Mo Hua's heart stirred, his gaze sharp as he stared at Zhang Quan. He wanted to see how Zhang Quan would start the ritual, how he would offer the bell, and which Ancestral Master Image he would be worshipping. Moreover, where exactly was the altar that Zhang Quan intended to open? Mo Hua had scoured Corpse Walking Stronghold without finding any trace of an altar. Zhang Quan instructed a corpse cultivator: "Prepare the offering." The corpse cultivator took the order and left. In a short while, he brought in a bandit who was holding a pottery jar filled with blood-stained water. Zhang Quan nodded, then closed the door to the secret chamber. After checking around and confirming the absence of "outsiders," his expression turned solemn, and he walked over to a screen. The screen was old and placed against the wall, painted with withered landscapes in ink. Zhang Quan formed several hand gestures and muttered something. Mists of ink gathered at the top of the screen, rippling wave after wave until they dissipated into nothingness, revealing a hole. Mo Hua was slightly astonished. There was another secret chamber within this secret room? And he had not discovered it himself. It seemed he had underestimated Zhang Quan. This Zhang Quan, the secrets he kept were indeed not few... Mo Hua thought to himself. There was yet another secret chamber behind the screen. From his position on the roof beam, Mo Hua had a poor vantage point and could only glimpse a corner of the room, unable to see its entirety. But even from this one corner, one could see the lavish decoration, the sinister candlelight, various bizarre furnishings, and a table draped with a golden cloth. Mo Hua switched to another roof beam, clinging to the timber, his small head dangling as he peeked inside. Now he could see more clearly. There was indeed an altar inside. An image was enshrined on the altar. It was too far away to see clearly, and Mo Hua dared not focus his gaze on it. With just a hurried glance, he moved his eyes away. The offering was placed on the stage. But they were not proper offerings. Three dishes, one holding hand bones, one foot bones, and the middle one containing a skull. It was uncertain whether these were the bones of an innocent cultivator or those of Zhang Quan's Ancestral Master. Candles were also lit on the altar. The candles were white, but the flame they produced was an eerie green, and as the candlewax dripped, it resembled human tears, hardening at the base of the table. Mo Hua guessed that this must be corpse oil. Besides, there were various strangely shaped objects. Mo Hua was not a corpse cultivator and did not understand them. And below the altar, a coffin was displayed. This coffin was snow white in color. Its material was neither wood nor stone, neither copper nor iron. Mo Hua observed for a long time before realizing that it must be a bone coffin. Immediately, he felt a slight surprise. Could this bone coffin also be used for Corpse Refinement? But what kind of corpse would a bone coffin refine? He had only heard of Walking Corpses, Iron Corpses, Copper Corpses, Silver Corpses, Golden Corpses; he had never heard of a... Bone Corpse. What use could there be for a zombie that was only bones? Mo Hua inwardly scoffed. It was at this moment that he saw Zhang Quan and several corpse cultivators prostrate before the altar, then chanting something: "With minor threats approaching, may the Ancestral Master demonstrate power..." "Lend me your Divine Thought, to refine the Copper Bell..." "...the Copper Bell drinks blood, leaving no bones behind..." "Use the white bones to worship the Ancestral Master, and offer human consciousness for the feast." "Ancestors of the Zhang Family above, I, the junior disciple Zhang Quan, kowtow to you!" ... Mo Hua frowned upon hearing this. The ancestors of the Zhang Family? Then this painting must be dedicated to the forebears of the Zhang Family. If they were forebears, they were also Ancestral Masters. That would mean, from their ancestors, the Zhang Family had possessed the Corpse Refinement method and established their coffin shop, passing it down through generations. Following the "borrow Divine Thought, refine the Copper Bell, offer human consciousness for the feast." Mo Hua listened, feeling somewhat confused. At this moment, Zhang Quan opened the bone coffin, grabbed the blood-offering bandit with a pale hand, and threw him into the coffin. Although the bandit struggled, he was no match for Zhang Quan, a Foundation Building Cultivator. Unable to break free, he was forcefully shut inside the bone coffin. Inside the coffin, he pleaded, begging for mercy, his fingers tearing at the coffin walls, letting out a wretched cry. A moment later, the cries ceased, and there was no more movement inside the bone coffin. When Zhang Quan opened the coffin lid again, the bandit was bereft of life, his eyes wide open in terror, but motionless. His fingers, from scratching, were devoid of nails, covered in blood. Yet, apart from that, there was not a single injury on his body. Just like that, he became lifeless and still. As if someone had directly consumed his Divine Soul. A chill ran through Mo Hua's heart, followed by a sudden realization. The so-called "borrow Divine Thought, refine the Copper Bell." It must refer to using the Divine Thought of the Zhang Family's Ancestral Master to refine the Copper Bell and enhance its Corpse Control capabilities. Among these corpse cultivators, Zhang Quan was a Foundation Building Cultivator, who naturally found controlling an Iron Corpse to be a trivial matter. The other corpse cultivators, however, were only at the peak of the Ninth Level of Qi Refining. For them to control Iron Corpses, which were close to Foundation Establishment strength, was indeed somewhat forced. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦 The only option was to employ this method to borrow Divine Sense, allowing the Divine Thought of the Zhang Family's ancestors, through refinement, to attach to the Copper Bell and assist them in controlling corpses. "Offer human consciousness for the feast." It meant to feed the Zhang Family's Ancestral Master with human consciousness. On the surface, the high altar served as the sacrificial platform, with white bones as the offering. In reality, however, the bone coffin was the true platform, and the living person's consciousness served as the true sacrifice. "So to speak, is this Ancestral Master Picture of the Zhang Family in fact a... Contemplation Map?" Mo Hua's thoughts flickered, and he blinked his eyes. The bandit was used as a sacrifice, his Divine Soul consumed, dying in horror. Zhang Quan pulled the bandit out of the bone coffin and tossed him aside, instructing: "Take him later to feed the corpses." Afterward, he mumbled something under his breath, and then from his Storage Bag, he took out a Copper Bell adorned with blood-colored, exotic Patterns. It was the very Corpse Controlling Bell that Mo Hua had been longing for! Mo Hua's eyes shone brightly. If his guess was correct, inside the Corpse Controlling Bell, there lay the Spiritual Pivot Formation with a first-grade twelve-Pattern design. I must think of a way to snatch that Copper Bell! And also that Contemplation Map—I must find a way to snatch that too! But how to snatch them? It probably won't be easy with Zhang Quan right underneath one's eyelids. Mo Hua frowned and pondered. Meanwhile, Zhang Quan continued to offer the bell in front of the altar. He took out three iron cups, placed them on the platform, then put the Copper Bell into one of the cups, and poured blood water into it. Blood slowly seeped into the copper bell. It was as if the copper bell was drinking the blood. Mo Hua lay on the roof beam, his thoughts racing. "Should I create some disturbance outside to lure Zhang Quan out..." "Or should I call Junior Brother and Junior Sister to directly take it by force?" Before Mo Hua could decide, there was a commotion outside, and someone anxiously shouted: "Householder!" Zhang Quan was somewhat impatient. The person outside then said loudly, "Householder, something big has happened!" Zhang Quan was performing the ritual on the bell and cursed under his breath, instructing a nearby corpse cultivator: "Go see what's happened." The corpse cultivator followed the order and went out, returning with a look of panic: "Householder, it's terrible!" Zhang Quan frowned, "What's wrong?" The corpse cultivator said tremulously, "The formations... they're all broken!" Zhang Quan's eyes bulged, "What the hell do you mean they're all broken??" "It's just... they're all broken, and not a single one can be used..." Zhang Quan felt his blood rise and a piercing pain. He said in disbelief: "How can not a single one be operable?" "It seems... someone has sabotaged them..." A chill settled in Zhang Quan's heart. He had originally thought that with the formations, the Corpse Walking Stronghold would be easy to defend and hard to attack, strong enough to keep enemies at bay. After completing the bell ritual and reviving the Iron Corpse, he thought he could go out and slaughter his enemies. At worst, relying on the formations, it should be no problem to defend the stronghold. But he never imagined that the formations he had put so much effort into were all destroyed? Without the formations, the Corpse Walking Stronghold would be without its external barriers. It would be much easier for others to attack and break in. But how could this be possible? Zhang Quan suppressed the shock and anger in his heart and said, "I'll go take a look." But after he took a few steps, he furrowed his brows again. The bell altar ritual still needed some time to complete. This altar needed supervision, but he did not trust anyone else to guard it. Those who refine corpses are cold-hearted. Not just him, all corpse cultivators are. He couldn't trust anyone inside this stronghold. Zhang Quan's gaze swept around the room and looked over the few corpse cultivators present, one by one. The other corpse cultivators, when they met his gaze, silently lowered their heads, not daring to meet his eyes. Zhang Quan snorted coldly and said slowly: "You all follow me; let's go out and have a look." One corpse cultivator's eyes flickered slightly, and he asked in a low voice: "Householder, shouldn't someone stay to guard the altar..." Zhang Quan's gaze turned cold, "Do you want to stay behind?" The corpse cultivator immediately said in fright, "I dare not." Zhang Quan let out a sneer, "All of you go out. I'll close the door and seal the formation. Not even a mosquito will get in, so don't worry." "Yes." The corpse cultivator bowed and agreed with a somewhat disappointed look. Several corpse cultivators took the body of the robber and left the secret room. Zhang Quan was the last one to leave. When he left, he sealed the screen. He performed a gesture and chanted a spell, and the brushed ink on the screen shifted and then transformed back into a dry ink landscape painting. Zhang Quan still felt uneasy. He checked the area several times before he was reassured and cautiously left the room. Before he left, he also locked the main door. Mo Hua remained motionless on the roof beam. Sure enough, after a while, Zhang Quan came back. He checked inside the room again and, finding no trace of any outsiders, finally relaxed, locked the main door again, and his footsteps faded away in the distance. Mo Hua sneered in his heart: "Do you think these little tricks can fool me?" Every move Zhang Quan made was within his divine sense. Once Mo Hua was certain through his divine sense that Zhang Quan was indeed far away, he gracefully dropped down from the roof beam. The room was silent, and the screen bore no hint of any special aura. It appeared to be just a regular screen. Mo Hua examined the screen closely and had a sudden realization. This screen unexpectedly turned out to be a high-quality spiritual artifact, and its refinement method was very special, no wonder it had eluded his perception. It probably was worth quite a lot of spirit stones... "How did Zhang Quan get it?" Mo Hua was somewhat curious. Was it stolen, robbed, gifted, or passed down from his ancestors? But now was not the time to dwell on this. He had to find a way to open the screen, enter the altar, and steal the copper bell. Mo Hua remembered that before Zhang Quan entered the screen, he chanted some spells and performed some gestures, and then the ink on the screen opened up, revealing an entrance. Mo Hua also tried to mimic the spell, performing gestures and stomping his feet, mumbling gibberish. He himself did not know what he was chanting, just taking a blind chance. But obviously, this was not a matter of luck. The screen didn't budge. Mo Hua scratched his head. Was that incorrect... But he couldn't go and ask Zhang Quan to demonstrate the gestures and incantations again. Mo Hua pondered for a moment. He remembered Mr. Zhuang once mentioned that everything has its appearance and its essence. Performing gestures and chanting spells was just the appearance. The essence was the circulation of internal spiritual power. So it seemed, the screen had its own essence of spiritual power circulation. And on a spiritual artifact, what controls the circulation of spiritual power is the formation... Mo Hua looked closely once more and finally found subtle formation patterns at the corners and edges of the screen. These patterns were very tiny and discreet. What made it more troublesome was that Mo Hua didn't recognize them. Even with divine sense, after deducing and calculating the complete patterns, Mo Hua still didn't know what formation it was. He could only roughly guess based on his knowledge of formations. The screen's formation seemed to be related to sound and visualization. Chanting spells represented sound, while performing gestures symbolized visualization. Only by getting both the spell and the gesture right, with correct sound and motion, could the formation be activated. But as for the specific principles of the formation used, whether it involved the Five Elements or other formation method rules, Mo Hua was unsure. "Formations are profound and intricate; it seems there's still much I need to learn..." Mo Hua took out paper and pen, noting down the patterns for later study and contemplation when he had time.