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120 Cloud Top Heavenly Palace (Part 1) – Chapter 5 – The Initial Puzzle

At this moment, the entire underground palace was engulfed in extreme darkness. Looking up, the beam of the flashlight illuminated a sea of statues of Arhats, with countless eyes staring down at Chen Pi Ah Si. The pupils of the Arhats twisted into grotesque expressions due to the sudden change in light, and the atmosphere instantly turned eerie.

Chen Pi Ah Si cursed the bald monks a few more times in his heart, thinking that they must have done this on purpose. He didn’t have time to dwell on it any longer and searched around a few more times, but still couldn’t find any statue that was missing.

Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he slowly realized where the problem lay. He directed the flashlight towards the position of the white-faced Arhat that had caused his eyes to hurt. This particular Arhat statue was distinctly different from the others, and the problem must lie here.

It was possible that someone had pushed down a statue above and replaced it with the white-faced Arhat facing upward, which would explain why this statue was so different from the rest.

Who the hell would be so bored as to do this? Moreover, how could they have accurately known where he was coming from and positioned the statue’s face right at the spot where he descended? It couldn’t be anyone outside the field of expertise!

Could it be that he was entering a second palace? Had someone already been here and set up this bizarre thing to scare him?

The beam of Chen Pi Ah Si’s flashlight shone on the plump white-faced Arhat as he weighed the heavy treasure box in his hand. If this was indeed a second palace, why wouldn’t they take this thing away? It was impossible; he must have been overthinking it. This was a trap set by those bald monks to lead him astray.

Chen Pi Ah Si calmed himself down. At his age, after all this turmoil, he had reached his limit. He coughed a few times and thought about moving the flashlight away from the Arhat to check his surroundings for an easier way to escape.

At that moment, a horrifying scene unfolded.

The instant the flashlight moved away from the Arhat, Chen Pi Ah Si suddenly saw that pale face twist around. The flashlight moved too quickly, and the moment was gone, but Chen Pi Ah Si saw it clearly. He was not the kind of person to doubt his own vision; his mind exploded with fear, and he nearly collapsed to the ground. In a flash, he shouted to bolster his courage and, in a panic, flipped his hand to unleash his iron bullets like a machine gun.

Relying on his earlier memory, he fired off a dozen shots. The bullets ricocheted around him, and he thought that the eerie white-faced Arhat had jumped down. In his confusion, he fumbled for an old pistol he had hidden away for years.

He was genuinely scared. This gun hadn’t been used since its liberation years ago, and he had never dared to take it out. Now, knowing it was useless, he used it to bolster his courage, which showed just how lost he felt.

You could say that pulling out a decades-old gun was a rare opportunity, and facing such a bizarre situation would be difficult even for his grandfather. Although Chen Pi Ah Si was seasoned in dealing with life-and-death situations, he still panicked when confronted with something so incomprehensible.

In his frenzy, he noticed an inconspicuous low stone door nearby. Climbing back through the theft hole was impossible; he had to find a way to escape!

He crouched down and squeezed through a low door, entering a stone chamber. The yellow peak, resembling a hill, extended from the wall, and the scale was indeed considerable. What had originally been placed in the stone chamber was now unrecognizable. After running a few steps, his foot got stuck in a beehive, and he fell hard, landing awkwardly. His flashlight flew far away, but he didn’t bother to retrieve it; he just grabbed a box and dashed forward.

Beyond the stone chamber was a long passage, which served as the formal entrance to the underground palace. It was pitch black, and he couldn’t see anything. Gritting his teeth, he stumbled forward, not knowing what he was stepping on, until the ground began to incline upwards. After running another dozen steps, he collided with something in the darkness, and all he heard was a sound of crashing and falling as he burst out, rolling onto the ground.

Outside, flames were roaring. He got up and looked around, realizing he had crashed through a broken wall. It seemed the concealed entrance to the pagoda-like underground palace was actually hidden within a wall. Just as he was surprised, several Miao knives were pressed against his neck, and the items in his hands were snatched away.

Chen Pi A Si was exhausted to his limits and unable to resist. He received a kick to his knee and fell to the ground. Looking up, he saw the Miao youths he had deceived surrounding him with torches. The leader looked at him with some anger, clearly having searched around and realized he had been tricked.

Chen Pi A Si was panting heavily, and though it wasn’t an act, he exaggerated his condition to mislead them, coughing continuously. When the Miao people asked him questions, he kept waving his hands, pretending to be too anxious to speak.

Seeing him so fatigued, the Miao people exchanged glances, unsure of what to do. The other Miao were curious about where he had emerged from, so they raised their torches and peered inside.

After a few minutes of recovery, Chen Pi A Si noticed that the monstrous white-faced Luohan hadn’t chased after him, which made him suspicious. At this moment, he had regained some strength, and without realizing it, he suddenly pulled out an iron ball and jumped up, firing rapidly and knocking all the torches to the ground.

The Miao people were thrown into a panic. Chen Pi A Si sneered coldly, his killing intent rising as he pulled out a box, intending to kill. Just then, he felt a chill from the side, and his hand went cold. When he touched it, he realized his finger that was on the trigger was gone.

Chen Pi A Si had never suffered such a loss before, and he was filled with terror. Before he could react, another cold wind swept by. The last thing he saw was the calm gaze of the Miao leader and the swirling qilin tattoo on his body. That was the last scene he witnessed, as the next moment, his two eyes were slashed blind; the Miao leader’s earth knife sliced horizontally through the middle of his left eye, severing the nasal bone and exiting through the right eye, rendering both eyes useless in an instant.

It was over; he had encountered a master. Chen Pi A Si sighed inwardly, collapsed to the ground, and fainted from the pain.

Old Hai said, “Those Miao people handed over Chen Pi A Si to the local militia. One of his comrades from the uprising happened to be in charge of the militia there at the time, which saved him from being executed. Later, that treasure box was sent to the museum. When the people there heard about it, they sent someone to check it out, but I don’t know what the outcome was. However, when they opened that treasure box, it turned out that the last layer wasn’t a relic, but this copper fish.” He tapped the newspaper, “Isn’t that strange? At that time, it was a shocking event. When Chen Si Ye found out, he cursed loudly, claiming he had been played. That treasure box might have been opened by someone generations ago, and the things inside were lost.”

As I listened to Old Hai’s story, I had unknowingly downed a glass of liquor and felt a bit lightheaded. I asked, “What evidence does he have?”

Old Hai, while sucking on a snail, replied, “I don’t know. Later, Chen Pi A Si became a monk in Guangxi. I only found out about these things through some old connections, little brother. This news isn’t cheap, so don’t expect to take advantage of me in the future.”

I cursed inwardly and then asked him about the auction he came to Hangzhou for.

After finishing the last snail, Old Hai smacked his lips and said, “Back then, it was all a mess, and this fish ended up who knows where. Well, today, someone actually brought it out for auction. I often attend auctions, and I have a bit of a reputation in the industry, so they sent me a brochure and an invitation. You see, this fish is on the auction list. I noticed you seemed interested in it, so I got you an invitation as well. Regardless of whether it’s useful or not, it’s a good thing to see who wants to buy this fish.”

When I saw the starting bid, I laughed. Ten million? Only a lunatic would buy that. I still have two of them; if someone buys them, I would have twenty million. The self-promotion in today’s auction houses is just too outrageous; they need others to believe it, too.

Although Old Hai’s information was good, it wasn’t what I wanted to know, and for a moment, we fell silent. We each lit a cigarette, lost in our own thoughts. The waiter, seeing that we weren’t leaving, came over to clear the plates. I had no choice but to casually ask how his business was going. Old Hai talked about wanting to see what I was up to, but it was hard to tell if he was sincere. I said it was better to pass; I wasn’t planning to go back to the fields myself, so he, being an old man, shouldn’t get involved, lest he drag me down with him.

Having drunk enough, I asked him to rest after taking the invitation. That evening, Qin Haiting insisted on going out to have fun. As the host, I couldn’t refuse, so I drove them around for a bit and we had some snacks. But it was really too cold, and they all went back to sleep early.

When I got home, I didn’t go upstairs. Suddenly, I felt a sense of desolation in my empty house. I had never felt this way before, which struck me as strange. Could it be that these recent experiences had aged me? I found it amusing, so I drove straight to the teahouse run by my second uncle to have some late-night tea.

In the teahouse, while sipping tea and reading my grandfather’s notes, I couldn’t help but think about the events that had transpired, feeling utterly confused. The main issue was that these three fish were not from the same dynasty, and their geographical locations were so far apart. Setting aside the purpose of these three fish, there was absolutely no clue at the places they were discovered that would lead anyone to make a guess.

The ancients must have had a purpose for doing this; otherwise, the scale of it was too grand for an ordinary person to undertake. I pondered back and forth, realizing that the key was still not knowing what his purpose was. If I could just understand the purpose, I would have a direction for my investigation.

I sighed, wishing my grandfather were still alive, or that my third uncle were here; at least I would have someone to discuss this with. Now, alone, I was starting to feel a bit frustrated with all these questions.

Suddenly, I caught a whiff of something burnt. Looking down, I saw a travel map of China in the magazine I had borrowed. As I thought, I absentmindedly drew on it with my cigarette, inadvertently burning holes in the three locations. By the time I realized what I had done, it was too late. I quickly stubbed out the cigarette and glanced around, relieved to see that the waiter hadn’t noticed my vandalism.

Although my second uncle is a relative, he has a very eccentric personality. If I damaged his things, he would definitely get angry, especially with the magazines here, each of which is quite precious and part of his collection. Damaging one would mean I would have to hear about it for years.

I pretended as if nothing had happened and returned the magazine. Just as I set it down, an old man took it and started flipping through it. Worried that he might discover my damage, I didn’t dare to walk far and settled on a nearby sofa. I watched as the old man flipped to the page I had burned, and upon seeing it, he let out a sound of acknowledgment.

Realizing I had been discovered, I was about to make a quick exit when I heard him chuckle softly and say, “Who burnt a feng shui layout here? That’s really bad karma.”

119 Cloud Top Heavenly Palace (Part One) – Chapter Four – Added One

Chen Pi Ah Si felt increasingly alarmed as he thought about it, but the person was already nearly fifty or sixty years old at that time, and his experience and courage were naturally beyond my comparison. After feeling scared, he steadied his mind and thought to himself, “What are you staring at, you damn donkey?” He swiftly pulled out a few iron pellets, braced himself with his feet, and fired two shots directly at the white-faced Luohan statue that was facing the sky.

As mentioned earlier, Chen Pi Ah Si’s philosophy of life was to strike first. This is a lesson my grandfather had told me more than once; it’s the simplest yet most practical principle for those who roam the rivers and lakes. The two iron pellets were fired without holding back, producing two dull thuds as they struck the Luohan statue’s eyes, causing both eye sockets of the statue to crack open. The iron pellets flew out and fell to the bottom of the Mirror Palace.

If it were a person, they would have been seriously blinded, which shows how ruthless this action was. Although the Luohan statue was made of clay, it couldn’t withstand such a blow. At this moment, the eyes of the statue turned into two deep pits, looking very hollow and strange, but compared to the feeling just before, it was already much better.

Chen Pi Ah Si let out a breath, feeling a cold sneer in his heart, thinking to himself, “These damn monks, talking about the four emptiness, yet they are still here using tricks to scare people?” He then took out a gecko’s claw from his pocket, one end hooked onto the curved wooden ceiling, while the other was tied to his ankle with a single strand of walrus skin rope. When he released it, the elastic walrus skin rope stretched downward. Using walrus skin rope was a conclusion drawn from Chen Pi Ah Si’s years of tomb raiding experience; its strength was second only to steel rope, but it could stretch. Plus, with Chen Pi Ah Si’s short and slender build, wrapping it around his waist for just a dozen turns made it invisible under his clothes, allowing him to deal with depths of about ten meters.

However, the “Mirror Palace” was over ten meters deep, and Chen Pi Ah Si let the rope down to its limit, but there was still a long way to the bottom of the palace.

From this perspective, he could already see the outline of things below. The base of the palace at the bottom seemed to be made of white marble, and due to years of earthquakes and natural erosion, there were many unknown fragments scattered about. In the center of the palace’s base stood a miniature white pagoda, which was either jade or ivory, covered with a semi-transparent gauze “treasure canopy,” making it appear hazy.

Throughout his life, Chen Pi Ah Si had limited knowledge of Buddhist pagodas, which was also related to the illiteracy of the generation before the liberation. There is an old saying among the local scholars in Changsha: “Ten thousand noble houses cannot compare to a pagoda.” This means that the treasures found in a pagoda’s underground chamber are often more luxurious than those in the tombs of ten thousand noble houses. Although Chen Pi Ah Si had heard this saying, he didn’t fully grasp its meaning. If it were me, I would have already known what was beneath at that moment.

Beneath the miniature pagoda should be the eight-layered treasure box for holding Buddha’s bones or relics, which consists of eight nested boxes. This item is specifically used in Buddhism, and with the relics inside, it represents the three thousand worlds and the six paths of reincarnation. Regardless of whether the bones pressed below were real Buddha bones or jade-like shadow bones, that eight-layered treasure box alone was something whose value was beyond calculation.

Hearing this, I felt a bit confused. If Chen Pi Ah Si really stole the Eight Treasures Box from the underground palace, then how could these things appear in the newspaper? Did he abandon the treasure when it was within his grasp for some reason? Given his character, that seems highly unlikely.

Old Hai didn’t notice that I was lost in thought and continued to speak passionately. However, his narration was rather verbose, and I couldn’t interject, so I had to listen as he continued to ramble on.

After seeing the pagoda, although Chen Pi Ah Si didn’t yet know what was below, he was certain it wouldn’t be anything bad. Now, if he could just get down there, he would naturally be able to return with a full load, but how could he get down?

Unfortunately, he hadn’t brought enough ropes. Had he known this would happen, he would have turned back earlier and prepared properly before returning, avoiding this difficult situation.

He shone his flashlight to the side, hoping to swing over to the edge of the underground palace and then climb down along the statues of the Arhats. He carefully examined the height with his flashlight, estimating how far down it went. Suddenly, around the pagoda, he saw some strange things that looked like a pile of yellow earth scattered on the white jade floor of the underground palace. He couldn’t tell if it was accidentally dropped when sealing the palace or if it was from when he had just pried open the top with a line.

Upon closer inspection, he felt a sudden jolt in his heart and couldn’t help but curse under his breath.

It turned out that what was at the bottom of the palace wasn’t yellow earth, but a large mound of earth that was clearly a hornet’s nest. Following the direction of the mound, he could see a half-person-high stone door at the edge of the underground palace, which was very well concealed; the mound had “grown” in from there.

It seemed that there were additional underground structures surrounding this “Mirror Palace,” and it was very likely that they hadn’t been completely sealed off, resulting in these insects treating it as a summer resort with warm winters and cool summers. From this vantage point, the scale of the nest didn’t appear too large, but the part inside the low door was likely very terrifying. No wonder this hornet’s nest was so huge; in an underground man-made structure, it was sheltered from the elements, truly a “good location”—even the old insects would be aware of feng shui.

The piece of curved wood that he had just sawed off was stuck between several Arhat statues in the lower layer, and if it had fallen onto the nest, he would have been hanging here like a sausage, unable to escape quickly, and if the hornets stung him to death, it would surely leave a thousand-year joke for future generations.

However, this created a problem. Once his feet touched the ground, even if he moved like smoke, it would be impossible to move such a small tower in such a confined space without disturbing these ground hornets.

Chen Pi Ah Si realized that it was impossible to go down; the only way to get the things up was through one method.

At this point, it’s necessary to mention the background of Chen Pi Ah Si. He grew up in a fishing village along the coast of Zhejiang. He fled to Changsha when the Japanese invaded, so his Changsha dialect was not very “authentic.” However, he was exceptionally clever; historically, local craftsmen rarely passed on their skills to outsiders, making him a rare case.

When Chen Pi Ah Si was in Haiyan, he had already developed a unique skill, which was catching crabs on the tidal flats. Of course, he didn’t catch them by hand; he used a tool called the “Nine-Claw Hook” to catch crabs.

This thing is similar to the flying tiger claws from martial arts films, or the three-pronged claws used by special forces for rock climbing. However, this claw has nine hooks arranged in a dense circular formation. When catching crabs, you tie a rope to the tail of the hooks, and when you see a crab pop up on the mudflat, you fling it out, and one hook catches one crab. Then, with a tug, the crab flies back and falls into the basket.

According to my grandfather’s notes, this technique is so precise that from twenty meters away, you can hook a raw egg with a flick of your hand without breaking it—it’s simply a divine skill. If it’s farther away, you have to use a stick to fling it, but it’s still very accurate.

At this moment, Chen Pi Ah Si was at a loss and had no other choice but to grit his teeth and use his signature skill. He first swung to one side and climbed down layer by layer along the Arhat statue. When he was close enough, he took out the nine-claw hook, took a deep breath, and with a very small arc, the claws snagged onto the treasure canopy. Fortunately, this thing wasn’t made of the common blue stone; it was quite light. Chen Pi Ah Si lifted it and tossed it onto the head of the nearby Arhat statue. With a change of force in his hand, the hook came loose and returned to him.

Next, he needed to remove the jade or the pagoda, but no matter what material it was, he couldn’t lift it with the nine-claw hook. Chen Pi Ah Si flung out the nine-claw hook and snagged the miniature pagoda spire, but after tugging a few times, it didn’t budge.

It weighed at least five hundred pounds, if not half a ton, Chen Pi Ah Si cursed inwardly.

He swept his flashlight over the tower and saw four petite columns at the base. This tower must have been constructed in proportion to the one that collapsed on top, so the structure should be similar. These four columns supported all the weight of the tower, and the treasure box was right in the middle of the columns. However, the angle was off; otherwise, he should have been able to hook it up if he focused carefully.

At this point, Chen Pi Ah Si was feeling a bit anxious. He estimated that he had been down for about four hours. He had vaguely heard a few whistle signals earlier, and it was possible that the Miao people were already nearby. He didn’t have time to hesitate or think of a solution.

He pressed down on his anxiety, his mind heated, and a malicious thought arose. He flicked his wrist and shot out two iron pellets. The pellets struck the small columns at the base of the tower, shattering them. Then he leaped, landing on one side of the tower, and with a burst of strength, he used his momentum to tilt the tower to one side. The other two columns, already under uneven pressure, broke instantly, causing the tower to sink, and the tower body cracked apart from the base.

Chen Pi Ah Si crouched on the tower, controlling the force as the tower tilted slowly under its own weight. When he saw the corner of the treasure box appear beneath the tower, he flicked the nine-claw hook and snagged it from under the tower. Then he reeled in the hook and flung it out again, hooking onto the side of the Arhat statue, stabilizing himself like pulling on a rope.

This entire series of actions took only three seconds, but he didn’t expect that the Arhat statue wouldn’t be able to support the weight of the tower and himself. With one pull, the Arhat statue first wobbled and then actually fell off the wall.

The area below was almost like a beehive; if he fell down like this, it would be like dropping directly into the beehive, which would mean certain death.

In a flash, Chen Pi A Si exerted all his strength to pull the Luohan statue towards himself, while tossing the Ba Chong Bao Han into the air. In this lightning-fast exchange, he caught the Luohan statue securely in his hands, but inevitably, the top of the pagoda crashed heavily against the wall of the underground palace, causing more Luohan statues to be knocked down from the tilted pagoda.

This time, Chen Pi A Si found himself at a loss. He watched helplessly as a row of Luohan statues fell into the yellow jacket nest, kicking up a cloud of dust, and the nest was nearly crushed and cracked open.

In the chaos, he had no choice but to drop the Luohan statue in his hands and catch the treasure box instead, instinctively shining his flashlight at the wasp nest. He thought to himself, it’s over; I’m done for. Not dying on the battlefield, but here in the underground palace, just as my ancestors warned.

As the flashlight beam illuminated the area, he was surprised to find that the cracks did not unleash a swarm of wasps as he had imagined. Instead, he saw that the crevices of the nest were dry and devoid of moisture, resembling an abandoned wasp nest.

However, what sent chills down his spine was the sight of a dark mass wedged in one of the cracks. It looked like something that had been wrapped up during the nest-building process—he couldn’t tell if it was a corpse or the remains of an animal.

He jumped down to take a closer look and pried it open, revealing a Luohan statue identical to the ones around him, but shattered into several pieces. It seemed that it had fallen before the nest was fully formed and had ended up encased within it.

Chen Pi A Si looked up. Although he hadn’t paid attention when he came down, he felt certain that he hadn’t noticed any missing Luohan statues. Where had this one fallen from?

118 Cloud Top Heavenly Palace (Part 1) – Chapter 3 – Mirror Palace

Originally, dead bodies were the most ordinary thing for Chen Pi A Si. Not to mention the dried corpses that came out of graves, he had killed so many people that he probably couldn’t even count them. When he turned over and saw a corpse, he felt a sense of relief and thought to himself, “What unfortunate soul died here? You’re already like dried squid and still trying to scare people.”

Even with such thoughts, Chen Pi A Si still had an iron pellet in his hand. His skill in throwing iron pellets was something he had trained himself since childhood. He could hit the target every time and his speed in throwing was incredibly fast; an ordinary person might not even see the motion of his hand before getting blinded by the shot.

Looking at the attire of the Miao person, it was clear that the corpse had been dead for at least two or three years, if not ten. The clothes were mostly tattered, but thanks to the dense ferns and creeping vines that wrapped around it, some characteristics of Miao clothing were preserved. However, despite being exposed to the sun and rain, how was it that the body hadn’t completely decayed but instead seemed a bit dehydrated?

The belly of the corpse was still moving, and the more Chen Pi A Si looked, the more uneasy he felt. A person like him had his own unique way of doing things; if it were me, I would have definitely run away. However, Chen Pi A Si believed in striking first. In a moment of thought, he had already fired three iron pellets, all hitting the corpse’s belly. He thought, “No matter what it is, I’ll just kill it.”

The iron pellets had immense force, almost splitting the corpse in half. As the lower half fell away, Chen Pi A Si saw a mass of yellow unknown goo inside, wrapped around numerous eggs. Many of the eggs had already hatched, and a pile of white worms were wriggling inside. Surrounding them were some things he was very familiar with—beehives. Then, from the gaping wound of the corpse, a large number of yellow hornets crawled out.

Chen Pi A Si cursed under his breath, realizing he was unlucky; it turned out that the yellow hornets had made a nest inside the corpse. Yellow hornets were highly venomous and extremely aggressive, and now he was in trouble.

As a layer of black mist rose, the yellow hornets began to swarm. In a moment of panic, Chen Pi A Si quickly dug out the folding shovel he always carried with him, scooped up a handful of wet mud from the ground, and slapped it against the wound of the corpse, sealing off the swarm of yellow hornets that were pouring out. Then he turned and ran.

The yellow hornets that had already emerged rushed towards him. He flailed his clothes to swat them away while running aimlessly. Fortunately, his quick action with the shovel only cost him a few stings. When he finally stopped to catch his breath and brushed off the remaining yellow hornets from his body, he realized he had no idea where he had run to.

Chen Pi A Si pulled out the stingers stuck in his body, wincing in pain, while still wondering how yellow hornets could make a nest inside a human corpse. These venomous wasps typically built their nests underground, like ants. In the deep rainforests of Guangxi, one could sometimes see beehives that looked like small hills. Others might think they were ant nests, and upon opening them in search of ants, they would find themselves enveloped by a swarm of bees.

In places like Guangxi and Yunnan, there were many things about insects that the world didn’t understand, and Chen Pi A Si could only blame his bad luck. As he dealt with his stings and surveyed his surroundings, he suddenly froze after climbing over a hill.

A massive stone tower lay at the base of the hill before him, estimated to be hexagonal in shape (indistinguishable), exuding an imposing presence with its wide eaves and broad beams. Scraping away the moss and entwined plants on top, he found that the intricate stone carvings on the tower were exquisite, but it was evident that the tower had been burned, with all parts showing black scorch marks, likely from a fire.

The body, top, and finial of the tower had all cracked and fallen to the ground, breaking into several pieces. Due to the weight of the tower, a significant portion was pressed deep into the rainforest soil, with countless trees crushed beneath it.

Chen Pi A Si, experienced in such matters, knew that a tower generally consists of an underground chamber, a base, a body, a top, and a finial. The finial at the very top should have elements like a Sumeru pedestal, an inverted lotus, a bowl, a circular wheel, and a jewel. There might also be a canopy, a halo, a crescent moon, and a jewel above the circular wheel. In short, there should be a jewel-like object at the top of the tower, which would be quite valuable.

He made his way to the finial beside the tower. It seemed that when the finial fell, it might have struck a massive “spruce” tree along the way, causing it to break mid-air and its top to plunge into the ground, shattering the Sumeru pedestal. Chen Pi A Si assessed the damage and concluded that the jewel had likely become a “jewel cake” and was rendered useless.

Returning to the base of the tower, he found a half-broken wall still standing. Crawling inside, he encountered a chaotic scene of rubble, with the underground chamber surely lying beneath. Unfortunately, not only had this place been sealed off during the tower’s construction, but it was also covered by a large amount of debris and broken bricks from the collapse above. With just a folding shovel, it would take him at least six months to dig into the underground chamber.

Chen Pi A Si glanced at his compass. It was evening when he descended, and the sky had grown quite dark. Now the moon was up, and without a torch, he had walked so far that he had no idea how to return. It seemed he would have to pretend to be lost and wait for the local tribesmen to come to his aid. With that in mind, he first gathered broken branches and dry leaves at the tower base to start a large bonfire to attract attention, while climbing to the highest point of the tower’s base to see what the surroundings were like.

From what he had observed from “Sleeping Buddha Ridge” and what he could see now, he deduced that the area he was in was characterized by a chaotic growth of trees. The ground was likely lower than the surrounding area because, during the filling of the underground chamber with “mixed fill,” the special climate of Guangxi had resulted in overly moist soil that had not compacted well. As moisture seeped down, many bubbles formed in the soil, and with significant vibrations, the mud layer collapsed like a puffed bun.

With this reasoning, Chen Pi A Si concluded two things: first, the underground chamber was large but not deep; he could definitely reach it in less than twenty minutes. Second, the soil should be relatively loose, requiring minimal physical effort.

At this point, he hesitated, contemplating whether to enter the underground chamber now or return later. It seemed that coming back wouldn’t be too difficult. However, like all tomb raiders, Chen Pi A Si knew that with something down there, it would be impossible to resist his curiosity.

Finally, he gritted his teeth and thought, “Damn it, I want what’s down there! If that group of temple folks finds this place, I’ll kill them all and toss them into the underground chamber—no one will ever know.”

Chen Pi Ah Si unfolded his folding shovel. He didn’t bring a Luoyang shovel and had no way to pinpoint the location, and the pagoda was indeed a rare object. There was no coffin inside, and even if he could determine it, there was none. Relying on his intuition, he began to dig a hole along the base of the pagoda.

Before long, he reached the ceiling of the underground palace. It wasn’t made of stone; it was a wooden ceiling made from a whole tree trunk that had been squared off. He was overjoyed and used a saw to cut off a corner. The fallen wood piece dropped into the underground palace, and soon he heard a thud. He hurriedly shone his flashlight inside.

The “Mirror Palace” was symmetrical, meaning that however many layers the pagoda had above, there should be the same number of layers in the underground palace below, making it extremely deep. Looking down from above, there were no floors between the layers; the very bottom was pitch black.

When he shone the flashlight, he saw a mass of white mist-like substance, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was. Chen Pi Ah Si recalled what the Miao people had said about the monsters being sealed beneath the pagoda, and a hint of worry crept in. However, this worry quickly vanished as excitement surged within him. He felt that the air in the underground palace was fine and, with his feet resting on the wooden ceiling, he executed a “hanging gold hook” move, head first, into the underground palace, putting all his weight on his feet.

Once inside, he adjusted his position and shone the light on the other side of the wooden ceiling of the underground palace. This type of underground palace was functional and didn’t shy away from setting traps like ancient tombs or having excessive decorations. After scanning around, he found that on the other side of the wooden ceiling, at the ceiling position, there were numerous scriptures.

The scriptures were carved into the wood and sealed with vermilion lacquer, written in Sanskrit. Chen Pi Ah Si barely recognized a few Chinese characters, so he couldn’t understand the scriptures at all. However, he instinctively felt that these should be related to suppressing demons or subduing monsters, and he couldn’t help but wonder if something truly was sealed down there.

Looking further down, he could see more clearly. Each layer had a circle of protruding extensions, and from above, each layer looked a bit like a staircase. On each layer, there were life-sized, colorful sculptures of arhats, intricately crafted and vividly colored. All the sculptures faced downward, gazing at the very bottom of the underground palace. There were more than a dozen layers in total, filled with various poses of arhat statues, totaling over a hundred.

The nearest arhat statue was not far from him. Hanging upside down, Chen Pi Ah Si suddenly felt a chill when he saw the expressions on the arhat statues. It turned out that all the arhat statues were showing their whites of the eyes, with an indescribable eerie expression, different from what he usually saw.

Upon closer inspection, he realized that the reflection from the flashlight was too intense due to the lifelike colors, creating an illusion. However, as the beam of his flashlight swept over, the arhat statues instantly appeared extremely menacing, as if their expressions had changed, looking terrifying. He couldn’t help but wonder if the designers had intended for them to look that way.

Thus, while looking at these arhats, Chen Pi Ah Si felt very uneasy, yet he didn’t understand what he was truly afraid of, leading him to have thoughts of retreating. He continued to move his flashlight around underground, hoping to see something beyond the arhat statues. At that moment, his hand suddenly stiffened, and the beam of light from the flashlight froze on a particular spot.

At a protrusion about six or seven levels above him, he spotted a strange statue of an Arhat. This statue was different from the others; its face was not looking down but was raised, directly facing Chen Pi A Si, staring intently into his eyes. When the beam of the flashlight illuminated it, it revealed a grotesque white face. If it weren’t for the fact that it was motionless, he would almost think he had encountered a ghost.

Chen Pi A Si was instantly frightened to the point of feeling cold all over, unable to move even a muscle, and he felt his legs begin to weaken, causing him to slide downwards.

Speaking of ghosts, Chen Pi A Si was not really afraid. Having killed so many people, he could be said to be extremely sinful, yet he had never encountered even one of them seeking revenge. However, people from his era had varying degrees of superstitious beliefs, and Chen Pi A Si believed that he had survived all these years thanks to the protection of his ancestors.

(People need to have some belief; those in the underworld often worship Guan Gong. Tomb raiders from the northern schools worship Zhong Kui, while those from the south generally do not follow this practice, but around Changsha, there is a saying that they worshipped “Huang Wang” for a period of time.)

(What is Huang Wang? Huang Wang refers to Huang Chao, the one from “The City is All Covered in Golden Armor.” Why worship this person? According to the elders, there are a few reasons. First, he can be considered the champion of murder. It is said in folklore that Huang Chao killed eight hundred thousand people, and those who count are doomed. What does this mean? It means that his killings were measured; he did not consider his task complete until he had killed eight hundred thousand. There are also stories, whether in notes or as a form of localized folklore, that Huang Chao is the reincarnation of a certain Arhat (not Yi Jianlian). This figure, to save his mother, released eight hundred thousand starving ghosts from hell, so the Buddha allowed him to reincarnate, killing them back one by one. In other words, he returned to recruit migrant workers for the Buddha.)

He was not afraid of the statue’s face looking up, but the fact that this face was so coincidentally directed at him made him feel uneasy. Could it be that the builders at that time had calculated that he would come down from this position to dig a hole, and specifically placed this thing here to scare him?

117 Cloud Top Heavenly Palace (Part 1) – Chapter 2 – The First Shot of 2007

My relationship with Uncle Hai isn’t close enough for us to talk about everything. Usually, we just communicate about business matters. Once we got more familiar, I started calling him “Uncle” to show him respect. However, when he suddenly tried to get closer to me, I felt a bit strange. But I couldn’t show it in front of the young girl. I casually agreed and asked her, “What did he say? Did he find out something?”

Qin Haiting smiled mischievously, “My uncle said he would tell you later. I’m not sure what’s going on either, so don’t go asking around.”

I cursed inwardly at that old schemer; he probably wanted to take advantage of me again.

The next day, Uncle Hai indeed arrived. I picked him up from the train station and took him to the hotel I had booked for him. On the way, I asked him what news he had heard. If he was trying to fool me, I wouldn’t let him off the hook.

Uncle Hai was shivering from the cold and said, “A strong dragon doesn’t suppress a local snake. Now that I’m on your turf, how could I dare to fool you? But let’s not talk about this here; I’m freezing to death.”

I brought him to the hotel, helped him drop off his things, and then went to the dining hall to find a private room. After warming up a pot of liquor and downing a few cups, I finally felt a bit better.

Seeing that he was a bit tipsy, I knew it was time to get to the point. I asked him, “Alright, you’ve eaten and drunk; it’s time to talk. What did you find out?”

He blinked and chuckled, pulling out a stack of paper from his bag and slapping it down on the table. “Look at this.”

I picked it up and saw it was an old, yellowed newspaper dated 1974. He had circled a piece of news with a large black-and-white photo. Although it wasn’t very clear, I recognized it; the photo was of a snake-eyed bronze fish, surrounded by many small artifacts, like Buddhist beads.

However, this fish looked different from the one I had and the one my third uncle had. There were three fish reliefs on the forehead of the statue in the underwater tomb, and this one should be the topmost one. This meant all three fish had now appeared in the world.

I asked Uncle Hai, “How did you find this newspaper? Is there any hidden story behind it?”

Uncle Hai replied, “I’ve been helping a big boss look for old newspapers recently. You know, rich people collect all sorts of things. Look at this; it’s the Guangxi Cultural Evening News from 1974. He asked me to find issues from January to December, and it took me two months to gather them all. I was just about to deliver them, and while checking, I happened to see this news. Isn’t that a coincidence? This newspaper was only published for a year in 1974, and it closed down in 1975, so it’s hard to find. You’re lucky; if my eyes had been a bit slower, it would have been gone.”

I looked down at the article, which had about three hundred words of news stating that this fish was discovered in the foundation of a Buddhist temple in Guangxi. The tower had collapsed due to its age, and during the cleanup of the ruins, they unearthed the underground palace. Inside, there were some already rotten scriptures and treasure boxes, and one of the treasure boxes contained this fish. Experts speculated it was a relic from a monk in the late Northern Song Dynasty.

Northern Song? I lit a cigarette, leaned back in my chair, and started to ponder. This type of snake-eyed bronze fish appeared first in the tombs of the lords from the late Warring States period; the second fish was found in an underwater tomb from the late Yuan to early Ming period; and the third fish was in the underground palace of a Northern Song Buddhist pagoda. What was going on? The timeline was completely off.

I flipped through the other parts of the newspaper, and there was only this one piece of news about the fish. The content didn’t really offer anything new; it was basically saying nothing. I still knew nothing about this fish, and I started to feel a bit down.

Old Hai looked at my expression and said, “Don’t lose heart; I haven’t finished yet. The story behind this is even more exciting.”

I frowned and asked, “What do you mean? Could there be more to this newspaper?”

Old Hai nodded and said, “Of course! If I only found a newspaper, I wouldn’t need to come to Hangzhou to find you, right? This story has to start from the beginning. By the way, since you’re in the business, do you know someone named Chen Pi A Si?”

I was taken aback. Chen Pi A Si was a well-known local figure in Changsha during the old days, a notorious grave robber from the same generation as my grandfather. I heard he was over ninety now and had gone blind during the Cultural Revolution, after which he disappeared and no one knew if he was dead or alive. However, his name still resonated loudly in my grandfather’s stories.

But this person was different from my grandfather; he lived a life on the edge, not just robbing graves but also involved in all sorts of criminal activities as long as it could make him money. Before the liberation, people called him “Shave Head A Si,” implying that he killed without hesitation, just like getting a haircut.

I was a bit surprised that Old Hai mentioned this person because he wasn’t from our generation, and I had never interacted with him. Could this fish somehow be related to him? Even if the story behind this fish had nothing to do with me, it would definitely be worth hearing.

Seeing that I was silent, Old Hai thought I didn’t know and said, “It’s not surprising that you don’t know about Chen Si Ye; after all, we’re not from the same generation. But I must tell you, this copper fish in the newspaper was brought out by him from the Buddhist pagoda’s underground palace. The situation is actually much more complicated than what the newspaper says.” He then briefly recounted the events from that time.

It turned out that in 1974, Chen Pi A Si was nearly sixty years old, and his eyesight hadn’t yet failed him. At that time, it was during the decade of turmoil. He had previously served as a squad leader in the Nationalist army during the early days of liberation and later became a bandit for several years, thus lacking a legal identity. Being caught at that time would mean death, so he could only operate in the minority areas of Guangxi, not even daring to step into the county towns.

A few years earlier, during the campaign to eliminate the “Four Olds,” many ancient sites had been destroyed. Chen Pi A Si had traveled to many places in Guangxi, as it was not considered part of the central plains in ancient times and didn’t have many ancient tombs. He had lived relatively honestly during those years. However, by coincidence, that year, while he was inventorying goods at Jiaqiao Ridge and chatting with some local Miao people, they had a bit too much to drink and started talking about a temple on Cat Mountain where the pagoda had collapsed. They said it made a huge noise, and even the ground sank, creating a large pit. On the night of the collapse, many people reportedly heard a very strange and eerie scream.

Chen Pi A Si felt something was off when he heard the news. He had visited Cat Mountain many times, and the temples there were built very solidly. How could one just collapse? After asking for details, he learned that the tower was not on Cat Mountain itself, but in the center of a nearby mountain range called “Sleeping Buddha Ridge.” This place was quite peculiar; surrounded by villages, it had a large basin of about ten square kilometers in the middle, with a very low elevation. The vegetation was dense, with trees covering the sky and villages perched on the cliffs above, while the forest lay below. There was a drop of over a hundred meters, creating two completely different worlds, and there was no path from the villages down to the basin; the only way to descend was by using ropes.

The locals said that there must be other entrances and exits to this basin, but the underground vegetation was so thick that walking through it was difficult. In the past, the Miao people who went down to hunt or gather herbs often disappeared, so generally, no one was willing to go down unless necessary.

The ancient tower was built in such a place, almost at the center of the basin. Usually, when people looked down from the cliffs, they could only see a very small tower tip protruding from the dense tree canopy, which was covered in plants, making it impossible to see what lay below. The Miao people said that their ancestors had known about the tower for generations, but no one had thought to go down and see it; they had simply gotten used to its presence. Recently, one day, there was a sudden loud noise, and when they came out to check, they found the tower tip was gone, realizing that the tower had collapsed.

There were many legends about this mysterious ancient tower among the locals. Some elderly people said that the tower was built by a high monk in ancient times to subdue demons, and now that the tower had fallen, the demons would come out to wreak havoc. That strange sound was the cry of the demons breaking free from their restraints.

After hearing this, Chen Pi A Si found it very interesting. He sensed that the location of the tower and the sound the Miao people heard at midnight were somewhat off. People like them often had a unique intuition, instinctively picking up information from others’ narratives and some legends. This kind of intuition was hard to find among his generation.

After pondering for a moment, Chen Pi A Si decided to go and take a look.

The Guangxi mountains are numerous, arguably the most prominent in the country. Cat Mountain is one of the important sources, spanning the counties of Xing’an, Ziyuan, and Longsheng, and is the origin of the Li River, Zi River, and Xun River, connecting the Yangtze and Pearl River systems. This area has vast primitive forests, and the first major mountain crossed by the Red Army during the Long March, Laoshanjie, is located here. During World War II, several bombers from the Flying Tigers mysteriously disappeared in this area, which has always given it an air of mystery.

After several twists and turns, Chen Pi A Si arrived at a village on “Sleeping Buddha Ridge.” Standing on a dirt mound and looking into the basin in the middle of the mountain range, he thought, “Wow, that tower is much larger than I imagined.” When it fell, it knocked down several trees, creating a gap in the green forest canopy. From “Sleeping Buddha Ridge,” he couldn’t see what was in the gap, but Chen Pi A Si almost immediately noticed that all the trees around the site of the tower’s collapse were in disarray due to the ground sinking. It seemed that there was indeed something beneath the tower, and it was larger than the base of the tower itself.

Upon hearing this, I already knew it was a “Mirror Palace.” “Mirror Palace” is a dialect term from the Changsha area before the liberation, referring to a structure that has an underground section of the same scale as the aboveground building, making it look like the aboveground structure is a reflection on the surface of a lake, with the two ends being symmetrical.

In the northern dialect, this is also called “Yin-Yang Shuttle,” which means the entire building resembles a shuttle inserted into the ground, with one side representing the underworld and the other the earthly realm. However, such ancient tombs or buildings are now rare; most of the surface relics have been completely destroyed, so this notion has hardly been mentioned in the past decade before the liberation.

Just by observing the arrangement of the trees, Chen Pi A Si could tell that there was a “Mirror Palace” buried below. Such judgment could not be made without extensive experience. I couldn’t help but sigh inwardly, calming myself and listening to Lao Hai continue.

After making up his mind, Chen Pi A Si felt a surge of greed. In the underground palace of a stupa, there could only be three things: either relics, the golden body of a high monk, or a large number of Buddhist scriptures—any of which would be worth a fortune.

However, as an outsider, he found it inconvenient to operate here. Firstly, his identity was special and his background was not good; secondly, during that time, there were constant conflicts between the Miao and Han ethnic groups, and since the villages here were all Miao settlements, entering carelessly could raise suspicion.

After much consideration, he devised a plan. He offered a high price to hire a local Miao guide. He told the guide that he was an old intellectual from the frontier and that one of his students had fallen off a cliff while he was traveling. The Miao people are simple and unworldly; they would never suspect any trickery. Upon hearing that someone had fallen off a cliff, the guide immediately notified everyone in the village. A young Miao man used ropes to make a basket and lowered Chen Pi A Si along with several young helpers down to the bottom of the cliff.

According to Chen Pi A Si’s recollections afterward, the experience of descending over a hundred meters was like hell. The cliff was extremely steep, and his weight was entirely supported by a vine rope. Sitting in a basket, he spun around like a top in the wind, feeling extremely unstable. By the time he passed through the dense tree canopy and reached the forest floor, he felt as if he had lost half his life.

Inside the forest, there was almost no sunlight; the light was extremely dim, and the air was filled with the smell of marsh gas. There were many types of trees here, but without exception, everywhere was covered in green moss, and the mud was very soft, making it almost impossible to stand.

After arriving, Chen Pi A Si pretended to be exhausted (though he was genuinely frightened) and sat there gasping for breath. Seeing that he was not young anymore and looked like a little old man, the Miao leader asked him to wait there while they returned, and he lit a torch to direct the others to search in the direction he indicated.

As soon as they left, Chen Pi A Si immediately took out a compass and, following the coordinates he had noted down earlier, ventured deeper into the jungle. He estimated that in such a large area, the Miao people would need a whole night to search back and forth. With his skills, he should have enough time to find the entrance to the “Mirror Palace” and make a round trip. Unfortunately, he hadn’t brought enough equipment this time, so whether he could enter the palace depended on his luck.

After wandering aimlessly in the jungle for a full four hours, relying on his compass and the courage he had built up from years of traveling, Chen Pi A Si finally arrived at the area he had planned out on “Sleeping Buddha Ridge,” which was the ruins of the temple surrounding the tower.

As he ventured deeper, Chen Pi A Si saw more and more remnants of roofs and walls. Clearly, the ancient structures had vanished, leaving only some foundations and broken walls that had almost merged with the vegetation, making it difficult to discern what they once were. However, judging by the scale, the area of the temple was vast. Although the tower had collapsed within this large expanse, it was hard to tell exactly where it was located.

At his age, Chen Pi A Si felt a bit short of breath after walking around and was just about to sit down to rest when something caught his eye. Suddenly, the grass covering an entire wall seemed to contract, as if something was wrapped inside it.

Startled, Chen Pi A Si rolled out of the way, quickly pulling out an iron ball from his pocket. When he turned back to look, he saw a nearly desiccated corpse of a Miao person entangled in the vines and grass. Strangely, the corpse’s stomach was slightly bulging, as if something inside it was moving.

116 Cloud Summit Heavenly Palace (Part 1) – Chapter One – New News

I was unconscious for three days. When I woke up, I had already been taken to the hospital. The moment I opened my eyes, I couldn’t remember anything; I just felt dizzy and nauseous, as if the world was spinning around me.

Two days later, my condition began to improve little by little, but I had lost all my ability to speak. No matter what I wanted to say, the sounds that came out were just strange noises. I thought my brain had been damaged, affecting my language nerves, and I was very scared. However, the doctor told me that this was just a symptom of a severe concussion and that I shouldn’t worry.

I communicated with others using gestures like a mute. It wasn’t until the fourth day that I managed to ask the doctor where I was. He told me I was at the Red Cross Hospital in the Beilin District of Xi’an, and that I had been brought in by several armed police officers. He couldn’t explain exactly how they found me, only saying that I had probably broken about twenty bones, likely due to a fall from a height.

My chest and left arm were in casts, but I had no idea how serious my injuries were. Hearing what the doctor said made me realize how lucky I was to be alive. I asked him when I might be able to be discharged, and he smiled, saying it would be at least ten days to two weeks; I couldn’t even get out of bed yet.

That evening, the armed police officer who had brought me in heard that I could speak and came to visit me with a basket of fruit. I asked him the same question I had asked the doctor, but he didn’t know how to answer either. He only mentioned that some villagers had found me by a creek in Lantian and that I had been placed on a bamboo raft. My wounds had been treated somewhat, and the doctor said that if it weren’t for that, I would have died long ago.

I found it strange; my last memory was of falling into the water, and logically, I should have been washed up on the riverbank at most. How did I end up on a bamboo raft? Moreover, Lantian is seven or eight miles away from the area where I fell. Had we unknowingly traveled such a long distance through the underground river?

I fabricated a story about climbing the mountain and thanked the armed police officer profusely before sending him on his way. I immediately called Wang Meng and asked him to come to Xi’an, bringing some money and my clothes. He arrived the next day. I paid off my medical bills and then bought a new phone and laptop.

I asked Wang Meng how business had been lately. He said there wasn’t anything important going on except that my dad had tried to contact me many times. I thought to myself that I hadn’t expected it to take this long to come out; he must be worried. So, I reported my safety to my family, but my dad wasn’t home. I exchanged a few words with my mom and casually inquired about my third uncle, but there was still no news.

It seemed that everything was just as it had been when I arrived. I sighed.

In the following days, I felt bored and suddenly thought of Lao Yang. Feeling a pang of nostalgia, I lay on my hospital bed, flipping through the tattered mountaineering jacket I had been wearing when I fell, searching for Lao Yang’s diary. The diary was still there, but it had been soaked in water, making it impossible to read. I struggled to decipher a few lines, but it was no use. I then called the hospital and went online to pass the time.

I have looked up a lot of information, but there isn’t much available online about antique trees. I could only briefly describe the image of the bronze tree in my mind and share it with some friends. Later, I received responses one after another, most of whom didn’t know what it was and didn’t believe my description. However, a few letters were quite enlightening.

One of the letters came from a friend of my father’s in the United States, with whom I get along well. In his email, he wrote that this kind of bronze tree is called a “pillar,” because its shape resembles an ancient musical instrument. In 1984, a similar object was found in a mine in Panzhihua, but it was far smaller than what I described; it was only a fragment, and the part buried deep underground had completely rusted away.

So far, there hasn’t been any literature that can explain what this object was used for. However, according to the “Shan Hai Jing” (Classic of Mountains and Seas) and some narrative poems recorded by minority ethnic groups, it is indeed related to ancient activities of capturing “earth dragons (snakes).”

The “Zhu Jiu Yin” is said to be a type of snake living deep in the earth’s veins. Because it has survived for a long time in steep rock crevices, it has had almost no opportunity to look straight ahead, resulting in its two eyes having mutated to resemble those of a flatfish. The ancients would draw it out from the deep earth with fresh blood, then shoot it and make candles from it. It sounds quite tragic, but at that time, a lasting light source was extremely precious, especially for those who were active at night or lived in pitch-black caves.

I found some reason in his analysis, but it still didn’t explain why encountering the so-called “pillar” would produce such a wonderful yet terrifying ability. I wrote back to ask him if there had been any similar occurrences in history.

He replied with a letter and included a fragment of a novel in notes, which recorded an event that took place during the Qianlong era of the Qing Dynasty. It mentioned that a blue-white stone dragon-patterned box was excavated from a mine in Xi’an. When Emperor Qianlong opened it, he secretly summoned several ministers to the palace that night for a discussion that lasted until midnight. Shortly after, there was a fire in the Qianqing Palace. Among those ministers, except for one who was well-known, the others all met mysterious ends, ultimately being inexplicably killed.

Looking at the timeline, it seems to coincide with the event mentioned in Li Pipa’s “He Mu Ji,” suggesting a connection. It appears that the person who excavated the white stone dragon-patterned box and those who understood the matter all ended up silenced. The emperor was determined to keep a secret, so what exactly was in that white stone dragon-patterned box? Could it be related to the origins of this bronze ancient tree?

I wrote back again to seek his opinion, and he replied with a single sentence: “You have to dig deeper to find out.”

I smiled wryly, knowing that this was unlikely. Who knows how deep it goes? Perhaps it took them centuries to cast this thing. Even if someone were willing to dig, I would definitely not be around to see it come out.

There are a few letters from my second uncle addressed to me. He mentioned that at that time, the ethnic minorities inherited the decorative style from the Western Zhou period. Due to limited ethnic interactions and extremely underdeveloped transportation and communication, there should have been a time lag. In other words, I estimated the timeline too early. According to general patterns, that period should have already been during the late Qin Dynasty in the Central Plains region.

At that time, almost all activities were related to Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s construction of his mausoleum. They hunted the mythical creature “Zhu Jiu Yin,” possibly to refine “dragon oil” as tribute to the emperor for alchemical practices or similar activities. Moreover, geological surveys indicate that there are large metallic objects at the lowest level of the Qin Shi Huang mausoleum. Surrounding the entire tomb, logically, the metallurgical technology at that time should not have been capable of completing such a massive project. The builders of this part should have been an externally advanced ethnic group with particularly developed metallurgical skills.

My second uncle is a loyal fan of Qin Shi Huang and can relate everything back to that period, but I do not agree with his speculations.

A month later, after being discharged from the hospital and returning home, I began to sort out my feelings and re-engage with life. I organized my nearly overflowing mailbox, and after sorting through some magazines and newspapers, I found an unsigned parcel.

Old Wu:

Can you guess who I am?

Yes, I’m not dead, or rather, I’m alive again.

I’m sorry to involve you in this matter, but after all, you are the only person I can trust, and I have no other choice.

Now that the whole thing is complete, our relationship must come to an end here. I’m glad to have been friends with you, but now all of this no longer matters.

Are you very curious about what happened three years ago?

Three years ago, I went to the Qinling area with a group of border folks from Liao, and based on local legends, we found a tree hole in a banyan grove at the top of the mountain. After careful consideration, we decided to take the risk and go down. You know the whole process; later, I got trapped in a stone cave.

At that time, I was already in despair. Although I wouldn’t die so quickly, living became more terrifying for me—forever trapped in the narrow, pitch-black depths of the mountain with no hope of escape. That kind of pain, you should have experienced as well.

I spent four whole months in darkness, and those months were like hell. However, during this time, I kept thinking. I realized that this ability is related to the subconscious. For example, if I wanted to open a door in the stone, I had to make myself believe that there was a door in the stone itself; otherwise, no matter how hard I tried, the door wouldn’t appear.

One cannot deceive the subconscious, so using this ability requires guidance, which is very difficult. As I told you before, once the guidance fails or deviates, what you materialize could be something unknown and terrifying.

I kept doing things and gradually mastered some tricks. However, at this point, I discovered that this ability gradually faded over time. This feeling was very obvious, like a person slowly feeling fatigued. I realized that if I didn’t find a way to get out, I might starve to death here.

I was at my wit’s end and tried to use that ability to copy myself. I didn’t expect it to succeed, and I was taken aback when it did. Suddenly, I found myself outside the cave. At that moment, I didn’t realize that I was the copy; all of my memories were exactly the same as my original self’s. So when he called out to me, I completely rejected the idea that I was a replica. He started to curse at me, saying that I wanted to replace him in this world and that I should disappear. I was very scared; I felt that the one inside the cave was a monster. So, regardless of how my original self called out from inside the cave, I brought in explosives and completely collapsed the cave.

In fact, I did know that I was a copy, but my subconscious was unwilling to accept this fact. So I chose a destructive state; I killed my original self and told myself that I had only killed a substitute. The ability granted by the bronze tree was very short-lived, so I took a branch from the bronze tree and exited through the hidden passage at the base, hoping that taking a part of the bronze tree with me would make my ability last longer, which would give me a chance to escape outside. It turned out that my idea was correct. I returned outside and dug up what we had found before we got here. Afraid that the bronze branch would be too conspicuous, I buried it and then returned to Xi’an, hoping to find a place to sell what I had.

Unfortunately, while doing business, I was caught by plainclothes officers at an ancient market. Later, as you know, when I returned home, my mother had already left. I did not lie to you about these things.

There are also some things I must tell you: having this ability does come at a cost. My memory is very poor; I have to write down many things in advance to remember them. That is a side effect of using the ability. All along the way, I could have settled you well and made you unknowingly help me complete this adventure, but unfortunately, over the past three years, I have forgotten many things. I can’t even clearly remember how I got out, so I have left many gaps. I estimate that in another two or three years, I might completely lose the ability to remember.

You also have that peculiar energy within you. I don’t know if it will affect you, so take care of yourself. According to my calculations, this power may linger in you for several years, but it will be very weak, almost imperceptible.

Lao Yang

After I finished reading the letter, I let out a sigh, not knowing what to say. Inside the envelope, there was also a photo of him and his mother sitting on a bench, with the sea in the background. They must have gone abroad. His mother was very beautiful and young, and standing next to him, they looked more like a couple. I took a closer look but felt that there was a strange aura on her face, a kind of indescribable fierceness; perhaps it was a psychological effect.

Before I knew it, winter had arrived. Cuddled up in an air-conditioned room, I spent the entire afternoon lazily, lacking even the energy to doze off. I lay on a recliner in the “Xiling Seal Engraving Society,” my feet cold as ice, not knowing what to do. Just as I was in a half-dreaming state, Wang Mengpo walked in and said to me, “Boss, someone is looking for you.”

I barely reacted, yawned, and thought to myself, “It’s freezing cold, and there are still people wandering around antique shops. This person is quite enthusiastic.” But then again, it’s business. I got up, patted my face, shook off the drowsiness, and walked out.

Outside, the air conditioning was weak, and the cold wind made me shiver. I looked and saw that it was the young girl from Uncle Hai’s team, shivering from the cold. I thought to myself that she probably came to bring me a check, and my heart warmed up. I quickly called Wang Meng to make tea and asked her, “So, girl, did Uncle Hai send you?”

The girl, Qin Haiting, was a relative of Uncle Hai. At just seventeen, she was already an experienced hand in the antique world. She nodded and said, “Oh my gosh, why is Hangzhou colder than the north?”

Wang Meng laughed and said, “The south has that dry, biting cold weather. And you know, Jinan isn’t that far north.”

Seeing Qin Haiting shivering, I hurriedly pulled her into the inner room where it was warm from the heating. I handed her a hot water bottle and asked, “You’re really sensitive to the cold. Is it warmer now?”

After drinking a few sips of hot tea, she began to feel better but was still stamping her feet in the room. “It’s a little better. People say Hangzhou is so beautiful, and if my uncle hadn’t stopped me, I would have rushed over here myself. Who knew it would be this cold? Oh, I won’t come again next time.”

I asked, “What did your uncle want you to come for? Why didn’t he call to let me know?”

Qin Haiting took off her scarf and pulled out an envelope from her bag, saying, “Of course it’s important business. Here, a cash check for the money from that fish eye stone.”

When I heard that, I realized it was indeed the case. I took it, glanced at the amount, which was quite good, and immediately put it in my pocket, saying, “Please thank him for me.”

She then took out an invitation and handed it to me. “My Uncle Hai is coming to Hangzhou the day after tomorrow for an antique appraisal meeting. He said to invite you too; he has something important to discuss with you.”

I asked, “The day after tomorrow? I don’t know if I have time. Why didn’t he mention it over the phone, being all mysterious?” In fact, I didn’t want to go. Antique appraisal sounded too boring. For those in the industry, it was just a bunch of old men chatting, and honestly, how many stories could there be? You could tell if something was real or fake in just a few seconds.

Qin Haiting leaned closer to my ear and whispered, “My uncle said it’s related to that bronze fish. If you don’t go, you’ll regret it.”

115 Qinling Divine Tree Chapter – Chapter 40 – Escape

The red eye was filled with pulsating blood vessels, looking extraordinarily eerie. As soon as I made eye contact with it, I suddenly felt as if my soul was being pulled away, overwhelmed by a strong sense of nausea and dizziness, and I quickly turned my face away.

However, Liang Shiye seemed possessed, his eyes fixed on that blood-red eye, completely motionless. I called out to him a couple of times, but there was no response.

Liang Shiye had mentioned that the “Candle of Nine Yin” had an eye that connected to hell, and I knew something was definitely wrong. I quickly scooped up a handful of water and splashed it toward him.

But I didn’t know if the Candle of Nine Yin had suddenly leaned forward or what, that handful of water ended up splashing onto its head instead of Liang Shiye.

The splash startled the Candle of Nine Yin, and it closed its eyes, retracting its snake head as if preparing to attack. I hurriedly pressed myself behind a bronze tree, and the snake’s head slammed into the bronze tree, bending all its branches. At that moment, I remembered the backpack I had taken from “Old Yang”; it might have some weapons inside. I quickly turned the backpack around.

It definitely didn’t have a gun, but I recalled there were a few detonators they originally used to blow up tomb walls. Now that I was unarmed, having something with a bit of power to intimidate would be good.

The Candle of Nine Yin was winding around from one side of the bronze tree. I moved to avoid being seen while crawling and rolling to grab the backpack and rummage through it.

The backpack was stuffed full of things. I took out all the food and tossed it into the water, finally finding what I thought was a detonator. When I looked at it, I was momentarily stunned; damn it, I had been too careless earlier. That bundle of stuff turned out to be black candles.

At that moment, the snake’s head had already reached over. Seeing me, it suddenly curled its neck and assumed an attack posture.

The average attack speed of a snake is only a quarter of a second, and although this one was a bit bigger, it probably wouldn’t be much slower. I realized that if I delayed for another second, it would be the end for me, so I yanked up the backpack and jumped into the water.

But my descent was still too slow. Suddenly, a shadow flashed, and the snake’s head shot out, biting me in mid-air. Then its body coiled around, trying to wrap me up in its embrace.

My hands were fumbling in the backpack, and at that moment, I suddenly felt one of those signal flares they used. In a panic, I instinctively pulled the trigger, and the backpack exploded with a large hole. In the chaos, I wasn’t sure if the flare had exploded in the snake’s mouth, but I felt a heat in my palm, and then everything spun around me.

I fell back into the water with a “splash,” resurfacing to look back and see the signal flare in the Candle of Nine Yin’s mouth emitting a bright white light. The air was filled with the scent of wax, and for some reason, smoke began to billow from its entire body.

This type of snake has a lot of fat in its body that burns easily; otherwise, ancient people wouldn’t have hunted it for candle-making. But I never expected it to catch fire like this. What exactly was flowing inside it?

The Candle of Nine Yin was in extreme agony, no longer able to care about us, writhing its body continuously. Its massive tail slammed against the rocks, and a huge crack had already appeared on that side. With each strike, the crack spread into several smaller fissures, and the entire mountainside began to crack, as if the whole cave might collapse.

I don’t know if Zhu Jiuyin will die so easily. Continuing to rummage through the backpack, I found nothing useful, so I threw the backpack into the water. At that moment, suddenly, a surge of current erupted from beneath the water, and the water from the pool rushed toward the crack where Zhu Jiuyin had collided.

The mountain here has numerous cave systems, and it seems that the mountain behind the crack has already been breached. I have no idea where the water is flowing to. I took one last look at the ancient bronze tree and searched around for Master Liang, but he had already vanished. I watched as the stones above began to collapse in large chunks due to the rushing water. Zhu Jiuyin was thrashing about like a madman, and he leaned back, getting swept into the crack by the current.

The crack was extremely deep and pitch black inside. Because it was a collapsed passage, the stones were very irregular, and the water flow created several whirlpools. I spun around in there, bumping into things, barely feeling that I was drifting downstream.

After about ten minutes of swirling, I suddenly felt a free fall and then plunged headfirst into the water. I struggled to surface and found that I had been carried by the current to the underground river we had passed earlier. The water flow here was even more turbulent than what we had seen before; it must have been due to the heavy rain that Master Liang mentioned.

Although the water here flowed very quickly, there weren’t as many whirlpools as in the crevice, and the water was slightly warm. I managed to regain some control over my limbs and began to think about the situation ahead.

This underground river flowed downward, and I had no idea where it would lead. If it plunged straight into a deep underground section, I would be at a loss for words. However, based on the direction we had come from, if it hadn’t changed course significantly, I estimated that I should be swept into the river we had crossed earlier.

Of course, the premise was that everything would go smoothly. I nervously watched ahead, fearing any forks in the river. At that moment, something caught my eye; I saw something carved into the walls of the underground river.

Looking at the erosion of the rocks in this underground river, it seemed that its history was as ancient as the mountain itself. What was carved on it should not have been done in modern times. I seized an opportunity, grabbed a stone column that hung down from above, stopped my body, and shone my flashlight. I was stunned.

Both sides of the river wall were covered with bas-reliefs that resembled those we had seen inside the coffin atop the bronze tree. They formed continuous scenes; some had collapsed, but most were still well-preserved, with clear and flowing lines, and the clothing depicted was graceful. Each relief was unique, vivid, and dynamic.

At a glance, I could tell that these bas-reliefs depicted the process of ancient ethnic minorities worshipping the bronze tree. The scenes were extremely vivid; in one relief, the massive bronze tree was adorned with the bodies of slaves, their blood flowing into the tree, trickling down through the grooves above; in another, they were throwing the bodies of slaves into the interior of the bronze tree.

A significant portion of the bas-reliefs was submerged in water, and the very bottom had been leveled by the current, indicating that there was no water when they were carved.

From the bas-reliefs here, it was clear that the scale of the worship of the bronze tree was grand. I kept looking, but the more I looked, the stranger it felt. Some of the scenes depicted in the bas-reliefs were different from the worship, and I couldn’t comprehend them.

Among the reliefs, there is one depicting the ancient ancestors pouring a liquid into a bronze tree. In the next relief, a “Zhu Jiu Yin,” identical to the one just seen, emerges from the bronze tree, surrounded by many ancestors dressed like warriors, armed with bows and spears, clearly illustrating a hunting scene.

From my previous understanding, this bronze tree should symbolize a special form of divine authority in ancient times. The “Zhu Jiu Yin” within the bronze tree was considered a type of dragon, and in some literary notes, it is even elevated to the status of Pangu, suggesting that it was worshipped as a divine beast. Why then would these people hunt it?

I continued to look further, hoping to find answers in the subsequent reliefs. There were more ritual scenes, and I could see that all the ancestors wore masks, their expressions blank. However, in every relief, there was always one figure carved particularly large and robust. Judging by this person’s clothing and demeanor, I could be fairly certain that this individual was their leader and likely the original form of the statue I had seen on the cliff at Jiazigo.

The head of that statue had been blown off by a bomb, and I had always felt something was amiss, but I hadn’t seen the head all along. Now I had a chance to examine it closely.

I grasped the stalactite above, leaned closer to the rock below, wiped away the grime, and peered in. The image of the leader in the relief was nearly twice the size of the others, resembling a giant. If we assume that the carvings were made to scale, then this leader might indeed have been that tall.

However, strangely, on all these reliefs, this leader had a snake’s head growing from his neck, which did not appear to be wearing a mask or anything similar. Although I had some archaeological knowledge, I still felt puzzled by these details, which required extensive reading to fully understand. Based solely on the surface meaning of these reliefs, I sensed that the judgment of the scholar Liang at the time might have been somewhat off; this bronze tree might not have been solely for sacrificial purposes but rather for some kind of hunting ritual. The sacrificed slaves might have served as bait to lure the “Zhu Jiu Yin” out from underground.

The bronze tree extended deep underground, and these “Zhu Jiu Yin” likely lived in extremely deep layers. How they could survive in such conditions was beyond my consideration; I was merely curious about why these ancestors would go to such lengths to hunt the “Zhu Jiu Yin.”

The reliefs did not provide me with answers. In the end, I only saw scenes of celebration, with no carvings depicting what happened after the “Zhu Jiu Yin” was captured.

Having gathered the basic information, I looked at the water level, which was rising, and reluctantly released my grip, continuing to drift downstream with the current.

After such a long time, the flashlight had become very dim, eventually fading to the point of providing no illumination. I decided to turn it off and let myself be carried along in the darkness.

This period was incredibly difficult to endure. I was swept down several small waterfalls, which, while not fatal, left me bruised and battered. For several hours, I had no idea what surrounded me or where I was headed.

I gradually began to feel a sense of despair, unsure if I had just turned or entered a fork in the path. If I had misjudged, I might be heading into the endless depths of an underground river, not knowing where it would lead. Would it take me to the lower levels where “Zhu Jiu Yin” lives? What kind of place is that? Could there be an emperor’s tomb constructed deep within the underground river? That would indeed be a fascinating idea.

As I was lost in these thoughts, I suddenly saw a glimmer of light ahead, which made my whole body tremble with excitement. Then I heard the rumbling sound of water. My heart leaped with joy, knowing that I must be nearing an exit. I hadn’t seen natural light for over ten hours. I tossed aside my flashlight and swam forward.

I was moving incredibly fast. In just a few minutes, a flash caught my eye, followed by a blinding white light, and I could see nothing. It was the visual dullness from not having seen light for so long. I cried out in my heart, but in that instant, a familiar sensation suddenly came from beneath me.

It was free fall again! Another waterfall! From the force of the rushing water and the sound coming from below, this waterfall had to be quite significant. I had no idea what awaited me below. If the water was too shallow, it would be a truly unjust death for me.

A howling wind rushed past my ears, and in the blink of an eye, before my vision could recover, I plunged headfirst into the water. In that moment, I reached down and immediately felt a rock beneath me. Oh no, it was too shallow! Just as I realized this, my head struck something, and everything went dark; I lost all awareness.

114 Qinling Shen Tree – Chapter 39 – Zhu Jiu Yin

A massive tongue pressed against my nose, and I was confronted with a pair of writhing, scaly eyes. I struggled to articulate this shock to anyone else; it felt as if my heart had stopped beating, and my body had stiffened like stone.

Experiencing the overwhelming power of this creature for the first time erased any lingering doubts I had. Yet, the enormous black python was so real—every scale, the scent in the air, the pervasive sound of friction—all were without flaw. I simply couldn’t fathom how this thing had suddenly appeared. If the lights had been on just moments ago, could it have just “popped” into existence?

“Old Yang” was still shouting something outside, but I was too preoccupied to pay him any mind. I could only feel the emotionless gaze of the reptile lingering on me. The crevice I was in was already small, and now, with this dragon-like python appearing, there was hardly any room left to even do a stretching exercise. At any moment, if that python decided to open its mouth and snap in my direction, I would be finished—there would be no escape.

I quickly calculated in my mind: the python’s sense of smell and sight were both highly sensitive, so it was unlikely it couldn’t see me. My only hope was that it wasn’t interested in something my size; pythons typically don’t prey on things that are too small. If I remained still and didn’t provoke it, it might just ignore me. But if that tactic failed, I would truly be out of options.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my body from trembling. The massive tongue brushed past my ear, leaving behind an incredibly foul saliva. Fortunately, it merely lifted its head to glance at me before turning to investigate the flashlight beam from “Old Yang” behind the rock.

“Old Yang,” hiding behind the boulder blocking the cave entrance, realized something was wrong when he saw the python not attacking me but instead turning towards him. The boulder blocking the entrance was only as big as the python’s head and couldn’t possibly stop it. I heard Old Yang curse, hurriedly retreating behind the rock and snapping off his flashlight with a click.

Suddenly, everything went dark. The python’s yellow eyes glowed in the darkness. I dared not make a sound, barely breathing, as I saw the python gently nudge the boulder a couple of times. When it received no response, it suddenly coiled its neck and assumed an attack posture.

Images of pythons hunting flashed through my mind, and I instantly knew what was about to happen. In an instant, the python’s coiled neck shot forward like a bullet, and I heard a muffled thud. The entire cave trembled as the boulder blocking the entrance was sent flying like a kite. I heard Old Yang let out a blood-curdling scream, followed by the relentless sound of rocks crashing into each other.

Even though I understood that the voice outside wasn’t truly Old Yang, that scream still sent a jolt of panic through me. The python had discovered the hollow space behind the rock, but its head was too large to squeeze through. Its body twisted and coiled, and I ducked and dodged, determined not to get caught in its grasp. If those scales clamped down on me, my bones would surely snap.

After several failed attempts, the python began to get agitated, swinging its head and crashing against the stone wall near the cave entrance. Its coiled body already looked terrifying, and now, as it moved like a dragon, it was even more spectacular. With a few powerful strikes, it cracked open an opening in the cave entrance, and with a strong twist, its head slipped out, its scales scraping against the stone wall, pushing the entire rock out of the crevice.

The giant python pushed all the stones blocking its way outward. I followed it out and saw “Old Yang” lying in a pile of rubble, almost completely buried under the stones, with a faint breath. Upon seeing me, he coughed a few times, seemingly wanting to say something, but as he opened his mouth, blood flowed from the corner of his lips.

I checked his injuries and tried to move some stones, but just one glance revealed that his lower body was crushed beyond recognition, making it impossible to look any further. I sighed and asked him, “Do you… do you have anything to say?”

He glanced at me, gritted his teeth, and pulled out the backpack he had gotten from Boss Wang from the crevice of the rock, tossing it to me.

I caught the bag, feeling a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite place. He coughed up a lot of blood, then stopped speaking and closed his eyes.

I paused, wanting to ask him what had happened that day, when suddenly there was a loud “boom,” and the entire cave shook violently. I could barely keep my seat, crashing against the rock wall, as a long series of cracking sounds echoed above me.

I was terrified, thinking that the giant snake outside had started crashing again, and hurriedly crawled towards the cave exit. At that moment, “Old Yang” suddenly called out hoarsely, “Old Wu!”

I was taken aback, not knowing what he wanted to say. Turning back, I saw him open his mouth, but suddenly the ground beneath him collapsed, and the stones above fell like a waterfall. In an instant, he seemed to sink into the rubble like he was trapped in quicksand.

A jolt of fear shot through me, a heart-wrenching feeling, but there was no time to process my emotions. I rolled to avoid the falling rocks and rushed out of the cave, just in time to be hit by a dark shadow crashing towards me. I quickly rolled aside, and the shadow collided with the mountainside, shaking the entire wall, sending stones flying and creating a crack that extended from where I stood.

Seeing such a violent collision, I couldn’t help but wonder if the snake was risking its life. Turning my head, I realized it wasn’t that simple; the black python that had just crawled out was now entangled with the slender-scaled giant snake that had emerged from the bronze tree, locked in a fierce struggle. The slender-scaled giant snake was considerably larger than the python, but in the fight, it seemed to hold no advantage. Both snakes were black, making it hard to distinguish one from the other, as two swirling black tornadoes wrapped around the bronze tree, their tails sweeping wildly and sending surrounding stalagmites and stalactites flying like cannonballs.

I had never seen such a breathtaking scene and was left in a daze. Suddenly, a tail swept right by my feet, turning the rock I was standing on into dust. In a panic, I reached out to grab something, but to my surprise, all the surrounding stones had already been loosened by the collisions. I lost my grip and fell into the abyss below.

In just a few minutes, I experienced life and death multiple times, and I couldn’t react in time. I yelled out, suddenly hearing a rumbling sound of water. Then, I felt a chill all over my body, and everything went silent. I found myself falling into the water.

What the hell? Where did this water come from?

I plunged into the water for six or seven meters before finally stopping. My entry position was impossible to adjust, and I heard a crack in my neck, unsure if it was broken. I couldn’t muster any strength, and my body sank deeper into the water.

Just when I felt hopeless, a figure swam over from behind, supporting me and bringing me upward.

When I turned back to look, it was the old master Liang, who had been hiding in the rock cave below. He must have been forced out by the rising water. Seeing someone fall, he came over to pull me up.

Breaking the water’s surface, I saw that the abyss we had just climbed out of had turned into a pool, with water flowing in from an unknown source, and the water level was rising rapidly.

I looked around, thinking to myself, did they find this place as a pool three years ago? Damn it, if that’s the case, how could we ever get back?

My swimming skills were better than Liang’s. After he pulled me up, he lost all his strength and began to sink. I pulled him to the side of the bronze tree, not wanting to hold a grudge over past matters, and asked, “What’s going on?”

Liang coughed a few times before saying, “It must have rained outside. This is a mountain flood; we often have them at this time of year. The floodwater flowed into the underground river we came through, which is definitely connected to the rock caves in the walls here. The flood from the high altitude came rushing down, raising the water level, and now it’s backflowing in! Once the flood passes, the water level will drop immediately.”

I cursed under my breath; this made things chaotic, and I had no idea how to get out. Looking up, I saw a massive black shadow still entangled above us. I thought to myself, good grief, it has come to this, and if it falls into the water, it would truly turn into a dragon’s den or tiger’s lair. Wouldn’t we be in serious trouble?

Before I could finish my thoughts, I heard a whoosh beside my ear. The giant black python had fallen, splashing into the water, causing the small pool to boil like hot water.

Following closely, a giant scaled snake descended from the bronze tree. Liang saw the snake’s enormous purple eyes and was so frightened that he sank deeper into the water. I pulled him up, and he trembled as he said, “My God! Where did this thing come from? This… this is the Zhi Jiu Yin!”

That name sounded familiar to me. I dragged him to hide behind the bronze tree and asked what was going on.

Liang bit his tongue and whispered, “Zhi Jiu Yin is a dragon, known in ancient times as Zhi Long. It’s actually a type of gigantic poisonous snake from ancient times. During the reign of Emperor Shun, this creature was used to refine oil for lighting candles. It went extinct thousands of years ago. How could there be one here?”

I had never known about these things before and felt puzzled. Since I didn’t know, it couldn’t be a figment of my imagination. Could it be true? Was there really a gigantic poisonous snake from ancient times inside this bronze ancient tree?

Liang Shiye continued, “This Candle Nine Yin has lived for who knows how many years. Have you noticed that from here, you can only see one of its eyes? The eye of Candle Nine Yin is horizontally elongated. The one you see now should be the main eye, while another eye is located above it, called the Yin Eye. Legend has it that for thousands of years, the Yin Eye of Candle Nine Yin is connected to hell. Just a glance from it can lead to possession by evil spirits, and over time, one can turn into a monster with a human head and a snake body.”

I recalled that old man’s snake-like expression, and a chill ran down my spine. I turned back to take a secret glance, and thankfully, Candle Nine Yin was completely focused elsewhere. I felt the underwater currents becoming extremely chaotic, knowing that the black giant python was still beneath the water. Candle Nine Yin was staring into the water, probably fearing a sudden attack from the giant python.

The water level kept rising, and we were getting closer to the body of Candle Nine Yin. Liang Shiye was extremely tense. I looked up and noticed that there should be an exit at the top of the cave. As long as the water level rose high enough, we could climb up and get out from there. However, I didn’t know how high the water level could rise. After all, we were very close to the mountain peak, and when we passed through the coffin formation, the coffins showed no signs of having been soaked by water, so the water level couldn’t be higher than that side. I had no idea how far it could go, so I could only hope to float a little higher.

I quietly shared my thoughts with Liang Shiye, but he was completely unable to take them in. At that moment, several white masks floated up from the water; they were the shells of the Chigu. I suddenly felt something was wrong. I picked one up and saw that the mouth part was empty; the Gu worms inside were gone.

“Damn it!” I cursed, suddenly realizing why that python had been submerged for so long without coming up. I turned on my flashlight and dove into the water. Countless worm-like creatures, some still wearing masks and others just their bodies, clung to the black giant python like crabs, creating a large white mass. The black giant python was belly-up, still rolling around, but it clearly couldn’t shake off these worms. Its body crashed against the rocks, and the masks of the Gu worms were scraped off, but the worm bodies remained firmly attached to the snake’s body, looking extremely bizarre.

Some Gu worms that couldn’t find a spot wandered around the python’s body, moving very swiftly. The situation turned dire when they all suddenly froze upon seeing the flashlight in my hand, then quickly sprang away from the python’s body. Before I could react, I was suddenly surrounded by all the worms, like a massive school of fish in the sea.

These creatures swam incredibly fast. Realizing the danger, I had no time to think. In a moment of desperation, I pressed my back against something and bit down hard on my palm. I didn’t even understand why I bit so hard, but blood gushed out immediately. I waved my hand in the water to spread the blood evenly.

The Gu worms were averse to my blood; they rushed towards me and then swam away, too afraid to get close. A swarm of white worms formed a wall in front of me, and I even vaguely felt that the undulating arrangement of these worms resembled a human face.

Liang Shiye was terrified and immediately started climbing the bronze tree without saying a word. I realized that staying in the water wasn’t a good idea either, so I poked my head out of the water. When I looked back, I saw that Zhu Jiu Yin had already spotted us. Its enormous snake head was directed towards us, and the purple eye had closed, replaced by a blood-red eye that had opened at some point, glaring at us with a vengeful gaze.

113 Qinling Divine Tree – Chapter 38 – The True Image

I was looking at the ID of the corpse when Lao Yang suddenly asked me a question that startled me. I responded vaguely and continued to examine what I had in my hands.

From this brief diary entry, it seems this person arrived here three years ago, the same time Lao Yang and his group first entered. Could this person be part of Lao Yang’s crew? I thought for a moment, but it didn’t seem right. Although there were some similarities between the diary and what Lao Yang had said, most of it was different; they should be two different groups of people.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that the name “Jie Ziyang” was familiar. The surname Jie is quite rare, so there shouldn’t be many people with the same name. Where had I heard it before?

I racked my brain, but too many strange things had happened recently, and my mind wasn’t working well. No matter how I thought about it, I couldn’t clear it up.

Continuing to go through his belongings, I didn’t find anything else of note. I put his diary away to examine it more closely later.

Lao Yang saw me squatting there in silence and thought something was wrong, so he called out to me. When I looked back, I saw half of his face squeezed into the gap, his eyes fixed on what I had in my hands. However, there was a blind spot between the rock and me; he couldn’t see me, but I could see him. He looked strange, as if he wanted to squeeze in.

I cursed under my breath, thinking that he had refused to come in earlier and was regretting it now. I said to him, “Don’t make a fuss. I found something interesting and I’m looking at it.”

Lao Yang frowned and hurriedly asked, “What did you find?”

I recounted to him how I discovered the corpse and sighed, saying, “This guy might be our fate. If we can’t find a way out, we might die even faster than he did. But I feel like this person’s name is somewhat familiar. Do you remember if we had any classmates with that name when we were kids?”

As I spoke, I stepped back to the giant rock, intending to pass the ID through the gap for him to see. But when I looked up, I was suddenly struck by the sight of Lao Yang’s face, which was completely drained of color, pale and staring fixedly at my face.

A strange feeling surged within me. What was going on? Why had his expression changed like that? Could it be that we really had a classmate named Jie Ziyang when we were kids?

I closed my eyes and thought about it, but I really couldn’t remember. Nowadays, relationships are so distant; I no longer recognized some of my college classmates, let alone those from childhood. Seeing that Lao Yang wasn’t speaking, I looked down at the ID number in my hand and said, “I really can’t remember, but this person is about our age—”

Just as I was saying this, a flash of lightning struck my brain, and I froze in place. Jie Ziyang, Jie Ziyang, Jie Ziyang, Jie Ziyang!

But wait, this name didn’t seem unfamiliar at all—this was Lao Yang’s real name!

My scalp tingled, and I almost shivered. I hurriedly looked closely at the birthday on the ID, and I felt dizzy. My God, it really was Lao Yang’s birthday! But this… this couldn’t be true. Could this ID actually belong to Lao Yang?

Then, did it mean that this corpse, which had decayed to bones, was Lao Yang…?

But that didn’t make sense. If Lao Yang had died here three years ago, then who was it that was looking at me from outside the rock?

My neck stiffened, and I turned my head mechanically to look at the half face peeking through the crevice in the rock. Suddenly, I felt a wave of inexplicable fear. Lao Yang’s face, illuminated by the flickering flashlight, appeared ghostly and eerie, resembling the massive black snake I had seen outside.

I involuntarily retreated deeper into the cave, not daring to approach the rock any closer, while Lao Yang remained motionless, staring at me intently. I didn’t say a word, standing there like a stone statue.

Given his temperament, he would surely scold me like a grandson if he saw me like this. Could it be that my identity was exposed, and I didn’t know how to react?

At that moment, my suspicion grew stronger. Although this person outside looked and acted like Lao Yang, he might not actually be him. The journey from Hangzhou to here flashed through my mind like a movie, each lie and evasive statement vividly replaying. The words he had said to me at the top of the bronze tree came back to me, and the doubts that had accumulated began to crystallize.

I had always believed that Lao Yang’s cunning couldn’t be this deep. First, our relationship meant he had no need to deceive me. Second, when he told those lies, they were so genuine that I would never have noticed if I weren’t overly cautious. However, in other respects, this person resembled Lao Yang too closely. I couldn’t find a single flaw. Despite my growing doubts, I still thought his personality had simply changed, never considering that he might not be Lao Yang at all.

At that moment, “Lao Yang” finally spoke. His face retreated into the shadows as he said to me, “Old Wu, I told you not to go in just now, but you wouldn’t listen. You can only blame your stubbornness. Haven’t you heard that knowing some things isn’t always a good thing?”

A chill ran down my spine, confirming my suspicions. I struggled to keep my voice steady as I asked, “You’re not Lao Yang… who exactly are you?”

Lao Yang let out a strange laugh. “Who am I? I am Lao Yang, Xie Ziyang, the one who grew up with you and spent three years in prison. If you don’t believe me, you can check my criminal record!”

I scoffed, “Nonsense! Lao Yang’s body is right next to me. He’s been dead for three years; he never went to prison. Who the hell are you?”

Half of “Lao Yang’s” face reappeared silently in the crevice of the rock, grinning ominously. “That’s right, he has been dead for three years, but I am alive. What’s the difference?”

Looking at his expression, I suddenly realized something. I furrowed my brow and then gasped, stammering, “What the hell, you’re not human! You… are you some sort of materialization of him—”

“Lao Yang” coldly snorted and said, “Why don’t you say he is a materialization of me? Who knows? I look just like him; who can tell which came first?”

I nearly lost control and picked up a stone to throw at him. His face flashed back, and he continued, “Old Wu, actually, I am exactly the same as him; you don’t need to mind.” I shouted, “Of course there’s a difference! Who knows what kind of power you used to materialize yourself into this form!”

“Old Yang” suddenly fell silent, his expression turning grim. He stared at me for a while and then said with a fierce sneer, “Shut the hell up! I am Old Yang. You’re just like him, so don’t blame me.”

I felt a sense of foreboding. Suddenly, a gun barrel poked through a gap. I quickly rolled into a dead corner. Old Yang fired a shot that hit the stone, chipping off a large piece. Then the gun was immediately aimed at my corner, and another shot rang out, the bullet barely grazing my neck.

The gap was too small; even with a dead corner, it couldn’t protect my entire body. Realizing the situation was dire, I hurriedly turned off my flashlight to avoid being seen. In his panic, he fired several shots but missed me. I rolled over to the edge of the rocks, picked up a stone, and began to smash the protruding gun barrel. After a few hits, I bent it at a ninety-degree angle.

Old Yang couldn’t pull it out and cursed in anger. I sneered, “What a coincidence! I don’t believe Old Yang would shoot at me. You’re just a cheap imitation!” Ever since Old Yang mentioned the materialization of living beings, I had a nagging feeling. There was this ancient bronze tree here, and it surely had a purpose. Could the beings created by such an almost terrifying ability be normal people? Were they really like us? Or could they be some kind of monster?

Now it seemed that this “person,” whether or not he was like us, clearly knew he was materialized. For some reason, I felt that things were getting worse.

After exchanging insults for a while, Old Yang suddenly seemed to think of something and fell silent. Then he turned off his flashlight, plunging the entire space into darkness. The endless blackness pressed in, making the already confined space feel even heavier.

I was on guard for any tricks he might have, huddling in my corner, when he said, “Old Wu, I remember you were most afraid of the dark when you were a child. Are you scared now? But don’t let your imagination run wild. Remember what I just told you? If you think too much in this place, be careful when you turn on your light; you might see a dead person’s face right in front of you.”

I cursed inwardly. This guy wanted me to conjure up some monster out of my fear of the dark. I told myself I absolutely couldn’t let him succeed, but I felt a growing fear. What he said about seeing a dead face when the flashlight was turned on sent my nerves into overdrive. I immediately felt something appear just a few centimeters in front of me. The warm breath I exhaled hit that thing, bouncing back to my face, bringing with it a foul, rancid smell.

No way, I thought. Based on Old Yang’s earlier behavior, the ability to materialize was very difficult to control; otherwise, we wouldn’t have been so helpless against the giant-eyed black snake. It shouldn’t be this easy to conjure a monster.

It’s an illusion, I told myself. Don’t fall for his trick. In such a confined, dark space, fear was definitely present.

I took a deep breath, and suddenly, my face felt wet, as if a cold object had brushed past me. I broke out in a cold sweat, nearly wetting my pants. Cautiously, I touched my chest; my heart was racing, and I felt weak all over. Damn it, this time it was no mistake—there was indeed something lurking in the darkness.

I didn’t dare to turn on my flashlight. I slowly leaned back, trying to press against the stone wall, but as soon as my back touched it, I realized it wasn’t stone at all, but rather a series of scales… I could even feel the muscles writhing beneath the scales.

Goodness, what was I thinking? How could there be scales behind me? I quickly closed my eyes, gripping my flashlight tightly and raising it in front of me. Just as I was about to turn it on, I suddenly heard “Old Yang” feigning a scream, “Old Wu, why aren’t you turning on the flashlight? Let me shine it for you!”

Then his flashlight lit up, and I was startled to see a massive python head rising right in front of my nose. Its body, as thick as a barrel, coiled around the cave. The rocks above my head and behind me had transformed into a wall of scales, dark as jewels. As Old Yang’s flashlight disturbed the surroundings, the scales around me began to twitch, and the body slowly rubbed against the walls, emitting a chilling hissing sound.

112 Qinling Sacred Tree – Chapter 37 – Diary

The cave was on the verge of collapse, with big and small rocks crashing down on my head without any regard for the danger. Staying even a second longer could mean being buried under the rubble. In this situation, it was already fortunate to have a way forward; how could I think of anything else? I grabbed him and shouted, “What do you mean we can’t go in? Are we supposed to wait outside to die?”

Old Yang said, “The situation inside is unclear. You should take a look first!”

I replied, “I can’t worry about that now. Look at this situation—whether it’s a dragon’s den or a tiger’s lair, we have to go in!” With that, I pulled him toward the cave.

Old Yang stubbornly held onto his own hand, refusing to let me pull him in, and said, “Please, just listen to me this once. We really can’t go in!”

As he spoke, he tried to pull me back outside. I was furious and was about to ask him if he was trying to get himself killed when suddenly a large rock crashed down. I quickly let go, and we both stumbled backward. The rock landed with a loud “boom,” blocking the entrance we had just been at.

I was terrified and shouted to him, asking if he was okay. After a long pause, I finally heard him groan, “I’m fine. Damn it, I just got hit on the head. It’s not collapsing anymore. How about you?”

I told him I was fine too, then pushed against the rock, but it didn’t budge. Realizing we were trapped, I looked around. I had initially thought this was another cave in the rock wall, and there would surely be an exit on one side. However, upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a closed space, very narrow, seemingly a natural crevice in the mountain. It felt strangely familiar.

After crawling a few steps over the rubble, I suddenly realized that this was also a cave formed after a collapse. However, this collapse had happened some time ago; everything that could fall had already done so, leaving only broken stones on the ground.

I had been puzzled as to why the giant snake was so powerful, able to smash the hard rock like that. Now it made sense: there had already been a collapse here before, and that previous incident must have caused significant damage to the surrounding rock layers. What appeared to be solid rock on the surface was actually cracked inside. When the giant snake crashed into it, it finally broke apart, creating this passage.

I looked up and saw that we were in a gap between two fallen giant rocks. The degree of their fit suggested it was very solid; even though the outside was still being struck, only dust was falling down here.

It seemed the giant snake had also exhausted its strength; its crashes grew lighter and finally ceased.

Still shaken, I recalled how Old Yang had pulled me earlier. If I hadn’t let go in time, I would have been crushed into a meat pie by now. I was furious and shouted from behind the rocks, “What the hell was wrong with you earlier? You almost got me killed!”

Old Yang, blocked by the rocks, couldn’t get in and retorted, “What do you mean I was wrong? Why don’t you look at yourself? Now what are we going to do?”

I dug through a few rocks and saw the beam of Old Yang’s flashlight shining through the cracks. However, the largest rock was at least the size of a dining table, and the gap was too small. I could stretch my hand out, but there was no way for me to squeeze through.

I struck the stones a few times, chipping away some white fragments. The two types of stones had the same hardness, making it quite laborious to break them. Lao Yang saw that the fragments I was smashing were starting to loosen again and hurriedly told me to stop, saying, “Take it easy. If you hit here again, it might collapse.”

I replied, “Sticking your neck out is just as risky as pulling it back. Whether we get crushed or starve, there’s no point in worrying too much.”

Lao Yang said, “It’s better if you don’t. We haven’t reached the end of our rope yet. Why don’t you take a look around and see if there’s anything special? If you find something, call me immediately.”

I looked around; it was dark, and all I could see were fragments of stone, so I told him there was nothing inside.

He fell silent for a moment and asked, “Are you really sure there’s nothing? Take another careful look.”

I said, “Why would I lie to you? This place is only as big as my backside; if there was anything, I’d definitely see it.”

Lao Yang replied, “Alright, take a closer look. I’ll head forward to see if it’s really blocked so solidly. Maybe there’s a gap we can crawl out of.”

As he spoke, his flashlight beam moved away. I leaned against the stone to rest for a moment, crawled into the gap, and looked around. I quickly realized there was no exit here; the stones above me weighed several tons. Being trapped here, it seemed I wouldn’t be getting out for at least a year or so.

As I ventured deeper, I found there was no path. Just as I was about to turn back, I suddenly noticed what seemed to be some drawings on the stone wall and hurried over to take a closer look.

At first glance, I thought they were primitive cave paintings, like some sort of graffiti, perhaps left by the ancestors who cast bronze trees. But upon closer inspection, I realized they weren’t; the drawings depicted an airplane and several English letters—clearly the work of modern people.

Who would do something like this in such a place? I felt quite puzzled.

Half of the graffiti was buried under the pile of stones at my feet. I moved the stones aside to see what exactly had been drawn. After shifting a large stone, a bundle of dark, tattered cloth appeared, resembling a piece of clothing.

As I pulled apart the ragged cloth, a shriveled, decayed human hand, with bones exposed, suddenly came into view. The hand was claw-like, as if it had tried to crawl out from under the rubble but had ultimately succumbed to exhaustion and died.

I was startled, nearly crying out. I thought, how could there be a dead person buried here? Could it be that this person was alive when the cave collapsed? But who was this person?

I continued to move the stones, and soon a complete corpse was revealed. The body had completely decomposed, suggesting it had been buried here for some time. Its clothing was in tatters, and I couldn’t tell what color it originally was. However, judging by the talisman hanging from its neck, this person might have been here for the same reason as us—looking for treasure.

Recalling the corpse I had seen at the bottom of the waterfall, which was similarly decayed, I thought that perhaps these two were part of the same group. Truly, some die for wealth, and some die for food; perhaps these two were destined to meet the same fate as mine.

I continued to dig, fully uncovering the corpse. I also found a backpack, completely rotted and nearly empty, containing only some black remnants that I couldn’t identify. I flipped it over, and from the compartment inside fell out a notebook.

The notebook was nearly falling apart, but fortunately, the paper quality was good, and the words written in blue ballpoint pen were still clear. I picked it up and took a look; the front contained some geographical locations and phone numbers. When I flipped to the back, I was suddenly struck by what I saw—there were some diary entries, and the date of the first entry seemed to indicate that it had started three years ago.

The handwriting of this person was quite juvenile, suggesting that they weren’t very skilled at writing. Each diary entry contained only about a hundred words. I quickly flipped through a few pages, and a chill ran down my spine.

From the entries, it appeared that this person had arrived here three years ago. The diary did not detail how they got here but instead began recording from the moment they became trapped in this cave. However, later entries occasionally mentioned their experiences before entering.

There were a total of eighteen people in their group, as mentioned in one entry: “Only I am left out of the eighteen.” It also noted that they did not enter through our route but rather came in through a massive tree hole in the banyan forest at the mountaintop, where the aerial roots wrapped around it.

This must be the banyan forest that Lao Yang mentioned. We never had the chance to go in, and I hadn’t expected there to be such a mystery inside. Had I known, we wouldn’t have gone through so much trouble.

But as I read on, I couldn’t help but feel relieved that we hadn’t taken that route, because the diary recorded that their descent was extremely perilous. Out of the eighteen who entered, only six made it out, while the others all died along the way.

It’s likely that the tree hole was located in the middle of the forest, possibly in one of the banyan trees that Lao Yang described, which were too large to be encircled by more than a dozen people. However, it’s unclear whether there was one tree or several in that forest. After they descended, their route was directly opposite to ours; we climbed straight up from the base of the bronze tree, while they must have dropped directly onto the top of the bronze tree.

What surprised me was that they mentioned not finding anything on the sacrificial platform and then descending along the surrounding walkway. At the bottom of the walkway was a pool of water, like an extremely deep pond, the water a vivid green with no visibility to the bottom.

They jumped into the pond and found the depth was immense; without equipment, they couldn’t dive down. The diving gear they brought was too small, and after a brief attempt, they had to give up. When the six of them surfaced, they were taken aback.

It turned out that while they were diving, the water level had dropped drastically. When they emerged, the walkway where they had left their gear was suddenly six or seven meters away from them. They hadn’t anticipated this; all the ropes were in their bags, not on their persons, and they panicked.

As the water level dropped rapidly, some of them climbed up to the bronze tree, while others ran into a cave exposed in the rock face. The owner of this diary entered the cave where I was, but unfortunately, he hadn’t been inside for long when a giant black serpent, like a dragon, suddenly emerged from the water and chased up the bronze tree. He only heard the screams of his companions and gunfire, which scared him into hiding in the cave.

This disaster struck suddenly; all his companions were desperate individuals. One of them, while fighting the serpent, detonated explosives just before dying. They had prepared explosives for blasting the mountain and had a significant amount, resulting in an explosion that shook the earth, even collapsing the cave where he was hiding.

The owner of the diary fainted temporarily from the explosion. When he woke up, he found himself trapped. He speculated that such a violent explosion must have killed everyone outside, and since he had no specific goal in his tomb raiding, he had no hope of rescue. He felt despondent.

The following content started to get a bit dull. He was trapped in the crevice for seven days, and the little food he had quickly ran out. He was both thirsty and hungry, and his battery had run out. In the darkness, he realized his time was running out and thought of his mother, who had no one to care for her, which made him feel utterly hopeless.

In the days that followed, due to hunger, he became delirious. One day he woke up, not knowing what time it was, only feeling an extreme thirst. In a daze, he grabbed the already dried-up water bottle and took a few gulps. Miraculously, sweet, clear water suddenly surged from the bottle. He didn’t understand what was happening, but greedily drank for over ten minutes, and the water showed no sign of diminishing.

He thought he was dreaming and believed he was close to death, experiencing hallucinations. He thought it might be better to just die like this. Then he considered that if it was a dream, there might still be food in his bag. When he reached in, he was overjoyed to find all the bags he had originally stored food in were full. He ate desperately, nearly choking himself in the process.

Gradually, he realized that all of this was not a dream. At first, he thought that God had come to save him, but as time went on, he felt increasingly that something was off. Eventually, he discovered that everything happening was somewhat connected to his thoughts, but it wasn’t infallible. For instance, when he concentrated on wanting a specific item, it wouldn’t appear. However, when he casually reached into his bag for food, he often found something he liked, even though there was nothing in the bag.

He began to consciously analyze and conduct thought experiments. Over time, he discovered his ability to materialize things. He wrote extensively about this period, and the experimental process was very complex. In the end, he didn’t conclude that he had a materialization ability; instead, he believed he had become the “delirious God.”

The graffiti on the rocks was likely drawn during this time when he was extremely bored. At the end of the diary, he wrote that he would try to use this ability to escape from there. If he succeeded, he could become a superhero; if he failed, he would die there. I don’t know what kind of experiment he ultimately conducted, but it seems that, in the end, he failed.

However, it’s uncertain whether it would be a good or bad thing for someone with such abilities to enter the real world. Seeing this corpse and thinking about my own situation, I couldn’t help but feel a chill. I had no food around me, and I feared I wouldn’t last even seven days. Besides, even if I had food, being trapped here endlessly would be worse than just dying.

I put down the diary and searched the corpse’s pockets, finding a mobile phone that was already dead. I tossed it aside and found a wallet containing some money. I thought to myself that everything might rot, but RMB would not rot—what a situation.

Inside the wallet was the person’s ID card. I pulled it out, wanting to see what this unfortunate soul was called. Shining my flashlight on it, I saw that the photo had become blurred, but the name was still clear: “Xie Ziyang.”

This surname is quite rare. The person who died in the underwater tomb, Xie Lianhuan, also has this surname. I glanced at this person’s birthday and noticed he was quite young; it’s such a pity.

Suddenly, a flashlight beam flashed from behind, and Lao Yang had crawled back, asking me from behind a rock, “Old Wu! What are you looking at?”

111 Qinling Divine Tree – Chapter 36 – Collapse

The giant eye approached rapidly, and the situation was chaotic. The entire bronze tree shook violently, making it hard for me to see how it was climbing. All I knew was that at this speed, we would be facing an encounter in less than ten minutes.

Old Yang looked so pale he could have turned green, continuously blaming me: “What on earth is going on in your head?”

I shouted in protest, “I swear to heaven, this is the first time I’ve seen this thing! If I’m lying, let lightning strike me!”

Seeing my resoluteness, he hesitated for a moment, “No way, who are you really?”

At this point, there was no time to estimate anything. I told him to stop wasting time and think of a way out; it was uncomfortable being stared at like that.

He said, “Don’t worry too much; it’s just one eye. How could it possibly crush us with its eyelids? When it comes up, I’ll just kick it blind.”

Before he finished speaking, a gigantic tentacle, like that of an octopus, suddenly whipped up and struck Amber. We swung around like acrobats in the air, crashing against the bronze wall. Amber shattered into pieces, and the corpse inside was torn apart, scattering down like flowers in the wind along with the fragments of Amber.

We both clung tightly to the bronze chains at the last moment, narrowly avoiding disaster, but we were left dizzy from the spin. I shouted at Old Yang, “This joke has gone too far! Can’t you transform? Quickly turn into a big cannon and blow this thing away!”

Old Yang cursed, “What the hell are you talking about! Is it that easy? Run!”

Without another word, we began to climb up the bronze chains. After just a few steps, my hands slipped, and I started to lose strength. I remembered the slippery plant on the tree roots and felt a surge of fear—was I really going to die here?

At that moment, Old Yang raised his hand, and I suddenly felt the slippery sensation disappear. He climbed up like a monkey and pulled me up, but I almost lost my grip. I complained, “If you have that ability, why not just turn into a ladder?”

He cursed back, “For heaven’s sake, stop complaining!”

We gritted our teeth and crawled into the coffin chamber. The mist above had already dissipated, and I wanted to take this opportunity to look at the other reliefs. Old Yang told me not to look anymore, saying, “What time is it? Come on, let’s climb up the coffin wall!” Suddenly, that tentacle shot up from the coffin pit like lightning, flipping the massive stone lid of the coffin into the air. The force was incredibly overwhelming, shattering even the iron-like tree roots. The entire bronze tree shook violently, filled with roots, decaying bark, and dust. Large pieces of roots and short branches broke apart and flew out like bullets, crashing onto the walkway and collapsing a large area.

We were both clinging to a slippery root, and this sudden force threw us out of the coffin chamber, landing on the sacrificial altar.

The tentacle burst out from the bronze tree and refused to go back in, writhing wildly and striking the nearby bronze statues, deforming them. Old Yang and I ducked down awkwardly, avoiding a few blows. Old Yang pointed at the path and urged me to get down, saying we’d be dead if we stayed up there. I remembered Boss Wang, who I had knocked out for Old Yang, and thought that although he was a jerk, he wasn’t irredeemable and shouldn’t be left to fend for himself. I quickly turned to look for him, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. Could it be that he was dragged down by those exploding tree roots?

The surrounding roots had already been uprooted, leaving only the ones that extended beneath the sacrificial altar. Old Yang saw me looking around and kicked me, telling me to look up. I glanced up and saw a massive stone slab, knocked into the air, crashing down. We hurriedly tried to escape. Old Yang rolled and grabbed his backpack hanging from a broken branch, and we both leaped onto the climbing rope that was used as a rope bridge.

As soon as we grabbed the rope, the stone slab crashed down onto the sacrificial altar, shattering it with a deafening sound. The rope we were holding trembled like a piano string, almost unable to bear the weight.

Looking back, I saw that the tree root we had hooked with the ice axe had been torn away along with the banyan roots wrapped around the coffin. Now there was only a pitiful bit left, straining under our weight, and the ice axe was starting to slip out, as if it wouldn’t hold for much longer.

I sensed that things were getting worse and urged Old Yang to climb faster, saying otherwise we would meet the same fate as Old Tai! Old Yang, upon hearing this, slapped me hard, leaving my ear ringing.

I cursed, “Damn it, are you addicted to hitting people?”

Old Yang shouted, “Is it okay not to hit you? Keep your head straight, don’t think about anything random—”

I yelled back, “What am I thinking about?”

Before I could finish, there was a loud bang. We turned to see the entire coffin chamber suddenly bulging out, cracking open in several places, and a massive black snake poked its head out. The tentacle was the snake’s tail, but this one-eyed giant snake had tiny scales, making it look more like a gigantic worm.

Once the one-eyed giant snake emerged, its enormous eye immediately turned towards us. Old Yang sensed the danger, suddenly pulled out a long-handled hunting knife from my waist, and swung it hard, cutting the climbing rope. We swung through the air like Tarzan and crashed onto the side of the path. This time, I had learned from experience and rolled on the ground to cushion the impact.

After Old Yang landed, he drew a short rifle from his backpack and shot at the giant snake’s eye. The bullet created a large hole, and the giant snake curled up in pain, its tail sweeping across, knocking down the entire row of the path above us.

Old Yang dodged the falling wooden debris, stood up, and kept shooting at the snake while pulling me down. I knew that this gun could hold five bullets, but in Old Yang’s hands, the bullets flew out like water, with no need for reloading.

Unfortunately, the caliber of the gun was still too small. The snake had learned its lesson after taking a bullet; it coiled up and protected its eyes with its body, causing all the bullets to hit its tail instead. Its scales were like iron armor, rendering our shots useless.

As soon as I saw that the gun was ineffective against it, I urged Lao Yang to run quickly. We ran all the way to the edge of the platform. Just as I was about to climb up the cliff, Lao Yang grabbed me and said, “What are you climbing for at a time like this?” Saying this, he pulled me and jumped down. We fell directly from the edge to the next layer of the platform, and suddenly heard a crack from the wooden boards below; they couldn’t withstand such a collision and immediately shattered into dozens of pieces. We fell through the boards and crashed through another layer, landing on the platform below.

This time, the fall was quite severe. When I got up, my mouth and nose were covered in blood. Lao Yang pulled me up and said, “I think I may have underestimated the situation. Are you okay?” I felt dizzy and couldn’t even tell him how I was, as the black giant snake had already descended like lightning down the bronze tree. Lao Yang said, “We can’t fight it, and we can’t escape either. Let’s find a cave below to hide in.”

I looked down and saw that there was no more platform below; only the small caves we had rested in earlier remained, densely packed with many of them. The snake was huge, so if we randomly found one to hide in, we should be able to avoid it for a while and think of a strategy.

At that moment, pulled by Lao Yang, we climbed down and entered the nearest cave, which was less than a meter in diameter. Just as we hadn’t even crawled to the bottom, suddenly the giant snake’s eyes appeared at the entrance, looking at us before it lunged forward, trying to squeeze in.

Lao Yang fired several shots, trying to force it back, but the bullets hit the snake’s head, only knocking off a few scales with no effect at all. The black snake’s massive head was as big as a liberation truck. After several attempts to enter and failing, it suddenly slammed its head against the cave entrance. Rocks flew everywhere, and we quickly retreated to avoid being crushed by the falling debris.

Seeing us retreat deeper into the cave, the black snake became furious and slammed into the entrance again. The entire cave shook, and we could hear the sound of cracking rocks echoing above us. The basalt here was already very unstable due to excessive excavation of the underground river channels. With such a collision, the delicate balance of the rocks was disrupted, causing a chain reaction in the cracks, and a fissure suddenly appeared above our heads.

Lao Yang saw that it was bad and pulled me to retreat to the back of the cave. I was still in shock and had only crawled a few steps inside when I heard a series of booming sounds. Suddenly, dust filled the air, and debris flew everywhere; I didn’t know what had collapsed.

Out of instinct, I curled up to protect my head as stones rained down from above, hitting me on my body and back multiple times. In the chaos, Lao Yang grabbed me and dragged me to his side, and at the same time, there was a huge crash as a stone the size of a writing desk collapsed, completely sealing the entrance of the cave.

Now, not only could the black snake not come in, but we also couldn’t see anything. However, it didn’t seem to give up and continued to slam against the cave entrance over a dozen times, causing more stones to collapse and cracks to appear on the surrounding rock walls.

Lao Yang said, “This isn’t going to work. This guy won’t stop until it kills us. If it keeps slamming, the mountain is going to collapse.” I turned to look and saw that we had retreated to the very back of the cave, with no way to retreat further. If it collapsed in a little more, even the greatest celestial being couldn’t save us.

At this point, we had reached a dead end. Even if we had explosives, we couldn’t use them in such a small space. As I watched the cracks around us slowly spreading, I felt an overwhelming sense of urgency.

Just then, a crack suddenly split open, and a section of the rock wall collapsed under the pressure. We pressed ourselves against the side, barely managing to avoid being crushed, but after the wall fell, we discovered a cave behind it.

I was overjoyed, thinking that heaven had not forsaken me. It must have been the collapse of the rocks between two caves that created a stone path in the middle. I quickly turned to call out to Lao Yang, eager to crawl inside.

However, Lao Yang suddenly blocked my way, saying, “We can’t go in!”

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