My Corpse Puppet Has Formed a Soul Link with a Fairy Chapter 2 : The Third Party, Obsession Path

Chapter 2: The Third Party, Obsession Path

Cheng Hua left.

She claid she had urgent matters to attend to, leaving behind only a small jade pendant as a token, saying she would repay him another day.

Fang Chang did not stop her.

Watching her refined and indifferent figure disappear into the distance, he silently gnawed on his flatbread.

After an unknown amount of ti,

with the moon high in the sky, he gathered the corpses and burned them.

Under the flas, the scattered sparks grew more nurous and surged upward, rging with thin smoke into a slow-moving vortex.

Though Fang Chang cultivated the Corpse Refinent Path, not all corpses were usable.

The 【Traits】 serving as the foundation of yin corpses were extrely important.

For example, the three yin corpses he currently possessed.

...

【Nickna: Jia-1】

【Status: Severely Injured】

【Trait: Strong and Healthy (Green)】

.

【Nickna: Jia-2】

【Status: Severely Injured】

【Trait: Night Vision (White), Grudgeful (White), Slightly Heightened Senses (White)】

.

【Nickna: Jia-3】

【Status: Lightly Injured】

【Trait: Slight Fortune (White), Tough Skin and Flesh (Green)】

...

Due to the existence of the Corpse Refinent Path system,

Fang Chang could easily see the trait entries of corpses. The quality and quantity of these traits directly affected the quality of the refined corpse.

This was also the confidence he had in killing those two Blood Demon Path cultivators.

Although all three of his yin corpses were injured.

As for the villagers in the village—

unfortunately, none could compare to the ones he already had.

Moreover, with his limited cultivation, Fang Chang could at most precisely control three yin corpses, so there was no reason to replace them.

Suddenly,

two terrifying auras erupted from the distant forest.

The collision of their auras produced a shockwave that startled birds and beasts into scattering, branches and leaves clashing violently.

Fang Chang’s hairs stood on end from the pressure, yet the corner of his mouth curled upward.

“They’ve arrived.”

rely reminding Cheng Hua was clearly not enough.

Having finally encountered a capable NPC,

Fang Chang had no intention of letting the opportunity pass.

He dusted himself off, hoisted the coffin board covered in talismans onto his back, and rushed into the forest.

Following the source of the aura, he sprinted all the way.

Before long,

after passing through a battlefield littered with broken trees and craters, he arrived at a flattened pit.

Within it, two heavily injured won stood rigidly in confrontation.

One of them was Cheng Hua, whom he had t not long ago. A short sword was embedded in her abdon, her face pale as paper.

The other was also a woman.

A skull hung at her waist. Her black robe was half-torn, revealing her snow-white shoulder and the soft curve beneath her chest supporting the fabric. Her fiery figure reflected an intoxicating purple glow under the moonlight.

Fang Chang froze for a mont, then imdiately recognized her.

“Zhao Yuntong of the Obsession Path?”

There were the Twelve Orthodox Paths, naturally opposed by the Eighteen Demonic Sects and Thirty-Six Deviant Paths.

Though they sounded nurous, most were disorganized.

The Obsession Path was among them, believing firmly that “what is constantly rembered will eventually echo.” Their cultivation thod involved repeatedly deepening and refining a certain obsessive emotion.

Its power was imnse, but its cultivators’ personalities beca severely distorted.

He had not expected Cheng Hua’s attacker to be her.

Zhao Yuntong had even higher discussion popularity on player forums than Cheng Hua.

Mainly because she was a famous “broken engagent” archetype.

Before joining the Obsession Path, Zhao Yuntong had been cast aside in a broken engagent. As a result, her temperant beca explosive—she directly cut off the head of the one who rejected her and had carried it at her waist ever since.

Such a yandere-type character was especially popular among players, and many could not resist provoking her.

Fang Chang’s gaze steadied.

“The encounter quest should end after Cheng Hua leaves. Players cannot participate in what happens now. The quest details only ntion in passing that ‘Cheng Hua escapes heavily injured.’”

“But now… what is going on?”

In a situation where both sides were heavily injured and locked in a life-and-death stalemate, it beca a contest of recovery speed.

Whoever recovered slower would die.

However,

both Cheng Hua and Zhao Yuntong would appear later in the storyline.

Cheng Hua would reappear as the guide for players entering Canglan Mountain, as long as the quest was completed.

And regardless of whether Cheng Hua died or not, Zhao Yuntong would beco the Holy Maiden of the Obsession Path in the mid-stage of the story, with rumors surrounding her.

Since neither of them would die, then… could there be a third party?

Fang Chang pondered for a mont.

Suddenly, he recalled that when Zhao Yuntong appeared later, the head of her forr fiancé was no longer hanging at her waist.

The reason behind this had been widely speculated among players.

After all, the Obsession Path would never easily let go of its “obsessions.”

“Could it be… because of this ‘third party’?”

He circled the forest.

Among the ruins, the sky had already begun to lighten with the pale glow of dawn.

Fang Chang kicked open the coffin board, and the three yin corpses stood upright abruptly, ignoring physical constraints.

“Go. Don’t let anyone approach.”

Watching the three yin corpses depart in different directions, Fang Chang slung the coffin onto his back again and slowly walked toward the crater where the two won faced off.

...

The pool of blood was thick, soaking into shattered stones and scorched earth.

The two bodies lay collapsed among the ruins, unable to move. Only the faint rise and fall of their chests, along with the intermittent, broken sounds of cold laughter and breathing escaping their lips, indicated they were still alive.

“Zhao Yuntong… if I rember correctly, we should have only t once from afar…”

Cheng Hua’s voice sounded weak yet clear amid the stench of blood.

The short sword piercing her abdon trembled slightly with her breathing. Blood seeped down along her charred clothing, mixing with the thick mud beneath her.

A vague chuckle rolled from Zhao Yuntong’s throat, causing the fullness of her chest to tremble slightly.

She did not answer imdiately.

Instead, with the hand she could still move, she brushed away a bit of dirt splashed onto the face of the head hanging at her waist.

“Once, that’s right.”

Her voice was sowhat drifting, her alluring eyes tinged with a crimson glow.

“At the appraisal gathering at Listening Wind Cliff, five months ago. Before the Reflection Glaze Pendant—the jade that could reflect the scene one cherished most in their heart—why… was yours completely blank?”

“What?”

Cheng Hua was startled, her mory forcefully stirred.

The Listening Wind Cliff appraisal gathering? She had indeed attended, following her elders from the sect, rely as a routine experience.

The details, however, she no longer rembered.

Zhao Yuntong lay sideways on the ground in a languid, seductive posture. Her blood-stained, disheveled hair clung to her collarbone and shoulders, falling into the mud.

Her slender waist was tightly outlined by a now blood-soaked sash, appearing so thin it seed graspable in one hand.

The fullness beneath her clothing, impossible to conceal, pressed downward against the fabric, forming a rounded curve.

Her voice trembled with excitent, and she coughed up blood.

“I hate your so-called ‘purity of heart, clarity of Dao, unmoved by external things.’”

Cheng Hua’s brows knitted as she asked hoarsely, “Just because of this?”

“That’s right.”

Zhao Yuntong admitted openly.

“I want to see—when you are driven into despair, gravely injured, on the verge of death, with your Dao foundation about to shatter—whether you can still remain pure and detached.”

She actually recovered slightly faster than Cheng Hua, slowly propping herself up.

Though she had only regained basic mobility,

it was already far better than Cheng Hua.

Cheng Hua’s face was as pale as paper, her expression barely changing.

Facing Zhao Yuntong slowly approaching, she reached out toward the longsword on the ground, preparing for a desperate final battle.

But her right hand grasped nothing.

Just as she lowered her head to search for it, Zhao Yuntong froze in place within the corner of her vision.

And in the center of her sight, there were a pair of unfamiliar legs that had appeared at so unknown ti.

Cheng Hua looked up in confusion, eting Fang Chang’s slightly gloomy yet handso face.

In his hand was her longsword, already thrust through Zhao Yuntong’s chest.

Fang Chang lowered his head and forced out a gentle smile he had practiced for a long ti.

“We et again, Fellow Cultivator Cheng.”