Chapter 519: Fourth Generation of South Zhang! Eighth Master of the Coffin-Lifting Society

The borderlands are bitter with winter, the northern lands locked in ice.

In the depths of a towering, vast mountain range, a winding mountain road—shaped like the character 'Z'—snaked upward like a gray-white giant serpent, clinging to the mountain's body in a difficult ascent.

Right here in the deep mountains and old forests, where the wind and snow raged most fiercely on the shaded side, a dilapidated, ancient building was hidden away...

It had a square outline and a flat roof. Its windows were of the old-fashioned iron-framed, green-painted variety, many of the panes blurred or broken. The walls were covered in dead vines, frozen solid by the ice and snow, hanging there stiffly like necrotic blood vessels and tendons.

It stood like a ghost forgotten by time, exuding a sense of the stale, heavy, and clumsy atmosphere of the 1970s or 80s. Beside a concrete pillar at the entrance hung a severely rusted iron doorplate, almost entirely covered by thick snow, with only five blurred characters barely discernible:

Natural Research Institute!!!

The wind and snow wailed as they swept through the building's empty courtyard, swirling up snow foam from the ground, adding to the sense of desolation and mystery.

In the deepest part, inside a massive domed greenhouse, however, life was flourishing.

The winter sun, even if weak, became bright and warm after being concentrated by the glass dome, casting its light evenly into every corner.

"That brat has already entered the pass."

At this moment, a pure yet soft and alluring voice echoed among the lush flowers, plants, and strange rocks.

Standing before a rockery was a woman. She was tall and slender, wearing a form-fitting black leather jacket that accentuated her graceful, exquisite curves. Her jet-black hair was pulled into a simple, neat bun at the back of her head, revealing a smooth, full forehead and a long, fair neck.

"The Zhang family..."

Suddenly, an aged voice came from behind the craggy rockery. The lush flowers and plants swayed slightly; a figure seemed to be hidden there, tending to these unremarkable green plants.

"Sui Sui, what was that young man's name again?"

After a slight pause, the aged voice spoke again, its tone peaceful, as if it were merely a casual question, with most of its attention still focused on the green vines.

"Zhang Fan!" Jiang Sui replied solemnly.

That day, when Zhang Fan dialed the number on the Nokia, it was this woman who answered.

"Right, I remember now. This young man is..." The aged voice trailed off halfway through, pausing once more.

"He is a disciple of South Zhang!" Jiang Sui reminded him.

"Right, I remember now. South Zhang... He is the descendant of 【Zhang Nantian】..."

"Zhang Nantian, that was also a decent young man."

The aged voice let out a sigh, as if reminiscing, as if mourning.

Jiang Sui remained silent, though a strange light flickered in her clear eyes.

Eighty years ago, after the Great Daoist Calamity, the incense of Long Hu Mountain was passed down separately to the North and South.

The first head of the North Zhang family was named Zhang Beiming.

As for South Zhang...

The first head of the South Zhang family was Zhang Nantian.

After Zhang Nantian, it was passed to Zhang Tiansheng, then to Zhang Lingzong, and finally to Zhang Fan.

This was the four-generation lineage of South Zhang.

"You could find a time to have him come over for a sit."

The aged voice spoke again, as if ripples had been stirred in time.

Jiang Sui pursed her lips and couldn't help but say, "Dean, Zhang Nantian has been dead for many years."

At this point, Jiang Sui paused slightly before adding, "The entire South Zhang lineage is gone."

"Is that so? Did that young man die so early?"

"Time is truly a ruthless thief!"

"What a pity... Back then, he even ate my sugar pills."

The aged voice echoed hollowly, carrying a trace of sentimentality and sighing.

"By the way, where are my sugar pills?"

"Dean, you cannot eat sugar anymore. You have Type 2 diabetes," Jiang Sui said, her brow furrowing slightly, her clear eyes filled with concern. "You need to take your medicine."

She gestured toward the bottles and jars on a small cart nearby.

"I'm old. It seems I'm nearing death myself."

"Dean, what nonsense are you spouting? You aren't even three hundred years old yet; how could you die?" Jiang Sui said, displeased.

"As long as one is human, one will die. Besides, how could an ordinary person like me live to be three hundred?"

"I took a fall last year and was bedridden for two months; my body isn't what it used to be."

The aged voice became rambling, as if speaking to itself.

Around the rockery, water vapor swirled, thicker than anywhere else in the greenhouse, slowly flowing and turning into a faint white mist. Within it, a figure emerged...

"Sui Sui, go and pick up that..."

"Zhang Fan!" Jiang Sui reminded him.

"Right. If a young man like that dies out there, this world will be much less interesting."

"After all, since Zhang San, no one has practiced this alchemy method for many years."

Suddenly, an aged yet upright figure slowly emerged, walking out from among the lush plants. The branches and leaves around him swayed without wind.

Liangcang Village, Jilin Province.

After crossing the Black Water Hills and raiding eight hundred li along the way, the population became increasingly sparse, finally arriving at this village that had been almost forgotten by the outside world.

It was remote, surrounded by snow-covered fields and bare mountains. There were only twenty or thirty households in the village, with low, sparse houses. Except for the fixed market days each month, outsiders rarely visited, and it was so quiet that time seemed to flow with extra sluggishness.

"Sect Master, six hundred li further ahead is the Changbai Mountain territory."

Wang Tao parked the car in the snow outside the village. He didn't drive in, to avoid the engine noise attracting unnecessary attention.

He followed behind Zhang Fan, looking puzzled as to why they were stopping in a place like this.

"Just in case!"

Zhang Fan's gaze swept across the deathly silent village, his eyes calm, his voice low but carrying a trace of condensed vigilance.

Good fortune brings spiritual insight; calamity stirs the divine sense.

Ever since he killed Fan Lingzhou, a vague sense of oppression had been rising in his heart. He could feel that this final stretch of the road would not be easy.

At this moment, the sky was just turning dark.

The last trace of daylight struggled to sink behind the distant mountains, and the village was quickly swallowed by deep twilight and silence.

"Truly a place of silent light and the sounds of chickens and dogs," Zhang Fan sighed.

Right now, every household had its doors and windows tightly shut. Occasionally, a light could be seen, but no human voices could be heard. Only the barking of a few large dogs in a nearby courtyard, torn apart by the cold wind, served to highlight the deathly stillness and desolation.

"Follow me."

Zhang Fan walked straight ahead, weaving through the dirt roads of the village where the snow had yet to be cleared.

Finally, he stopped in front of an isolated courtyard house in the most remote corner at the edge of the village.

This courtyard was even more dilapidated than the surrounding ones, with mottled earthen walls and a crooked wooden door.

"Hmm!?"

As soon as they reached the entrance, Wang Tao frowned.

A pungent odor drifted faintly from the courtyard, drilling into his nostrils.

The smell was like long-dried cured meat, carrying the rancid odor of oxidized fats, yet also like a corpse soaked in formaldehyde, mixed with the cold, fishy stench of chemical agents. It was extremely unpleasant.

The smell was like bacon that had been air-dried for a long time, carrying the rancid smell of deteriorated grease, and also like a corpse soaked in formalin, mixed with the cold fishy smell of chemical agents, which was extremely uncomfortable.