[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-pure-yang":3,"chapter-pure-yang-pure-yang-chapter-519":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Pure Yang!",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2267619,4427,"Chapter 519","pure-yang-chapter-519",519,"\u003Cp>Beyond the pass, winter’s cold locks the northern land in ice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A towering, wild mountain loomed, its serpentine road winding upward in a zigzag pattern like a gray-white giant snake clinging to its flanks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In this deep, ancient forest, at the most exposed, wind-lashed shadowed slope, stood an ancient building…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Its square silhouette, flat roof, and old iron-framed green-painted windows—many panes blurred or shattered—were overrun by dead vines frozen solid by ice, stiff as necrotic blood vessels and tendons hanging from the walls.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It seemed a ghost abandoned by time, radiating the outdated, heavy aura of the 1970s and 80s; beside the cement pillars at its entrance hung a heavily rusted iron sign, nearly buried under thick snow, barely revealing five blurred characters:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Natural Research Institute!!!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The wind howled through the building’s empty courtyard, whipping up snow dust, deepening the desolation and mystery.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At its core, inside a vast domed greenhouse, life thrived abundantly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the weak winter sunlight, gathered and amplified by the glass dome, became bright and warm, evenly spilling over every corner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That boy has crossed the pass.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, a pure yet alluring voice echoed amid the lush flora and strange rocks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before a rock garden stood a woman, tall and slender, clad in a form-fitting black leather jacket that accentuated her graceful curves; her long black hair was tied into a neat, tidy bun, revealing a smooth, full forehead and a long, pale neck.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Someone from the Zhang family…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly, an aged voice arose from behind the jagged rock garden; the flourishing plants trembled slightly, as if concealing a figure tending to these unremarkable green shoots.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sui, what was that young man’s name again?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A brief pause, then the aged voice spoke again, calm, as if asking idly, its focus still mostly on the green vines.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Zhang Fan!” Jiang Sui said firmly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That day, Zhang Fan had dialed the number in that Nokia phone—the woman before him answered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ah, yes, I remember now—this young man is…” The aged voice trailed off, then paused again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He is a disciple of the Southern Zhang!” Jiang Sui reminded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course—I recall now. The Southern Zhang… he is a descendant of [Zhang Nantian].”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Zhang Nantian… he was a fine young man indeed.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The aged voice sighed, as if lost in memory, as if mourning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Sui said nothing, but a strange light flickered in her clear eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eighty years ago, after the Daoist Great Calamity, the incense of Longhu Mountain split north and south.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The first patriarch of the Northern Zhang was Zhang Beiming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the Southern Zhang…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The first patriarch of the Southern Zhang was Zhang Nantian.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After Zhang Nantian, it passed to Zhang Tiansheng; Zhang Tiansheng passed it to Zhang Lingzong; Zhang Lingzong passed it to Zhang Fan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This is the fourth generation of Southern Zhang’s lineage.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Find a time to have him come over for a visit.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The aged voice spoke again, as if stirred by ripples of time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Sui pursed her lips and couldn’t help saying, “Director, Zhang Nantian has been dead for many years.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She paused, then added, “The entire Southern Zhang line is gone.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is that so? Did that young man die so early?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Time truly is a heartless thief.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What a pity… back then, he once ate my sugar pills.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The aged voice drifted softly, tinged with nostalgia and regret.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“By the way, where are my sugar pills?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Director, you can’t eat sugar anymore—you’re already in Stage Two diabetes.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jiang Sui’s delicate brows furrowed, her clear eyes filled with concern: “You should take your medicine.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As she spoke, her gaze fell on the bottles and jars on the nearby cart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m old now. I suppose I’m close to death.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Director, what nonsense are you speaking? You’re not even three hundred years old—how could you die?” Jiang Sui snapped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Everyone dies. How could a mere ordinary person like me live to three hundred?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Last year I fell, lay in bed for two months, and my body hasn’t been the same since.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The aged voice droned on, as if speaking to himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Around the rock garden, mist swirled thicker than elsewhere in the greenhouse, nearly forming a faint white fog that drifted slowly—and in the haze, a figure emerged…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sui, go and fetch that…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Zhang Fan!” Jiang Sui reminded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes—letting such a young man die out there would make this world far less interesting.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“After Zhang San, no one has practiced this pill-making art in many years.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly, a tall, aged figure slowly emerged from the dense foliage, the surrounding branches and leaves swaying gently without wind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Linji Province, Liangcang Village.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beyond the Heishui Hills, after racing eight hundred li, human presence grew sparse, until they reached this village all but forgotten by the outside world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Remote and desolate, all around stretched snow-covered fields and bare mountains; the village held barely two or three dozen households, their low, scattered houses silent except for monthly market days, as if time itself flowed slower here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Lord, six hundred li ahead lies the Changbai Mountains.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wang Tao parked the car outside the village in the snow, refusing to enter, lest the engine draw unwanted attention.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He followed Zhang Fan, puzzled—why stop here?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Just in case.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan scanned the lifeless village, his gaze calm, his voice low but sharp with caution.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fortune comes from intuition; disaster arises from divine awareness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since killing Fan Lingzhou, a faint, oppressive weight had settled in his chest—he sensed this final leg of the journey would not be easy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sky had just turned dusk.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The last sliver of daylight struggled and sank behind the distant mountains; the village was swiftly swallowed by deep twilight and silence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Truly, the light fades, and roosters and dogs hear each other,” Zhang Fan murmured as he walked through the village.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every door and window was shut; faint lights glowed inside, no voices rose—only from a nearby courtyard came a few broken, wind-torn barks from a large dog, amplifying the still, lifeless desolation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Follow me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan walked straight ahead, navigating the snow-laden dirt paths of the village.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He finally stopped before a lone, isolated house at the village’s farthest, most secluded corner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The yard was more dilapidated than the others—its earthen walls cracked, its wooden door crooked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hm!?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the gate, Wang Tao frowned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A pungent odor drifted faintly from within, seeping into his nostrils.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It smelled like dried cured meat gone rancid, mixed with the stench of a corpse soaked in formaldehyde and the icy, chemical tang of preservatives—deeply unpleasant.\u003C\u002Fp>",1090,"2026-06-19T21:05:46.332Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","e630cec22968bbc776794a4a2bd6f7412dc8cff21d1d4450a582642a168d8131","pure-yang-chapter-520","pure-yang-chapter-518",520,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fpure-yang-cover.jpg"]