[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-pure-yang":3,"chapter-pure-yang-pure-yang-chapter-88":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},2267188,4427,"Chapter 88","pure-yang-chapter-88",88,"\u003Cp>The Divine Splitting Method was passed down from the supreme wonder of all under heaven, the Three Corpses Mirroring Fate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only its reputation has been whispered through the ages; its mysterious techniques have never appeared in the mortal world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Among the nine legendary internal alchemy methods, each is merely legend—extremely difficult to cultivate, and even the offshoot arts derived from them rank among the pinnacle of the world’s techniques; even a genius with celestial potential finds it impossible to grasp even a fraction of their mystery.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For instance, the Mind Demon Inducement, descended from the Divine Demon Embryo, fell into the hands of Zhenwu Mountain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhuo Kuangsheng was Chu Chaoran’s younger brother—what extraordinary talent did he possess? Yet he remained trapped within demonic tribulation, unable to master this method, unable to transcend, and imprisoned himself in a desolate cave behind the southern courtyard of Nanxuan Palace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Divine Splitting Method is no different.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the Mind Demon Inducement manipulates thoughts, then the Divine Splitting Method manipulates the Nascent Soul—far more perilous and unfathomable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Legend says that if one masters the Divine Splitting Method, one can split one’s own Nascent Soul—into two, into three… possibly more,” Bai Buran whispered low.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“As long as one fragment remains unextinguished, the person is immortal.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Divine Splitting Method… an immortality technique?” Zhang Fan murmured softly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It is merely a byproduct born from the pursuit of eternal life,” Bai Buran said with hidden meaning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How many seekers of immortality have there been since ancient times? How many ever achieved it?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Along this path, Daoist sects have produced countless brilliant minds who toiled endlessly, striving for longevity, leaving behind numerous attempts and methods.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some of these paths are dead ends; others remain unfinished, requiring successors to continue forging ahead—some may spend their entire lives only to discover at the end that it is still a dead end.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But so what? The path to immortality is inherently about finding life within death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Boss, has anyone ever mastered the Divine Splitting Method?” Zhang Fan pressed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Nascent Soul is the most delicate thing—add or subtract even a hair’s breadth, and the difference is heaven and earth,” Bai Buran shook his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A slightest tremor in the Nascent Soul, a moment’s carelessness, and one may become a vegetable—or perish outright, body and Dao both destroyed, right before your eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not to mention splitting the Nascent Soul into two, even three, four…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Even if the Divine Splitting Method truly exists, it may merely be an incomplete theory.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bai Buran picked up his thermos, gently blew away the tea leaves floating on top, took a small sip, then lifted his eyelids slightly, gazing at Zhang Fan with hidden meaning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What have you been doing lately?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bai Buran’s voice pulled Zhang Fan back from his thoughts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I asked what you’ve been cultivating recently—why ask such a question?” Bai Buran said gravely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I… I’ve just been reading some Daoist scriptures and elixir texts, having some thoughts,” Zhang Fan replied vaguely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“A cultivator must hold reverence.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bai Buran placed his thermos on the table and said solemnly: “The Dao is vast, with three thousand methods—everyone seeks to choose one path to immortality, gazing toward the boundless Pure Yang Dao…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But some lack even a sliver of reverence, and tread a deviant path.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Here, Bai Buran paused, glanced at the closed office door, then continued: “You cannot say these paths are wrong—but they are undeniably dangerous, especially since human hearts are fickle, and one easily loses oneself on such paths…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Boss, you mean…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wuwei Sect!?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan frowned, two figures flashing in his mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hai Zhu Wang Tao, Wu Ma Wu Qilu… they both came from Wuwei Sect, from the Thirteen Zodiacs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These two possessed undeniable talent and strength on the Dao path, yet their ways were too deviant, leaning perilously close to heresy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ancestral Master granted me the method of eternal life: three parts heart, seven parts fate,” Bai Buran gazed at Zhang Fan with hidden meaning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Many begin on the same path—but it is so long, stretching beyond sight…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Human hearts change; the conscious spirit grows restless, giving rise to countless delusions—especially among the supremely intelligent, who often stumble upon strange, perilous paths…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Here, Bai Buran paused slightly: “Zhang Fan, I know you have some talent…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“On this path, talent is never a guiding light—don’t go tinkering on your own… like those in Wuwei Sect.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bai Buran’s words carried grave warning—he sensed Zhang Fan’s current explorations had brushed against some taboo.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I understand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Boom…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, thunder cracked outside the window, lightning slicing through the night, cutting off their conversation and drawing both Zhang Fan and Bai Buran’s gaze outward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The weather’s about to change,” Zhang Fan murmured, rising to leave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At Yujing City’s South Station.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A high-speed train from Shangjing City slowly pulled in; as the doors opened, passengers streamed out—except for one door, where only a tall figure emerged slowly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was a middle-aged man, powerfully built, nearly 1.8 meters tall, with a full beard, his face rugged, one eye covered by an eyepatch, a thin scar running along his right eyelid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perhaps it was this aura of “keep away” that made him the only passenger to exit from that door.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ten years gone—why does it rain the moment I return?” The one-eyed man looked up at the sky, murmuring: “Not a good omen.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Speaking, he set down his backpack, bent to rummage, then pulled out a crumpled, slightly yellowed photograph.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The photo showed two people, large and small—the larger was unmistakably Zhang Lingzong, much younger, skin unusually pale; beside him stood a child, eleven or twelve, slightly chubby, facial features faintly resembling Zhang Fan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Zhang Fan… this kid’s over twenty now, probably changed a lot,” the one-eyed man grinned, flipping the photo over—on the blank back, a handwritten address:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hongfu Garden, Building 73, Unit Jia, Room 903.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hongfu Garden…” The one-eyed man murmured the name, then casually shoved the crumpled photo into his pocket.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In Yujing City, Fangshan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Black clouds crossed the sky, obscuring the moon; distant thunder rumbled. A flash of lightning split the heavens, illuminating a dirt temple hidden in the mountains.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother, what are you doing here?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mountain wind rose; Xiong Qianxing braved the gale and arrived before the temple, standing at Xiong Qianshan’s door.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’ve got guts, daring to act inside the clan ancestral hall?” Xiong Qianshan didn’t turn around.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother, you know already?” Xiong Qianxing’s face darkened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hadn’t expected his recent actions to be discovered so quickly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother, it was Xiong Ba…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Shut up,” Xiong Qianshan snapped. “I’ll settle accounts with you later.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he spoke, Xiong Qianshan stared unblinkingly into the abandoned temple—within the dim flickering light, a deep ancient well lay hidden, its water boiling, surging outward, muddy yellow, accompanied by strange sounds, as if someone were weeping.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This… is the Yellow Springs!?” Xiong Qianxing’s eyes flashed with sudden realization, exclaiming aloud.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He never imagined Xiong Qianshan had found a Yellow Springs here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Nanyang Strange Records once recorded: behind Xitu Temple in Nanyang’s west, there was a spring whose water was muddy as earth, emitting strange sounds; at midnight, the water boiled, and strange beings emerged—utterly bizarre.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the city’s south, a scholar, in his second year of marriage, lost his wife and was heartbroken—he moved into Xitu Temple and stayed half a year.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One night, the scholar, missing his deceased wife, came to the back mountain and saw the spring—its water boiling, his wife stepping out from within.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The scholar rejoiced; they met as before, pouring out their hearts, their love profound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From then on, the scholar came every night to the spring to meet his wife; within half a month, he aged more than ten years.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One night, the scholar returned to the spring—his wife appeared, when suddenly the temple bell rang violently, like a lion’s roar shaking the forest; his wife screamed in agony, turned, and vanished—the scholar collapsed instantly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he awoke, he was back in the temple; the high monks of Xitu Temple told him the spring was the Yellow Springs, connecting to the netherworld, allowing communication with the dead—but any mortal who drew near would have their lifespan drained.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Indeed, when the scholar looked into the mirror, his hair was white as an old man’s; from then on, he lived permanently in Xitu Temple, sweeping and cleaning, and the spring was never seen again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Yellow Springs is a passage to the netherworld.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Legend says the largest Yellow Springs lies beneath Mount Tai in the east, connecting directly to the underworld.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother, this is a perfect place to refine ghosts!” Xiong Qianxing’s eyes gleamed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Yellow Springs is a supreme Yin mystery, bridging life and death, the netherworld.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For Daoists of Yin Mountain Sect, it was an irreplaceable treasure—especially for their core art.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Soul Extraction, Ghost Refinement!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Xiong family’s ancestral art was the Ghost Refinement Technique, requiring corpses, spirit bones, corpse oil—using the Nascent Soul as a guide, summoning Yin and gathering souls to forge ghostly forms within the shell’s cavity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These ghosts were no wandering spirits—they were Daoist soldiers, capable of breaking true Yang, devouring Dao arts, fiercely malevolent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>According to Xiong family tradition, Ghost Refinement Technique has five ranks: Ghost Servant, Ghost Soldier, Ghost Fiend, Ghost General, and Ghost Commander. A single Ghost Servant can suppress a Daoist adept.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the Ghost Commander—that was a terrifying entity even high priests dreaded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother, our Xiong family has had only one Yellow Springs since ancient times—the one left by Yin Mountain Ghost King Xiong Sanqi,” Xiong Qianxing said, excited.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With that single spring, the Xiong family spent decades of effort and resources to refine just one Ghost General—already their clan’s treasured relic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clearly, the Yellow Springs’ power was miraculous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother, with this spring, you can elevate your Ghost Soldiers to Ghost Fiend level.” Xiong Qianxing grew more excited.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Xiong Qianshan’s status in the clan would soar—and naturally, so would his own gains.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xiong Qianshan, your brother’s dreams are too sweet.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, a tinkling laugh echoed from within the temple; in the dim flickering light, a girl stepped out, her ultra-short denim shorts exposing her long legs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xiong Qianqiu!?” Xiong Qianxing’s face darkened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Among the younger generation of the Xiong clan, few could surpass his brother—but Xiong Qianqiu was certainly one of them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More latest popular novels at \u002Fp>\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t speak,” Xiong Qianshan said grimly, staring at the girl emerging from the ruined temple.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xiong Qianqiu, how do you intend to handle this Yellow Springs?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“For the sake of the family,” Xiong Qianqiu said coolly. “Naturally, it goes to the clan.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hm!?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Xiong Qianxing and Xiong Qianshan exchanged glances, both revealing expressions of surprise—they had never expected this woman to have such vision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“With your status, you naturally wouldn’t know what our Xiong clan is truly doing,” Xiong Qianqiu said coolly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then what do you mean?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ghost General,” Xiong Qianqiu murmured, stroking her pale hand, lips parting to utter two words.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What? You mean… the clan is crafting a Ghost General?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“When Xiong Sanqi emerged suddenly, overwhelming and tyrannical, he crushed every disciple of our Yinshan branch… Since then, the clan has been researching ways to counter him.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“A Ghost General is essential,” Xiong Qianqiu said coldly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such a dark and monstrous artifact made even high adepts avoid it at all costs. To craft the Ghost General, the Xiong clan exhausted every resource and enlisted Ye Buliang to find a Corpse Ghost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“A Corpse Ghost? You actually found one of those?” Xiong Qianxing couldn’t help asking.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>White robes signify the Ming , red robes the Xiong , black robes the Sha —before death, one must never wear such garments.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But there is something even more terrifying: the Purple Robe Corpse Ghost, born from a living sacrifice at the Gate of Life and Death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That means peeling the skin off a living person and sewing it onto another’s body; after death, the soul is trapped within, unable to transcend, becoming an extremely fearsome ghost—nearly demonic, called a Corpse Ghost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the late Eastern Han, a tomb robber accidentally entered an ancient tomb. So ancient was it, even he could not determine its origin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Driven by greed, he traced the path to the main chamber, where, besides the coffin, stood a raised platform like an altar, holding a corpse clad in purple robes, as if skin itself, its shoulder bones threaded with heavy chains.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tomb had lain sealed for at least a hundred years, yet the corpse on the platform still rose and fell slightly, its mouth and nose emitting muffled sounds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Terrified, the tomb robber fled. After returning home, he gave up tomb robbing forever. Only in his old age did he speak of it, saying the burial had used living garments as offerings—perhaps the tomb did not hold a human. He knew no further details, nor would he say where the tomb lay.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The very next day after he spoke of it, he died—without illness, strangely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That great tomb was the work of Yinshan Sect’s founding master, the origin of the Purple Robe Corpse Ghost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, this art has vanished. To find a Corpse Ghost, one must search ancient tombs—and only Ye Buliang can do it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Just one Corpse Ghost costs over five million, after taxes,” Xiong Qianqiu said coolly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Crafting a Ghost General is no small matter. The clan is making a massive move.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Xiong Qianshan pondered. He knew the Xiong clan’s planning stemmed largely from that figure of the past: the Yinshan Ghost King.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one expected someone so extraordinary to emerge outside the direct lineage—his power was unmatched, his rule absolute, yet he answered to no one in the clan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such a being was a ticking bomb for the Xiong clan, Suishi  ready to bring disaster.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xiong Sanqi has been gone from Yujing City for ten years. He’s still Xiong family. Isn’t the clan being overly cautious? Too fearful…” Xiong Qianxing couldn’t help saying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What do you know? How can you claim to understand how tyrannical Sanqi was back then?” Xiong Qianqiu sneered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She was still young then, yet watched as Xiong Sanqi, alone, shattered the entire Xiong clan—forcing elders to kneel in the ancestral hall, slapping each other’s faces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since then, the name Xiong Sanqi became taboo in the Xiong clan, and a nightmare to many.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To them, this man was the clan’s disease, and they needed a cure to eradicate him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once the Ghost General is complete, even if he returns, he won’t be able to rule as he once did.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, in the Xiong clan, many still idolize Xiong Sanqi, especially among the younger generation, who revere him as a hero.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He swore an oath: he would never set foot in Yujing again,” Xiong Qianshan said gravely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ridiculous.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Xiong Qianqiu sneered. “For a master of his caliber, no oath binds him. What vow could restrain such a one?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you think that, you’re naive,” Xiong Qianqiu shook her head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, if Xiong Sanqi keeps his oath, all would be well—many would breathe easier.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if he breaks it, the Xiong clan must be fully prepared.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xiong Sanqi—is he truly the Xiong clan’s nightmare? May he never return!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Xiong Qianshan gazed at the Yellow Spring within the earthen temple, whispering softly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yujing City, Old District.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dark clouds churned; the sky was high, the wind fierce. Distant thunder grew louder. The streets were empty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Streetlights flickered and buzzed, as if faulty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan looked up—he had reached the entrance of Hongfu Garden.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Young man, wait.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, a rough voice came from behind. Zhang Fan turned to see a middle-aged man with one eye approaching.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What is it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You look familiar, young man.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The one-eyed man pulled a crumpled photo from his pocket and held it beside Zhang Fan, comparing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan’s peripheral vision caught the photo: it clearly showed Zhang Lingzong and himself as a child.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Dad? How do you have this photo?” Zhang Fan’s expression turned strange.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m a friend of your father. I happened to pass through Yujing—he asked me to check on you,” the one-eyed man smiled lightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What should I call you, Uncle?” Zhang Fan was overjoyed—he’d finally gotten word of his father.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m Sanqi. Call me Uncle Sanqi.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Uncle Sanqi, where’s my dad now?” Zhang Fan asked eagerly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He’s in Shangjing. Busy with something—he’ll return when it’s done,” the one-eyed man smiled. “He told you not to worry.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he spoke, the one-eyed man reached out, grabbing Zhang Fan’s arm. “Nephew, come with Uncle. I’ll treat you to a good meal.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xiao Fan.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, a call came from nearby.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan had just started to follow, but hearing the voice, he froze and turned to see Liu Fusheng emerge from the guardhouse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Uncle Liu…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan greeted him and quickly introduced: “This is Uncle Sanqi—my father’s friend…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xiao Fan, go home and rest. Come down for dinner later. I need to talk to him for a moment,” Liu Fusheng waved, his eyes never leaving the one-eyed man.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Uncle Liu, you know him!?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Know him? Of course I know him,” the one-eyed man sneered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright, I’ll be right down,” Zhang Fan nodded and turned into the compound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Xiong the Blind, you’re still alive?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Liu the Maimed, you’re still breathing fine too.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the night wind, the two locked eyes, clasped hands like comrades. Suddenly, a thunderclap split the sky—as if a storm was coming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",2918,"2026-06-19T21:05:40.312Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","c2f7d72277c1e93d0090b0ac6a361854759ef75facc593b0c38e63a3044c9022","pure-yang-chapter-89","pure-yang-chapter-87",520,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fpure-yang-cover.jpg"]