Methods to Avoid the Undead

"Wash with these and the Corpse Toxin will be neutralized. But as for your companion there — without a Healing Element Mage, forget about that leg ever recovering." The old night watchman sat on a weathered wooden stump, puffing at his long pipe as he spoke.

Wang Tong offered him an automatic lighter and a Zhonghua cigarette, but the old man shook his head repeatedly. They weren't isolated here, he said, nor backward — it was simply that certain methods were necessary to keep the village at peace.

He told them there were no empty wooden cabins to spare, so they would have to make do with the straw huts for the night.

They were all soldiers who had endured every kind of grueling training. As far as they were concerned, a thatched hut with no Undead lurking outside was practically luxury.

"Whatever business you have, save it for daylight. And whatever you do, don't go wandering — especially not outside the village. I'll go let the chief know you're here..." The old watchman left them with that, pipe stem still clenched between his teeth as he walked away.

They lay down in the slightly damp thatched hut, too exhausted to speak. Each pulled their clothes over themselves like blankets and was out almost instantly.

Most of them had seen enough of death and bloodshed that, terrifying as the night had been, it couldn't keep them from sleep.

No one kept watch. They all slept.

Zhang Xiaohou was jolted awake by the cold several times. The first time, the moon hung high overhead. The second, it had already tilted toward the horizon. The third, the world was pitch black — a silence so total it made his chest tight — but exhaustion dragged him back under each time. When he finally opened his eyes for good, the sky had begun to pale.

"Get over here, you little brat! Who told you to wash your feet upstream? I'll skin you alive!"

"Come wash clothes with me! My husband never lifts a finger for anything — except changing his clothes. That, he does plenty of."

**Clang! Clang!**

The sound of a gong jolted them all awake. Blinking through bleary eyes, they found the village already alive: children dashing every which way, women starting their morning chores, old folks shuffling about at this early hour...

Last night the village had been eerily silent, yet here in the morning light it was no different from any ordinary village — lively, even.

As the group stirred, a handful of runny-nosed children who had apparently never seen outsiders gathered near the hut, staring at them as though they were strange creatures from another world.

"Everyone up — the chief wants to see you at the village hall." The old watchman, who hadn't slept a wink all night, was somehow sharper than ever. He made sure they had breakfast first before leading them over.

The village hall was modest. It had a small courtyard inside the gate, at the center of which sat a large copper vat brimming with clear, ice-cold water. Pebbles lay scattered across the bottom, and if you looked closely, you could make out red characters carved into them — names, by all appearances.

"Anyone from our village who passes on — young or old — their name gets carved on a stone and sunk in this basin. Keeps them from joining whatever's out there." The old watchman offered the explanation without breaking stride.

Past the courtyard lay the hall itself.

Inside, several elders sat in wooden chairs with an air of perfect ease, not a trace of anxiety about living in the heart of the Land of the Undead.

The seat of honor was occupied by a middle-aged man whose crow's feet were deeply etched. Even a slight smile deepened them further, speaking of a life long weathered by hardship — something no amount of careful grooming could conceal.

"I'm the village chief. Just call me Fang Gu." The man introduced himself.

"Our chief is no ordinary man — he's a Grand Mage," the old watchman said with obvious pride.

"Compared to experts from the military district, I'm nothing worth mentioning." Fang Gu smiled, affecting modesty.

"Experts, ha! They showed up here with one man dead and another badly wounded — a sorry sight if ever I saw one." The old watchman had no filter whatsoever and said it plainly.

Fang Gu shot him a look. The old man realized he'd put his foot in it, made a hasty farewell gesture, and shuffled off — presumably to go home and finally sleep.

"My apologies — he speaks before he thinks. These past days have been grim. The Undead no longer wait for full dark before attacking, and they've grown unnervingly ferocious. Whatever mission you're here to carry out, please take great care." Fang Gu's manner was pleasant and measured.

"Thank you for the warning, Chief. We've been dispatched to locate a survey team. Once we have any information on their whereabouts, we'll report back immediately. If you happen to know anything on that front..." Squad leader Qin Hu said.

"Ah, them..." Fang Gu clearly had a memory of this and answered at once. "They did come through our village. Warned us about something and moved on — didn't stay. They most likely went to one of the other villages."

"Were they all right when they passed through?" Shi Shaoju asked quickly.

"Fine. Nine of them — all present and accounted for."

"They must have removed all communication equipment when they entered your village. That's almost certainly where we lost contact with them. If you know where they headed afterward, please tell us," Qin Hu said.

"That's right — no communication devices are permitted here. Same rule in every village in the area. As for where they went..." Fang Gu paused briefly. "Hua Village, to the west. I believe one of them mentioned it in passing."

"Understood. Thank you."

When the exchange with the chief concluded, a bald elder sitting off to the side spoke up at a leisurely pace. "Now that you're here, we'd prefer the military district not send yet another squad to come looking for you... While I'm at it — it's at least two full days' travel from here to Hua Village."

"We're Mages."

"I know," the bald man said, putting emphasis on each word.

Qin Hu and Shi Shaoju both frowned. That meant reaching Hua Village would require spending at least one night out in the open.

Under normal circumstances they would have had no qualms about it — but after last night, neither of them had any desire to take that risk again.

"Chief, the Undead have been utterly savage of late, and we can barely hold them off. Yet we must complete our orders. We're hoping you can tell us how to avoid them..." Shi Shaoju spoke with earnest urgency, her eyes fixed on Fang Gu. "Your village lives safely within the Land of the Undead — we've even heard some of your people travel at night. You must have some special knowledge passed down through the generations..."

"Absolutely not." The bald elder objected immediately. "That is our village's secret. It cannot be shared with outsiders."

"Besides," another elder added, "even if we told you, it wouldn't do you any good. You'd best find your own way."

Fang Gu looked as though he genuinely wanted to help, but his face was a mask of helplessness.

After a long silence, he finally spoke. "Sharing our secret is out of the question. But there is another method you might try..." He paused. "Though if anything goes wrong, you'd very likely find yourselves in the middle of a horde of the Undead."