34: Chapter 34 The Door in the Stinking Ditch

Charcoal dust still clung to Sect Master Di Kun's fingertips, black ash mixed with dried blood. As the mountain wind blew, it scattered along the creases of his knuckles.

He did not wipe it off immediately.

The last of the twilight outside the hall sank away, and the damaged archway stood slanted in the night like a half-gnawed animal bone.

The Life-Skill Player lowered the fire in the medicine furnace, shrinking the flames to the size of beans, while the scent of wood ash from the three Breath-Concealing Cloaks smothered the body heat of the people present.

The Sect Protection Elder held his sword horizontally in the crook of his arm, the edges of the scabbard worn white. The Speedrunner squatted before the animal skin map, using a charcoal stick to touch up a few mountain trails. Loose Cultivator Gu stood outside the threshold, his toes curling back several times.

The Dark Souls Player leaned against a pillar, his complexion even worse than the ash from the medicine furnace, his hand gripping the bone spur so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Don't go," Sect Master Di Kun tossed the half-charcoal stick back onto the table, his voice lowered. "Your aftereffects haven't worn off. If you go, you won't be able to pull off a roll and will end up sending yourself into the mine shaft instead."

The Dark Souls Player's mouth twitched. "Sect Master, that sounds like a personal attack."

"Consider it workers' compensation," Sect Master Di Kun picked up a narrow strip of straw paper from the table and slapped it onto his chest. "You determine the backup extraction route. We won't retreat from the North Slope; in the worst-case scenario, we'll fall back to the rocky gully near the Demon Ridge."

The Speedrunner looked up. "That route is two miles longer, and the slope is covered in loose rocks. It's hard to traverse at night."

"That's why I'm giving it to him," Sect Master Di Kun glanced at the Dark Souls Player. "He may not be stable in other things, but he is very reliable at finding paths to death."

The tense Qi in the hall gave a slight tremor at this remark; someone among the Life-Skill Players nearly laughed out loud but swallowed it back. The Dark Souls Player stuffed the straw paper into his shirt, the bone spur sliding in with it, creating a hard ridge.

"Fine, I'll stay on the mountain," he raised his hand and tapped his chest twice with his thumb. "But if you guys run the route in reverse, I'm not taking the blame."

Sect Master Di Kun turned to leave the hall. "Save the pot for boiling medicine when we return."

By the time the night swallowed the mountain gate, the small team had already left the outskirts of the Taichu Sect. Sect Master Di Kun was half-draped in a Breath-Concealing Cloak; the coarse fabric rubbed against the back of his neck, and the scent of wood ash tasted bitter in his nasal cavity.

The Sect Protection Elder walked to the rear-left, his footsteps silent, only occasionally allowing his scabbard to brush gently against his waist when passing over loose rocks.

The Speedrunner walked pressed against the mountain wall, fingers occasionally brushing the stone surface as if verifying an invisible mini-map.

The two Life-Skill Players carried bundles on their backs, the bottles and jars inside pressed tightly together and bound securely with cloth strips.

Loose Cultivator Gu was sandwiched in the middle, sweat quickly forming on his forehead.

He carried no weapons at his waist, only a short hoe. His palm repeatedly reached for the handle, then let go.

Halfway up the mountain, he could no longer suppress his voice. "Sect Master Di, is it enough if I lead the way to the outskirts? I've only heard of the location Zhao Heng gave, and the people in the Abandoned Mine Warehouse recognize me."

Sect Master Di Kun did not look back. "Nervous?"

Loose Cultivator Gu's throat bobbed. "Who wouldn't be? The Red Snake Sect kills Loose Cultivators without blinking, and the Market Guards are even more ruthless. If I'm recognized, my body might not even be left intact."

"You are an informant, not one of our own," Sect Master Di Kun stepped over a withered branch, crushing it into the mud with his boot sole. "If you want to trade your life, trade value for trust first. If you lead us astray by a single step, you won't be the only one dying tonight."

Loose Cultivator Gu's hand slid from the short hoe, his fingertips brushing against his hem and leaving a damp smear.

The Speedrunner glanced at him from the side. "Don't shake; the shaking makes your clothes rustle. If you're really scared, just learn from how we run maps in the game—keep your eyes only on the next foothold, not the destination."

"Game?" Loose Cultivator Gu was stunned for a moment.

The Life-Skill Player behind them suppressed a laugh. "They mean don't overthink it; if you think too much, it's easy to fall into a ditch."

Sect Master Di Kun did not stop them. Approaching the perimeter of the Abandoned Mine Warehouse, the sound of voices could actually help steady one's steps; what truly leads to disaster is never talking too much, but having a blank mind.

They did not head straight for the North Slope.

The window of opportunity Zhao Heng provided was on the northern slope, where there was a collapsed old mine shed. The night patrol would have a ten-breath gap every half hour. For a Cultivator, ten breaths were enough to slip in, but also enough to be trapped and beaten like a dog.

Sect Master Di Kun led the team around to the eastern cliff face of the Abandoned Mine Warehouse. Gaunt vines grew on the cliff, and mine slag had been washed by rain into black streaks clinging to the stone surface. After climbing halfway up, the group lay low. The entire outline of the Abandoned Mine Warehouse was spread out below. Lanterns hung under the beams of the mine sheds, swaying in the wind, their light and shadows cutting across the shoulders and backs of the guards.

Sect Master Di Kun reached into his sleeve, wiped the remaining charcoal ash with his fingertips, and followed the light and shadows with his eyes.

The North Slope was indeed empty.

When the two patrol teams passed each other, a black gap would be revealed at the entrance of the collapsed shed. There were no hound-beasts, no hidden sentries, and even the loose rocks had been swept away to form a line.

It was uncomfortably clean.

The Speedrunner lay beside him, chewing on half a grass stem, which was gradually getting shorter. "Sect Master, the time Zhao Heng gave is correct. There is a window on the North Slope, and the patrol interval is also right."

Sect Master Di Kun asked in a low voice, "Does it look like an entrance for a beginner tutorial?"

The Speedrunner spat the grass stem into his palm and crushed it with two fingers. "Too much so. The path has even been cleared, as if they're afraid someone won't see that they can enter."

The Sect Protection Elder lowered his eyelids, pulling his scabbard an inch closer to his chest. "Someone is waiting at the North Slope."

"Or perhaps they aren't waiting for us," Sect Master Di Kun's gaze shifted from the North Slope to the middle section of the Abandoned Mine Warehouse. There was a hidden wall backing against the mountain, newly patched with mud that was lighter in color than the old stone. "Zhao Heng doesn't have the guts to lie entirely. The window he gave is real. As for who this door is opened for, we'll only know once we get inside."

Loose Cultivator Gu, lying in the back with his face pressed against the cold stone, trembled slightly upon hearing this. "Then are we still taking the North Slope?"

Sect Master Di Kun turned his head.

Loose Cultivator Gu immediately lowered his voice. "There, there is a drainage ditch under the eastern cliff. In the early years, the mine leaked water, and it drained from there into the mountain stream. Later, it collapsed once, the iron grate rusted, and the ditch is full of foul mud and mine slag. Normal Cultivators find it dirty and narrow; no one wants to walk it."

The Life-Skill Player's eyes lit up. "An iron grate?"

"Yes," Loose Cultivator Gu raised his hand and pointed downwards. "It's behind that black puddle at the base of the cliff, covered by vines. It's narrow inside; you have to crawl low, and your clothes will be ruined."

Sect Master Di Kun looked at the North Slope, then at the black puddle.

The lamp shadows on the North Slope remained empty, like a silently open mouth. Under the eastern cliff, there was only the sound of water, and the stench of decay crawled up with the cold wind, pressing into his nostrils.

He raised his hand and pressed down on the Breath-Concealing Cloak on his shoulder. "Take the ditch."

The Speedrunner grimaced. "Sect Master, this route is very undignified."

"Being able to win while alive is more important than walking with dignity."

Loose Cultivator Gu swallowed the rest of his words, the panic in his eyes frozen. The Sect Protection Elder was the first to slide down the cliff, his palm gripping the vines until the dry bark peeled off; he left a shallow pit in the mud beside the black puddle.

The group moved along the base of the cliff. The further down they went, the heavier the stench became; the mine slag was mixed with rotting grass roots, feeling soft and sticky underfoot. The Life-Skill Player fished a roll of fine needles and two small pottery bottles from his bundle, crouched behind the vines, and pushed the leaves aside.

The rusted-shut iron grate was revealed.

The iron bars were covered in thick black grime, the gap only wide enough for half a person to squeeze through sideways. The Life-Skill Player inserted a lock-picking needle into the keyhole, twisted his fingertips twice, and the tip snapped off inside. He cursed under his breath, took out another pottery bottle, and poured corrosive liquid into the lock seam.

A faint hissing sound arose, and white smoke emerged from the rust, the smell so pungent that Loose Cultivator Gu hurriedly covered his nose.

"Quietly," Sect Master Di Kun pressed his hand against the edge of the iron grate, the surface cold and damp beneath his palm. "If we make noise here, then watching that door on the North Slope was for nothing."

The Life-Skill Player bit down on a cloth strip and switched to a second needle. The tip probed along the gap created by the corrosion; the spring clicked, and the iron lock did not fall to the ground but was caught in his palm, wrapped in cloth beforehand to muffle the sound.

The iron grate was pushed open by half a palm's width, and rust flakes fell with a rustle into the foul water above.

Sect Master Di Kun was the first to lower his body and crawl in. The sewage immediately submerged the tops of his boots, the cold creeping up his pant legs. Mine slag scraped against his wrist guards, making a faint, gritty sound. The ditch was so narrow he couldn't raise his head; he could only support himself with one hand on the slick stone wall while keeping the other on the short blade at his waist, his shoulders and back constantly brushing against the mud and grime overhead.

Someone behind him retched in a muffled voice; the Life-Skill Player shoved a ball of herbs over. "Keep this in your mouth. Don't vomit; it'll smell even worse if you do."

The Speedrunner, crawling and shuffling ahead, stopped when his palm felt a fork in the path. "The current on the left is stronger; it leads to the mountain stream. There's the vibration of cart tracks on the right; it should lead into the belly of the mine."

Sect Master Di Kun pressed close to the ground and indeed heard a very low sound of rolling wheels. The sound came through the stone wall, clack, clack, bearing the dull thud of a heavy load.

"Right."

The end of the drainage ditch was half-blocked by loose rocks, which the group moved aside one by one with their hands. The Sect Protection Elder pressed his palm against the largest piece of Ore, veins bulging on his arm, and the stone was slowly shifted under pressure, revealing a half-foot gap at the top. Cold air leaked out from inside, carrying the smell of lamp oil and animal feces.

Sect Master Di Kun peered through the gap.

The mine shaft inside the Abandoned Mine Warehouse was wider than the outside, and the ground was paved with wooden tracks. There were fresh cart tracks beside the rails, the mud and water on the edges not yet dry, and drag marks extended from deep within the mine shaft toward the direction of the warehouse's hidden wall. A few footprints had stepped over the drag marks; one had a deep tread pattern, and the mine mud it kicked up still hung on the edge of the wooden rail.

They were transferring goods overnight.

Sect Master Di Kun pressed his fingertips into the mud, the wet sludge sticking to his skin. He raised his hand in a stop gesture, and all sound behind him was suppressed.

A dispute came from the distance.

"Move any slower, and tomorrow morning you can wait to have your hands chopped off!"

"The Marketplace side hasn't finished counting the accounts yet. If a box is missing, will you Red Snake Sect folks pay for it?"

"Pay your mother! Something just happened at the Beast Taming Ground; those lunatics from the Taichu Sect bite the moment they catch a scent. If the accounts and goods aren't transferred cleanly, everyone will be dragged down with them!"

"Stop arguing. The Assistant Recorder is behind us; whoever talks too much dies first."

Sect Master Di Kun's eyebrows twitched.

The fire at the Beast Taming Ground hadn't been fully extinguished, and the Abandoned Mine Warehouse had already begun severing its tail. The door Zhao Heng provided was still open at the North Slope, yet the accounts and goods in the warehouse were moving deeper through the secret passage. The black chain was in chaos, and it was in chaos faster than he had estimated.

And more ruthlessly so.

The Speedrunner pressed up to Sect Master Di Kun and silently mouthed two words: Almost there.

Sect Master Di Kun nodded and crawled into the mine shaft through the gap in the rocks. The Sect Protection Elder landed afterward, his scabbard pressing lightly against the wooden rail without making a sound. The Life-Skill Player pushed a few rocks back to cover the drainage ditch opening. Loose Cultivator Gu came out last, half his sleeve soaked through with foul water, his face pale, but he didn't ask again if he could go back.

They followed the cart tracks toward the hidden wall of the warehouse area.

There were very few lamps in the mine shaft, the wicks trimmed short, the light only enough to illuminate the tracks underfoot. Sect Master Di Kun stopped every few steps to listen to the distant sound of wheels and the passcodes. The Red Snake Sect members shouted "Snake Tail," and the Market Guards shouted "Clearing Accounts." The two sides' passcodes didn't match, and there was always a brief pause during the handover.

This pause was the blade's edge.

Behind the hidden wall of the warehouse area, the lights suddenly brightened. Sect Master Di Kun lay in the shadow of a wooden crate and saw a team of porter laborers emerging from a small door in the wall. Six laborers were carrying two sealed boxes, the corners reinforced with copper, and the low light of Spirit Stones pressed together leaked from the seams. Two Red Snake Sect Cultivators followed behind, holding blades and guarding the team, their scabbards wrapped in red snake skin. Further back, a gray-robed Recorder held a black wooden box, with three sealing talismans pasted on its surface.

Loose Cultivator Gu's fingers suddenly gripped the edge of the wooden crate, his nails nearly splitting the wood.

Sect Master Di Kun turned his head to look at him.

Loose Cultivator Gu's lips were white, his voice so soft it was drowned out by the sound of cart wheels. "The Account Box."

In the darkness, a point of cold light hung down from the mine beam, like the exposed fang of a venomous insect.

Sect Master Di Kun pushed the short blade half an inch out of its scabbard. The blade did not reflect light, revealing only a dark line in the darkness. Ahead, the porter laborers lifted the sealed boxes, the wooden poles bending under the weight, and the Spirit Stones clinked softly inside the boxes. The Account Box was held tightly by the gray-robed Recorder, who was walking toward a secret door deeper in the mine shaft.