There was a problem with the route map drawn by Jiang Lian.
It wasn’t like a typical map showing a web of routes with north and south directions. Instead, it resembled a mountain guide created by a mountain spirit—the entire route map was essentially a landscape painting, showing vividly detailed mountain peaks, ridges, and formations.
In other words, you had to rather foolishly hold up the map and compare the shapes and arrangements of the surrounding mountains to verify they matched the illustrations. Only after confirming the shapes could you determine the specific location based on size—no wonder the Yama riding on the yak constantly held the map up while looking around.
Fortunately, there was a lake at the bottom of the map, which greatly narrowed the search range. Although the Kunlun Mountains had more than one highland lake, having this feature was better than conducting a carpet search across more than 500,000 square kilometers of mountainous terrain. Moreover, Xian Qionghua intuited that the drawing depicted the area around their camp—there was a lake nearby, it was where Shi Xiaohai’s incident occurred, and where the mountain mirage appeared. If there wasn’t something suspicious about this place, it would be a waste of too many coincidences.
She complained that the map showed little effort: “From ancient times until now, there have been countless earthquakes in these mountains, plus avalanches, sedimentation, and landslides. The mountain formations may have changed. Relying solely on mountain shapes for identification is neither safe nor accurate, with a high probability of error.”
Jing Rusi felt she was being too picky: “Kuang family’s ancestor was just a craftsman—how could he consider so many factors? Besides, since Yama found what he was looking for based on this map, it proves that no such errors occurred.”
As she spoke, she lowered the tent flap and looked at the heavy darkness outside. “It’s too late now to see clearly. When it’s light tomorrow, we can determine the location. Hopefully, our luck will be good, and we can quickly find Lady Duan’s body and the other missing people.”
In truth, Jing Rusi believed that if the path ahead was truly dangerous, they could forgo finding Duan Wenxi’s body. She trusted Lady Duan would understand—after all, they couldn’t sacrifice living people for someone who died decades ago.
However, with the mountain dwellers’ eight-person team returning with only one mentally impaired Shi Xiaohai, such a major incident demanded investigation and explanation—it would be too cowardly for the distinguished Mountain Ghost family not to investigate the deaths of their people.
With dawn still far off, they couldn’t just wait idly. Everyone returned to their tents to catch some sleep.
As Jiang Lian was leaving, he hesitated, then turned back to Meng Qianzi and asked in a low voice: “Are you alright?”
Meng Qianzi smiled and said, “I’m fine.”
After saying this, she looked a bit lost: “After initially watching the Water Ghost’s video, I didn’t feel much emotion. I just thought they were unfortunate and that the Water Ghost was useless, having to ask others for help with their matters. But after interacting with them, things changed.”
After interacting with them, they were no longer just two-dimensional. They had flesh and blood, joy and anger, smiling faces, hopeful requests, and anxious waiting.
She didn’t want to be the one bringing bad news.
Jiang Lian made a sound of acknowledgment: “I understand.”
Meng Qianzi thought for a moment: “Do you think, if that Qilin crystal were intact, things… would be different?”
Though she knew such hypotheticals were meaningless, she couldn’t help wondering.
Jiang Lian said, “The Yellow Emperor’s clan wasn’t stupid. Whatever methods the Chiyou tribe could think of, wouldn’t they have considered them too? If they ultimately didn’t pursue those methods, there must have been a reason. If those grape-like clusters in the Drift Cave were indeed Qilin crystals—when a Qilin takes two thousand years to produce just one crystal, while the nurturing soil produced hundreds or thousands—could the two be the same when placed side by side?”
…
Could they be the same?
This question lingered in Meng Qianzi’s mind, and indeed, thoughts led to dreams.
She had a dream.
She dreamed of Zong Hang’s girlfriend Yi Sa, the girl who had appeared in the Water Ghost’s video—quiet and thin, with short hair cut evenly to her jaw, but with a stubbornness showing in her features.
In the dream, Meng Qianzi was holding a large bunch of grapes, having never actually seen those grape-like clusters in the Drift Cave, only hearing they resembled bunches of grapes, so when reflected in her dream, they became a large cluster of grapes.
She kept plucking grapes from the stem and stuffing them into Yi Sa’s hands, one after another, speaking quickly and urgently: “Eat, eat more, maybe eating a few more will let you live a few more years.”
Yi Sa’s hands were full of grapes. She looked down at them for a while without eating, then looked up and asked: “What if eating more makes the disease progress faster?”
Meng Qianzi was stumped by the question and couldn’t answer.
She just stood there in a daze. Later, Yi Sa disappeared, as did the bunch of grapes. Meng Qianzi stood alone at a mountain pass in the Kunlun Mountains. The sky was gloomy, the wind howled like a whistle, and tufts of grayish-white snow particles swirled in midair.
It was so cold. In the dream, she crouched down, curled into a ball, wrapped her down jacket tightly around herself, then wrapped it tighter still.
…
Jing Rusi was awakened by movement beside her. When she illuminated the area with her phone, she saw Meng Qianzi clutching the opening of her sleeping bag tightly, curled up inside it.
Look how cold the child is.
Jing Rusi sighed, pulled her own discarded down jacket over, and placed it on top of Meng Qianzi.
They wouldn’t break camp the next day.
Normally, Meng Qianzi would sleep until afternoon, but with matters weighing on her mind, it was difficult to sleep soundly. Additionally, early in the morning, there were many rustling sounds outside, and she woke up at a normal hour.
No one was in the tent. Her sleeping bag had two additional layers on top, probably added by Fourth Mother and Seventh Mother.
Meng Qianzi lay there for a while, hearing Shi Xiaohai shouting outside: “There! There! Fell, boom!”
He Shengzhi suppressed his voice to scold him: “Lower your voice! Miss Meng is still sleeping!”
This exchange reminded Meng Qianzi that today would inevitably be busy: they needed to send people to explore where Shi Xiaohai was attacked and fell from the cliff, and also needed to find Yama and Old Lady Duan’s destination based on the route map Jiang Lian had drawn last night.
She quickly got dressed and first peeked outside by pulling open the tent flap. A gust of cold wind rushed in, instantly making her alert.
The weather today was poor, just like in her dream—gloomy and hazy. The portable tear-open mouthwash and face wipes were almost frozen solid. Meng Qianzi didn’t want to call anyone to help, so she simply tucked them into her bosom to warm them.
Looking outside, she saw Fourth Mother, Seventh Mother, and others standing at the edge of the valley, some holding drawing paper, some tablets, others phones, comparing against different directions.
Meng Qianzi’s heart skipped a beat: with just one painting, it should be obvious at a glance whether it matched or not, shouldn’t it? With so many people looking together for so long without confirmation, it was likely because what was depicted in the painting wasn’t this place at all.
As she was thinking this, she suddenly saw Shen Gun passing by not far away, ostentatiously with his hands behind his back, looking like a leader inspecting the grassroots.
Meng Qianzi frowned, wondering why he was suddenly putting on airs, then looked more carefully and felt her heart tighten. She shouted: “Shen Gun!”
Shen Gun turned at her voice, then quickened his steps: “Yes?”
Meng Qianzi was shocked and angry, pointing behind him: “Who tied you up?”
No wonder Shen Gun was walking with such a peculiar posture—his hands were tied behind his back.
Shen Gun cheerfully replied: “I did it myself! I requested it!”
Before Meng Qianzi could ask further, he was already explaining enthusiastically: “Given that I’ve already said very strange things twice in a row, I feel that I’m too unpredictable. If this continues, might I become even more out of control? That won’t do. Taking responsibility for myself and others, I voluntarily requested to be restrained. This is called prevention.”
That was the situation.
Meng Qianzi was silent for a moment. She also felt this was more prudent. She could trust Shen Gun, but what if this Shen Gun was no longer pure and had been mixed with something else?
She looked at Shen Gun: “You used to dream, and now you say strange things. What do you think… is happening to you? Is it like Yama, with a second person inside your body?”
Shen Gun rolled his eyes at her: “Miss Meng, I’m over fifty years old, having lived most of my life, only to discover there’s a second person inside my body? I’d have to be extremely obtuse! Besides, I never ate any Qilin crystal. When Yama found the Qilin crystal, I was still begging for food from door to door.”
“I think it’s a kind of subconscious, gradually activated as I became involved in this whole affair. At first, hearing the words ‘mountain gall’ from the Xian family girl at the telecom service center was like a switch, clicking open to start the show.”
“Afterward, with each new development, I would recall something, presented in the form of dreams. Later, as I experienced more, this subconscious began transforming into conscious awareness, suddenly emerging in speech. Perhaps, after some more time, those memories will become completely part of my consciousness and memory, and I’ll be able to explain the whole cause and effect to you all.”
Meng Qianzi made a sound of acknowledgment, hesitated, then lowered her voice: “Shen Gun, could you be… Chiyou’s inside man?”
She clarified: “I don’t mean to disparage you. He is he, and you are you. Let’s be factual and rational.”
“Those dreams you had, those things you said, give the impression that you were at the sealing site, secretly meeting with a mysterious person, that you stole the Phoenix Feather and Dragon Bone Ash for them, and indicated you would continue looking for the Dragon Bone. You betrayed them, were discovered and disemboweled, and you even knew about the Chiyou team digging up the dead Qilin.”
Shen Gun tried to push up his glasses but couldn’t as his hands were tied. His nose bridge was sweating, and his stylish frames teetered precariously.
He stammered: “This… is possible, but when we look at issues, we must… must consider multiple scenarios. We can’t be blinded by one leaf. You see how many reversals there are in today’s news? Perhaps… perhaps…”
He desperately tried to come up with an alternative “perhaps,” but the more anxious he became, the less able he was. Now, not just his nose bridge but also his forehead and temples were sweating.
Meng Qianzi thoughtfully helped push his glasses up: “As I said, even if you were, I wouldn’t discriminate against you. It’s been thousands of years—who would be bored enough to dig up such old accounts? Where’s Jiang Lian?”
The topic finally shifted away from the “inside man” issue, and Shen Gun secretly breathed a sigh of relief: “Sleeping. He was exhausted from applying the divine eye at midnight. When he went back last night, he fell asleep with his clothes half removed… Do you need him for something?”
Meng Qianzi made a sound of acknowledgment. If her legs were in better condition, she would likely have gone to bother him, but now with her injured leg, she couldn’t crawl over.
Just as she was about to make an excuse, she heard Jing Rusi calling her. Looking over, she saw Jing Rusi pinching the drawing paper in her hand, coming over breathlessly. Before even reaching her, Jing Rusi complained: “This is terrible. It’s not this place. I’ve looked all over, and none of this matches our location.”
Meng Qianzi was startled.
She agreed with Xian Qionghua’s view that this campsite, with its lake, being where Shi Xiaohai’s incident occurred, and having appeared twice in the mountain mirage, couldn’t merely be coincidental.
She thought for a moment: “Could it be changes in the terrain? After thousands of years of various geological processes, it couldn’t possibly remain the same as before.”
Jing Rusi glared at her: “Your Fourth Mother may be old, but she’s not stupid. Would I not have considered this? Yes, geological processes could have occurred, or avalanches or landslides might have sheared off part of a mountain peak, but the general outline shouldn’t change. But the current situation is that its outline doesn’t match at all! Completely different!”