In the sky, there was a thin crescent moon, with clouds slowly drifting before and after it.

Several exploration lamps and flashlight beams weakly penetrated the darkness, with tiny floating dust particles dancing up and down in the light columns.

There was the sound of wind blowing through leaves and the dripping of water from somewhere unknown, but no human voices. Nearly twenty people stood or sat in place, their breathing subdued, even the act of swallowing saliva was lightened. The walkie-talkie had also gone silent, with only the hissing of electric current remaining—though if one listened carefully enough, suppressed breathing could still be heard from deep within the microphone.

The strange scraping sound from beneath the bronze cover had also disappeared. It felt as if whatever was below had been disturbed by the scraping, shoveling, stomping, and treading above, and when things quieted above, it had retreated again.

After a while, the people at the bottom of the pit finally moved, but only moved—they exchanged glances, contorting their facial muscles to convey information, like in a mime performance. They walked on tiptoes, barely pressing against the ground. Some even took off their shoes, moving stealthily with bare feet. When they reached the pit’s edge, they desperately clung to the earthen wall and climbed up.

The people at the edge of the pit reacted and hurriedly leaned down to help, pulling and tugging. Midway through, someone lost their footing and kicked loose a small pebble embedded in the earthen wall. The pebble hit the bronze cover with a clang, and worse still, it bounced and rolled, producing a clear initial sound followed by a lingering, eerie vibration from the bronze cover.

In an instant, everyone’s expression changed. They held their breath and froze in place, their heartbeats rising and falling with the same intensity as the pebble. Fortunately, the sound gradually faded away without triggering any abnormal events.

Soon, except for Jiang Lian, everyone had climbed up to the edge of the pit. Though they hadn’t noticed while climbing, once they stood on level ground, they felt short of breath and weak in the knees, so they squatted or sat down in small groups.

Meng Qianzi didn’t speak, only repeatedly gesturing to Jiang Lian at the bottom of the pit, signaling him to come up quickly.

Jiang Lian made a gesture to her, indicating there was no hurry and that she shouldn’t worry.

Why had everyone fled upward? Wouldn’t they just be standing around up there? It was better to stay below where he could see clearly. As long as he didn’t make any noise, it should be safe, though, come to think of it, would making noise necessarily be unsafe?

Upon further reflection, he found it amusing. They hadn’t even seen what was down there, just some strange sounds, yet nearly twenty people were scared weak-kneed. No wonder people say that the most frightening thing in this world has always been one’s imagination.

However, Jiang Lian didn’t dare use the shovel anymore. He crouched down and used his hands to brush away the soil.

Meng Qianzi was anxious but helpless since Jiang Lian wouldn’t come up. She couldn’t rashly go down into the pit either—if the leader went down, wouldn’t the others have to follow? Wouldn’t that make their climb up pointless?

She frowned as she watched for a while, then instructed Pi Xiu to bring a pair of safety gloves. She gave a very low whistle to get Jiang Lian’s attention, and when he looked up, she threw the gloves to him.

The soil was wet and mixed with sharp pebbles and sand, making it difficult for Jiang Lian to continue pushing it with his bare hands. He caught the gloves with a raised hand, smiled at Meng Qianzi, tucked them under one arm, wiped his hands on his pants for a while, and then put them on to continue.

The previous group had almost excavated to the bottom, so Jiang Lian was just doing the final cleaning. The people at the edge were both concerned and curious, all leaning over to look down. Those with binoculars used them; those without used their phones’ zoom function. The more they looked, the more alarmed they became.

At the bottom of the pit, except for where the coffin was located, there was a bronze cover everywhere. This cover wasn’t made up of pieces fitted together; it was completely whole, without even the slightest gap.

If the guess was correct, this bronze cover had been directly cast with molten bronze. The casting had been rushed and crude, resulting in an uneven surface covered with uncomfortable wrinkles, some resembling hideous scars, others like bulging tendons and muscular membranes.

Moreover, Jiang Lian had already cleared to the edge of the pit, yet the bronze cover continued to extend into the soil, meaning one couldn’t tell how long, wide, or extensive this bronze cover was.

Seeing there was nothing more to clean, Jiang Lian finally waved to those at the edge of the pit. Pi Xiu lowered a rope, pulling him up.

Looking from the edge of the pit was different from being at the bottom, especially regarding the third coffin, which stood eerily isolated with its bottom protruding.

Jiang Lian pointed it out to Meng Qianzi, lowering his voice: “This bronze cover probably can’t be pried up, and using heavy machinery isn’t very practical either. Looking at it from all angles, that coffin has become the only entrance.”

Indeed, like a door opening, the coffin would mean entering.

As she stared, Meng Qianzi almost had an illusion: she felt as if the coffin lid was very slowly opening, pivoting on one edge, and in the next second, it would burst open with a bang, and from the coffin would emerge something terrifying.

She could forcefully demand that the mountain dwellers dig the pit, but she couldn’t order them to open the coffin lid. The situation was too bizarre. She led people on missions, but couldn’t let it end up like the Water Ghost sect. Forget about total annihilation—she couldn’t accept even sporadic casualties.

Unwilling to enter but reluctant to retreat, Meng Qianzi ordered them to set up camp on the spot.

Since the weather forecast predicted rain again that night, camping on the ground wasn’t suitable. Road Three Bright arranged for people to set up camp in the trees and instructed Pi Xiu to find a way to cover the pit opening. Otherwise, when it rained, the patter would cause the bronze cover to vibrate repeatedly, which might attract that unknown thing—and that would be terrible.

While everyone was setting up camp, Jiang Lian contacted Shen Gun. Ever since hearing Jiang Lian’s angry shout, “Don’t speak! Everyone, be quiet!” through the walkie-talkie, Shen Gun hadn’t dared to make a sound. He had almost pushed his ear into the speaker, trying to hear what was happening, but only heard wind and tree sounds.

The quieter it was, the more frightening it became. Shen Gun was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, almost ready to lead people with crutches toward the site in his capacity as a Three-Layered Lotus Petal. Now, hearing Jiang Lian’s voice, he felt relief wash over him and patted his chest several times.

After listening to Jiang Lian’s narrative and seeing the photos sent over, Shen Gun felt like he was lost in fog and clouds. After a while, he finally said, “This probably isn’t a tomb, right? If it were a proper tomb chamber, it would have a basic shape, wouldn’t it? Even if it were a grave, there should be a tombstone.”

Jiang Lian remained silent. Who knew? What if it were a tomb? What if, when the coffin lid was opened, there was a mass grave for thousands below?

“Also,” Shen Gun suddenly thought of something, “are you sure that’s a bronze cover?”

It seemed like it, Jiang Lian thought: “Do you remember the many bronze supports at the cliff mouth of Suspended Gallbladder Peak Forest, facilitating the green covers’ formation at the cliff top? The material is similar to that.”

Shen Gun slapped his thigh: “That’s precisely the issue! Think about it, when was bronze widely used? You should know that by the end of the Warring States period, China was already proliferating iron products.”

Jiang Lian made an affirmative sound: “You don’t need to tell me; I can see that thing has some age to it.”

Those three coffins probably had several thousand years of history. Who knows what wood they were made of, to have been buried for so long in a rain-soaked southern region without decaying or rotting?

Shen Gun said, “That’s not what I meant. You mentioned Suspended Gallbladder Peak Forest, which reminds me of Chi You—according to legend, the Chi You tribe was skilled in melting copper and iron. At that time, even the Yellow Emperor didn’t understand this technology. Relying on bronze weapons, the Chi You tribe was invincible. The Yellow Emperor was continuously defeated at first, ‘nine battles, nine defeats.'”

Jiang Lian was struck by a thought. He had only recognized that the bronze cover was ancient, but Shen Gun went further, narrowing down to a more specific time: “Are you suggesting that, like the Suspended Gallbladder Peak Forest, this might also be the work of the Chi You tribe?”

Shen Gun was excited: “We’ve found the right place. We found the Mountain Gallbladder at Suspended Gallbladder Peak Forest, which led to Yan Luo. Through the connection between Yan Luo and Miss Duan, we’ve now found this Phoenix Eye—if there’s nothing under this Phoenix Eye, I’ll cut off my head and give it to you…”

Jiang Lian frowned: what a strange quirk, not betting on something tangible but offering his head…

“It could be something as miraculous as the Mountain Gallbladder, or even more significant. Where’s Miss Meng? At the final step, she just… set up camp to sleep?”

Jiang Lian was quite understanding of Meng Qianzi: “It’s apparent that the Mountain Ghost sect is reluctant to disturb graves, let alone open coffins…”

Shen Gun was anxious: “This isn’t a grave. It’s a kind of… illusion, just like at Suspended Gallbladder Peak Forest, where the Three-Layered Mountain had a fake Mountain Gallbladder, tricking people into turning back—think about it, when digging the Phoenix Eye, discovering a coffin would make 50% of people feel it’s inauspicious and stop digging. Finding a second one, extremely ominous, would cause another 30% to give up. By the third coffin, 99% of people would break down…”

That was true. The mountain dwellers’ emotional reactions matched Shen Gun’s description quite well.

Shen Gun continued rambling: “This is the opponent’s trick. We can’t be fooled by them. Talk to Miss Meng; she doesn’t seem like someone afraid to take risks.”

Jiang Lian knew Shen Gun had missed the point: “This isn’t about daring to take risks. At Suspended Gallbladder Peak Forest, we knew we were looking for the Mountain Gallbladder—our goal was clear. Back then, there were only three of us; Qianzi was only responsible for herself, so making decisions was easy.”

“But now, firstly, we don’t know what we’re looking for, and there are those strange sounds below. Would you dare to take the risk? If you told me the box was down there, I might grit my teeth and open the coffin. But if the box is in Kunlun Mountain, even if I’m willing to risk my life, it should be at Kunlun Mountain, right? Secondly, she’s responsible for too many people now. Whatever decision she makes means those dozen or so people will follow her—does she dare? The slightest mistake could cost a life.”

Shen Gun was speechless. After a pause, he mumbled, “So… we’re just giving up on the Phoenix Right Eye lead?”

Jiang Lian was vague: “Let’s see how things develop.”

After hanging up, Jiang Lian headed toward the camp.

Probably due to the taboo surrounding the pit, the camp was intentionally set up at a distance. In Jiang Lian’s imagination, camping in trees meant building tree houses. But when he got closer, he was utterly amazed.

The camp for nearly twenty people was distributed among three or four trees with sturdy branches and lush foliage.

There were no tree houses. Instead, what looked like hanging bird cages were suspended at various heights in the trees.

Climbing up for a closer look, he discovered they were waterproof conical bags. Without a flat top, rainwater would flow down the conical surface, preventing pressure on the top. The bottom had a folding plastic board—very lightweight but quite rigid. When opened, a person could sit inside. Pulling the zipper on the side of the conical bag created a self-contained small world.

For those who enjoyed a swinging sensation, just the supporting point at the top was enough. Those wanting more stability could add two additional guide ropes in different directions, tied at different positions, providing three-point support.

Meng Qianzi had already seated herself in a conical bag up high, with a flashlight lit beside her. The conical bag was filled with a yellowish glow. With lowered eyelids and cascading long hair, she resembled someone sitting in a Buddhist shrine, her features taking on an otherworldly quality.

Jiang Lian climbed up a few steps and stopped in front of her: “Your Mountain Ghost sect’s…”

He pointed at the conical bag: “This is quite interesting.”

Meng Qianzi wasn’t satisfied: “Not really. You can only sit or lie down. Only very thin and small people can curl up to sleep. These sleeping cages still need improvement.”

There was indeed a “cage” character in the name.

Jiang Lian didn’t waste words and went straight to the point: “What are you thinking?”

Meng Qianzi beckoned to him with her finger.

Jiang Lian was both amused and exasperated, not wanting to play along, but unconsciously leaned closer.

Meng Qianzi said, “I still want to go down and have a look. It’s just…”

Jiang Lian said, “Just that opening a coffin sounds too disrespectful if spoken aloud?”

Meng Qianzi shook her head: “That’s not the main issue. Anyone with eyes can see this is probably not a coffin anymore—I’m thinking about how to go down most safely. We came too hastily. We have enough camping equipment, but our combat equipment is insufficient. The Water Ghost sect brought flamethrowers when they descended into the Drifting Ground Cave. We can’t just go down with shovels and daggers, can we?”

That made sense. Jiang Lian asked, “That thing… if it’s a living creature, would it be considered a mountain beast?”

If it were a mountain beast, with Meng Qianzi’s golden bell in hand, whatever it was wouldn’t be a concern.

Meng Qianzi looked a bit deflated: “I’ve considered that too, but the pit is already four or five meters deep. We don’t know how thick the bronze cover is, and that thing is even deeper below. At such depths underground, it’s probably not under my jurisdiction.”

True, Jiang Lian remained silent: this was different from a tiankeng. Though a tiankeng is also a negative landform, at least the sky is overhead. Besides, those suspended gallbladder peak forests initially collapsed from the ground due to the hollow eroded bottom.

“I’ve discussed with Road Three Bright. Early tomorrow morning, we’ll contact Sixth Mother and Seventh Mother. They are our backup and support. We’ll bring in a batch of higher-grade equipment, like for that coffin opening…”

She gestured toward the pit: “It’s been sealed down there for so long. Do you know what the situation might be? Could there be mold or unknown viruses? At the very least, we need biohazard suits, right? And we need a reconnaissance robot with night vision cameras and biological detection capabilities.”

Jiang Lian drew in a sharp breath: “You rich people!”

Meng Qianzi accepted the comment candidly: “Of course. With technological advancement, we should use technology to facilitate everything—what era is this? Are we still sending chickens in to detect poison gas or using human meat rolls for exploration?”

Speaking, she indicated a conical bag below: “That one is yours.”

Looking in the indicated direction, his conical bag wasn’t far from hers, about a meter away, and also about a meter lower, swaying gently, suspended only from the top.

Jiang Lian frowned: “Why am I below you?”

Meng Qianzi asked curiously: “You want to be above me?”

As adults, they were somewhat aware of ambiguous jokes. As soon as Meng Qianzi finished speaking, she suddenly realized the ambiguity that could make someone think inappropriately—of course, she had already thought inappropriately, and her cheeks flushed slightly.

But she pretended nothing had happened: Jiang Lian might not have thought of it, and if he hadn’t noticed her words, the moment would pass.

After all, it was a normal conversation. If the conversation wasn’t inappropriate, it was the mind that was.

Jiang Lian’s mind, however, did go there.

He maintained a composed expression, reflecting on himself: seeing Meng Qianzi’s calm demeanor, she was just asking a normal question. His own thoughts wandering elsewhere showed he wasn’t very pure-minded.

He coughed lightly twice: “Then I’ll stay below.”

After saying this, he felt he shouldn’t have responded to her words, as it only made things more awkward.

So he coughed twice more, nimbly climbed down, crawled into the conical bag, looked up to wish her good night, and zipped up the zipper with a “shh” sound.

Meng Qianzi didn’t speak, but oddly, waited until he had completely zipped up before calling him: “Jiang Lian.”

With a “shh” sound, Jiang Lian poked his head out: “What?”

Meng Qianzi said, “Do you know why you were arranged there?”

Why?

As Jiang Lian pondered, he saw Meng Qianzi lean out, one hand steadying herself on the tree trunk, the other reaching out to push his bag.

Jiang Lian instantly felt this wasn’t good: “Hey, hey, that’s too much…”

He hoped Meng Qianzi had short arms, but she didn’t. Her arms were quite long. With just one push, he swung away, person and conical bag together.

Meng Qianzi collapsed into giggles.

Jiang Lian consoled himself: consider it a return to childhood, swinging on a swing.

Also, he reminded himself never to easily crawl into someone else’s cage again.

Having played a trick on Jiang Lian, Meng Qianzi had actually energized herself, leaning left and right in the conical bag, unable to fall asleep.

When she finally did fall asleep, rain began to fall from the sky again, accompanied by wind and even thunder.

Her conical bag had three fixed ropes, but it still couldn’t stop swaying. She thought of Jiang Lian again, and in her dream, she was tying guide ropes for him: seeing herself soaked to the bone, desperately stretching out a hand gripping a hook, trying to catch the ring on Jiang Lian’s conical bag. But Jiang Lian swung wildly with the conical bag, pendulum-like, swinging back and forth in front of her, each time beyond her reach.

Then there was thunder, thunder, thunder.

…

Meng Qianzi suddenly opened her eyes.

No, this wasn’t thunder. The sound was like a giant drum or bell ringing—it was the bronze cover being violently struck by something!

She quickly unzipped the conical bag, flipped over, and climbed down the tree. Reaching the base, she saw that Jiang Lian had also come down. Most people in the other conical bags probably hadn’t reacted yet: the majority were still sleeping, though some found it strange and curiously turned on their flashlights.

The rain was still falling, instantly soaking her to the bone. She ran frantically toward the pit’s edge. Before she was halfway there, the reverberating sound stopped. Meng Qianzi’s heart skipped a beat, instinctively halting her steps, but she immediately recovered and staggered forward.

As she approached, she saw that the large tarpaulin originally covering the pit opening had been removed. The night watchmen, along with several mountain dwellers, either stood dumbfounded or sat fallen on the ground, all pale-faced.

Meng Qianzi shouted, “What happened?”

She didn’t expect them to answer, continuing her stride directly to the edge of the pit.

Looking down, she felt a buzzing in her head.

The third coffin was gone—more precisely, it had been shattered into pieces by something. There were densely packed white bones everywhere, along with split and broken wood—if this had truly been a coffin, those buried inside were not just one person, but layers upon layers, packed tightly together.

At the original position of the coffin, there was now a large hole. Looking into it, one could only see darkness, seemingly glimmering with water.

Meng Qianzi turned back to look at those people and sternly demanded, “What happened here?”

Jiang Lian had also arrived. Hearing this, he stopped, not rushing to look down, but also examining those people.

One slightly braver person stammered in response: “M-Mr. Shen… is down there.”

Mr. Shen? Shen Gun?

Meng Qianzi felt a chill rise from her heart.

Only then did she notice that, besides the night watchmen, the other mountain dwellers weren’t those she had brought in, but those she had left at the camp as backup and to take care of Shen Gun.