If not for Ding Panling’s three and a half characters left behind, given the secretive nature of the water ghosts, they would likely never have stepped through the mountain ghosts’ door.

The visitors were an old woman and a young man. The elderly one was nearly eighty years old, named Jiang Taiyue. She brought along a man in his twenties with delicate, handsome features and a fashionable hairstyle—his temples shaved to a thin circle of bluish stubble, a small ponytail at the back of his head with a butterfly hairpin. His name was also related to butterflies: Ding Yudie.

Reportedly, Ding Yudie was the successor and heir to Ding Panling, the previous leader.

The scene from that meeting, thinking back now, still seemed bizarre.

Meng Qianzi said, “At that time, Jinsong accompanied me to the reception room. Considering it was a meeting between important figures from both sides, we asked others to leave.”

As soon as they entered, Jiang Taiyue and Ding Yudie both stood up, exchanged only rigid pleasantries, then quickly lowered their heads, busying themselves with unwrapping gift boxes on the table: “Miss Meng, this is our first visit, so we brought gifts. Please see if you like them.”

The gift boxes were opened, and items were displayed one by one—merely some dried fish specialties. Meng Qianzi felt somewhat uncomfortable. She didn’t care what the gifts were, but at a first meeting, giving her these inexpensive items—were they looking down on her, or truly ignorant of social etiquette?

Jiang Taiyue pointed out each specialty: “This is whitebait, perfect for scrambled eggs; these are golden hook shrimps, top quality, much better than those on the market; and this is dried scallop, with a very special taste…”

She went on endlessly. Just as Meng Qianzi was growing impatient, Meng Jinsong suddenly tugged at her gently, signaling her to look at Ding Yudie.

Looking over, she saw that Ding Yudie, while helping Jiang Taiyue unpack, had freed one hand and was writing something on a piece of paper.

While writing, his eyes didn’t look at the paper but remained fixed on the gift box.

After finishing, he turned the paper toward her.

The line read: No choice, someone watching/listening.

She understood—someone was monitoring them, so they had to make small talk while writing the real message. But if they were being “watched,” wouldn’t these subtle actions be completely exposed?

Meng Qianzi and Meng Jinsong exchanged glances, both somewhat dismissive. No matter what trouble the water ghosts had encountered or what formidable figures were tracking them, this was Shangui Chamber—even with extraordinary abilities, no one could tamper with this place.

Before they could speak, Ding Yudie’s second line was ready and turned toward them.

—They’re not human, they’re inside our bodies.

…

Shen Gun swallowed twice, goosebumps rising on his arms. After Meng Qianzi’s previous explanations, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the water ghosts’ plight: “Inside their bodies, so they’re being monitored through their ‘eyes’? No wonder they never looked at you and only spoke about trivial matters. Inside their bodies… did something parasitic take over?”

Meng Qianzi pondered for a moment: “They seemed to believe that the strange thing from the Drifting Cave could see and hear everything through their eyes and ears.”

So they had no choice but to behave strangely to conceal their true purpose.

The last thing Ding Yudie wrote was an address, plus two characters.

Secret.

The address wasn’t in their city, but that didn’t matter—mountain dwellers were scattered everywhere. Meng Jinsong sent a mountain dweller to an office in an old building. Everything was neatly arranged, with several drawers in the desk. Only one was locked. The mountain dweller picked the lock and found a USB drive inside with a label reading “Secret.”

The USB drive was quickly delivered to Meng Qianzi. After connecting it to a computer, it showed that it contained a video.

The video featured several key participants, each recounting the water ghosts’ experiences and failures during their two expeditions to the Drifting Cave over the past twenty-some years. Most of what Meng Qianzi had just shared came from this video.

Finally, Jiang Taiyue gave the concluding remarks.

Looking into the camera, she spoke calmly: “We’re recording these events this way as documentation, hoping that someday, there will be a chance to decode the mystery.”

From behind that seemingly calm gaze, Meng Qianzi could see the water ghosts’ plea for help.

…

Jiang Lian said softly, “That video was made for the mountain ghosts to see, right? They deliberately called it ‘documentation,’ locked it in a place, intentionally left it unguarded, deliberately locked only one drawer—all those complications just to guide you to find it.”

Meng Qianzi nodded.

To be honest, she quite sympathized with their situation. Although they had no prior relationship, she was willing to help a little. After all, mountain ghosts liked making friends and often helped their friends.

But the problem was that she didn’t know how to help, and even more puzzling was why Ding Panling wanted the water ghosts to find them.

She asked Gao Jinghong, but the grand matriarch was also puzzled, though she offered a suggestion: “Darling Zi, you should know that whenever there’s a saying like ‘mountain and water never meet,’ it precisely indicates that, long ago, mountain and water did meet. Perhaps something unpleasant happened between them, causing them to drift apart. Maybe you should check the family genealogy, mountain records, or the ‘Mountain Ghost Chronicles.'”

Indeed, the water ghosts mentioned in the video that when they first tried to uncover the secrets of the ancestral tablets, their first step was also to search through family records, hoping to find clues from ancestors’ writings, between the lines.

This search took a full two months. Unlike the water ghosts, mountain ghosts made many friends and often absorbed new people, making their records impressively voluminous. Finding the words “water ghost” among such vast texts was no easy task.

Meng Jinsong led this extensive search, using a reverse chronological approach, starting from the Republican era, then the Qing, Ming, Yuan, and Song dynasties. Meng Qianzi remembered that after finishing the Tang dynasty section, Meng Jinsong had sighed defeatedly: “I suppose there’s no hope.”

Meng Qianzi thought the same, but she was good at reframing the situation: “Let’s keep looking. This way, during the year-end summary, we can say I organized a thorough review of the mountain ghosts’ ancestral history.”

Thanks to this persistence, they finally had a breakthrough with the “Mountain Ghost Chronicles.”

“Mountain Ghost Chronicles” was a record documenting notable figures throughout the generations. A volume from the Southern and Northern Dynasties period contained such an account.

It was a small matter, a palm-sized Volume Four: Mountain Gallbladder – Chapter written in the classical literary style of the time, striving for brevity, thus quite convoluted.

The gist was that Ban Suchan, who held the throne at that time, was traveling around Lake Dongting. Walking into a restaurant to eat, she overheard a group at the next table engaged in an animated discussion. After listening for a while, Ban Suchan determined they were water ghosts, so she revealed her identity and graciously went to greet them.

Unexpectedly, the group’s facial expressions changed immediately. They looked at each other, left several large coins on the table, and departed without a word.

This was quite impolite, but Ban Suchan didn’t mind and dismissed it with a smile.

That night, returning to the inn, as soon as she entered her room, she found a large gift on the table with a note beside it that read: “I possess the water essence, you hold the mountain gall. Mountain gall subdues water essence. Mountain and water never meet.”

From the tone of this note, Ban Suchan realized the sender must be the leader of the water ghosts. Because “mountain and water never meet,” the two sides had no contact, and a meeting between leaders was especially rare. So even though this was a small incident, it warranted a record in the “Mountain Ghost Chronicles.”

…

Shen Gun pondered: “So the water ghosts’ ancestral tablets are… water essence? The origin of ‘mountain and water never meet’ isn’t because your two families had some grudge, but because ‘mountain gall subdues water essence’—your item can counter theirs?”

Meng Qianzi had the same thought: “I asked the water ghosts’ side. They don’t know what ‘water essence’ is, and there are no special items or collections in their family. So this water essence is very likely referring to the ancestral tablets. Thinking carefully, all the incidents the water ghost family has experienced over the past hundred years or so are related to the ancestral tablets.”

Shen Gun suddenly realized: “So you came to Western Hunan, to this Suspended Gall Peak Forest, to dissect the mountain for its gall—ultimately, it was for the water ghosts?”

Having her head on the rope for too long was somewhat uncomfortable. Meng Qianzi sat up, grabbed her backpack, and stuffed it under her head as a pillow: “It’s not exactly ‘extracting the gall.’ My seven aunts above me have been hesitant about this matter all along. First, no one knows exactly what the mountain gall is. Second, the mountain hall has been suspended for thousands of years. My aunts neither wanted nor dared to disturb it rashly, feeling that moving it would bring misfortune.”

“My Great-grandmother Duan did come here, but her records at that time described the hardships of the journey in great detail. About the mountain gall, however, she wrote very little, only saying ‘a stupid stone, nothing more.’ My Great-grandmother Duan was a person who followed her heart—if she liked something, she wouldn’t spare any ink even for trivial matters; if she didn’t like it, she would dismiss even important things in a single stroke.”

Shen Gun couldn’t help but grin foolishly, feeling that Duan Wenxi’s approach truly resonated with him: life should be focused on things one enjoys, like traveling thousands of miles for “scientific research” or suddenly deciding to drink to each other from afar.

To come specifically to explore the mountain gall, yet dismiss it in eight words—truly unique.

But this uniqueness forced Meng Qianzi to make this journey.

“So the final decision was to have me come here first to see what’s going on. Looking probably wouldn’t hurt.”

She laughed self-mockingly at this point: “I just didn’t expect that as soon as I arrived in Western Hunan, I’d encounter setbacks, with Bai Shuixiao appearing out of nowhere. Initially, I couldn’t figure out what she wanted, but the more time passed, the more certain I became that it had something to do with the mountain gall.”

She turned to look at Jiang Lian: “I think from the moment the mountain ghosts sent out invitations, she must have been watching from the sidelines. That night, when I went to fish for mirages, she was probably secretly following.”

Jiang Lian thought suddenly: “Did she see us having our confrontation?”

Meng Qianzi nodded: “She was at the banquet the next day. Old Ga was asking about the map design at the banquet before we called him away to question him. Then we followed Old Ga when he left—she must have seen all this.”

“She followed us the whole way, entered Old Ga’s home ahead of us, killed Liu Sheng, and took the golden bell—probably trying to create chaos and delay, shifting our focus to the murder and suspicion of you, temporarily setting aside the mountain gall issue. In other words, from the beginning, she was trying to prevent my contact with the mountain gall in every way.”

“Later, by coincidence, you saved her and sent her to Yunmeng Peak. She went along with it, wanting to create an even bigger incident. That night, she went straight to the third floor, probably intending to either kill me or kidnap me.”

Jiang Lian continued her thought: “Actually, even if she had reached the third floor, killing or kidnapping you would have been difficult. After all, her incense had little effect on you. But because of what happened with Meiying, plus my… appropriate performance, you were kidnapped.”

He still dared to mention that incident. Meng Qianzi snorted, but since he had made up for it later, she decided not to quibble.

“Successfully kidnapping me exceeded her expectations, and she began to think more thoroughly. You know, I’m not the only one in the mountain ghosts who can retrieve the mountain gall. If she killed me, there would be second and third successors. She would be exhausted dealing with them all. So she first planted the gu worm in me, then burned incense to try controlling me, making me obedient.”

Jiang Lian interjected: “And I performed again.”

Meng Qianzi felt both angry and amused: “Yes, she didn’t expect that I would escape, and with such momentum, heading straight for the Suspended Gall Peak Forest. She panicked and couldn’t think about long-term plans anymore—she just wanted to resolve the immediate threat.”

That’s why there was the full-scale emergence from Breaking People Ridge that night, and moments ago, tens of thousands of black bats were being consumed by fire.

Shen Gun suddenly remembered something: “Wait, mountain gall subdues water essence, not her—why is she so eager to interfere…”

Towards the end, he muttered: “She’s backed by the Cave God. Does that mean the Cave God also fears the mountain gall? But that cave happens to be right above the Suspended Gall Peak Forest. This position is like… It’s guarding and monitoring…”

Whatever—these matters could be discussed later. For now, Meng Qianzi had no energy to consider so much. Anyway, Bai Shuixiao couldn’t come down, and the closer they got to the mountain gall, the safer they would be.

Jiang Lian looked ahead to where the distant, towering silhouettes of the peak forest were faintly visible.

He said softly, “Suspended Gall Peak Forest—does that mean the gall is suspended in the mountain?”

Knowing he couldn’t possibly guess, Meng Qianzi deliberately didn’t tell him: “Get some sleep. I need to conserve my energy. When we see the gall later, it will take great effort. Then you’ll witness my true abilities.”

Jiang Lian paused for a second or two before speaking: “So only then will we witness your true abilities? Does that mean what we’ve seen so far doesn’t qualify as ability?”

He turned his head to look at Meng Qianzi.

To drive away insects, the headlamp wasn’t completely off, just dimmed to its lowest setting. In this faint light, Jiang Lian saw that she had already closed her eyes. Her long, slightly curled eyelashes seemed as if they had just been stirred from the light, with tiny gleams still clinging to their tips. The corners of her lips turned up slightly, forming a beautiful arc as she answered: “That’s right.”

“That’s right,” she wasn’t reserved at all. That pride of hers, if not contained, would overflow.

Jiang Lian also closed his eyes, still thinking of her smile from a moment ago. Without even realizing it, that smile had found its way onto his face.

Perhaps because of everything he had experienced and heard that day, Jiang Lian began dreaming soon after falling asleep.

One dream followed another.

First, he dreamed of a massive cave deep underground, constantly churning and moving. Then he dreamed of a deserted camp with a corpse, a dagger piercing its throat, blood continuously sliding down the blade…

He also dreamed of fire, countless fire bats swarming together, transforming into a sky full of fire clouds.

But suddenly, all of this vanished.

All that remained was a night so thick it couldn’t dissolve, mountains, a winding mountain path that seemed endless, and the sound of footsteps pattering on the trail; huffing and puffing, the sound of someone running so hard they could barely catch their breath.

Gradually, he saw clearly—it was himself running.

He was very young, even younger than when Kuang Tongsheng had found him, only about five or six years old, wearing a tattered cotton jacket and old cotton shoes. The cloth sole of his right shoe had already come half off, and with each step, the sole flapped up and down, like a stubborn half-tongue stuck to the bottom of his foot. In his arms, he tightly clutched a small but full cloth bag.

As he rounded a sharp turn, he tripped and fell. The cloth bag dropped and spilled half its contents—round white steamed buns and colorful fruit candies wrapped in plastic.

He quickly got up, not caring about the mud all over him, bent over with his bottom in the air, and hurriedly picked everything up, stuffing it back into the cloth bag before hugging it close and continuing to run.

The sound of wind, moving shadows of trees, gathering clouds, and the fine sounds of insects—all gradually merged into a woman’s voice.

This voice was overwhelming, chaotic, penetrating, drilling into his ears and shaking his head.

—A’zai, run quickly.

—Remember, your name is Jiang Lian.

—Keep running, don’t look back, never look back in this lifetime.

As he passed another sharp turn, for some unknown reason, his steps hesitated and stopped.

Then, he turned to look back.

At the limit of his vision, deep in the mountain hollow, there was a leaping, raging fire. The wind tore the flames into long strips, scattering them in all directions, especially beautifully.

He watched for a while, then turned back, clutched the cloth bag tightly, and began running wildly again.

…

“Jiang Lian?”

Jiang Lian opened his eyes.

Everything was quiet. Shen Gun was still sleeping; his slightly heavy breathing could be heard.

Meng Qianzi was half-leaning on his rope bed, looking down at him: “Were you having a nightmare?”

Yes, he was. Jiang Lian sat up wearily, one hand supporting himself on the branch, the other instinctively touching his forehead. His thumb suddenly felt wet at the corner of his eye.

He smiled: “Yes, I had a nightmare. It was all because of the fire Bai Shuixiao set. In my dream, I was being chased by a great fire, and the smoke made me… even tear up.”

As he spoke, he casually wiped the corner of his eye.

Meng Qianzi also smiled, not asking further.

Just now, when Jiang Lian was trapped in his dream and hadn’t yet awakened, she faintly heard his low murmuring.

It sounded like he was calling…

Mother.