Ding Xi wanted to laugh.
It was Ding Changsheng.
This old man, thin and small, who had ordered him around all his life – what made him think he could still control his life and death? Just because of a sneak attack? Did he believe that Ding Xi couldn’t strangle him with one hand…?
As Ding Xi tried to stand up, blood gushed from two wounds on his waist and abdomen. He grabbed Ding Changsheng’s outer garment, bunched it up tightly to press against his wounds, and shakily stood up. Extending just one hand, he mockingly beckoned to Ding Changsheng: “Come on, try again…”
This taunt proved unnecessary. After just two gestures, Ding Changsheng charged forward like a fierce beast, knife aimed straight at Ding Xi’s ribs. Ding Xi’s stance was already unsteady, and he hadn’t expected such a violent assault. They both tumbled down – though fortunately, Ding Xi’s quick reflexes allowed him to grab Ding Changsheng’s wrist, forcefully holding the knife tip two or three centimeters away from his heart.
Ding Changsheng’s eyes were bloodshot, his gaze empty, with an eerie smile frozen on his lips. The force on his wrist kept increasing, pushing the knife tip closer and closer. Ding Xi couldn’t hold him back with one hand alone and had to release the hand pressing his wound to use both hands in resistance.
This feeling was terrible but somehow familiar: just like that time in the kitchen of the boat on Poyang Lake when he fought against Zong Hang – someone who seemed so weak that a single punch should have been enough to knock them down suddenly possessed extraordinary strength, forcing him, with over a decade of martial arts experience, to fall back…
During their deadlock, Ding Changsheng gave a venomous smile. His elbow suddenly dropped, viciously pressing against one of Ding Xi’s wounds. Ding Xi’s vision went black, his body nearly curling into a ball. As he watched the knife tip bearing down again, he felt that what flowed from his wounds wasn’t blood, but his remaining strength.
He felt that this time, he truly wouldn’t make it.
But looking at Ding Changsheng’s face, growing larger as it drew infinitely closer, a fierce fire suddenly ignited in his heart, fueled by boundless unwillingness: if Zong Hang killed him, it would be tooth for tooth; if Yi Sa killed him, it would be to avenge Chen Tu – neither death would be too unjust. But you, Ding Changsheng, what right do you have?
As before, he thought: I can die, but you’re coming with me!
His teeth clenched as he made his decision. His wrist suddenly exerted force, deflecting the knife tip towards his lower ribs, then abruptly released his grip. Ding Changsheng hadn’t expected the resistance to suddenly disappear – the knife plunged straight in. Almost simultaneously, Ding Xi used every ounce of strength in his body to roll over, pinning Ding Changsheng beneath him. His freed hands firmly gripped Ding Changsheng’s head and smashed it violently against the ground.
A muffled thud rang out, once, then again. Ding Xi’s eyes reddened and finding the ground not hard enough, he began frantically pounding with his fists. After who knows how long, Ding Changsheng lay unconscious, his face a bloody mess. The blood from Ding Xi’s three knife wounds had nearly formed a small lake around him, not to mention the knife still stuck in his ribs.
As he raised his fist once more, his strength suddenly gave out, and he could no longer lift it. He collapsed face-first onto the ground, and after catching his breath for a long while, slowly pulled out the knife. The blade wavered above Ding Changsheng’s heart for a moment, and once he was certain of the position, he laboriously drove it in.
He wouldn’t make the mistake of letting his opponent wake up and continue attacking him.
The snow grew heavier, flying everywhere, appearing blood-red in Ding Xi’s vision. In a daze, his hand groped around nearby until he finally found the bundle of gauze that had fallen from Ding Changsheng’s clothes earlier. He grabbed it and, bit by bit, began stuffing it into his wounds.
As he stuffed the gauze, his vision gradually blurred, and his hand fell limply to his side.
Impervious to water, fire, and blade – so close, yet utterly helpless.
Ding Panling smiled bitterly and sat down heavily: the view here was good, like being on a not-too-high cliff with water below, the vast cavern in sight, and the ancestral tablet right behind him.
Zong Hang still wouldn’t give up, examining the ancestral tablet from all angles, desperately hoping to find another way to deal with it. Yi Sa found it both amusing and pitiful, sitting down next to Ding Panling and turning her face away.
Ding Panling suddenly pointed to the distance and asked her: “Sasa, can you climb up there?”
Following his gesture, she saw the tunnel opening that should lead to the surface at the top of the cavern. The water hadn’t filled it yet, with at least ten meters between the water surface and the opening.
Yi Sa checked her watch – it was nearly four in the morning. In another hour or two, this underground chamber would close.
She shook her head: “It’s too far from the surface. Even if we had handholds and footholds, we couldn’t climb such a long distance.”
Ding Panling was silent for a moment, then said: “But we must try to climb. As descendants of the three families, we can’t just sit and wait for death. Even if we die, we should die trying to survive.”
Yi Sa gave a slight laugh, lacking even the energy to argue.
What was the point of giving her motivational speeches now? Below on the water’s surface floated so many corpses of the three families’ members, scattered about, silent and still, their deaths sudden and pathetic, even unclear – their ghosts would be confused.
Ding Panling’s gaze also fell on those corpses, then moved away after a while. His expression grew grave as he muttered: “We thought it was the brain of the Taisui, but it wasn’t. It can’t harm people by itself – it just controls the breathing soil. They work hand in glove, inseparable. The breathing soil only fears fire, and it can recover after burning. It has no weakness, not even a vital point. How can we break through? How can we deal with this…”
His mumblings grew more desperate until finally, feeling it was truly invincible and impenetrable, he laughed and asked Yi Sa: “How do you think we should handle this?”
Before Yi Sa could answer, he suddenly grew serious and said softly: “No, no, there must be a vital point…”
Zong Hang watched nervously, feeling that Ding Panling was becoming obsessed, but didn’t dare say much. Just then, Ding Yudie’s confused shout came from below: “Is anyone there? Uncle Panling? Sasa? Hey, Aunt Yunqiao, wake up…”
Looking down, they saw that Ding Yudie had awakened, but as he looked around, he forgot to glance upward. Those above were all exhausted and too tired to waste energy calling out to him. After a while, Ding Panling instructed Zong Hang: “Go down and help them get free, and also…”
At this point, he seemed to suddenly remember something. His body stiffened, his face quickly flushed, his nostrils flared violently, and his chest heaved dramatically. His gaze grew unfocused, yet it wasn’t the vacant kind.
Yi Sa felt uneasy: “Uncle Panling?”
She called twice before Ding Panling came to his senses. In just this brief moment, fine sweat had appeared on his temples, and he seemed somewhat disoriented: “What? What was I just saying?”
Yi Sa had to remind him: “You just told Zong Hang to go down and help Ding Yudie get free…”
Ding Panling finally remembered: “Right, right, and don’t tell them what they did while they were unconscious.”
Zong Hang acknowledged and efficiently slid down through the previous opening to the next membrane chamber, then to the next. Yi Sa was still concerned about Ding Panling’s earlier strange behavior: “Uncle Panling, what happened to you just now? Did you think of something?”
Ding Panling’s gaze returned from the opening, answering indirectly: “Zong Hang is a good young man.”
Yi Sa was taken aback: “What do you mean?”
In any other situation, bringing up this topic might have made her embarrassed, but at this moment, in these circumstances, she had no such feelings – she only felt distressed. If Zong Hang hadn’t come back, he wouldn’t have been dragged into this desperate situation.
Ding Panling smiled: “What do you think? How could you not understand? Was he coming back for me?”
He used the shiny blade of his dagger to check his reflection: “Your Uncle Panling doesn’t have that kind of charm.”
It was rare for Ding Panling to joke at a time like this. Yi Sa wanted to laugh but couldn’t.
“Sasa, do you know that besides the Executive Council, there’s also a Central Council in the three families?”
Yi Sa shook her head, though by now she had a general idea of what it was.
“The Central Council is composed of water ghosts and core members of the Executive Council, led by water ghosts. They don’t interfere with daily affairs, only handling secret matters that might endanger the three families.”
Yi Sa listened quietly.
“The leader is designated by the previous one, and when it’s time for me to pass on the position, I’ll designate the next person.”
Saying this, he pointed at Ding Yudie below, who had just broken free and was questioning Zong Hang incessantly: “After much thought, it can only be him.”
Yi Sa spoke too quickly: “Him?”
She immediately regretted it, feeling her tone had been rather contemptuous.
Ding Panling chuckled: “I know, you privately call him ‘moth head’…”
Yi Sa blushed.
“But Sasa, have you considered that he’s not as clever as you are, it’s not about intelligence – he simply lacks your experience. You went to Cambodia early on, saw all kinds of scams, and met all sorts of people. What about him? He rarely interacts with others, spending his time either practicing water ghost skills or studying shipwrecks…”
“Energy is like fertilizer – wherever you apply it, that’s where the tree will bloom. Put him in a high position, and to avoid being blown down and shattered by the wind, he’ll have to learn how to stand firm and take root. So his current inability doesn’t mean future inability. People have unlimited potential – the present doesn’t represent the future, just as the past doesn’t equal the future… Sasa, go quickly.”
As Ding Panling spoke so unusually about the Central Council and succession, Yi Sa felt increasingly uneasy. When she heard the final words, she was completely confused: “Where am I supposed to go?”
Ding Panling looked toward the hole in the distant dome: “As I said before, don’t sit waiting for death. Take the path of survival, grasp even the slightest hope. Even if you die, die trying to survive.”
Just then, Zong Hang’s anxious shout came from below: “Yi Sa! Uncle Panling, look down! Look down!”
The tone wasn’t right. Yi Sa’s mind went blank as she quickly looked down.
At the base of the Taisui’s remains in the water directly below, countless shimmering lights began to appear, flickering like stars, then gradually merging into streams of light.
Yi Sa shouted: “The breathing soil! The breathing soil is reviving!”
Ding Panling quickly stood up: “Go! Quickly!”
Yi Sa’s heart pounded, and her calves trembled as she ran: only Zong Hang’s flamethrower was still working, and even that had little fuel left – there was no way they could withstand another attack from the breathing soil…
Reaching the opening, she went down first. As soon as she slid into the membrane chamber, she quickly searched for the previously broken room, going down level by level until she reached the bottom, then crawled out through the half-flooded passage. In just this brief time, those light streams had grown into wriggling sprouts – their speed was no joke. Yi Sa’s temples throbbed: “Uncle Panling said we need to escape, climb even if we can’t make it to the top, die trying to get out…”
Speaking to this point, she suddenly paused and looked back urgently.
Something was wrong – Ding Panling hadn’t come down with her: he had said “go quickly” and made as if to rush to the opening with her, letting her go first, but he hadn’t followed.
Looking up, sure enough, Ding Panling stood at the edge above, forcefully waving them away: “Go! Run as fast as you can, immediately!”
Ding Yudie was completely confused. Yi Yunqiao shouted: “Ding Panling, aren’t you coming? Staying behind is just pointless sacrifice – let’s all make a break for it together!”
Ding Panling stopped speaking and stopped waving, standing in place like an old pine tree.
Yi Sa gritted her teeth. Seeing the sprouts stirring at the bottom of the water, already as long as tadpoles, she knew Ding Panling wasn’t acting on impulse, and at a time like this, hesitation was the worst thing: “Go! Climb the cliff wall first, then the tunnel, go!”
The four of them, like four streams of water, rushed to their designated positions. Halfway through swimming, Yi Sa couldn’t help but look back and saw that Ding Panling was no longer in his original spot.
She didn’t look again, turning back to swim: sometimes, everyone must fight their own battles, not knowing their companions’ plans or seeing the path ahead – just focus on doing your own part.
First, they had to climb the cliff wall, then climb upside down to the tunnel opening. Yi Sa helped Zong Hang remove his flamethrower: “It’s too heavy, travel light.”
She gave him a boost: “Quick, don’t dawdle, go as fast as you can.”
On the other side, Yi Yunqiao was supporting Ding Yudie, who was injured in the leg and needed assistance. As Yi Yunqiao helped him up one position, she happened to look back and suddenly saw that Yi Sa had picked up Zong Hang’s discarded flamethrower and put it on.
Yi Yunqiao’s heart skipped a beat, and she stared at Yi Sa. As Yi Sa was about to climb, she suddenly met Yi Yunqiao’s gaze. After a moment’s hesitation, she moved closer and said softly: “Aunt Yunqiao, protect Zong Hang and Ding Yudie.”
Yi Yunqiao pretty much understood.
She looked back at the mountain of flesh. Ding Panling was no longer visible, but beneath the mountain, countless shimmering lights swayed under the water like frantically growing wild grass.
So, even escape had its order – some were protected, while others sacrificed themselves to protect.
Yi Yunqiao hesitated for a moment, then suddenly reached up to grab the shoulder strap of the equipment Yi Sa was carrying. Yi Sa reacted quickly, instinctively moving sideways to avoid the grab, causing Yi Yunqiao to grasp empty air.
Yi Yunqiao didn’t withdraw her hand, saying in a hoarse voice: “Sasa, give it to me. You’re still young, I’m older than you.”
Yi Sa stared at her blankly, her mind suddenly buzzing.
She had always thought Yi Yunqiao took care of her only because the Yi family lacked water ghosts, that all those words about “poor Sasa, losing her family so young” were just pleasantries. She had looked down on Yi Yunqiao’s constant fretting, carrying the Yi family’s account book and complaining about the other two families taking all the advantages…
From above came Zong Hang’s anxious voice: “Hurry up! Why are you still down there?”
Yi Sa snapped back to reality, gave Yi Yunqiao a smile, and forcefully suppressed the surge of emotions in her chest.
This wasn’t the time for sentiment and emotions.
“Aunt Yunqiao, I have my reasons for staying behind. Don’t argue, just hurry up.”
She stopped looking at Yi Yunqiao and began climbing the uneven cliff wall. Occasionally she would look back: the breathing soil’s revival was more violent than expected, the water shimmering like growing shrubs. Even Zong Hang, who was climbing at the front, had only managed to climb a few meters despite his heavy breathing.
It was probably impossible to climb up anyway – bare-handed, at high altitude, with energy consumption far greater than normal, many places with no footholds or handholds. Sometimes they could only stick their ghost daggers into cracks in the wall for leverage. Yi Sa helped Yi Yunqiao support Ding Yudie from both sides as they climbed, her heart growing colder with each step.
As they approached the tunnel opening, Yi Sa looked back once more, her heart sinking.
The breathing soil had fully grown, like hundreds of hooked vines or intertwined snakes, densely packed, writhing and swaying, each dripping venom and baring fangs, as if preparing for a grand feast.
Yi Sa looked up at Zong Hang, at his arms and legs trembling from climbing, and smiled slightly.
How she hoped he could make it home.
She let go, falling straight down into the water.
It was cold, terribly, terribly cold.
Ding Xi had only heard from Ding Changsheng about the scene when he was found, never remembering it himself, nor could he possibly remember.
But now he suddenly saw it – the Yellow River bank in winter, pale sunlight, ice covering much of the river surface, but with breaks in the ice where muddy yellow water flowed.
Near the shore, people must have walked frequently, so there were no large ice chunks. In the yellow water floated transparent pieces of ice, crystal clear. He was still in the form of a small child, wearing only thin clothes, rolling and crawling in the water, wailing, his thin small hands slapping the water surface, his body and clothes covered with yellow icicles here and there.
Then, Ding Changsheng came, his face blending into the cold sunlight, only his silhouette visible as he walked toward him step by step…
Cold, so very cold.
Ding Xi slowly opened his eyes, and as his facial muscles moved, the snow covering him slid off.
The first thing he saw was the vast expanse of pure white.
The snow was indeed much heavier than before, like a thin blanket covering his body. He could no longer feel his wounds.
He had sent some people to their final rest before and knew his time was near too.
Beside him, Ding Changsheng still lay sprawled out like a thoroughly dead old dog, his body covered by snow, only the knife handle still exposed.
This man had adopted him, then killed him. In his previous life, he must have owed Ding Changsheng quite a debt, repaying it with hardship in this life, but at least it was almost over.
Ding Xi painfully turned his head and saw the tilted pulley hoist in the distance.
He thought of Zong Hang.
That time, he had shot Zong Hang three times, each shot in the chest and abdomen. Zong Hang hadn’t died immediately, lying there like he was now, eyes wide open, looking at him.
Back then, he didn’t know what Zong Hang was thinking.
Now he knew – Zong Hang might have been thinking: this world is so vast, with so many people and possibilities ahead, but when those two eyelids close, like two locks without keys clicking shut, they’ll never open again.
Ding Xi smiled, his voice so muffled it didn’t sound like his own: perhaps karma exists in this world. He had been stabbed three times, each in the chest and abdomen, as if measuring weight for weight, repaying past debts.
Ding Xi used all his remaining strength to roll over and crawl toward the pulley hoist.
He crawled desperately, his mind blank, almost no feeling left below his chest and abdomen. Occasionally he would stop to swallow some snow from beside his mouth. Finally reaching the hoist, he grabbed the frame and gradually stood up.
Looking back, he saw a winding trail of blood. His vision was failing, but the trail didn’t look blood-red anymore – more like pink, unevenly mixed into the white snow.
He grabbed a rope on the frame and tied himself to the machine column to prevent falling, using the frame as a crutch as he pushed and shuffled to the cave entrance.
Checking the time, there were ten minutes left until the next scheduled hour.
This movement made his wounds bleed again, dripping like a terminal patient struggling to urinate. Ding Xi pressed the switch, watched the rope slowly lower, and then reached back to pull open the nearest car door.
His fingers were somewhat stiff, or perhaps just weak. It took quite a while to pull it open, but fortunately, the camera was right there on the driver’s seat. He didn’t need much effort to turn it on, pointing the lens at himself, though the angle might only capture his lower body, but that didn’t matter anymore.
Ding Xi smiled.
He asked the round lens: “Bet you didn’t expect that even dying, I’d do one last decent thing?”
“Hope someone makes it up here soon, don’t waste my crawling all this way like a dog.”
Hearing the splash, Zong Hang instinctively looked down.
Seeing it was Yi Sa, he first thought she had lost her grip and fallen from exhaustion, but then seeing the flamethrower on her back and that she was swimming toward the rushing breathing soil, his hands and feet suddenly went cold. He shouted: “Yi Sa!”
Just as he instinctively wanted to follow, he heard Yi Sa’s sharp command: “Don’t you dare come down! Keep climbing up!”
Yi Yunqiao also shouted: “Hold on tight, don’t get distracted, don’t let others sacrifice in vain!”
Ding Yudie held tightly to a protrusion, his face pale, asking Yi Yunqiao: “Aunt Yunqiao, did you plan this together?”
Yi Yunqiao gritted her teeth, speaking to both Ding Yudie and Zong Hang: “Now climb up, don’t waste all our efforts, understand? Climb!”
Ding Yudie shouted: “I understand, but why does it have to be Sasa? This isn’t fair! We could have drawn lots, could have discussed it together, why make this arrangement without saying anything?”
As he spoke, Yi Sa had already raised the gun, flipped the switch, and swung the barrel in an upward arc. The tongue of flame opened a brilliant fan in mid-air, scorching away the vanguard of breathing soil.
Looking up urgently, she saw Zong Hang frozen in place and heard Ding Yudie still arguing about fairness. She used all her strength to shout: “Zong Hang, are you going to listen to me or not? There’s a soft-covered notebook in my bag, read it and you’ll know why it has to be me. Now climb! Hurry up and go!”
As she spoke, from the corner of her eye she caught two or three tendrils of breathing soil twisting toward her. She quickly raised the gun and fired again, but began to feel uneasy: the enemy seemed to have learned, no longer coming all at once but in twos and threes, like guerrilla warfare, deliberately depleting her fuel. At this rate, she wouldn’t have many shots left.
Seeing neither of them moving, Yi Yunqiao knew she had to be the bad guy: “If you won’t climb, how can you face Sasa fighting for her life down here? If you want to cry for her, climb up first then cry. What’s the point of this now? Don’t you understand what’s important? You’re supposed to be men, why are you being so indecisive at a time like this?”
Ding Yudie’s nose stung, but he clenched his teeth and finally looked up to continue climbing. Only Zong Hang still wouldn’t move, though he knew going down wouldn’t help. He remained frozen in place, and even when Yi Yunqiao scolded him asking “Are you going to hang there forever,” he just stayed silent with reddened eyes.
Meanwhile, Yi Sa fired two more times, feeling the fuel tank on her back getting lighter and lighter, knowing her time was counting down by seconds. Seeing Zong Hang hanging there like a frozen gecko, she felt both heartache and bitterness, calling out loudly: “Zong Hang, listen to me. You all still have family waiting for you outside, I don’t anymore. I just want you to be safe, to get home soon…”
Two more tendrils of breathing soil swept toward her. Yi Sa couldn’t waste fuel, trying to save every bit she could. She dove into the water, twisting her body to avoid them from underwater.
Seeing her struggling so hard, Zong Hang’s vision blurred. He knew she would only be at ease if he moved, so he forced himself to continue climbing, though each step was difficult, feeling like sharp needles where his fingers gripped. In his ears, he heard the flames below growing weaker with each burst…
Just then, Ding Yudie called out: “What’s that?”
What’s that?
Zong Hang looked up and saw something being lowered down through the tunnel.
He couldn’t even recognize it was a rope at first, staring for several seconds before suddenly shouting in realization: “Yi Sa, there’s a rope! A rope! Come grab the rope!”
There was no response.
Yi Sa was staring at the flamethrower in her hand with a deathly pale face. This time, not even sparks came out, just air.
Those tendrils of breathing soil seemed to know she no longer posed a threat, regrouping from all directions, descending like a blanket from the sky. Yi Sa could almost see the sharp tips reflected in her eyes.
Her mind suddenly went blank.
Then, like a movie playing, many images flashed through her mind, along with familiar sensations that passed through her body like wind.
— Hearing an old cassette tape, a slightly hoarse female voice singing “Through a thousand bends and a thousand shoals, still this struggle remains unresolved…”
— Seeing dark red, tiny peanut skins floating beautifully in the night sky.
— Smelling the sweet, oily scent of lipstick.
— Seeing Zong Hang standing under the scaffolding, looking up with his swollen face, smiling desperately at her, waving goodbye endlessly.
She also heard Yi Yunqiao’s shout, infinitely amplified, as if floating from the horizon: “Don’t look, climb, keep climbing!”
…
Yi Sa opened her eyes.
Those tendrils were still there, the closest almost touching her eyelashes, but they were frozen in mid-air, as if time’s clock had suddenly stopped, everything halted in an instant.
The rope was still being lowered, and Zong Hang was screaming hysterically above: “Yi Sa, grab the rope, the rope’s almost reached the water!”
Only then did the deathly cold of approaching death spread throughout her body. Yi Sa couldn’t control her shaking, her body trembling like a sieve. She tentatively moved backward, the tendrils didn’t move. She moved back further, but they still didn’t move. Finally coming to her senses, she suddenly turned around and desperately splashed through the water, swimming toward the rope.
Halfway there, she suddenly stopped and looked back.
The tendrils were moving now, but not to attack – some seemed to want to attack while others were restraining them, fighting against each other, becoming increasingly tangled.
Like lightning suddenly flashing in her mind, Yi Sa’s whole body shook as she shouted: “Uncle Panling, is that you?”
There was no response.
She couldn’t see that on top of that vast, lifeless mountain of flesh, Ding Panling was already completely prostrate, immersed in the pool formed by the ancestral tablet. No one knew how long he had been soaking there.
His limbs were spread wide, silent, and still, only his head pressed firmly against the edge of the ancestral tablet, his face submerged in the dark brown liquid, still wearing a faint smile.