On the last day of January, Xu Qing closed the shop door, holding three sticks of incense.
In front was the offering table with the tablets of Master Yang and Liu Youdao.
Silently offering the incense, Xu Qing watched the wisps of white smoke rise, feeling a surprising calm in his heart.
Compared to wild zombies, he felt he was already lucky enough.
If he were a wild zombie, at this moment who knows if he'd be on some desolate mountain tomb, looking at the moon and eating the wind, or trying to sneak into living human territory but failing, chased by a group of strong laborers wielding hoes and knives.
Or maybe worse, dragged out from the coffin by a passing Corpse Driver or some Taoist with single-brow, with a couple of thumps to the face, and sent back on his way after waking up.
Fortunately, Xu Qing was not a wild zombie; he had the inheritance of a Corpse Driver, knowing better than any zombie how to cultivate. Even without corpse-raising materials, he could integrate into human territory and trade gold and silver for various cultivation resources.
This was an advantage that others of his kind couldn't compare with, which is why he held a certain level of respect for the two Corpse Drivers he was offering to. It was they who gave this zombie the capital to become bigger and stronger, to achieve new glory.
"Under Liu Youdao and Master Yang, disciple embarks on a seven-day closed-door cultivation today, hoping the masters have spiritual awareness in the heavens, blessing the disciple with success in learning and accomplishments in the path..."
Although Liu Youdao didn't act human earlier, turning him into a zombie, he also obtained a new life of another significance.
After that, he inherited the Funeral Shop, diligently researching corpse driving techniques, ensuring Yang Yingqi and Liu Youdao's lineage didn't get cut off, forming some sort of teacher-student relationship in both emotion and reason.
So Xu Qing felt it was reasonable to have a teacher and master slightly bless the student's academic work.
After all, he had made up his mind, if this transformation into an Iron Armored Wandering Corpse failed, he wouldn't need to burn incense for offerings during holidays anymore...
If a teacher doesn't bless their student and the student fails, then probably that teacher doesn't have the audacity to enjoy incense offerings?
Completing traditional filial duties, Xu Qing held onto the pioneering spirit of succeeding or dying, and began to fuss around the workbench with axe, chisel, scissors, and needle.
The so-called workbench was actually two coffins joined together to form a simple tabletop, covered with a smooth black lacquered wood board, usually used for preparing corpses, with this thing.
At this time, in front of Xu Qing was a wooden stake made from Dark Wood. He wasn't familiar with carpentry, but hollowing out the stake to make a simple coffin was still achievable.
Dark Wood served as the corpse container, cut and chiseled to make the empty stake, placed aside for use.
Next was the main act. Xu Qing fetched the large corpse nail soaked in Corpse Driver secret method, hammering it firmly into the mountain mix skin with hardness comparable to iron and stone.
Nailing this complete yin object fur requires careful selection of spots. First, the mountain mix skin's forehead center, back center, left and right hand centers, and foot centers had to be smeared with Vermillion, attached with Divine Talisman, then hammered in to prepare.
The nearly twenty-year-old mountain mix skin contained persistent yin turbid, accumulated heavy resentment after being persecuted before becoming a spirit monster.
After spreading and fixing the skin securely with nails, still not at ease, Xu Qing found five-color cloth strips to bind it tightly.
Once everything was ready, Xu Qing lit the green lamp on the platform, took a deep breath of Spirit Incense to refresh, ensured all doors and windows were closed, then took out the Wolf Hair Brush, using his own zombie blood as ink to carefully delineate Corpse Shadow Yin Talisman on the skin's interior.
There were thirty-six Corpse Shadow Yin Talismans in total. With each stroke, the skin nailed on the platform would twitch briefly, resembling freshly cut beef.
When Xu Qing reached the twenty-seventh talisman, like a tattoo artist, the 'beef' on the table started to become manic, countless hairs began to grow wildly from the skin's back, then climbed towards the edges of the whole skin, seemingly looking for a new body to parasitize.
However, he had already circled the skin's edges with candles. Those wriggling hairs touched the heat, recoiling swiftly like startled snails.
In the deep of night, the funeral shop flickered with lights, cold and distorted beast sounds sealed within the twitching animal skin by the Blood Talisman Brush. The young Corpse Driver sometimes resembled an old tailor in a tailoring shop, sometimes like an old painter in a painting studio, but more like a master in shadow puppetry wielding swords and spears, able to manipulate all complex lines intricately.
With countless runes completed, the whole skin was now divided into eleven areas, corresponding appropriately to the five Zang-organs and six Fu-organs.
At dawn, he pulled out all corpse nails, and the wrinkled old mountain mix skin lay quietly on the table, completely like a bride exhausted the night of the wedding, without a trace of temper.
On the table, aside from scattered nails and talisman brushes, remnants of various materials were everywhere. Xu Qing, having used blood as ink and battled all night, felt heavy-headed and light-footed, too lazy to clean up the mess.
Opening the shop door, bending his back, he walked to the Paper Mache Shop. Wu Yaohua, just awakened, shivered and poked out half his body.
"Hiss, Younger Brother Xu, what happened to you! How come you look so haggard?" Wu Yaohua looked at the gaunt young man with a withered face as if he would fall with a gust of wind, instantly wide awake.
"Cough, I spent a night at Cuiyun Building last night; I only have this hobby, I'll recuperate in a few days."
Casually making up an excuse, Xu Qing mentioned the real matter: "Old Wu, I recently took on a Feng Shui task, it's about inspecting graves and fixing holes. I probably won't return for the next seven or eight days. If someone comes looking for me during this period, please inform them."
Wu Yaohua still worriedly said: "Are you really okay? Why don't I accompany you to the pharmacy, get some nourishing and vitalizing medicine..."
"Oh, I still have a few old hens in my old courtyard..."
Xu Qing ultimately declined his neighbor's care. He knew his own situation better; if he really went to the clinic, whether he himself was alright was secondary, he feared the doctor might get scared to sickness.
After all, he was genuinely a zombie; what need did he have for medical treatment?
Back at the shop, locking the door from outside, Xu Qing strolled to the backyard, climbed over the wall, and returned to the shop.
On the table, the eerie dark mountain mix skin still lay quietly. Xu Qing stripped naked, took a deep breath, murmured ancestor blessing, then reached out and wrapped the skin covered with runes, soaked and prepared with various materials, around himself.
In the next moment, the deathly still skin suddenly stirred, countless dark blue veins grew from under the skin surface, like post-rain sprouts, piercing into Xu Qing's body.
With the purplish-red runes glowing, Xu Qing couldn't think much, as his whole body was enveloped and devoured by the writhing, twisting old skin.
Enduring the numb pain similar to circuits shorting inside his body, Xu Qing, temporarily blind, staggered to the dark wood empty stake.
Once, unable to distinguish whether he was beast or human, he fell into the stake, he laboriously felt the side coffin lid and sealed himself completely.
Outside, cold wind howled; days and nights passed.
Bright sunlight streamed through door cracks and window gaps...
The first spring rain silently arrived...
One day, knocking and voices sounded at the funeral shop door, then went silent.
The night watchman's drum and wooden clapper sounds continued for seven days.
The funeral shop's laid wooden stakes resembled thrones forgotten by time in ancient ruins, letting crows squawk atop.
On February 8, in a corner of the funeral shop, a cocoon broke its shell, a single ray of light through the window gap shone on the corner, and a newly born blue-black butterfly spread its wings, fluttering across the table, landing on the wooden stake coffin.
At that moment, the long-silent coffin wood suddenly trembled slightly.