Jiang Lian said: “A person’s life, just a few short decades, big events or small events, it’s all one lifetime. If you never experience something momentous, wouldn’t that be… quite a waste?”

His casual attitude made it sound reasonable. Meng Qianzi sat up, leaning her back against the mountain wall, and replied: “You always know just what to say.”

She stared at the mountain gall, and after staring for a long time, fine beads of sweat began to seep from the tip of her nose.

What should she do with this thing?

Since childhood, she had possessed a carefree and fearless nature. She was never afraid to make decisions, would lift her eyelids and drop a line like “any problems are on me”; nor was she afraid to take responsibility, lifting her chin with abundant pride—

“They all follow my commands. If there’s a problem, come at me.”

In truth, back then, she was delicate with soft shoulders, unable to bear much responsibility at all, but her aunts liked this nature of hers: someone in a high position who shrank from matters, didn’t dare make decisions, and pushed blame onto subordinates would be utterly lacking in ambition.

But now, she had lost her direction.

Jiang Lian saw through her thoughts: “You have two choices.”

Isn’t that stating the obvious?

But she patiently listened to his obvious words.

“First, leave the mountain gall here. Although the mountain gall is close to Shen Gun, it has no legs and won’t follow him; ‘Eye Droplet’ and ‘Tongue Wanderer’ are already neutralized, and since this cliff is too dangerous, and no one else in the world can split the mountain to the ninth layer—keeping it here is still the safest option.”

“The downside is that, like dominoes being suddenly stopped midway, all the mysteries and puzzles would also end here.”

“What the mountain gall actually is, what functions it has, what events it might trigger—you would never know; you couldn’t help the water ghosts, because merely seeing the appearance of the mountain gall means nothing to them; and you wouldn’t know why Bai Shuixiao desperately tried to obstruct us all along—that woman’s lips are too tight, and unless she sees the coffin, she won’t utter a single word.”

At this point, he paused.

Meng Qianzi didn’t need time to digest; she had thought of all this herself. But hearing it from someone else’s mouth and having it fall back into her ears felt different.

She asked: “And the second?”

“The second is to take the mountain gall out, letting these dominoes fall completely and satisfyingly. Some things won’t move unless pushed. The mountain gall has been suspended here for thousands of years. Because of our arrival, some disturbances occurred and things have progressed: for instance, the mountain gall wasn’t being enshrined but rather seemed imprisoned; and it’s related to Shen Gun and the box, even to the dragon…”

“I believe if it’s taken out and truly fulfills the function of ‘mountain gall controlling water essence,’ it will change the direction of many things and even the fates of many people. But if it continues to lie rigid here, then it will just remain rigid.”

“The downside is uncertainty, complete uncertainty. But isn’t this entire world uncertain to begin with?”

That was all he had to say.

The two sat side by side, breathing lightly, both gazing at the mountain gall. It seemed as if no air moved in this stone chamber; even the stone filaments on the wall didn’t quiver once. But often the quietest places harbor the most magnificent power. Perhaps in the days to come, all turbulent waves will start from here.

After a long while, Meng Qianzi blurted out: “I’m hungry.”

Jiang Lian didn’t react immediately: “Huh?”

Meng Qianzi pressed her stomach and looked at him: “The energy bars are gone.”

Understanding now, Jiang Lian reached into his pocket and pulled out an energy bar.

Meng Qianzi had distributed “meals” twice, two energy bars each time. Each time, he habitually ate only half a bar, leaving exactly this one remaining, though he didn’t know when it had caught her eye.

Jiang Lian handed her the energy bar, feeling somewhat rueful, like someone who had carefully hidden some private savings only to have them seized by a cunning enemy before they’d even warmed in his pocket.

Meng Qianzi took it, tore open the wrapper—though her movements were gentle, the packaging was plastic after all, and in the silent stone chamber, the rustling sounds seemed to be everywhere, pouring directly into the ear canal.

She took a bite and couldn’t help but burst into laughter, covering her mouth with a “puff” sound, even spraying out some crumbs: “So you see, why bother hiding? Security comes from eating it yourself. Wouldn’t it have been better to just eat it yourself? By hiding it, you’ve only benefited someone else.”

Jiang Lian chided her: “Don’t choke.”

After a pause, he added: “If I hadn’t hidden it, wouldn’t you just be drinking northwest wind now?”

Afraid that the chewing sounds would be too loud, Meng Qianzi closed her mouth, slowly grinding with her tongue and teeth. But once the surroundings fell silent again, her attention inevitably returned to the mountain gall.

She said softly, “I understand the reasoning, but I’m afraid of making the wrong decision.”

Jiang Lian said, “How old are you anyway? If this decision stops you in your tracks, how can you hope to make more difficult decisions in the future? Besides, even if there’s a torrent, there’s a phrase called ‘turning the tide’—in my view, making decisions has no right or wrong.”

“It’s like choosing between attending university and working to supplement your family’s income. Does not attending university necessarily mean your future is ruined and hope is lost? Is the university the only school, and society not a school as well? Can’t you accumulate experience through work, seek opportunities, create a business, and still reach the pinnacle of life?”

“Decisions have no right or wrong. Isn’t the most terrifying thing making a decision and then withdrawing, letting things drift and flow as they may?”

When this man started talking philosophy, he was like Shen Gun lecturing on his scientific theories—full of coherent systems. Meng Qianzi glanced at him: “You’re quite good at dishing out chicken soup for the soul.”

Jiang Lian replied: “It’s one of my strengths.”

What else could he do? Those days of wandering homeless, starving until his chest pressed against his back, covered with scavenged newspapers, sleeping under bridges where cold wind whistled through—how else had he endured?

With no one to encourage him, he could only brew his chicken soup, firmly believing tomorrow would bring sugar and cakes, and that he would be the one to obtain them.

Meng Qianzi murmured: “This way, there will be so many things to deal with in the future…”

Jiang Lian smiled: “You’ve been living in wealth and leisure for too long. Everyone in this world has a pile of overwhelming affairs. Shen Gun is looking for the box, and I’m also looking for a box…”

Before he could finish, Shen Gun’s surprised voice interrupted: “Who? Who else is looking for a box? You? Little Lian Lian, you’re also looking for a box?”

It turned out that Shen Gun was just waking from his drowsy sleep when he heard someone say, “Shen Gun is looking for the box, and I’m also looking for a box.” In an instant, his sleepiness vanished, and he sat up almost with a spring, staring at Jiang Lian with his mouth wide open.

Jiang Lian was also surprised: “Haven’t I told you before?”

He remembered now. Shen Gun had asked him why he came to Xiangxi, but he had been cautious then, evading the question and dismissing Shen Gun with a few words—times had changed, now they were in this together, and after seeing so many of Shen Gun’s secrets, his own matters didn’t seem worth hiding anymore.

Moreover, facts had proven that having more people involved did indeed provide more avenues: Shen Gun knew a little bit about everything, not unlike a thoroughfare connecting in all directions.

He nodded: “That’s right, I’m also looking for a box. Before, I even suspected we might be looking for the same one, but now it seems they’re probably different.”

The one Shen Gun was looking for was too ancient, linked to the mountain gall and even the legendary dragon—that was beyond his reach. The Kuang family’s box was merely lost before Liberation, containing only a unique medical formula.

He tried to briefly explain Kuang Meiying’s situation.

Shen Gun listened attentively, secretly delighted, feeling that there was indeed a connection between them as fellow “box seekers.” As he listened with concentration, he suddenly glimpsed something, his heart jumping. Not daring to call out loudly, he grabbed Jiang Lian and lowered his voice: “Look, look!”

Jiang Lian turned his head to see Meng Qianzi lifting the mountain gall, wrapping it in clean bandages, and placing it in her small backpack.

Shen Gun was both shocked and delighted: “Is she going to…”

Although he had more or less guessed it beforehand, seeing it with his own eyes, Jiang Lian still felt as though he was witnessing something momentous, a different sensation washing over his entire body, his heart unable to stop trembling.

But he didn’t want to appear as flustered as Shen Gun, so he simply said: “Stay calm.”

…

The opening at the throat of the cave was higher, so Jiang Lian first helped Shen Gun climb up, then came back to assist Meng Qianzi. While helping her up the rock face, he asked: “Have you made your decision? Not afraid anymore?”

Meng Qianzi said, “I am afraid.”

Then she smiled: “But it’s also exciting. Before, it felt like I could see my life to the end. Now it’s different.”

Now she couldn’t see it anymore—unknown and unpredictable, needing to measure each step with her feet, only knowing what lay ahead by walking forward.

Jiang Lian said, “You’ll be fine.”

He wasn’t entirely convinced—no one can use certainty to wager on the unknown—but he sincerely wished it.

Meng Qianzi answered more freely.

She said: “Whether things go well or not, who knows? Anyway, good or bad, long life or short, it’s all one lifetime. Whatever happens, happens.”

With that, she nimbly climbed up without Jiang Lian’s help. For her, this bit of rock face wasn’t difficult at all.

It was Jiang Lian who stood with his outstretched hand, frozen for a moment.

Bai Shuixiao was confined in a tent.

The tent was pitched in a corner, some distance from the main camp. Fearing she might try something while alone, there were never fewer than three people inside the tent, with four or five more outside—such defenses were virtually impregnable; there was no way she could escape.

Bai Shuixiao had also abandoned thoughts of escape, just sitting there dumbly, sometimes looking down at her stomach and shaking uncontrollably, other times smiling tenderly, as if fearless and ready to die with no regrets.

…

From outside came Qiu Dong’s voice: “Xin Sir, aren’t you walking in the wrong direction?”

Bai Shuixiao froze for a moment, swallowing emptily, and although she knew she couldn’t see, she still stared fixedly in the direction of the tent entrance.

Xin Ci—she remembered this person from Meng Qianzi’s banquet, from the guest room on Yunmeng Peak that had been converted into a medical room, and just now, when she was forced to vomit.

Then she heard Xin Ci say: “I’m not walking. I brought some medicine. Have someone help Miss Bai clean up, look at those wounds on her face.”

Qiu Dong scornfully said, “Is that necessary?”

But Xin Ci answered seriously: “Even if she’s to be executed tomorrow, today she should eat a full meal. Are you going to keep her locked up and watch her wounds fester?”

Qiu Dong could be heard laughing contemptuously, seemingly unwilling to help, just saying irritably: “Go in and do it yourself, there are people inside.”

The tent flap moved gently, and Xin Ci entered.

Probably not expecting so many people inside, he was momentarily at a loss. After a while, he awkwardly handed the medicine bottle to one of them, but the man didn’t take it: “This woman killed our brothers, and I’m supposed to treat her wounds?”

Someone else made a cold remark: “Little Brother Xin, you makeup artists, are you especially nice to women? Can’t stand to see someone cry? You didn’t see how vicious she was when killing people.”

Xin Ci explained: “It’s not like that. This is separate from that. Yes, she killed people, but we can’t be like her…”

Before he could finish, the third person who hadn’t spoken spat on the ground near Xin Ci’s pants.

Xin Ci’s face reddened: “Hey, you…”

All three ignored him, erupting in a burst of laughter. Bai Shuixiao’s lips moved as if wanting to say something, but nothing came out.

Xin Ci was also angry now. He crouched down, soaked a cotton ball with alcohol, and tried to give it to Bai Shuixiao. Seeing she was tied up, he hesitated, then tentatively tried to help clean her wounds himself.

Her cheek was slightly cool, then came stinging pain cutting into the wound. Bai Shuixiao endured it without flinching.

The man who had spat said, “Makeup Artist Xin, this woman can control insects. Be careful, she doesn’t put one on you.”

Xin Ci shrank back, moving away slightly.

Bai Shuixiao gave a miserable smile and said softly, “I have no insects. Don’t worry.”

Xin Ci didn’t dare look into her eyes, mumbling: “Miss Bai, a life for a life, no one can help you with this… I think you should confess honestly. Whatever it is, you should tell the Fifth Aunt.”

Bai Shuixiao murmured: “I have nothing to confess.”

Xin Ci looked up at her: “Were you controlled by that cave spirit? You had no grudge against the Mountain Ghosts, so if you did something wrong, it must have been against your will, under his coercion. Miss Bai, just explain everything clearly to the Fifth Aunt. There’s a distinction between principal offenders and accomplices. You can’t be confused about this, being sold out and still counting money for others, taking the blame for them…”

Bai Shuixiao suddenly became agitated, throwing her head back and shouting: “No, it’s not! I was willing! I was willing!”

Xin Ci was caught off guard, almost dropping the medicine bottle.

Bai Shuixiao’s eyes were bloodshot, staring intently at him with an expression like she wanted to bite chunks of flesh from his body to vent her anger: “I did nothing wrong! It was you who came to harm us! I was desperately protecting the person I love—is that wrong? Huh? If you come to kill me, of course I’ll kill you—it’s perfectly justified! Perfectly justified!”

She no longer resembled the transcendent and spirited person from their first meeting. Her mind seemed somewhat confused as she glared with eyes that appeared almost bulging. With her face bloodied and torn, looking like she might lunge forward at any moment, Xin Ci, who had never experienced such situations, weakened in his legs and fell, sitting on the ground. The two men beside him half-supported, half-dragged him out.

As he left the tent, he could still hear Bai Shuixiao’s neurotic questioning: “What did I do wrong? Huh? Perfectly justified! Perfectly justified!”

…

Xin Ci sat on the ground for a long while before recovering. He finally stood up and slowly walked back. As he walked, he remembered Bai Shuixiao’s face and felt another wave of heart palpitations, clutching his chest and gasping.

Someone coughed nearby—it was Meng Jinsong.

Xin Ci deliberately clutched his chest even tighter and closed his eyes, appearing half-dead: “Old Meng, I can’t do this anymore. Tell the Fifth Aunt to find someone else. This kind of undercover work, I can’t handle it.”

Meng Jinsong said, “Weren’t you quite fond of her?”

Xin Ci replied bitterly: “Wasn’t I just starting to like her when she killed someone? Huh? I’m a law-abiding citizen. Besides, now you tell me she has gu worms and strange creatures on her—how can I not be afraid? I was crouching there with my calves trembling, terrified that creature would crawl onto me.”

Meng Jinsong comforted him: “It won’t. If that thing could just crawl onto anyone, it would have done so already. It wouldn’t wait for you.”

He added, “The Fifth Aunt praised your performance. Bai Shuixiao is very suspicious. If someone suddenly became nice to her, she would be doubtful. You handled the balance just right, maintaining your position while showing appropriate sympathy. For your first attempt, it was quite fruitful.”

Xin Ci was puzzled: “I had results?”

The shock had made him forget most of their conversation.

Meng Jinsong crouched beside him, offering a cigarette. Xin Ci waved it away, finding even holding a cigarette too troublesome at the moment.

Meng Jinsong said, “Didn’t you hear that Bai Shuixiao considers herself the victim? She believes she was only defending herself. The cause was that we came to harm them, that we made the first move, not her.”

Wait, wait, Xin Ci had some recollection now: “She also said she was protecting the person she loves. Damn, who does she love? The cave spirit? Where is he?”

Meng Jinsong gestured towards his stomach: “Possibly in there, not yet vomited out.”

He patted Xin Ci’s shoulder: “Qianzi was probably targeted by her as soon as she arrived in Xiangxi. She must have investigated the Mountain Ghosts and knows you’re the only outsider, so her guard against you isn’t as strong. Plus, now you’ve made a good start—keep it up, you might get something more out of her. I’ve spoken with Qiu Dong and the others; they’ll cooperate with you more actively.”

Cooperate my ass, Xin Ci suddenly remembered something and shakily reached for his pant leg, wanting to tell Meng Jinsong how disgusting these people were, actually spitting on his pants.

But when he looked up, Meng Jinsong was already far away.

Great, really great.

Xin Ci let go of his pant leg.

Just wait. When Qianzi returns, just you wait!

The return journey from the stone peak to the cliff bottom wasn’t smoother just because they had traveled it once before: it was still time-consuming and exhausting, compounded by the lack of water and food, making their progress even slower.

By the time they reached the cliff bottom, calculating the time, it was already evening.

Shen Gun had sharp eyes and from quite a distance spotted something leaping and darting at the cliff bottom: “Hey, what’s that?”

Before his words faded, they saw that thing jubilantly bounding toward them.

It was the little white monkey that had gone up to report.

Its appearance was even more comical than before, with a small bag slung over its shoulder. When the little white monkey moved, the bag slapped against its body, making patting sounds—judging by the bulges, it probably contained a small bottle of water and several energy bars. It seemed those above had anticipated that supplies below were running low.

The little white monkey approached but didn’t leap onto Meng Qianzi. It suddenly stopped, then turned around, very proudly straightening its back for her to see.

Shen Gun remembered that previously, its back had the character for “person” written on it.

Looking closely, the “person” character was still there, but with an additional horizontal stroke, turning it into the character for “big.”

Shen Gun didn’t understand the significance and asked curiously: “Big? Big what?”

Jiang Lian remained silent, quietly counting—”big” meant number five with a bit more.

Sure enough, Meng Qianzi said, “It means my Fifth Aunt has arrived.”

After waiting a while longer, there came a whistling sound from high above. Looking up, they saw three sturdy, long ropes rapidly descending, dropping straight down like nimble snakes.