Tomb of Terror

Several miles from where Yang Fan and his companions were, two elderly men, both well into their seventies, stood atop a desolate hillside. Facing the cold night wind, they strolled leisurely in the sinister and foreboding Ghost Corpse Mountain, as if they were merely walking through a tranquil garden.

One of the old men had silver hair and a youthful face, dressed in a moon-colored robe, moving with an elegance that hinted at the charm and grace he must have possessed in his youth. Notably, on his slender fingers, a peculiar ring shimmered faintly with a silvery glow in the moonlight.

The other elder, clad in a grey robe, had a face lined with wrinkles and a beard streaked with white. His steps were slightly unsteady, yet despite his apparent frailty, an unspeakable air of authority emanated from him. Though his eyes appeared dim, a flicker of sharpness would occasionally flash through them, enough to make the surrounding ghosts and specters shudder and retreat in fear.

From any angle, the sight of these two venerable elders, casually wandering in the heart of the ominous Ghost Corpse Mountain, was enough to signal their extraordinary nature.

"Judging by the current progress, everything has unfolded exactly as you predicted. The third-generation disciples of your *Rain Mist Villa* successfully located the ancient thousand-year tomb and even lured that fiendish Daoist Fat Ghost here," the grey-robed elder muttered, his gaze distant, as if he were looking into some far-off place unseen by others.

"Hehe, the plan has exceeded my expectations," the elegant elder replied with a faint smile, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "My disciples have suffered minimal losses and even managed to slay a malevolent ghost and a two-hundred-year-old iron-armored zombie."

"Hmph," the grey-robed elder scoffed coldly. "Had it not been for that mysterious young apothecary, your *Rain Mist Villa* wouldn't have had such an easy time of it."

The elegant elder's smile deepened, and with a curious glint in his eye, he turned to his companion. "Old Yang, are you truly unaware of the young apothecary's identity? Didn't you find him somewhat familiar when you laid eyes on him?"

"What? He… could he be…" The grey-robed elder's gaze suddenly sharpened, his face clouded with disbelief.

The elegant elder's expression turned mocking. "For your *Yang Fortress* to produce such talent—how unexpected. Were it not for the generous promises you made, I wouldn't have risked my disciples' lives to find this thousand-year tomb or help you ambush that troublesome Fat Ghost Daoist."

A shadow crossed the face of the grey-robed elder, and with a sigh, he said, "We've long shared a tacit understanding. Despite the frequent skirmishes between *Yang Fortress* and *Rain Mist Villa* over the years, neither side would stand idly by if the other were in crisis. Now, with only a decade or so left to live, I must eliminate certain threats. Otherwise, my descendants will inherit endless troubles. Fat Ghost Daoist is at his weakest, and I cannot let this chance slip away."

Meanwhile, back at the tomb's entrance, the rotund Daoist with a face as cold as ice surveyed the scene before his eyes finally settled on the fissure in the hillside. A glimmer of greed flickered in his gaze. 

Chu Qiuran, watching the situation unfold, couldn't help but feel uneasy. This expedition to the ancient tomb had been decreed by the family's ancestral patriarch as a trial, and even her father and the elders took the matter seriously. Nothing could be allowed to go wrong.

"Who's hiding in the shadows? Show yourself!" The Daoist suddenly barked, his voice like a whip, accompanied by an invisible pressure that radiated from him. His eyes gleamed with a cold light, like venomous snakes, locking onto a patch of tall grass nearby.

Startled, everyone turned to look in the direction the Daoist was staring.

Whoosh!

A graceful woman in a palace gown floated out from behind the hill, her delicate features bathed in the soft glow of the moon. She sighed softly and, with a gentle smile, offered a respectful bow. "Senior, your spiritual sense is remarkable. I am but a humble servant—Chu Qin—paying my respects."

This woman was none other than the mid-stage cultivator Yang Fan had encountered during his flight the previous night. At the time, Yang Fan, in his guise as the dark sorcerer Shi Qianhan, had overwhelmed her with his formidable spiritual presence.

Seeing her emerge now, Yang Fan's expression remained calm, as though he had anticipated her presence all along.

"Aunt... it's you?" Chu Qiuran's face changed slightly, and the disciples from *Rain Mist Villa* were similarly taken aback, hastily bowing in respect.

"Greetings, Master Aunt!" 

"Greetings, Senior!" 

Chu Yuyan, upon seeing her aunt, beamed with joy. "Aunt, you've come too?"

"Hmph, you elders of *Rain Mist Villa* follow these youngsters into the Ghost Corpse Mountain... what's your real motive?" the Fat Ghost Daoist asked coldly, his gaze fixed on Chu Qin with a mixture of suspicion and disdain.

Draped in her flowing gown, Chu Qin's lithe figure seemed even more enchanting under the night sky, but her smile carried a trace of bitterness. "Senior, you misunderstand. As a second-generation elder, it is my duty to secretly observe the younger disciples during their trial. Should they encounter danger, I can intervene. Surely, you don't think *Rain Mist Villa* would allow our elite disciples to enter this forbidden mountain without any form of protection?"

For a moment, silence fell over the group as the Fat Ghost Daoist scrutinized her. His gaze, piercing and cold, made everyone feel uneasy. Chu Qin, despite her calm exterior, clearly felt the weight of his stare.

Yang Fan, blending in among the group, remained inconspicuous. As a mere apothecary, he exerted all his effort to conceal his aura, silently activating his *Withering Wood Art* to avoid drawing the Daoist's attention. His intuition told him this was a dangerous man—far more formidable than any cultivator he had previously encountered, likely even more powerful than those at the Spirit Focusing stage. Whether this Fat Ghost Daoist had ascended to the Foundation Establishment stage remained uncertain.

If he had, then even the combined forces of the group might not be enough to defeat him. Yet, the possibility of the Daoist annihilating the entire *Rain Mist Villa* contingent seemed equally remote.

Among the group, only Hu Fei dared to show outright hostility towards the Daoist, grinning maniacally and baring his teeth like a madman. His bizarre behavior was met with indifference from the Daoist, who simply ignored him.

After a pause, the Daoist spoke again, "For now, I will believe your explanation. However, though you were the first to locate the tomb, since I am here, I will also claim my share of the treasure."

Chu Qin smiled serenely. "Of course, Senior. With you present, we would be honored to explore the tomb together."

The Daoist nodded but warned sternly, "Let me make one thing clear: if anyone attempts to flee or report back to *Rain Mist Villa*, I will not hesitate to act."

A chilling silence followed as the Daoist's gaze swept across the *Rain Mist Villa* disciples. When his eyes met Yang Fan's, even for a brief instant, a bone-deep chill seized his body, as though his very blood had frozen.

If Yang Fan, with his Spirit Focusing cultivation and mastery of the Great Perfection of Qi Refining, felt such terror, the less powerful disciples must have been even more petrified.

The only ones who managed to maintain a semblance of composure were Chu Qin and Chu Qiuran. As for Hu Fei, his madness defied any normal measure.

"Senior is right," Chu Qin said with a forced smile. "This thousand-year tomb is undoubtedly filled with danger. With your aid, we will have a better chance of survival."

"Hmph, at least you know your place. I have no desire to unleash slaughter tonight," the Daoist replied, descending from the sky. The dark mist that had followed him dissipated into the night.

As he landed, the air of menace surrounding him seemed to dissipate, yet none dared treat him with the slightest disrespect.

"Send some men to excavate the entrance. I've already scanned the area with my spiritual sense. The tomb lies just beyond this breach. But beware—there is a dense, eerie chill within, and even I could only probe a few dozen feet inside before my senses were blocked."

His words carried authority, leaving no room for argument. Chu Qin signaled to Chu Qiuran, who quickly dispatched a few third-generation disciples to begin digging at the tomb's entrance.

"Senior," Chu Qiuran hesitated before speaking, "if more zombies like before appear during the excavation…"

"Rest assured," the Daoist cut her off, his voice cold. "My spiritual sense will monitor the area. If any zombies or spirits emerge, I will alert you immediately."

The Fat Ghost Daoist had no absolute certainty about the tomb's dangers, so for now, he chose to ally with the cultivators of *Rain Mist Villa*. However, none could predict how the spoils would ultimately be divided.

Yang Fan stood silently by, his expression betraying nothing, though inwardly, he had already activated his all-seeing mode, scanning the tomb's interior down to dozens of feet. However, he dared not extend his spiritual

 sense too far, fearful that the Daoist might sense his actions.

The tomb lay just beyond