The Corpse Named Peng Zhi

Li Huowang's mind was buzzing. He felt a chaotic storm raging inside his skull.

"I'm one of someone else's Three Corpses? I am... I am Peng Zhi?"

How is that possible? I clearly transmigrated here. How could I be some fucking Peng Zhi!

"Whether you believe it or not changes nothing. Think back on the past. There were definitely details you couldn't grasp at the time."

"Details?" Li Huowang resisted the idea instinctively, but as he forced himself to examine his memories, he found there were indeed many things that didn't add up.

Danyangzi—as stupid and self-important as ever. The half-real, half-fake things around him. The more he thought about it, the more it fit the description of the Three Corpses.

"Also—can you remember anything from your childhood? Of course not. That's because we were never human. We came out already this size!"

The monk's words made Li Huowang recall what happened before he arrived at Qingfeng Temple. There was nothing there. Just a blank void.

"What is real? What is fake?"

These details, along with the monk's help, kept swapping places in his mind. Li Huowang felt like his head was splitting open.

"Peng Zhi, stop thinking! Stop guessing! Overcome your nature. I could do it, so you definitely can too! Stop guessing! Don't you dare be suspicious anymore! We can beat him!"

The old monk grabbed Li Huowang's arms and shook him urgently.

"Pull yourself together! Look at everyone chasing us—they're all puppets that cultivator set in motion!"

"The moment the two of us Corpses are severed, he'll fully become an immortal! So we're stuck in the same boat now. We can't let his scheme work!"

Li Huowang took a ragged breath, forcing his chaotic mind to steady. He ground his teeth, then turned to the monk. "Monk! You—"

"Watch out!" The monk yanked him sideways. A barbed crossbow bolt grazed past, snatching a few strands of Li Huowang's hair as it flew by.

"You still want to ask questions at a time like this? Can we at least get out of here first before we talk? Look out there—it's nothing but enemies!"

Li Huowang turned to look. The black dots in the distance were no longer dots. They were riders on horses and camels.

Some of their faces were covered in terrifying wooden masks, with fangs protruding from their mouths, writhing like anemones.

Li Huowang recognized them. They were the Nuo opera performers.

If it was just them, maybe he could handle it. But it wasn't just them. A huge crowd of bandits had come along too.

These masked bandits had hostility burning in their eyes. They raised all kinds of weapons, shouting like they were herding cattle.

Li Huowang's expression darkened as he took in the scene. He prepared to charge forward again.

But before he could take two steps, the ground beneath him lurched—the Gobi convulsed, the sky cracked, and the world shattered.

"No! Of all times!"

When he finally came to, he was strapped down on the hospital bed again.

Then he saw Yang Na. And his mother. They were carefully placing a bed tray onto his lap.

"Peng Zhi..." A faint voice whispered beside Li Huowang's ear. His hands, bound by cloth straps, clenched into fists.

He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. Opened them again.

He hadn't gone back.

"Huowang, happy birthday! Remember? Three days from now, it's my birthday."

Yang Na, wearing a tight white sweater, gently placed a paper crown on Li Huowang's head. She clearly hadn't noticed the change in his expression.

"Peng Zhi... wake... up..." The voice in his ear grew louder.

Sun Xiaoqin set a cake onto the bed tray and started putting in candles.

The voice in his ear kept growing. "Peng Zhi, wake up! They've already caught up!"

The lights in the hospital room went out. Smiling, the two women flanked him on either side, their hands clasped together as they leaned in.

"Peng Zhi! Everything I said is true! Forget about the memories in Li Huowang's head! Forget about his body! None of it is yours! No matter how lost you feel—it's all Li Huowang's, not yours! You're just borrowing his body! Overcome your nature! Forget them!"

"I'm not Li Huowang? My mom and Yang Na... the person they really care about is someone else?"

Li Huowang's lips trembled as he stared at the two people in front of him.

"Happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday to you~" They began to hum the birthday song softly.

Watching the unbearably warm scene before him, Li Huowang's lips quivered. He bit his gums until they bled, then swallowed the blood silently.

He wanted to gasp for air. He wanted to vent the crushing pressure inside him through something physical. But he didn't dare. He was afraid of scaring them.

The song ended. Li Huowang leaned forward—slow, deliberate—and blew out the candle.

Both women's mouths fell open in surprise. "Huowang! When did you wake up?"

He looked at them and smiled. Spoke softly: "My wish is... could I have a cloth to stuff in my mouth? Because I might get a little loud in a bit."

The moment the words left his mouth—BANG!—a deafening impact sent stars exploding in his vision. The world around him shifted violently.

"Wake up!!"

He was back on the frozen Gobi. His entire face was scraped raw against the ground, bloody and torn.

Three carts had been circled into a makeshift fort. Everyone was huddled inside the ring, raising weapons to fight back. Few against many. They were barely holding on.

The sight of such a desperate situation made Li Huowang want to rush over and help immediately.

But he didn't move.

Because he saw someone standing to his right.

The monk.

Then he looked at the person holding him up.

Also the monk.

Li Huowang shoved the man away with all his strength. Now, in his eyes, there were two monks.

Schluck! A stray arrow pierced clean through Li Huowang's shoulder.

But he felt no pain. He stood there, frozen, staring in anguish at the two identical bald old men before him.

"Aiya! Daoist, you took an arrow! Are you alright?" The newly appeared old monk started to approach—but Li Huowang cut him off with a shout.

"Both of you, stay back! I don't trust either of you right now!" Li Huowang raised his sword high, veins bulging on his neck.

If he didn't deal with these two first, he'd definitely get ambushed the moment he turned to fight.

The monk closer to him was wearing a helpless expression. He said to Li Huowang, "Peng Zhi, what two monks? That other monk is just your hallucination. Ask your people—they can't even see him."