Kong Jufu and Cheng Xinzhan waited in the cave chamber.
The former felt his life hanging by a thread, his fate in the hands of others — each minute felt like a year.
The latter sat with his eyes closed,沉思, recalling everything he had seen and heard since coming to the island.
The corpse clans were far more numerous than he had imagined, and their strength was no joke.
His jade-green eyes had the ability to pierce the netherworld; they could even tell when a living corpse had turned.
From the moment he stepped onto the island until they reached Tang Yusheng’s cave, he had seen corpses a hundred years old, two hundred years old, some from the Yuan and Ming eras, and even corpses from the Tang and Song — the span covered thousands of years.
This only confirmed the idea he had carried in his heart, and it was exactly why he had spent so much trouble sneaking into the Corpse Island.
People always die.
And it wasn’t only people — demons, spirits, monsters who had successfully cultivated also died.
When these living beings died, naturally three kinds of yin beings could be born: ghosts, corpses, and bones.
The orthodox paths actually had teachings to transform and guide yin beings.
Whether it was raising corpses, nurturing ghosts, or tending bones, there were methods.