The night was silent.

Having rushed around all day, the Taoist tied a rope around his waist, connecting him to the branches of this big tree.

About seven or eight meters above the ground, there was a Y-shaped fork in the tree that just allowed him to lean half against it.

The mountain forest was dense, and this area was higher up. Looking down, under the moonlight, the leaves below reflected soft white light. The twinkling spots resembled ocean waves, giving one an inexplicable sense of calm.

The Taoist watched for a while, then slowly closed his eyes. The night wind blew gently, rustling the leaves, and the insects chirped like hypnotic music, slowly bringing sleepiness as he drifted into a dream.

"Qingyang, how did you find us?" His senior brother looked at him with surprise, and behind him were the second senior brother and others, gathering around.

He was about to step forward excitedly, but in the corner of his eye, he clearly saw the bite marks from zombies on his senior brother's neck.

He shuddered and slowly backed away.

"Qingyang, come over, you're the only one left." His senior brother's voice was as rich and loving as ever, just like in the Daoist Temple.

"Qingyang, come quickly."

The second senior brother waved and called to him.

But as he lifted his head, he suddenly found his senior brothers' faces had decayed, showing zombie-like appearances.

He wanted to ask his senior brothers what they had encountered, why they were infected by zombies but still able to speak.

But his throat felt clogged, unable to make a sound.

"Qingyang, come quickly." His senior brother spoke again, and even from his decayed face, it seemed he was smiling.

"If you don't come over, I'll come to you." Suddenly, his senior brothers started walking towards him.

He looked at his two senior brothers, continuously retreating, raising the sword in his hand and aiming it at them.

"Qingyang, what's wrong? Put down the sword, let's go back to the Daoist Temple together and never go down the mountain again."

In a daze, he saw his senior brother revert to his original appearance, without any zombie traits on his face.

Hoo hoo—

Perhaps he was too tense, Qingyang put down the sword, seeing his senior brother back to normal relieved him.

He wanted to speak, to say he had thought they had turned into zombies, but he couldn't speak the words.

Looking at the normal again senior brothers, Qingyang sheathed his sword and walked over.

"Qingyang, it's okay now. I know you must be exhausted running such a long distance to find us." His senior brother's voice was gentle, placing his hand on his shoulder.

His senior brother's words made him feel a bit aggrieved. Since parting, he was tricked by many survivors, living rough, constantly guarded against zombies, always tense.

He was too tired.

Suddenly, he felt the hand on his shoulder slowly press with force.

He looked at his senior brother with confusion, only to see his senior brother's face return to zombie-like, then biting his throat.

"Cough cough cough...."

Blood foamed from his throat, spraying fresh blood from his mouth. He looked at his second senior brother also turning zombie-like, seemingly wanting to devour him.

"No!" he suddenly shouted.

At the same time, he sat up on the tree fork, opened his eyes.

His forehead was covered with a fine layer of sweat, his eyes brimming with terror.

After several seconds.

Roar—

The zombie's roar from below woke him up, surveying his surroundings. The moon was directly overhead, he sat on a tree seven or eight meters high, still tied with a rope around his waist.

Gudong!

He swallowed hard, his throat dry and uncomfortable, as if it would catch fire.

He took a gourd from his waist, opened the gourd mouth, and drank several big gulps of water.

The burning sensation in his throat subsided significantly.

Hoo hoo—

He breathed heavily, when sweeping his gaze below the tree, seeing the zombie reaching out, trying to grab him, but he was unreachable because he was seven or eight meters up the tree.

The Taoist glanced and no longer paid attention.

Zombies can't climb trees, if they could climb trees, it would be troublesome.

So he plugged the gourd and hugged his shoulders with both arms, quietly watching the moonlit forest.

Feeling mysteriously sad, it had been half a year without news of his senior brothers.

The journey was unusually difficult.

Before descending the mountain, his senior brother said they would save mankind and temper their Daoist Heart.

But a wave of zombies separated them, and he embarked on the quest to find his senior brothers. Later encounters with survivors disappointed him greatly.

Such mankind, might not be worth saving.

At times, he felt lost, not knowing who to be, what to do.

But thinking of the people he met during the day, he was sure he didn't know them.

Yet they saved him, causing a significant change within.

Tempering of Daoist Heart, maybe this was what his senior brother talked about.

Unable to locate his senior brothers anywhere, most importantly, he didn't know where to look, running around randomly for over half a year with no clue.

Deciding to find those people, maybe that was a direction too.

Qingyang murmured quietly, then leaned back on the tree again and closed his eyes.

The zombie below kept growling, but it didn't affect him anymore. He had become accustomed to the zombie growls near his ears, capable of sleeping under any circumstance.