Initially thinking devising the plan was the hardest part, they discovered preparation was even more challenging.
They needed to find many things: cables, timber, fuel, cloth strips, various hooks for making climbing tools and hand rakes, harness straps for securing bodies, and even footholds—if necessary when climbing, they could select a spot on the inner wall, burn into it, insert a foothold, and use xirang’s regenerative force to seal most of the foothold, leaving only the stepping part exposed, which should be as secure as cement casting.
The three split up to search for materials. Fortunately, as the Shinko Maru was a Japanese military transport ship, it had many useful items. Though soaked when the ship sank, the dome’s dryness had inadvertently helped preserve them.
Zong Hang even found two boxes of military rations. Some cans were bloated, but most remained sealed. He stared at them, swallowing: it had been over seventy years since the Shinko Maru’s incident—seventy-plus-year-old canned food… but being military supplies, wouldn’t they be more reliable in all aspects?
He grabbed two cans along with his other found materials and headed back.
Just turning a corner, he heard murmuring voices—seemed like Ding Yudie and Yi Sa were talking.
Zong Hang was excited and about to go over…
“This should work, let Apa handle the rope, his strength should be enough. For the remaining tasks, opening the path or guarding the rear, we’ll choose between us two.”
It was Yi Sa’s voice.
Were they… assigning tasks? Zong Hang instinctively slowed his steps.
Ding Yudie’s disgruntled voice came through: “Fine then, so I’ll guard the rear, right? How could I let a woman take the most dangerous position? Really…”
He drew out his tone: “…the weak always get their way, those without skills get special treatment.”
Yi Sa was unhappy: “What are you saying?”
Ding Yudie said: “Am I wrong? Don’t the weak need looking after? Fine, I accept it, just hope they don’t drag us down…”
The voices gradually faded.
Zong Hang stood dazed, taking a while to realize.
Ding Yudie was talking about him.
He wasn’t wrong—tall as he was, he was still the weak link.
He felt inexplicably guilty, couldn’t lift his feet, somewhat afraid to go back.
After dawdling for a long while, he finally mustered the courage to return to the cabin.
Ding Yudie wasn’t there, probably searching for materials in another direction. Yi Sa sat on the ground whittling wood—the timber would be split between three people, and to avoid excessive weight, each crosspiece needed controlled dimensions.
Hearing movement, she didn’t look up: “What did you find?”
Zong Hang didn’t respond, just dropped a handful of materials with a clatter.
Yi Sa blew away fresh wood shavings: “By the way, Ding Yudie and I discussed it. I’ll take the lead, you handle the rope, just follow me.”
Zong Hang gave a sound of acknowledgment, then found an opening to mumble: “Yi Sa, let me guard the rear instead.”
Yi Sa was somewhat surprised, looking up at him: “Why?”
Zong Hang gave a random excuse: “Because leading or handling the rope are both pretty important, I’m afraid I won’t do well. Guarding the rear… is convenient, even if Jiang Jun catches up, I can kick him down from above.”
Yi Sa said: “You overheard something, didn’t you?”
Having his thoughts exposed so directly, Zong Hang’s face burned.
Yi Sa dusted off her hands, pushed aside the whittled wood, and pulled over some rope, tying adjustable loops for inserting crosspieces at intervals: “An electrician doesn’t compete with a cook at cooking. For guarding the rear, whoever can do it should do it. Forcing yourself to do something you can’t will only mess things up, not make people think you’re capable. Ding Yudie was just complaining without ill intent, don’t take it seriously… What did you find?”
True, now wasn’t the time to dwell on personal emotions. Zong Hang pointed at his pile of materials, specifically bringing over the two cans of military rations: “Yi Sa, do you think these… are still edible?”
Yi Sa took them to look.
Zong Hang explained: “Some are bloated, these two aren’t, just… they’re definitely past their expiration date…”
Halfway through speaking, he suddenly felt his question was stupid: of course, they weren’t edible. At home, Tong Hong would throw out rice and oil approaching expiration, let alone something seventy years past…
He wanted to take them back, pretend it never happened.
Unexpectedly, Yi Sa pondered and said: “They might be edible.”
Huh?
Before Zong Hang could ask, Ding Yudie had already popped up through the open door, eyes gleaming: “What’s to eat? Did I just hear something about food? What food?”
After seeing the cans in Yi Sa’s hands, Ding Yudie was greatly disappointed.
A couple of days ago, while wandering the ship, he’d also seen those two boxes of cans, but anyone with half a brain would know…
Expired for seventy years—he wouldn’t eat them even if you killed him, don’t try to convince him about good sealing.
But that’s exactly what Yi Sa was talking about.
The Cambodian War ended late, and she often went to the Cambodia-Vietnam border, hearing many stories about wartime and Vietnam War-era things, including American military rations.
She used the can’s built-in tool to open it: “Concepts like expiration dates and food preservatives only appeared in modern society. During World War II, they say military rations were produced using high-temperature sterilization, then sealed in cans. Theoretically, if well-sealed, not bloated, and kept in a dry environment, bacteria wouldn’t grow inside. And as you can see, these aren’t the pull-tab type we have now, they need special tools to open…”
As she spoke, there was a click as she pulled off the lid.
Ding Yudie and Zong Hang both leaned in to look.
It seemed to be red bean glutinous rice. Though rather dry, it looked surprisingly intact, just with a slightly sour smell.
Yi Sa picked up a grain of rice to chew—no moldy taste or stench. Then she tried a red bean, but the beans seemed off; she immediately spat it out.
Following her lead, Ding Yudie and Zong Hang each tried two or three grains of rice, chewing carefully.
Ding Yudie’s adamant refusal to eat wavered. He sniffed and stared at the can: “How about this—we remove the beans, just eat the rice, and first roast it over the fire to sterilize, just to be safe.”
Finally able to set out with full stomachs, though everyone had eaten quite a bit of char due to the roasting, at least they had something substantial inside.
The tablecloth was inconvenient for movement, so Zong Hang cut it into rectangles—one piece in front, one in back after pulling it over the head, tied with thin rope, making for nimble attire.
Everyone carried weight, but Zong Hang voluntarily took the heaviest pack and even took some from Ding Yudie and Yi Sa: when climbing the honeycomb, they’d also be in front, middle, and rear formation—Yi Sa leading, Ding Yudie guarding the rear against Jiang Jun’s early appearance. These two shouldn’t be heavily loaded; Zong Hang felt it reasonable for him to carry more.
Ding Yudie didn’t stand on ceremony with him, just muttered softly to Yi Sa when leaving: “He knows how to handle himself, huh.”
Yi Sa smiled slightly.
After smiling, she felt a bit sorry for Zong Hang: this wasn’t about knowing how to handle oneself—it was completely different from those calculating attempts to curry favor and please others.
The three “burned” through that xirang stone wall, making their way to the passage entrance.
Probably because the ceiling xirang had all “awakened,” it was brighter than before. Looking over, vertical honeycombs stretched from floor to ceiling.
No sign of Jiang Jun or anything unusual yet.
The three carefully and stealthily snuck like thieves into the gap between two nearby honeycombs.
With a meal of rice in their stomachs, their arms and legs had strength. Plus, the chambers formed natural footholds. Yi Sa climbed quickly, though with the corpses facing outward in the chambers, every step meant passing four or five heads—an indescribable feeling.
Zong Hang followed closely, barely resting, taking it one chamber at a time, remembering Yi Sa’s instruction to only look up, not down.
Ding Yudie brought up the rear, constantly watching for movement below, with a rifle slung over his shoulder—ready to bluff Jiang Jun if he appeared, or throw it to reduce weight if bluffing failed.
After climbing two to three hundred meters, Yi Sa stopped to catch her breath.
Looking down, the height was already dizzying. Looking up, less than a hundred meters remained of the cave ceiling.
Their speed was good, smoother than expected.
Yi Sa steadied herself, about to climb again, when suddenly she heard “boom, boom” sounds.
Not continuous, with ten-plus second intervals between each sound, like hitting a large cowhide drum, with the mallet falling only occasionally. Strangely, the sound was getting closer.
Yi Sa’s heart pounded wildly. After listening intently for a few more seconds, she suddenly realized.
Someone was jumping like King Kong from one honeycomb to another, then climbing around and jumping to the next, and the sound was coming this way, from high up.
Damn! The sound approached so fast, and at this awkward height, there wasn’t time to climb up or retreat down. Yi Sa’s arms shook with anxiety, and then the honeycomb they were climbing trembled…
He’s here!
In desperation, throwing caution aside, Yi Sa ducked into a chamber, unable to make sound or signal the water ghost way, hoping Ding Yudie and Zong Hang would follow suit.
The chamber housed an elderly man with a topknot. Yi Sa held her breath, pushing him to face the wall, then pressed her palms together and bowed to him twice.
So sorry, this was truly a last resort—if they got out safely, she’d burn incense for him.
She lay flat, trying to squeeze as far in as possible.
The sound stopped.
What happened? Why did the jumping stop? There were still several panels ahead—had he noticed something unusual about this honeycomb?
Impossible—with so many chambers, thousands upon thousands per panel, you couldn’t spot anything at a glance unless checking each one.
Had Zong Hang and Ding Yudie been discovered? Unlikely—there would have been shouting if something happened.
Yi Sa lay motionless, cold sweat streaming.
Finally, movement again—a “boom” on the opposite honeycomb. She saw a lean figure with an enormous head and blue-white back, moving at incredible speed, passing diagonally across the honeycomb-like a crawling beast.
He must have crossed that honeycomb. After a while, another “boom” sounded, moving away.
Yi Sa exhaled deeply, her limbs weak.
Jiang Jun wasn’t human anymore, moving freely at such heights and distances, leaping and darting in ways that would make even monkeys envious.
Fearing he might return after reaching the end, Yi Sa didn’t rush out, staying flat: hopefully, Zong Hang and the others had the same awareness and wouldn’t emerge rashly.
What was Jiang Jun doing? After killing Jiang Xiaoguang, acting like a gatekeeper at this nest—he must have a purpose.
Yi Sa examined the chamber.
Like a hexagonal coffin.
All corpses lay head-outward, flat—what were they used for?
Yi Sa turned over, lying flat in the chamber, looking carefully before noticing a tiny hole above her head, only as thick as a pencil, easy to miss.
Yi Sa probed with her little finger, which seemed too thick. As she puzzled over this, her back suddenly chilled.
Heavy breathing came from not far above her head, along with a faint stench of decay.
Someone was outside the chamber, watching her.
Yi Sa’s heart raced, and then she slowly raised both hands in surrender. Sensing no movement from the other party, she slowly turned over and looked up.
It was…
A woman with wild, grass-like tangled hair and a face of strange bone structure—wide-set eyebrows, one brow ridge protruding while the other was flat, a crooked nose, and even her mouth corners were at different heights.
Yi Xiao?
Her sister?
That face couldn’t penetrate through the years to connect with the memory of that pretty, bold face with bright eyes and white teeth.
The “Sister” stuck like a fishbone in her throat couldn’t be called out.
Didn’t Ding Yudie say something had happened to her? How was she here, and how did she climb to such a height?
While still confused, Yi Xiao suddenly threw back her head and let out a sharp howl: “Here!”
Before Yi Sa could react, Yi Xiao thrust in one hand, grabbed her hair, and yanked her entirely out.