"The Abode of Ten Thousand Pills, to put it bluntly, is a massive underground black market."

  "All the notable rogue cultivators from our Qingzhou and the southern provinces—whether they follow the Righteous or Evil paths—love to gather there."

  "Pills, artifacts, cultivation techniques, information... as long as you have spirit stones, you can buy anything. And, of course, you can sell anything."

  "The pill trade is the most vibrant there, though most are just trinkets for us Qi Condensation cultivators. As for something as precious as a Foundation Establishment Pill, don't even dream about it; you won't find a finished product for sale. But a recipe..."

  "Who knows? You might actually run into a profligate heir or some poor soul in desperate need of cash who’s willing to sell their family heirlooms."

  Old Ghost’s tone shifted, becoming a bit warmer but also more somber.

  "However, kid, I must warn you. Three thousand miles is no joke. We Qi Condensation types can't just hop on a flying sword like those Foundation Establishment masters and be there in a flash. Even if you slap on all your Wind-Walking Talismans and run day and night, it’ll still take months."

  "The road is infested with demonic beasts, and human hearts are unpredictable. Plus, you’re carrying such a conspicuous coffin on your back. You'd better think long and hard about whether it's worth the risk."

  Chen Gensheng gave a bitter smile. Did he even have a choice? Without establishing his foundation, he would eternally be an ant. He never wanted to experience the utter powerlessness he felt that day at Maple Red Valley ever again.

  "No choice," he patted the coffin on his back. The cold touch brought him a sense of security. "I have to try. Besides, with so much time on the road, I should start refining my first Corpse-Puppet."

  Old Ghost watched him, a glimmer of approval flashing in his clouded eyes. This one has the makings of someone who gets things done. He nodded, offering no further persuasion.

  "Since you've decided, I won't stop you." He reached into his ancient bronze coffin and tossed a dark, weathered jade slip toward Gensheng. "This is a map of the Endless Swamps, with several dangerous areas I marked years ago. It should save you some trouble."

  "Thanks."

  Gensheng took the slip without redundant pleasantries, shouldered the Corpse-Nurturing Coffin, and turned to leave. His departure was clean and decisive. Watching the figure with the massive coffin vanish into the darkness of the cavern, Old Ghost muttered to himself:

  "Whether you turn out to be a cockroach or a dragon... that depends on your own fate."

  The Endless Swamps.

  Calling it a swamp was an understatement; it was a vast expanse of water blanketed by death. Dark green miasma lingered year-round. Rotting duckweed floated on the surface, occasionally revealing bleached white bones—it was impossible to tell if they belonged to beasts or unlucky cultivators. The air was thick with a nauseating stench of decay.

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  A figure carrying a massive coffin moved steadily through this wasteland. Chen Gensheng’s steps were firm, landing precisely on patches of grass that looked soft but were actually solid.

  This was his second month since leaving the cavern. For two months, he traveled by day and sought a relatively safe "island" by night to conduct his most important lesson: Corpse Refining.

  On a small island, he sat cross-legged with the massive coffin before him. Two hands pressed against the lid, pouring pure spiritual energy into the blood-red runes. Another two hands formed the complex and eerie hand-seals Old Ghost had taught him.

  Of his final two hands, one slashed a small wound on his wrist to feed his Innate Essence Blood—laced with his insectoid aura—drop by drop into the central rune of the lid. The other hand held the map slip, planning the next day's route.

  Multi-tasking had long become second nature to him.

  As his essence blood dripped in, the entire coffin shuddered. The runes seemed to come alive, flowing with an ominous light. Li Simin lay still inside. His blood followed the runes, turning into countless fine crimson threads that pierced her body, tempering every inch of her skin and bone.

  It was a long, tedious process. Day after day. His spirit stones were being consumed at a rapid rate, but in exchange, the connection between him and the corpse grew tighter. He could feel her body undergoing a wondrous metamorphosis.

  It was hard to tell if it was the third or fourth month. On this day, Gensheng stopped on a barren rock island as usual. But the moment his blood touched the lid, a blast of icy Death Qi erupted from the coffin. The surge was so powerful it cleared a massive patch of the surrounding miasma.

  Gensheng’s heart jolted. He immediately ceased his movements. Is it done? Old Ghost had said refining a Life-Bound Corpse-Puppet—especially one of Li Simin's caliber—would take at least three to five years.

  Suppressing his shock, he pressed all six hands against the heavy lid and slowly pushed it open. There was no stench of decay. Instead, a faint, cold fragrance—like a snow lotus—wafted out.

  Gensheng leaned in to look.

  Li Simin lay there peacefully. Her face was still that ordinary, plain face, but her skin was now unnervingly white—whiter than snow, like bone-china polished a thousand times. It was smooth and delicate, yet possessed a distinctly non-human texture. On that bloodless face, her Void-Watching Eyes stood out like two brilliant gemstones forced into a rough stone. It didn't add beauty; it made her look incredibly eerie and uncoordinated.

  "Simin... you're so ugly."

  That was the first thought that popped into Gensheng’s head. In life, Li Simin was an average-looking girl. Now, as a corpse, her ugliness had at least gained "character."

  He extended a finger, testing the connection established by his blood, and sent a simple command: "Get up."

  Inside the coffin, the female corpse's eyelids twitched. Then, she slowly opened her eyes. With extreme stiffness, she sat up.

  Gensheng locked eyes with her. He could clearly feel the invisible "string" connecting them. He was the puppeteer; she was the marionette. He sent another thought. Li Simin clumsily climbed out of the coffin. Her movements were awkward, every step looking like a calculated but unnatural mechanical motion.

  Gensheng walked around her twice, his six arms crossed over his chest like a picky buyer inspecting merchandise. He pointed to a waist-high black rock nearby.

  "Strike it."

  Without hesitation, Li Simin raised her fist and smashed it into the rock with all her might.

  THUD!

  A dull sound. The rock didn't budge an inch. Li Simin’s small fist, however, was torn open, flesh and skin splitting apart.

  As expected. Aside from being fearless and immune to pain, this corpse had zero combat power. After all, she was only at the 3rd or 4th level of Qi Condensation when she died.

  "Old Ghost said she was top-tier material... he probably only saw the potential in her eyes. As she is, she's not even as useful as my wasps."

  Gensheng sighed, but he wasn't discouraged. Since traditional corpse-refining wasn't enough, he would use his own way—the way of an Insect Master.

  He reached out a hand and pressed it against Li Simin’s cold forehead. The Myriad Ghoul Casket within him hummed. A cluster of microscopic insect eggs flowed from his palm, silently burrowing into her brow.

  "If your body is too weak, I'll use insects to build your frame."