47: Chapter 47 Crossing the River

That eye blinked.

Its pupil was vertical and a deep, eerie green, like two balls of ghost fire dancing in the darkness. It stared at Shen Qingqiu, stared at Lu Zhao, stared at everyone present, its gaze cold and devoid of any emotion.

Shen Qingqiu knelt before the skeleton, her entire body frozen.

The eye was less than three feet away from her; if it reached out from the crevice, it could bite off her head with a single snap. Yet, she could not move, as if fixed in place by something. She was ice-cold all over, unable to even lift a finger.

"Miss Shen!"

He Shan shouted, drawing his bow and nocking an arrow, ready to shoot at the eye.

Lu Zhao pressed down on his arm.

"Don't move."

His voice was very soft, but carried an unquestionable power.

He Shan was startled, and lowered his arrowhead slightly.

Lu Zhao stared at that eye and said slowly, "If it wanted to harm us, it would have done so already. It is watching."

Watching what?

Watching who they were?

Watching why they came?

Or watching—whether they were worth the effort of attacking?

The eye blinked again, its pupil contracting, before it slowly retreated and pulled back into the crevice.

"Hiss... Hiss..."

The sound gradually faded, as if something was slithering behind the stone wall, moving further and further away until it vanished completely.

The stone chamber returned to silence.

Only Shen Qingqiu's suppressed sobbing echoed in the empty room.

Lu Zhao walked over and crouched beside her.

"Your father..."

Shen Qingqiu nodded, her face streaming with tears. She reached out and tremblingly untied the token from the skeleton's chest. The token was tied to a leather cord, which had long since rotted and snapped at the slightest touch. The token fell into her palm, ice-cold and heavy.

She stared at the token for a very, very long time.

Then she raised her head and looked at the skeleton's face.

The skeleton's head hung low, its features obscured. But the shape of the jawbone and the curve of the brow ridge faintly revealed what it had looked like in life.

When she was a child, she often lay in her father's arms, touching his chin. Her father's chin was square with a shallow groove. Her mother said that was a sign of good fortune, meaning he would become a high official when he grew up.

The chin of the skeleton before her also had a shallow groove.

Shen Qingqiu closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

When she opened them again, the tears were gone.

She straightened her posture and solemnly kowtowed three times.

"Father," she said softly, "your daughter has come to see you."

Her voice was very soft, but in the empty stone chamber, it carried quite far.

The "hissing" sound behind the stone wall had long since vanished. The entire stone chamber was terrifyingly quiet, with only her own heartbeat, "thump, thump, thump," clear and audible with every beat.

She knelt for a long while before finally standing up.

Lu Zhao watched her without saying a word.

She turned and looked at the stone wall behind the skeleton.

The crack in the wall was still there, pitch black, leading to who knows where. That eye from earlier had reached out from inside it.

"What is that?" she asked.

Lu Zhao shook his head. "I don't know. But it won't come out for now."

He paused and asked, "How do you want to handle your father's remains?"

Shen Qingqiu was silent for a moment, then said, "I will take them back and bury them next to my mother."

She crouched down and pulled a piece of cloth from her bosom—the one Granny Xue had given her before she left, saying it was for wrapping medicine—and spread it on the ground. Then, she carefully picked up the skeleton bone by bone and placed them into the cloth.

Skull, spine, ribs, arm bones, leg bones...

She picked them up very slowly and carefully, pausing after each one as if saying goodbye to her father.

When she reached the end, she suddenly froze.

Beneath the skeleton lay something else. It was a palm-sized wooden box, pitch black, made of some unknown wood. The surface of the box was covered in dense, layered, and intricate runes.

She picked up the wooden box and examined it closely.

The box had no lock, but the lid and the body were so tightly sealed that she couldn't open it. She tried channeling a trace of True Qi into it, but the box didn't budge; only the runes on its surface glowed faintly for a moment before dimming again.

"This is..." she murmured.

Lu Zhao leaned in to take a look and said, "We'll study it when we get back to the village."

Shen Qingqiu nodded and tucked both the wooden box and the token into her bosom.

The five of them continued walking forward.

Behind the stone chamber was a passageway that stretched straight ahead, leading to who knows where. On the stone walls on both sides of the passage, there was an oil lamp every few yards, but the oil had long since dried up, leaving only blackened lamp holders hanging on the walls.

After walking for about the time it takes to burn two incense sticks, the sound of water suddenly came from ahead.

"Whoosh—whoosh—" It was the sound of a flowing stream.

Everyone quickened their pace.

At the end of the passage was a naturally formed limestone cave. The cave was over ten zhang high and at least a hundred zhang in circumference. At the bottom of the cave was an underground river, the water rushing and pitch black, bottomless. The river was about five or six zhang wide, and the opposite bank was pitch black, with nothing visible.

"This is the underground river Uncle Ya mentioned," Shen Qingqiu said. "Following the river will lead us to the belly of the mountain."

He Shan held up the fire starter and shone it around, then suddenly pointed not far away. "There's something over there!"

Everyone walked over.

On the riverbank, amidst a pile of rocks, a small boat was half-buried.

The boat was made of iron plating, covered in rust, with several holes in the bottom. The hull was tilted, half-submerged in the water. An iron chain was tied to the bow, with the other end embedded in the stone wall, so rusted that it had seemingly fused with the rock.

"This boat..." A-Fei leaned in to look. "Can it still be used?"

Uncle Ya crouched down and tapped the hull. The iron made a "clang, clang" sound; it wasn't too badly rusted, but the holes were troublesome.

He stood up, looked around, then suddenly walked to a section of the stone wall on the bank and reached out to touch it.

There were traces of excavation on the stone wall. A row of grooves, spaced two feet apart, extended from the bank into the darkness in the distance. Iron rings were embedded in the grooves, with ropes tied to them—the ropes had long since rotted, leaving only a few blackened strands.

"This is for pulling the boat," He Shan said. "People stand on the boat, pull on these iron rings, and inch their way forward."

Lu Zhao nodded and looked at the river.

The water was rushing and pitch black, bottomless. Who knew what was hidden beneath the water—that water python had come out of this very river.

"Are we crossing?" Han Meng asked.

Lu Zhao was silent for a moment, then said, "We cross."

The five of them worked together to drag the small boat out of the pile of rocks.

The boat was not large, about two zhang long and five chi wide, barely able to squeeze five people. There were three holes in the bottom, the largest the size of a washbasin and the smallest the size of a fist. Shen Qingqiu tore off a piece of her garment, stuffed it into the holes, and sealed them with talisman paper, barely managing to stop the leak.

Uncle Ya picked up a few thick branches, whittled them into paddles, and gave one to each person.

"Get on the boat."

Lu Zhao was the first to jump onto the boat. The hull rocked, sitting deep in the water, but it didn't sink.

Shen Qingqiu was the second to board. She held her father's remains in her bosom, moving with extreme care.

He Shan and A-Fei boarded in turn. Uncle Ya was the last to board; he pushed off the bank with his wooden paddle, and with a strong shove, the boat left the shore.

As soon as the boat hit the water, it began to spin.

The current was too swift and the hull too light; it couldn't be stabilized at all. Lu Zhao grabbed his paddle and rowed with all his might. The boat barely stabilized, drifting downstream with the current.

"Grab the iron rings!" he shouted.

He Shan reached out to grab an iron ring on the bank. He caught the first one, and the boat jolted and stabilized for a moment. He caught the second one, and the boat inched forward again.

Just like that, the five of them took turns rowing and grabbing the iron rings, inching forward bit by bit.

Shadows swam past beneath the water from time to time—large ones, small ones, fast ones, slow ones. Some passed under the boat, causing the hull to vibrate slightly; others brushed past the side, kicking up a spray of water.

A-Fei's face turned pale; he gripped the gunwale tightly, not daring to let out a breath.

Uncle Ya stared into the water, clutching the rope tied to the copper bell. The rope trembled slightly, but the bell didn't ring—those things were just passing by and had no intention of attacking.

After inching along for about the time it takes to burn two incense sticks, the way ahead suddenly opened up.

The river had reached its end.

On the opposite bank was a naturally formed stone platform, two or three zhang in circumference, and quite level. Behind the stone platform was a stone door.

The stone door was about three zhang high, entirely blue-gray, and covered in moss. Characters were carved on the lintel, but they were blurry and impossible to read.

"We've arrived!" He Shan shouted.

The boat docked, and the five of them jumped onto the stone platform.

The feeling of having solid ground under their feet was truly wonderful.

Behind the stone platform, the stone door was tightly shut.

Shen Qingqiu walked to the door and held up her fire starter to examine the carved characters on the lintel. After looking for a while, her brows slowly furrowed.

"This is... ancient seal script?"

Lu Zhao asked, "What does it say?"

Shen Qingqiu said, "Two characters. The first is 'Wu' (Martial), and the second..." She paused. "The second character is too worn out; I can only see half of it. It looks like 'Ku' (Armory), or perhaps 'Zang' (Burial)."

Martial Armory? Or Martial Burial?

Everyone looked at each other.

Uncle Ya crouched down and felt the bottom of the stone door. There was a gap about half an inch wide between the door and the ground, and a cool, chilly breeze was blowing out from inside. He lay down, pressed his ear to the ground to listen, then suddenly stood up and pointed to the center of the stone door.

In the center of the stone door was a depression.

The depression was about the size of a palm, with an irregular shape and worn edges—exactly the same as the depression at the base of the stone pillar.

Shen Qingqiu was startled; she pulled the complete token from her bosom and compared it.

It fit perfectly.

She looked at Lu Zhao.

Lu Zhao nodded.

She took a deep breath and pressed the token into the depression.

"Click." A soft sound.

The stone door vibrated slowly and slid inward, opening a gap. The gap grew wider and wider, until finally, it swung wide open, revealing a pitch-black space inside.

A chilly, gloomy wind blew out from inside, carrying a strong, moldy smell mixed with an indescribable, strange aura—like rust, and also like the fishy stench of rotting bones.

It was exactly the same as the previous two times.

Behind the door was a long corridor.

The corridor was about two zhang wide and three zhang high, stretching straight ahead, with no end in sight. On the stone walls on both sides, a night-luminescent pearl was embedded every few yards, emitting a faint, eerie green light that barely illuminated the path ahead.

The floor was paved with blue stone, laid out neatly piece by piece. The blue stones were covered in dust, with scattered animal bones and a few black patches that looked like dried bloodstains.

The five of them stepped into the corridor.

Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, "tap, tap, tap," sounding exceptionally clear.

After walking about thirty zhang, three forks appeared ahead.

Left, middle, and right—all were pitch black, leading to who knows where.

Everyone stopped.

"Which one should we take?" He Shan asked.

Uncle Ya crouched down and touched the ground with his hand.

On the floor of the left fork, there were animal tracks—three-toed, very large, just like the footprints at the fork in the stone chamber earlier. The tracks were messy, with both entering and exiting, clearly showing that something frequented this path.

On the floor of the middle fork, there were human footprints. The footprints were very old, covered in dust, with blurred edges, dating back at least several decades. The direction of the footprints—some went in, but none came out.

On the floor of the right fork, it was the cleanest. There were almost no traces, only a few scattered spots that looked like water droplets.

Uncle Ya stood up and looked at Lu Zhao.

Lu Zhao stared at the three forks and was silent for a long time.

The middle fork—someone had gone in, but no one had come out. Had the person who went in died, or had they exited from somewhere else?

The left fork—something frequently entered and exited. What was it? Was it the water python, the mountain demon, or something else?

The right fork—it was the cleanest. But did clean mean safe?

He recalled what Shen Qingqiu had said: Ruins are like the human heart; places that look clean often hide the deepest traps.

"Which one should we take?" He Shan asked again.

Just as Lu Zhao was about to speak, a "rustling" sound suddenly came from the left fork.

The sound grew closer and louder, as if something was moving rapidly.

Everyone's expression changed.

The next moment, countless eerie green dots of light lit up in the darkness!

It was bats.

Fist-sized cave bats, their eyes glowing with an eerie green light in the darkness. They swarmed out of the left fork, filling the sky, a black mass rushing toward the five of them!

"Protect your heads and faces!" Lu Zhao shouted.

The bats slammed into them, causing stinging pain. Their claws scratched, their wings flapped, and their screeching was ear-piercing. A-Fei was knocked back, stumbled, missed his footing, and tumbled toward the right fork.

"A-Fei!"

Shen Qingqiu reached out to grab him but missed. She herself was knocked off balance by the bats, dodged to the side, slipped—and tumbled into the right fork.

"Miss Shen!"

He Shan tried to pursue but was blocked by the bats. He slashed down a few with his blade, but more swarmed up, scratching his face and biting his hands.

Lu Zhao channeled his Golden Bell Cover, True Qi coating his entire body. The bats slammed into him as if hitting an iron plate and were sent bouncing off. He pushed through the swarm of bats and rushed to the right fork.

The fork was pitch black, and nothing could be seen.

He only heard Shen Qingqiu's voice coming from deep within, very soft and very distant: "I'm okay... but there's... something here!"

Just as Lu Zhao was about to rush in, a shout came from Uncle Ya behind him—no, it wasn't a shout, it was the frantic "ding-a-ling-ling" of the copper bell!

He turned around abruptly.

Deep in the middle fork, something was moving.

It wasn't bats. It was much larger than bats. A massive dark shadow was slowly walking toward them. With every step it took, the ground trembled slightly.

"Tap." "Tap." "Tap."

The footsteps grew closer and closer.

In the darkness, two eerie green eyes lit up.