Yan Tuo’s hand trembled as it rested on the doorway’s stone pile. He suddenly turned back to ask Lin Xirou: “Whether human or ground xiao, after transformation using Nu Wa’s flesh, do they maintain their appearance from the time of transformation, neither growing nor aging?”
Since Xing Shen had said “Gag her,” Lin Xirou had wisely remained silent, probably fearing someone might do it. But now that someone was asking her directly, she didn’t mind answering.
She said: “Yes, crossing Black and White Ravine means crossing boundaries. After that, as outsiders, how could you expect to grow, develop, and reproduce like natives? That’s why we need blood sacs—when the body begins to fail, we supplement with fresher ones.”
Yan Tuo’s mind buzzed: This was almost certainly Yan Xin. The early Bandaged Army wouldn’t likely have brought a child into the green soil.
Outside, an extremely eerie wave of sound began.
This sound—calling it ghost-wailing would be a compliment. It was a hundred times worse than glass or metal scraping, impossible to tell if it was higher or lower frequency. It was extremely uncomfortable to the ears, and this discomfort even stimulated the nerves and heart. Yan Tuo felt his ears ringing and chest tightening, almost to the point of nausea.
Others weren’t much better off. While covering her ears, Nie Jiuluo took deep breaths: She instinctively felt this sound coming from white-eyed ghosts or xiao ghosts—no one knew what the underground world was really like. It seemed that even while maintaining human form, the long-term underground environment had completed subtle modifications to various aspects of their bodies.
After the sound wave, the attack began.
Yan Tuo finally understood why Lin Xirou called white-eyed ghosts “apex predators.” They were too fast—after entering attack mode, what you saw wasn’t objects but successive flying black shadows, like wind-blown smoke, gone in an instant, rivaling special effects in films. It seemed their previous ambush was merely a warm-up for them.
Someone couldn’t hold steady and fired the first shot in panic, then as if a floodgate opened, gunfire erupted instantly. Amid the dense gunfire, ghostlike figures either quickly dodged or kicked off the ground, leaping toward the beacon tower.
As the first round of gunfire subsided, not a single white-eyed ghost’s corpse remained on the ground. Not only that, but no white-eyed ghosts were visible within range.
Datou was both angry and confused: “They… where are they?”
The answer came as soon as he spoke.
Suddenly, scratching sounds came from the beacon tower’s top and outer sides, rustling and scraping like thousands of locusts devouring crops, waves of sound repeatedly striking their eardrums.
What were they doing now?
Nie Jiuluo was the first to realize: “Are they dismantling the building?”
Indeed, soil soon began falling from above: This beacon tower was originally built by hollowing out an earthen mound, and although wooden frames and stone slabs were added inside for reinforcement, they were merely supports.
However broken the beacon tower might be, having a roof and four walls gave people psychological security. If it was completely torn down, wouldn’t they have to face everything with just their bodies?
Datou let out a strange cry, recklessly raising his gun and spraying bullets randomly at the top. Others followed suit, blood rushing to their heads. Suddenly gunfire erupted everywhere, with soil falling like heavy rain from above.
Yan Tuo’s heart tightened as he shouted: “Don’t shoot!”
Xing Shen immediately understood and also called for them to stop, but amid the intense emotions and chaotic gunfire, both their voices were completely drowned out.
In the chaos, what seemed like a black shadow fell from above but quickly withdrew amid people’s cries of alarm.
The white-eyed ghosts’ attack appeared to be pushed back by the intense firepower. As the second round of sporadic gunfire stopped, the beacon tower’s top and sides were riddled with holes, with several breaches appearing above.
Shan Qiang said anxiously: “I’m out of ammo.”
Yan Tuo sighed internally—this was why he had tried to stop them earlier: Everyone had guns, true, but ammunition was purely consumable. How could it withstand such wild, indiscriminate firing?
After Shan Qiang’s reminder, others also realized they were nearly out of ammunition, and panic immediately escalated.
Outside fell silent again. After a few seconds, thick blood dripped down along the edges of the breaches.
Someone exclaimed happily: “We hit them!”
Datou dampened his enthusiasm: “With such dense fire, you’d hit one or two by pure luck. But what use is taking down one or two? They come in waves.”
Xing Shen’s forehead broke out in sweat: “Guard each breach. This time don’t shoot blindly—wait until they’re close before pulling the trigger. They retreat so fast, your previous shooting style just helped them deplete our ammunition.”
Lin Xirou suddenly gave a cold laugh.
Datou angrily asked: “What are you laughing at?”
Lin Xirou remained composed: “You’re almost out of bullets. After another round like that, you’ll be waiting to die. Here’s a feasible suggestion: flee in different directions, two by two, in all directions. With luck, maybe two groups could escape. Better than all dying here, right?”
Shan Qiang clutched his empty gun with its burning-hot barrel, half his body trembling. He swallowed and returned to his previous suggestion: “Brother Shen, maybe… let’s talk? Communicate with them. We were all one family in ancient times, perhaps considering our ancestral bonds…”
Just then, terrified screams and gunfire erupted from the doorway.
The two guards at the door, thinking there was a temporary ceasefire, had been distracted from listening to the conversation inside when suddenly, a head with long white eyeballs emerged from beneath the stone pile—a white-eyed ghost had crawled to the doorway, lying motionless before suddenly attacking.
How could these two withstand this? Even knowing Xing Shen had just ordered them to conserve ammunition, they couldn’t help but pull their triggers frantically, desperate to shred that white-eyed ghost to pieces.
This gunfire seemed to signal the start of the third round. Amid the eerie sound waves, another wave of white-eyed ghosts attacked, even more fiercely than before. The sound of claws scraping walls was as dense as rain, soil and dust constantly collapsed, wooden supports creaked, and the entire beacon tower seemed about to collapse.
With Xing Shen’s previous order, everyone was more restrained with their shooting this time—of course, possibly because they had few bullets left and needed to use them sparingly.
Suddenly, a white-eyed ghost hung upside down through a breach in the roof, grabbing someone’s head and yanking them up like pulling a radish, head and body together. The person screamed in terror, but it happened so suddenly that when others looked up at the sound, they only saw his legs kicking desperately at the breach before disappearing. After being pulled up, he seemed to be thrown away, as his cries for help quickly became distant, disappearing completely in less than two seconds.
Yan Tuo watched with his heart pounding, instinctively pulling Nie Jiuluo behind him and guiding her arms around his waist.
Nie Jiuluo said softly: “I’m still okay.”
She didn’t use guns, so it wasn’t yet time for her to act.
Shan Qiang couldn’t hold back anymore. Waving his arms wildly, he shouted at the top of his lungs: “Time out! Time out! Let’s talk! Let’s talk first!”
Since their encounters began, they had never tried calling out to the white-eyed ghosts. Whether out of surprise or genuinely understanding his desire to talk, the scratching sounds outside temporarily subsided.
Delighted, Shan Qiang first swallowed hard, then took two steps toward the side, looking upward as if this would help the white-eyed ghosts hear more clearly: “We’re descendants of the Bandaged Army! Bandaged Army! We’re the same as you! Qin Dynasty! All from the Qin Dynasty! Let’s not fight—if there are misunderstandings, we can clear them up!”
Lin Xirou couldn’t contain herself anymore and burst into laughter, almost to the point of crying.
Shan Qiang froze, looking at her in confusion. At that moment, the side wall suddenly broke open, instantly enveloping him in dust and smoke. Before he could react to what was happening, he was dragged out.
Datou, who had known Shan Qiang for a long time, saw him captured and was about to shoot. Yan Tuo stood nearby and quickly pushed his gun away: “Who are you shooting at? You might miss the white-eyed ghost and kill Shan Qiang instead.”
Like the previous captive, Shan Qiang seemed to be thrown away, his cries for help instantly becoming distant before falling silent.
The beacon tower fell quiet again inside and out, and everyone’s nerves stretched to the limit: perhaps, in the next second, they would lose another person.
Only Lin Xirou was still laughing, almost unable to catch her breath.
She said: “Are you all idiots? Still want to communicate and talk? The white-eyed ghosts are from the Qin Dynasty—they don’t speak Modern Standard Chinese and can’t understand it. They speak ancient dialects, with pronunciation and tones worlds apart from today. Underground, they’ve mixed with underground speech, and over so many years, even their way of making sounds has changed. Do you just start speaking proper Modern Standard Chinese to communicate? They can’t understand you at all! Don’t dream about claiming kinship or asking for favors!”
“Even I had to start learning your language from pinyin when I went above ground…”
Her tone suddenly turned cold: “Why aren’t you running yet? Waiting to be picked off one by one?”
These words were quite inflammatory, and someone wavered immediately: “Brother Shen, should we… go?”
Though saying this, they hadn’t taken a step, knowing well: that only a mass exodus scattering in all directions would achieve the effect of escape. If anyone fled alone, they’d be like the first rafter sticking out, caught as soon as they left.
Several others were tempted, joining in: “Let’s take the chance—better for some to escape than none.”
Lin Xirou felt a trace of satisfaction. She slowly leaned back, whispering in Feng Mi’s ear: “When they all flee, I’ll use the chaos to push down the earthen wall—you’ll be buried inside, understand?”
The earthen wall was already unstable from gunfire anyway. When the time came, with everyone fleeing in different directions and white-eyed ghosts pursuing them, no one would notice someone buried there.
If they could deceive the white-eyed ghosts, Feng Mi would have a chance to escape.
Better to save one than none. She had soil from a dissolved Nu Wa statue—with the soil and Feng Mi, their foundation could continue. Even if they were nearly at zero now, they could rise again.
Unexpectedly, Xing Shen said: “Guard the breaches, one person per hole, quickly, don’t be careless!”
He added: “We’re finished if we go out—with the white-eyed ghosts’ speed, how could you outrun them? Together, we still have hope.”
As the leader, once he spoke, others had to comply even if dissatisfied.
Yan Tuo certainly didn’t have to listen to Xing Shen, but in the current situation, running outside wasn’t necessarily better than staying put. Better to remain still than move, so he chose to stay.
Strangely though, after Shan Qiang was taken, the white-eyed ghosts’ attack seemed to pause again, with dead silence at the doorway, observation holes, and breaches.
What were they planning? Xing Shen felt uneasy. He carefully approached an observation hole: from this side, he couldn’t see anything for now.
He tried Datou’s hole—still nothing unusual.
He focused on his hearing.
But he didn’t need to waste energy anymore.
A flare shot up nearby, its light almost illuminating the entire area. Yuan Rong’s shout came from afar: “Is that Xing Shen? We heard gunfire and followed the sound here.”
Hearing Yuan Rong’s voice, everyone was overjoyed. Even Datou, who didn’t get along with Yuan Rong, let out a long sigh of relief.
Companions had arrived—they could breathe easier now.
Only Yan Tuo’s heart sank.
He looked at Nie Jiuluo and said quietly: “Don’t know if she followed the sound here, or if the white-eyed ghosts deliberately let her come.”
Nie Jiuluo nodded.
No wonder the white-eyed ghosts’ attack suddenly stopped—perhaps they discovered Yuan Rong’s group heading this way and specifically waited for them to arrive before striking.
Or perhaps the attack itself was a trap, using the noise to attract scattered Bandaged Army members eager to reunite with their companions.
Once everyone was gathered, the killing could begin properly. Yuan Rong’s arrival might not be good news at all.