Starting Cultivation During a Trip

Chapter 448: Chapter 227: Probing the Three Corpses Daoist’s Memories Again! The Strongest Human

”Ah Yan!”

At this moment, Three Corpses Daoist called out, lifting his palm lightly. Threads of Primordial Spirit, gleaming like flowing light, were pinched between his five fingers, shrieking miserably.

”Master!”

The big black dog turned into a shadow, sitting upright before Three Corpses Daoist, tongue lolling, drool dripping, its whole face radiating excitement and anticipation.

Three Corpses Daoist chuckled, immediately tossing two strands of Primordial Spirit. The big black dog snapped its jaws, and under the moonlight, its sharp teeth shone with a chilling gleam like crossing blades—easily catching the two Primordial Spirits.

Slurp...

The big black dog’s tongue rolled, swallowing the two Primordial Spirits whole.

In the next instant, a thunderous rumbling erupted from its belly, like rolling heavenly thunder. Its fur bristled all over, shimmering with an oily sheen, while silvery moonlight cascaded over its body, seeming to seep into its flesh layer by layer.

”Daoist Demon Refining!?”

Chu Chaoran raised an eyebrow, glancing at the big black dog, a strange look flitting across his face.

How could he not see—this seemingly ordinary big black dog was in fact cultivating the orthodox Technique of the Profound Sect, Daoist Skill of the Daoist Family.

To use a Demon Body to refine Daoist Skill—the fortune within is beyond imagination.

”You’ve got keen eyes, little one. No wonder you’re a Zhenwu Mountain disciple.” Three Corpses Daoist chuckled, his gaze at the big black dog sharp as a blade, as if appreciating a peerless masterpiece.

Not a Mountain and Sea Exotic Species, yet refining the Dharma Lineage of the Daoist Family.

Such a big black dog has never existed before, and will never exist again.

”Marvelous! Marvelous!”

Suddenly, the big black dog howled—its roar thunderous, making heads tingle and blood surge, its might no less than the Thunder Skill of the Daoist Sect.

”Primordial Spirit goes with wine—the more I drink, the more there is.” The big black dog lolled its tongue, gazing at Three Corpses Daoist with hopeful eyes.

With a chuckle, Three Corpses Daoist unhooked the gourd at his waist, popped the stopper, and splashed wine through the air.

Whoosh...

Suddenly, the big black dog’s belly shriveled, chest heaving. It took a tremendous breath, and the air seemed to collapse, gale winds swirling, sweeping the wine through the air in a stream straight into the dog’s mouth.

Smack... smack...

The big black dog savored the taste, then turned and walked toward the corpses beside the big river.

It raised its nose, sniffed for a long while, and finally stopped by a sturdy, spotless corpse.

”Little Mute’s handiwork is top-notch—not a bit bloody or sticky.” The big black dog praised.

This corpse didn’t even have a single wound.

As he spoke, the big black dog turned to Chu Chaoran, sincerity written all over: ”Want to dig in together?”

”Fuck your entire family.” Chu Chaoran’s brows furrowed, his stomach churning.

”Ah Yan, take it to the woods over there.”

Three Corpses Daoist called out. The big black dog bit into the corpse and trotted off to the nearby thicket.

”You don’t want some yourself?”

Three Corpses Daoist raised his hand, waving the Primordial Spirit in his palm, generously inviting him.

Chu Chaoran froze, then turned away and said, ”I’m no heretical demon—I don’t want it.”

”Really? A few days ago, when I suppressed you, I fed it to you while you were unconscious—you gulped it down like milk and couldn’t stop.” Three Corpses Daoist chuckled.

”Bullshit!”

Chu Chaoran’s face reddened; he glared fiercely at Three Corpses Daoist. After a while, he couldn’t help but ask tentatively, ”You really fed it to me?”

”Hahaha, guess.”

”I won’t guess.” Chu Chaoran raised his eyebrows, instantly calming his thoughts, refusing to dwell on it.

That actually made Three Corpses Daoist look at him differently; this little brat had shown a maturity and temperament belying his youth.

”Aren’t you the Wuwei Demon? Why are the people hunting you so mixed?”

Just then, Chu Chaoran stared at Three Corpses Daoist, eyes wide.

Among those corpses, there were Daoist Sect experts, also Wuwei Demons—all sorts, a messy gathering.

”The Daoist Sect wants to kill me because I’m from the Wuwei Sect.”

”Wuwei Sect wants to kill me because I used to be from the Daoist Sect.” Three Corpses Daoist said flatly.

”...”

Chu Chaoran was speechless, silent for a long while before finally asking, ”Who exactly are you?”

”My family name is Zhang.”

”Dragon Tiger Mountain Zhang Family!?” Chu Chaoran exclaimed in surprise.

”Never bestowed a Divine Statue in the mortal world—Ancestral Master took mercy and gave me an empty name...”

Three Corpses Daoist muttered softly, a self-deprecating smile flickering across his lips—cold as winter frost.

Disciples of the Dragon Tiger Mountain Zhang Family can only receive a true name through Divine Enthronement and Sealing of the Statue.

Yet he failed to achieve Divine Enthronement—spurned by the Ancestral Master.

”Zhang Kongming... That’s the name Dragon Tiger Mountain gave me...” Three Corpses Daoist said quietly.

Such a name was like a curse, severing any final ties between him and Dragon Tiger Mountain.

”You’re actually a disciple of the Dragon Tiger Mountain Zhang Family.” Chu Chaoran’s expression turned odd as he stared at Three Corpses Daoist.

”You little brat, what’s with that look? So young, yet acting like some old fart.” Three Corpses Daoist shot him a sidelong glance.

”Dragon Tiger Mountain Zhang Family and Wuwei Sect are mortal enemies. If one of their disciples defects to Wuwei Sect, shouldn’t Wuwei Sect be banging drums and setting off fireworks, practically worshipping you as their lucky mascot?” Chu Chaoran suddenly switched tone, puzzled.

”You really are a born troublemaker.” Three Corpses Daoist gave little Chu Chaoran a long, searching look.

By Chu Chaoran’s logic, Three Corpses Daoist’s very identity would be the ultimate weapon to disgust Dragon Tiger Mountain’s Zhang Family—he wouldn’t even need to lift a finger, just his presence would make them curse in their sleep.

Ordinarily, this would make perfect sense.

Yet...

”The trouble is, my Daoist title is Three Corpses.”

”Mm? What’s the problem with that?” Chu Chaoran asked, puzzled.