The Path to Perfection and the Realm of the Ghostly Corpse

Zheng Xiaoman stood in shock, her expression frozen like a wooden statue as she stared at Yang Fan. It was as though she had fallen into a mire, unable to pull herself out, her heart surging with waves of shock, far greater than anything she had ever known.

From the age of three, Zheng Xiaoman had been immersed in the study of medicine and botany under the guidance of her grandfather. She read and memorized countless classical texts. At five, she officially stepped into the path of medical cultivation, learning various techniques such as acupuncture and blood circulation therapies. Over the years, she had devoted her youth entirely to this field.

Her grandfather, Zheng the Apothecary, had passed down all his painstakingly acquired knowledge and techniques to her, regularly sending her on medical missions throughout the land. Gradually, her expertise expanded beyond theory into practical experience. Her profound foundations and remarkable skills in the medical arts far surpassed what anyone her age could typically achieve.

But at this moment, witnessing Yang Fan's method of healing cultivators, she was utterly astounded.

She could barely grasp how he had dispelled the zombie's corpse aura before the process was already over.

Then, as she observed how Yang Fan treated the external wounds and fractures, her eyes widened, her breath held in anticipation as she watched every movement from behind him, studying every subtle detail.

The injured man had suffered a grievous blow from the zombie, his arm shattered, the bones splintered and eroded by corpse energy. Even for someone like Apothecary Zheng, this level of damage would have been a considerable challenge.

Yet, in Yang Fan's hands, his long, slender fingers worked with miraculous precision, seamlessly restoring the shattered bones in just a few breaths.

Yang Fan's mind was intensely focused. At this moment, his heartbeat quickened. The healing technique he employed, the **Jade Bone Art**, was slower than previous attempts, but his cultivation had steadily advanced, pushing him ever closer to the peak of the **Qi Refining Stage**.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Aside from a sliver of attention left to monitor the outside world, his essence, energy, and spirit were concentrated to an unprecedented degree, circulating his **Withered Wood Technique** to its utmost limit.

He knew the breakthrough was imminent.

One breath... Two breaths... The bones were nearly fully mended.

At that instant, an astonishing brilliance gathered in his eyes. The long-running **Withered Wood Technique** reigned in the changes from his cultivation advancement, controlling the aura shift that occurred with the breakthrough. Only those with far higher cultivation than his would be able to detect this subtle transformation.

**Breakthrough!**

Yang Fan exhaled a deep breath of turbid air, the light in his eyes dimming as he forcibly suppressed the surge of excitement in his heart.

He had reached the **Great Perfection of Qi Refining**. From the time he crippled his own cultivation until now, barely half a year had passed.

Such a cultivation speed was ten times faster than when he was once hailed as a prodigy within his family.

Even those born with the legendary **Heavenly Spirit Roots** would pale in comparison to his progress.

"If I take one more step forward, I'll enter the **Foundation Establishment Stage**. From then on, I'll soar within the world of cultivation, and within the region of Yang Family Fortress, there would be few who could truly harm me."

Yang Fan glimpsed endless hope and boundless potential in his future.

But he knew he had to remain discreet and composed. Such rapid progress, if discovered by the wrong people, would bring endless trouble upon him.

Fortunately, he had two identities. One was that of a compassionate healer, devoted to saving lives. The other, a ruthless and domineering rising star in the demonic path, **Shi Ganhan**.

If anyone dared to stand in his way, Yang Fan wouldn't hesitate to use his second identity to eliminate all threats.

After finishing the bone-setting and mending, Yang Fan casually performed two **Rain Dew Arts**, healing the external wounds.

When it was all done, and Yang Fan stood up, the injured cultivator excitedly swung his arm, his face filled with joy. "My... my arm..."

"How... how is this possible?" Zheng Xiaoman still hadn't recovered from her shock.

The deeper one's knowledge in medicine, the more one could grasp the true meaning behind Yang Fan's seemingly effortless techniques.

At this moment, the injured man inspected his body in disbelief, unable to find even the faintest scar on the previously wounded area, standing there completely healed.

Having successfully advanced to a new level, Yang Fan stood and surveyed the battlefield.

Under the lead of two **Foundation Establishment cultivators**, the remaining two zombies were already on the verge of defeat, their bodies battered and broken.

The zombie facing Hu Fei, in particular, was charred black, the crackling traces of lightning leaving it completely suppressed.

Hu Fei had even summoned a **low-grade spirit sword**, glowing with a fiery crimson hue, which, when combined with his lightning techniques, produced even more devastating **Thunderfire**.

Thunderfire, the ultimate nemesis of all ghostly and corpse creatures, was a brutal force against the zombies, making their defeat inevitable.

Amidst the roars of pain, the zombie was finally struck down, perishing under a storm of magical treasures and techniques.

After dealing with the zombie, Hu Fei and Chu Yuyan rushed to join the fight against the remaining zombie, locked in combat with Chu Qiuran and others.

"Bring me... bring me your life!" Hu Fei's stammered voice echoed, contrasting sharply with the powerful aura radiating from his body.

Just as Hu Fei was about to strike, a thick black fog descended from the sky, accompanied by a burst of maniacal laughter. "Hahaha... You younglings, don't harm that fine **Iron Armored Zombie** of two hundred years. It's mine!"

Whoosh!

A strong gust of wind, along with the chilling black fog, forced the group back. Each one of them looked up at the sky, faces filled with astonishment.

As the black mist parted, it revealed a **plump Daoist**, several storage pouches hanging from his waist. He hovered arrogantly above the group of disciples from **Rain Mist Manor**, his eyes cold and indifferent.

Upon seeing this Daoist's face, Yang Fan's heart skipped a beat. Wasn't this the figure he had glimpsed in the sky on his journey to **Xiuyu Field**?

At that time, he had slain a gravely injured Qi Refining cultivator in the wilderness and, in a moment of curiosity, attempted to use his **Rain Dew Art** on the corpse. What followed was a series of terrifying and unnatural changes. Uneasy, Yang Fan had quickly left the scene, but while traveling, he had sensed a disturbance and looked up to see this same plump Daoist riding the black mist.

"**A Ghost Corpse Dao Cultivator!**" Chu Qiuran gasped, exclaiming, "May I ask the senior's name? We are disciples of **Rain Mist Manor**, here for a trial." The others, trembling, dared not speak.

"Rain Mist Manor?" The plump Daoist's eyes flickered with a strange light, and he snorted coldly. "So, you are descendants of **Chu Hanyue**. I didn't expect to encounter you in **Ghost Corpse Mountain**. Step aside now. This two-hundred-year **Iron Armored Zombie** is the perfect material for corpse refinement."

Without waiting for a response, he formed a seal with his hands, sending a streak of eerie green fire shooting into the zombie's already weakened body.

The zombie howled in defiance, struggling on the ground, trying to escape the plump Daoist's control.

But it was futile. The Daoist's cultivation was far superior, and after a brief resistance, the zombie became rigid, like a puppet under his command.

A satisfied smile spread across the Daoist's face as he patted a special black storage pouch on his waist.

Instantly, a chilling aura enveloped the zombie, and within the swirling black mist, the two-hundred-year-old **Iron Armored Zombie** vanished without a trace.

With his task complete, the Daoist's gaze swept across the group, landing on **Hu Fei**, a flash of killing intent briefly flickering in his eyes.

Hu Fei shivered, yet suddenly bared his teeth, his eyes glowing with ferocity as he raised his hands, ready to challenge the Daoist, seemingly undeterred by the massive gap in strength.

The Daoist's face darkened as he scrutinized Hu Fei with a look of astonishment. "This disciple is... peculiar..."

"Please, forgive my junior brother, senior. He's always been this way..." Chu Qiuran hurriedly explained.

The Daoist sneered, muttering to himself, "So, this child's mind is a bit broken... No wonder he's not afraid of me."

Suddenly, Hu Fei let out a sharp howl, his eyes turning red as he leaped forward like a spirit monkey, lightning flickering between his palms, attacking the Daoist without hesitation.

"No!"

"Stop!"

The disciples of Rain Mist Manor cried out in horror.

Crackling with lightning, Hu Fei fearlessly charged into the black mist, purple sparks tearing a hole in the fog.

Yang Fan's eyes widened in surprise. This scene was eerily similar to their first meeting.

"Courting death!" The Daoist's face twisted in anger. With a casual wave of his sleeve, a chilling gust of wind swept downward.

Boom!

The clash of forces sent Hu Fei flying like a ragdoll, his body sinking

 into the earth.

At the sight, Chu Qiuran and the others turned pale with fear.