me to leave now?" Zhang Wuming laughs bitterly.

Zhang Fan's identity is more sensitive than he imagined.

"I'm afraid it's too late."

"Fate... is really interesting."

As he speaks, Zhang Fan lifts his hand and pats Zhang Wuming on the shoulder.

"Descendant of the Southern Zhang, come in."

Just then, the hoarse and old voice comes from Huangpi Cave again; at the cave entrance, the firelight in the mouths of the two stone beasts sways.

Huang Huang Jiumei looks at Zhang Fan, dazed.

That cave, even the descendants of their demons who have become demons cannot easily step into it on weekdays.

"Zhang Fan..."

In the distance, Li Li Miaoyin suddenly calls out; she frowns slightly, subconsciously shaking her head, a trace of worry in her beautiful eyes.

Zhang Fan nods, indicating it's okay; he pauses slightly and walks into the pitch-black ancient cave.

Drip... drip...

In the ancient cave, the sound of cold water dripping is endless, coming from the depths.

Zhang Fan feels his way in the dark, walking further and further, vaguely smelling a faint fragrance, which he cannot say is very special, but it is a smell he has never smelled before, very much like the fireworks in the country temples in the past.

Finally, a wisp of dim yellow firelight appears in front, two candle flames the size of soybeans jumping.

Zhang Fan stops, and with the help of the dim candlelight, he sees two figures sitting on dilapidated cushions.

One of them is an old man, his figure hunched, thin as skin and bone, his cold luster staring straight at Zhang Fan, as if observing him from the moment he stepped into the ancient cave.

The other is an old woman, wearing a floral cotton-padded jacket, with a large red flower on her head, looking quite gorgeous, the thick powder on her face like putty, covering the wrinkles like a peeling wall.

Such two old people, not looking at the dress, look like the grandpas and grandmas dancing in the square in Zhang Fan's community, plain and ordinary, and cannot even feel the slightest aura of spirits and demons, and even less like practitioners.

However, Zhang Fan knows that the more this is the case, the more profound the cultivation.

In the ordinary, the micro-light is immortal.

In the ordinary, the flying dust is endless.

Perhaps, cultivation is to practice from ordinary to extraordinary, and then from extraordinary back to ordinary.

Boom—

Suddenly, a deafening sound comes from behind the two old figures.

Zhang Fan looks up, only to find that behind them stand two large urns, the lids sealed with yellow mud, each with a yellow talisman pasted on it, looking like they have some years.

"Refining the demon body!?" Zhang Fan's heart moves slightly.

Spirits possessing human bodies become demons, but their original bodies are still their greatest reliance and also their greatest weakness.

Just like Old Yu back then, his carp body was destroyed by an expert from Mount Qingcheng Mountain in Sichuan, and since then his cultivation has been difficult to improve.

Because of this, there is a Daoist method among demons that can refine the demon body, like refining alchemy in a furnace, like refining a sword in fire, and finally, in the body aperture, transform again.

That process is mysterious, and it is not something ordinary people can have the chance to see.

Thinking of this, Zhang Fan cannot help but look twice more; if he is not wrong, those two large urns should be the original bodies of these two old demons...

Two large yellow-skinned rats.

"Young man, have you seen enough?"

Just then, the hoarse and old voice sounds again, pulling Zhang Fan's thoughts back.

He lowers his head and sees the thin old man staring straight at him.

"Junior is perverted... lost composure!" Zhang Fan laughs dryly.

"Don't be too harsh on young people..."

The old woman whispers, her eyes looking at Zhang Fan with a daze.

"You look just like him."

"Who?" Zhang Fan is stunned.

"Three Corpse Daoist!" The old man says solemnly.

He stares at Zhang Fan deeply, a trace of reminiscence flashing in his eyes, his expression becoming more and more unnatural.

"Have the two seniors seen the Three Corpse Daoist?" Zhang Fan cannot help but ask.

Thinking about it, demon cultivation is more distant than human years; after all, it takes a long time for them to become demons and humans.

"At that time, we had not yet become demons..." The old woman murmurs softly.

She is called Huang Qiaoniang, and the old man beside her is called Huang Huang Shulang.

Many years ago, they were just two ordinary yellow-skinned rats in these Ten Thousand Great Mountains, drifting in the mountains and fields, wandering in caves, living a carefree life.

Until one day...

"Until one day, that man came..." The old woman's eyes flash with reminiscence.

"That man's shelf was really big... he came alone, and the Ten Thousand Great Mountains were alarmed from top to bottom," the old man sighs.

Even if time is like water, even if years are like a shuttle, he still remembers the grand scene of that year.

Ten Thousand Great Mountains, demon mountain ancient caves, thousands of spirits and demons gathered, as if facing a great enemy, as if facing a god, just because that man stepped into this dead end.

Huang Huang Shulang's eyes are dazed, hiding a trace of yearning and awe in his turbid eyes.

Since that day, he has never seen such a man again, his shelf bigger than the sky, his spirit deeper than the sea.

That day, even the old Demon Chief, who was dying and had few days left, walked out to welcome the man's arrival.

"He looked like a dilapidated Daoist, drifting in the rivers and lakes, drifting with the wind... I thought at the time, is such a person really the world's number one?"

The old man's gaze becomes more and more dazed.

Yesterday's youth, as if in the present, just before his eyes.

He seems to have returned to that sunny afternoon, hiding in the wild grass, looking at the man who was bearded but still spirited, with light in his eyes.

"If he is not the world's number one, who is the world's number one!?" The old woman murmurs softly.

Suddenly, the large red flower on her head shakes gently, and bursts of pollen float and scatter, falling in the ancient cave, floating in front of Zhang Fan.

Whoosh...

In an instant, Zhang Fan's soul shakes, and he seems to see countless light shadows jumping and flying.

The sun is high, the sunshine is bright.

In the depths of the green mountains, streaks of demon energy crisscross and surround, as if a great army is pressing on the border, like a siege, not to mention the spirits hidden under the mountains and in the wild grass.

Ten Thousand Great Mountains, demons and ghosts, fully thousands of them, all dormant here.

Such a grand momentum, but no one dares to act rashly, only able to look up at the mountain hall with awe.

There, a lonely and thin figure sits, wearing a wide Daoist robe, the huge figure opposite is like a small hill, unscrupulously emitting terrifying demon energy, that absolute demon energy exceeding any side.

The sun shines on that huge figure, but the shadow reflected on the rock wall is a giant elephant.

"Three Corpse Daoist, even if you have supernatural powers, you may not be able to kill all the demons in my Ten Thousand Great Mountains."

Suddenly, a deafening roar comes from the mountain peak, stinging the eardrums of all the spirits and demons.

The old Demon Chief spoke; although he was old, his ferocity remained, and one figure after another bowed their heads.

"You go! My Ten Thousand Great Mountains have no wine for you to drink," the old Demon Chief issued an eviction order.

"A bosom friend is not in a thousand cups of wine, even an empty cup of tea can make one drunk."

Just then, that lonely and thin figure spoke, shaking the empty cup in his hand, his mouth lifting slightly.

"Old Elephant, how does the taste of this cup of tea of mine?"

"Tea? Where did the tea come from?" The old Demon Chief looks at the shaking empty cup and says solemnly.

"Now it's here."

That lonely and thin figure whispers, slowly putting down the empty cup in his hand, a point landing, the sound of gold and stone rising.

Boom—

Suddenly, a terrifying aura covers the sky and earth, pressing down on the mountains.

All the spirits and demons changed color, looking up one after another; in an instant, the aura became more terrifying, traversing north and south, continuous east and west, heaven could not see, earth could not see, the sun and moon were empty, the stars were terrified.

Among them, it seems there is only one person, and there can only be one person, dominating heaven and earth, unique.

Boom—

The next moment, one soul after another soared into the sky, actually flying uncontrollably in the same direction, flying to the empty cup in front of that man.

Ten Thousand Great Mountains, demons and ghosts hiding, thousands of demons and ghosts, in an instant, became the tea fragrance of that empty cup.

That man sat there, and already pressed the Ten Thousand Great Mountains to bow their heads.

Ask the mountains of the world, is this peak the highest?

Standing alone, who is the enemy of the heroes of the world?

"World's number one, truly the world's number one!"

On the mountain peak, the old Demon Chief's voice was dry, hiding unspeakable fear and shock.

Boom—

Light and shadow vanish, like dust falling.

Only the shock remains, lingering in everyone's heart.

"Three Corpse Refining God... that man is really overbearing, swallowing all the spirits and demons of the Ten Thousand Great Mountains in one cup..." The old man sighs leisurely.

That day, his soul was taken from the air, and he has never forgotten it to this day.

"Not long after that day, the old Demon Chief died in depression."

The old woman whispers, looking at Zhang Fan with an increasingly complex expression.

"Your methods just now are really like his."

"It's just that you are the light of a firefly, and he is the brilliance of the bright moon."

Zhang Fan hears this, but does not refute; such an evaluation is already very high, after all, the one being compared is the former world's number one expert.

Moreover, Zhang Fan only swallowed the demons of Huangpi Cave.

But the Three Corpse Daoist back then took all the spirits and demons of the Ten Thousand Great Mountains.

One person presses the mountains, the height is judged.

"Years are really magical..." The old woman sighs.

"Life and death, in the years, bloom side by side!"

Years are slow, hiding both decay and rebirth.

The old woman looks at Zhang Fan; she seems to see the cycle of years, and there is crystal flashing in her eyes.

Once upon a time, she was as fresh as Zhang Fan.

At this moment, perhaps she is sighing at the ruthlessness of the years, or pitying the immortality without hope.

"Senior..."

Zhang Fan calls softly, pulling the old woman's thoughts back.

"At my age, there is no need for such a posture," the old man glances sideways and says indifferently.

"When you get old, you always think of many things from before."

"After all, years are used for reminiscence."

As he speaks, a smile appears on the old woman's face, and the powder like putty falls and scatters.

"Little ghost of the Southern Zhang, did you take a fancy to the Nine Girls in our cave?" The old woman changes the subject and suddenly asks.

"People of the same path," Zhang Fan pauses slightly and says.

"Do humans speak so officially?"

The old woman turns her head to look at the old man.

"Hypocrisy is their nature," the old man nods.

"Third kid relied on Bai He Guan, but Nine Girls hooked up with your line," the old woman shakes her head.

"What does senior mean..."

"To tell the truth, our attitude has always been very clear; the little cubs below can form cliques to get benefits, but if they really want us to send people and exert effort..."

"There's no door!"

"..."

"Worthy of being an old demon," Zhang Fan sighs silently in his heart.

It turns out that the things in the cave, these two old yellow-skinned rats know like the back of their hands; no matter who relies on whom, as long as the benefits are in place, shouting slogans and expressing loyalty is fine, but if they really want to exert effort, there is no door.

In other words, this is called maintaining neutrality and playing both sides.

"I understand senior's meaning; in fact, I mean the same thing," Zhang Fan nods.

He also didn't want to pull Huangpi Cave onto his boat, as long as they don't help, and stand on the side of Bai He Guan.

As for Li Li Changgeng, he wants to be a sucker, and Zhang Fan is happy to see it.

Furthermore, he has already formed a good relationship with Huang Huang Jiumei; one day, when Huangpi Cave changes dynasties, it may not necessarily bear good fruits.

"Little ghost, did you practice Three Corpses Shining on Fate?"

Suddenly, the old man opens his mouth, staring fixedly at Zhang Fan, his brow slightly wrinkled.

"It counts and it doesn't count," Zhang Fan ponders slightly.

Strictly speaking, he only practiced the 【Three Corpses Shining on Fate】 division method, which is the introductory skill, as for quiet practice, it is not necessarily.

"You have deep roots in this method," the old woman sighs.

"Back then, someone from your Southern Zhang lineage once entered the Ten Thousand Great Mountains several times to explore the secrets of this method."

"Southern Zhang lineage?" Zhang Fan's heart moves slightly, and he cannot help but ask: "Who?"

"Divine Diviner Zhang Tiansheng!" The old man spits out a name.

"You should know him."

"Yes, he is my grandfather," Zhang Fan nods.

"So you are his descendant," the old woman realizes.

Speaking of this, the old woman pauses slightly, shakes her head and says: "You really shouldn't have practiced this method."

"Why?" Zhang Fan asks subconsciously.

"Back then, Zhang Tiansheng walked through the Ten Thousand Great Mountains and had some discoveries; he once visited my Huangpi Cave, and when discussing the Nine Arts, he said..."

"Among the Nine Great Inner Alchemy Methods, except for the Ninth Method that has never appeared, the most difficult to practice is Three Corpses Shining on Fate."

"Do you know why?"

"Why?" Zhang Fan shakes his head, indicating he doesn't know.

"Three Corpses Shining on Fate is different from other methods; it looks like an end, but it's actually a beginning," the old woman sighs.

"What do you mean?" Zhang Fan's brow wrinkles.

"Zhang Tiansheng left a sentence." The old man looks coldly at Zhang Fan, his old lips opening.

"When the work is done, the day of tribulation comes!"

"Beware! Beware!"

(End of chapter)