Han Li saw the young woman's expression and immediately grew pale, her eyes flashing with cold intensity. Without a word, he raised his hand. Though he didn't understand why she was afraid of a single scroll, since she had shown no ill will, he would not hesitate to act. The black-robed young woman grew even more panicked, and, without thinking, struck the stone platform beneath her with one hand, ready to rise and take cover. However, this motion evidently triggered some kind of restriction—only a few paces had she risen when a flash of red light swept around her, instantly pulling her back to her original position, her face now etched with pain. At that moment, the jade box had already reached her before, emitting a clear chime, then changed direction and gently floated toward the top of her head. The golden seal on the box then radiated bright light, and countless golden characters drifted out, gently descending upon the young woman. "No!" the black-robed woman cried out in despair, her graceful features twisting into an expression of utter anguish. Then, unwilling to remain passive, she swiftly raised her single arm to cover her face, simultaneously pressing her head down with great effort, as if she desperately wished to hide her face within her arms. The runes finally settled upon the young woman's shoulders. At once, a flash of golden light appeared, followed by a surge of green mist. As her body shuddered violently, a piercing, shrill cry erupted from her mouth—a sound so sharp and unnatural that it seemed utterly unlike human speech. Han Li's expression changed dramatically; he involuntarily stepped back several paces, his palms slightly damp. He quickly clutched the spirit bag containing the gold-devouring insects in one hand, and grasped the ancient jade如意 (jade如意) relic in the other, his gaze fixed solemnly upon the stone platform, remaining silent. With more runes descending, the green mist swirled continuously around the black-robed young woman. Eventually, the entire stone platform was enveloped in a thick haze, and only occasional flashes of golden light remained visible—no trace of the young woman could be seen. Yet the cries echoing through the green mist never ceased—sometimes high and piercing, sometimes low and thunderous, shifting between male and female tones without pause, sending chills down one's spine. Han Li watched, his heart racing, his lips parting slightly as he held his breath. For with the emergence of this green vapor, a pungent, foul odor filled the entire chamber. Even a few deep breaths sent him dizzy and nauseous, leaving him deeply startled. The vapor itself seemed to be highly toxic. At that moment, a series of crisp, snapping sounds emerged from within the dense emerald mist. Han Li paused, still uncertain what the sounds meant, when suddenly a sharp "whoosh" rang out. A slender, vibrant green claw shot forth from the mist like a lightning bolt, encrusted with fine silver filaments, and seized Han Li who had retreated to the corner of the stone chamber. The claw's arm flexed with the grace of a serpent, extending several zhang in length, and directly aimed to grasp the protective light shield covering Han Li. Han Li stood firm, tightening his grip on the jade如意, ready to cast a spell. Yet suddenly, the silver chain on the ghost's claw contracted sharply, sparks flew wildly, and a strong scent of scorched odor rose. A low, painful roar echoed deep from within the mist, and the sharp claws retracted. Han Li stared intently at the thick fog, his expression shifting between concern and uncertainty. After a moment's thought, he grew even colder, retreating two small steps, pressing himself against the wall of azure stone, and poured a significant amount of spiritual energy into the jade如意. Instantly, the red and yellow energy shield around him grew denser and more solid. Only then did his expression ease slightly, and he feel a measure of reassurance. After a full cup of tea's worth of time, the strange cries from the green mist gradually subsided. The glow of the jade box and golden seal dimmed, and the falling characters became increasingly sparse—markedly different from when it had first begun. "Although this golden seal clearly counters the entity—whether ghost or spirit—it seems to hold only limited spiritual energy. We shall see whether it can hold once the energy is fully depleted." Seeing this scene, Han Li thought to himself that fortunately, his concerns had not come true. When the cries finally faded and the green mist grew still and lifeless, the glow on the golden seal had not yet fully dissipated. Han Li glanced at the golden seal floating in the air, hesitating before moving closer, and waited a moment longer. Only when the light of the seal gradually faded and the seal itself fell straight into the green mist, did he finally act. With one hand, he waved it, temporarily storing the spirit-beast bag, while with the other, he pressed a series of hand seals, and a low chant began to rise. Instantly, a red glow the size of an egg appeared before him. After glancing at it, Han Li gently pointed and, with a "whoosh," the glow transformed into a streak of red light and vanished into the green mist. Then, Han Li raised his eyebrows slightly and softly uttered the character "bo." A loud "thud!" echoed from within the green mist. The mist was suddenly scattered like it had been swept away by a fierce gale, leaving no trace, while a warm, intense aura filled the entire cottage. Indeed, fire-based techniques proved most effective against these malevolent, toxic vapors. The warm breeze blew against him, and Han Li stood still, motionless, his eyes flashing with unusual light, fixed intently on the stone platform where the mist had dispersed. Upon closer inspection, however, his heart leaped unexpectedly, and he cleared his throat, feeling a sudden chill. There, on the platform, lay a humanoid figure lying motionless—its fate unknown. It was humanoid in shape, yet covered entirely in dense, coarse green fur, and a strong, cloying stench of decay emanated from its body. Though its exact appearance had not yet been fully discerned, it was clearly not human. Like the black-clad young lady it had previously manifested as, this figure also possessed only one arm. And that long, black-clawed appendage clearly was the ghost's claw that had just attacked Han Li. What caught Han Li's attention was that the monster now seemed wrapped in a series of fine silver chains—these chains not only bound its arms and legs but also passed through the holes in its chest and back, completely immobilizing it in place. Without hesitation, Han Li pointed his finger at the numerous flying swords hovering at his fingertips, and instantly, dozens of green glimmers shot out, slashing wildly at the creature. Yet, with a series of deep, resonant "crunch" sounds, the green-furred monster remained unharmed. Han Li gave a slight smile, revealing a touch of苦笑, though he wasn't particularly surprised. After all, given the careful and thorough way the creature was restrained, it clearly must be no ordinary being. He had actually expected it to be severed in two if the monster had truly been defeated. At that moment, Han Li gestured to the flying swords, drawing them back, then took a few steps forward, gently sweeping his large sleeve across the green-furred monster. At once, a cascade of emerald mist shot forth from Han Li's sleeve, gently wrapping around the monster's body before silently dropping it down, revealing its true form. Before him stood a pale, bone-like gray face, resembling a skeleton. A pair of massive fangs protruded slightly from its half-open mouth, giving it an overwhelmingly terrifying appearance. "This one?" Han Li glanced at the green fur covering the creature and then at its face, feeling a subtle familiarity—something he had seen before, perhaps in that ancient text. He lowered his head and pondered. After a moment, Han Li suddenly lifted his head, eyes reflecting a hint of fear, and exclaimed the creature's name: "Shi Xiao." In his mind, he swiftly recalled the legendary tales of this fearsome spirit, renowned even in the age of the wild and untamed lands. By name, "Shi Xiao" was a type of zombie. Yet it differed significantly from the corpse-walkers cultivated by immortals and the ordinary, earth-entombed zombies that retained a spirit. The conditions under which they can form are extremely stringent. Although the complete method of their formation has not yet been fully understood, corpses that evolve into Shiqiao must have met two essential prerequisites during their lifetimes. First, the deceased must have been at least a Yuan Ying-stage cultivator; ordinary people or those with lower cultivation levels are incapable of transforming into Shiqiao after death. Second, the cultivator must possess a Wood or Earth nature spiritual root, and specifically, a Heavenly spiritual root—otherwise, they cannot harness the power of stone and wood to achieve spiritual revival after death. In addition, there is a third indispensable condition: the cultivator must have died with an overwhelming sense of resentment or deep-seated anger. Only under such circumstances will their spirit refuse to return to the cycle of reincarnation and remain anchored within the corpse. Over time, with the right combination of favorable circumstances, the spirit gradually re-integrates and fuses with the body, eventually giving rise to the Shiqiao—a creature that can be described as half-human, half-dead, or half-dead, half-goblin. For it not only lacks the fatal weakness of ghosts and spirits—being afraid of sunlight—but also retains most of the memories of its former life and is born with the ability to practice the martial arts and techniques it once mastered. Moreover, due to its resentment at death, these malevolent spirits are naturally not vegetarian; they are almost all inherently bloodthirsty. After slaying cultivators, they especially delight in imprisoning their souls within their own bodies and gradually tormenting them with the heat of their decaying remains for amusement. This creature was indeed something that every cultivator in the ancient realm of immortality once feared and spoke of in awe.