Chapter 4: I Am Not Willing to Be Beneath Others
Under the grand rising sun,
a gentle breeze swept aside the dry fallen leaves, revealing compacted soil beneath.
Fang Chang landed silently within it, his robes fluttering lightly, faint yin energy circulating around him.
His skin was pale and cold, carrying a natural chill.
He did not look like a good person.
A cultivator at the Qi absorption stage was already different from mortals.
Long, steady breathing and extraordinary endurance went without saying.
Additionally, their body beca lighter and subtly transford, with faint mist-like clouds lingering around them.
It would not be an exaggeration to say the initial bearing of an immortal had begun to appear.
But Fang Chang cultivated the Corpse Refinent Path. Prolonged contact with corpse energy made a slightly more sinister aura entirely normal.
Fang Chang’s gaze shifted.
It settled on a fallen tree trunk on the ground.
The trunk had naturally withered and died—nothing remarkable.
What stood out was a conical broken branch jutting from it.
At this mont, Corpse Puppet Jia-2 lay sprawled across the trunk, its facial bones shattered and its face pierced through by that branch.
“Wow…”
Severe injury for a corpse puppet was very different from that of a mortal.
The re fact that they felt no pain already set them far apart.
That was why Jia-2, despite being in a tattered state before, had still retained considerable combat strength.
A mortal without spiritual essence, at most, could use naturally opposing properties—such as extrely yang-aligned objects—to drive away low-level corpse puppets.
But to completely kill one like this was exceedingly difficult.
“This third party is indeed not simple.”
“We are still in the early stages of Fallen Immortal. Many cultivators who will rise later may still be mortals now… perhaps this is one of them?”
Fang Chang scanned the surroundings and found so scattered footprints.
Following them for about a hundred steps and turning around a large tree, he saw a coarse-clothed youth lying unconscious on the ground.
There was no need to guess—this was the “third party.”
However, Fang Chang did not approach further.
Because beside the youth lay a massive white tiger.
The white tiger was surrounded by misty aura. Its yellow-black pupils calmly stared at Fang Chang, as if looking at an ant, hardly bothering to remain vigilant.
Man and tiger locked eyes.
Fang Chang’s expression remained calm, as steady as an old dog.
Yet he already felt a chill surge from his tailbone, rushing up his spine and crashing into his skull.
Goosebumps spread across his body.
This was not caused by ntal state.
It was the natural suppression of a higher realm over a lower one—a purely instinctive reaction.
There were seven realms of cultivation.
Fang Chang had only just entered the first realm—Qi absorption.
The white tiger before him, however, had an illusory form, almost rging with the surrounding mountain itself.
This was one of the signs of casting off the body, discarding intellect, and transcending form and knowledge—the fourth realm: Sitting in Forgetfulness.
What else was there to say?
Fang Chang turned and left imdiately.
And the white tiger remained there quietly guarding the youth, allowing Fang Chang to leave.
Before long,
Fang Chang returned to where Corpse Puppet Jia-2 had been destroyed.
Under the sunlight, the corpse puppet began to emit a foul stench.
“Heh, what the hell…”
He laughed out of frustration.
At this mont, Fang Chang had already recalled who that youth was.
As ntioned earlier, there were many cultivators who would rise to prominence in the future.
Among them were those born with imnse fortune.
And one who was always accompanied by a white tiger—there was only one such person:
The Little Martial God, Dai Bojun.
In the storyline of Fallen Immortal, this person could absolutely be called the protagonist among protagonists—endless fortuitous encounters, countless masters, nurous romantic interests—he had long made players extrely jealous and consistently ranked first on the NPC kill list.
Co to think of it,
this Dai Bojun was indeed a disciple of Canglan Mountain.
In that case, he must have been the one who diated the conflict between Zhao Yuntong and Cheng Hua.
“Good, good… so it was you…”
Fang Chang stepped forward and pulled Corpse Puppet Jia-2 off the branch.
Then, on the claw at the tip of its right index finger, he found traces of fresh blood.
After killing those two Blood Demon Path cultivators earlier, he had already cleaned the corpse puppets.
Thus, this blood must have been left by Dai Bojun.
Fang Chang quite liked this corpse puppet.
On one hand, the original corpse had belonged to a beautiful widow.
Fang Chang did not have many hobbies—just refining beautiful female corpses, that sort of thing.
On the other hand, the traits 【Night Vision (White), Slightly Heightened Senses (White)】 made it excellent for scouting.
It was definitely not that Fang Chang was petty.
But having it destroyed like this—it was unpleasant.
Fang Chang silently collected the blood and stored it away, his eyes flickering.
...
...
“Crackle—”
The fire in front of the bear cave crackled loudly.
The sky shifted once more from day into night.
At the turning of day and night, Fang Chang sat in ditation, condensing, refining, and circulating the spiritual essence within his body.
Just as absorbing purple qi at sunrise was special, dusk was also a unique mont.
The difference was that morning cultivation focused on drawing energy from the outside.
At this ti, however, the focus was inward refinent—harmonizing yin and yang, a mont when the energies of heart and kidneys intertwined.
Though Fang Chang had the Corpse Refinent Path system,
he could not avoid dealing with corpse energy and other yin-aligned forces.
Over ti, this could lead to more than just minor ailnts.
More severely, excessive yin energy could cause the body to shift from yang to yin—skin becoming delicate, facial hair thinning, bones softening, the body weakening, and ultimately leading to neither male nor female characteristics.
In his past life, it had been just a ga, so he did not care.
Now that he was cultivating in reality, even thinking about it sent chills down his spine.
Fang Chang’s manhood was proud and unyielding, unwilling to be beneath others. It told him clearly—either live properly, or perish together; there was no such thing as withering away halfway.
With no choice, Fang Chang only had one brain, while “they” were two—he lost by numbers and could not win the argunt.
Thus, relying on mories from his past life, he had spent half a month finding this 《Purple Scene Technique》.
“Purple Scene Technique…?”
Behind him, the weak voice of a Fairy suddenly sounded.
Fang Chang turned around.
Cheng Hua had awakened at so unknown ti, half-draped in a robe, leaning against a pile of bundled belongings.
She still looked frail, her pale face devoid of color. Strands of disheveled hair fell loosely, diminishing so of her immortal aura and adding a touch of worldly warmth.
Her cool, beautiful face was tense, her expression extrely serious.
“Do you know that this is a dual cultivation thod of the Desire Path, one that plunders primal yin to nourish oneself—cruel and vicious?”
Cheng Hua’s voice was clear, like porcelain untouched by worldly dust:
“I am grateful that you saved , but if you cultivate this technique, I cannot ignore it.”
Fang Chang found this surprising and looked her up and down.
In a situation where I am strong and you are weak, you can still say sothing like this?
He did not know whether to call her naive or truly pure-hearted and detached.
“I am indeed cultivating it. So, Fellow Cultivator Cheng, how do you intend to intervene?”
Fang Chang asked calmly.
Cheng Hua parted her lips slightly. An unclear emotion flickered in her brows and eyes, yet she said nothing.
She simply held her expression, her gaze conflicted yet steady and stubborn as she stared at him.
Fang Chang found it amusing and explained on his own:
“I have modified this technique to transform the yin corpse energy within my body. It does not use a woman’s primal yin.”
“That is good.”
Upon hearing this,
to his surprise, Cheng Hua did not even question it. Her expression imdiately softened, leaving Fang Chang montarily stunned.
“I need to send word to my sect to retrieve . If you are willing to join Canglan Mountain, co with .”
“I am of the Corpse Refinent Path.”
“No matter. I will vouch for you. At that ti, you can abandon corpse refinent and re-cultivate the thods of Canglan Mountain.”
Cheng Hua spoke calmly, as if it were a trivial matter.
The invitation from Canglan Mountain had co smoothly.
Yet Fang Chang felt a trace of doubt.
In the ga, there had been no restriction on the number of cultivation paths—dual cultivation was common. But he had never heard that joining a sect required abandoning other paths.
“Allow to consider.”
Cheng Hua nodded and said nothing more.
With the conversation ending, the atmosphere in the bear cave fell into an odd silence.
The crackling of the fire and the sound of Cheng Hua adjusting her clothing beca especially clear.
Particularly the latter—she made no effort to avoid him.
Fang Chang knew she was checking whether her clothes had been tampered with.
But at least try to avoid , right?
Why does this person always give off a sowhat naive feeling?
“I didn’t touch you.”
Fang Chang could not help but say.
Cheng Hua looked up. In the dim firelight, her face was pure and clean, the faint tear mole at the corner of her eye like a drop of ink fallen onto white silk.
She stared at Fang Chang for a long mont, a trace of confusion flashing in her eyes.
Her clothes had indeed not been undone.
But why did her chest and other areas still carry a faint tingling warmth?
That was the sensation of direct contact with skin—it was definitely different from contact through clothing.
Perhaps I was dreaming?
Cheng Hua responded with a soft “Mm” and stopped checking.
“Once again, thank you, Fellow Cultivator Fang. If you had not warned about the Gu thods in the sachet, I might not have survived until your rescue.”
Fang Chang waved his hand. “Perhaps you should think carefully about who placed those thods in the sachet.”
“I will reflect on it seriously.”
Cheng Hua looked earnest, appearing quite intelligent.
Fang Chang could not help but sigh.
He realized that Cheng Hua might be the type who lowered her guard completely toward those she trusted.
It was evident from how she did not doubt his explanation about the Purple Scene Technique and was willing to vouch for him to join Canglan Mountain.
She likely truly did not suspect the close friend who had given her the sachet.
And after a full day and night of refinent by the system, Corpse Puppet Zhao Yuntong was about to be completed.
Fang Chang did not want the Soul-Link target to be foolishly killed just as the corpse puppet erged.
...
...
The night wind was cold.
On a certain hill, a woman’s robes fluttered.
She raised her head in surprise, spotting a streak of spiritual light in the sky.
“A sect distress signal paper crane?”
The woman imdiately ford a hand seal of Canglan Mountain and summoned the ssenger crane.
She examined the transmitted ssage.
“Attacked by Zhao Yuntong of the Obsession Path, severely injured… why didn’t she die?!”
Her expression shifted unpredictably. “The Gu insect should have activated when she was weakened. Why? Why?!”
She could not figure it out.
A trace of jealousy flashed in her eyes, growing more intense as her thoughts turned.
All incoming and outgoing distress paper cranes were recorded by the sect—she did not dare act recklessly, so she released it.
Then she took out another ordinary ssenger crane and said resentfully:
“Help kill soone. The location is…”
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