Since the leaders were charging ahead, the mountain dwellers instantly became proactive, all expressing their willingness to follow.

The two guarding the intestinal opening continued their original duty, while the remaining twenty people were divided by Ni Qiuhui into four groups of five. The temporary plan was to first take one group inside, with the other three groups waiting at the entrance for instructions.

Eight people—three in front, five behind—entered through the intestinal opening where the snow pheasant had been gnawed into a blood pheasant.

After descending into the cave, Ni Qiuhui didn’t rush further in but first opened her palm. Huang Song, beside her, quickly handed over a dagger. Ni Qiuhui ran the dagger across her palm, then clenched her fist, causing blood to drip intermittently from between her fingers.

This was to ward off mountain beasts. During this brief moment, Jiang Lian loosened the binding rope on Shen Gun’s feet.

He really couldn’t stand watching Shen Gun taking those tiny shuffling steps. If Shen Gun entered the mountain intestine and got stimulated into acting crazy…

Well, low-level craziness could be controlled with so many people around; as for high-level craziness, those two binding ropes would be useless anyway.

The group proceeded inward.

Ni Qiuhui walked at the front with Huang Song beside her holding a light, Jiang Lian and Shen Gun in the middle, and the remaining four bringing up the rear. Every dozen meters or so, someone would stick a luminous patch with adhesive on the cave wall—this was newly requisitioned equipment. As they walked, a “light strip” formed behind them, providing clear direction.

Every hundred meters or so, they would also write the characters for “Safe” on the wall using both photosensitive and luminous pens.

Jiang Lian thought this method was good. If messages couldn’t be sent out, writing on the cave walls served the same purpose. Those who entered later could use these as references. Such simple logic—Aunts Four and Seven should have thought of this.

Just as this thought crossed his mind, Ni Qiuhui stopped. Huang Song’s flashlight illuminated a spot on the cave wall, his voice somewhat excited: “This was written by our people, and there’s an arrow…”

Markings? Everyone crowded around.

Not only were there markings, but also a character: “米” (rice).

Ni Qiuhui asked Huang Song, “Is anyone with the surname Mi among those who entered?”

After thinking for a while, Huang Song firmly shook his head: “No.”

Shen Gun frowned, mumbling: “Rice… do they need rice? Cooking seems unlikely, for exorcism perhaps… but wouldn’t glutinous rice be used for that?”

Jiang Lian felt this “rice” character had a deeper meaning. After looking at it for a few seconds, he suddenly remembered: “This must have been written by Assistant Meng, or Miss Meng. Miss Meng mentioned that Assistant Meng’s ancestors worked in the clothing appraisal business. This is code—the character for rice has eight strokes coming out from the top, meaning they have eight people.”

Upon hearing the words “clothing appraisal business,” Ni Qiuhui understood: “Twenty-five people should have been arranged as ’23+2,’ but it seems they’ve dispersed into smaller teams. However, this arrow…”

The arrow was very strange, actually pointing outward, against the direction of the group’s advance.

At this point, they had only been in the cave for about ten minutes, and there were no forks along the way. If there were indeed eight people following this arrow’s direction, logically, they should have already successfully exited the mountain’s intestine.

Shen Gun clicked his tongue: “Could it be a ghost wall? They reached the exit but couldn’t get out.”

Ni Qiuhui pointed to two people: “You two, head back toward the exit now, quicken your pace, and see if you can get out.”

The two acknowledged and quickly walked outward. About fifteen minutes later, they returned, panting: “We could get out. We walked to the exit before coming back.”

This was strange. Could the marking be fake? Ni Qiuhui pondered: “Circle it for now, authenticity to be determined.”

Huang Song followed her instructions, circling it with a pen and putting a question mark beside it.

The group continued inward. About five minutes later, they unexpectedly reached a dead end with a hole in the ground. Huang Song peered over the edge: “About ten meters down to the next level.”

Ten meters wasn’t a problem. Ni Qiuhui ordered ropes to be knotted together. Two ropes were joined, and people would descend in pairs to assist each other.

Jiang Lian and Huang Song went down first. Halfway down, Huang Song’s sharp eyes caught something: “Stop! Stop! There are more characters here!”

The people holding the ropes above quickly tightened their grip. Huang Song momentarily lost his balance, swinging back and forth on the rope, his flashlight beam unsteady, but still able to illuminate several characters on the upper diagonal wall.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Next to it was a simple stick figure drawing.

What was strange was that half of the “不” (not) character in “不害怕” (don’t be afraid) was missing—this was a well-like tubular passage, and the characters were at the junction of the side wall and ceiling. From the look of it, the missing half was wedged into the seam.

Jiang Lian couldn’t help saying: “Are you sure this was written by mountain dwellers?”

Huang Song was certain: “This type of pen was internally designed and custom-made for us. It was only put into use two years ago. I’ve never seen anyone else use it.”

Jiang Lian remained silent: the position of the characters was too peculiar. This passage was like a tube, and when hanging from a rope, a person’s body would be parallel to the tube wall. When writing, one would either write horizontally across or vertically down.

But the effect of these characters was horizontal writing, vertically arranged. To give an example, it was as if someone had written a line of text on a corridor wall, and then the corridor was set upright, making the line of text vertical, but to read it, you’d have to tilt your head 90 degrees.

How could anyone climb to that angle to write? And the message was too childish—what normal person would write a childish “don’t be afraid” as if comforting a kid?

Among the twenty-five people…

A thought struck him: there was someone—Shi Xiaohai would likely write this way.

As he was thinking, another rope dropped straight down. Ni Qiuhui had grown impatient waiting above and decided to come down herself, though small and thin, her movements were as agile as a monkey’s. In an instant, she had descended to Jiang Lian’s side.

She pursed her lips, looking at those few characters, her eyes showing shifting thoughts. After a pause, she asked: “What do you think of this?”

Huang Song didn’t know how to answer and remained silent. Jiang Lian spoke frankly: “Normally, no one would write characters like this. Plus, half of the ‘不’ character is missing. Either someone is being deliberately mysterious, or…”

He felt the last part was too absurd and swallowed it.

Ni Qiuhui, however, was interested in what he had to say: “Finish your thought—or’ what?”

Jiang Lian forced himself to continue: “Or… this mountain intestine is being deliberately mysterious.”

To his surprise, Ni Qiuhui nodded: “Very possible. The two young men who had been guarding this place said that something seemed to be changing inside the mountain, unnoticeable when standing, but perceptible when lying on the ground. I thought it was strange then—mountain tremors would be a big deal.”

Jiang Lian quickly caught on: “Not the mountain moving? But… the intestine moving?”

Huang Song listened, completely confused, but didn’t dare to interject.

Ni Qiuhui made an affirmative sound: “Nine winding intestines are twisted and connected. It would only need to slightly rearrange its connections for the internal structure to become completely different… this rescue mission is meaningless.”

Jiang Lian was confused: “How could it be meaningless?”

Ni Qiuhui said, “Don’t you understand? A maze is already difficult to navigate, let alone one that constantly renews itself. Usually, rescue involves outsiders bringing insiders out, but here, the more people enter, the more get trapped—the key to escaping lies in those inside saving themselves, not in outsiders coming to the rescue.”

She looked toward Huang Song: “While the intestinal passage hasn’t changed yet, quickly take everyone out. I estimate the Sixth Sister will arrive soon. Once outside, tell her what I’ve said—everyone should wait outside, no need to send people in.”

Huang Song listened, half-understanding: “Then… Third Great-aunt, aren’t you coming out?”

Ni Qiuhui said, “I’ll join up with them. I can be of help, increasing the chances of self-rescue. Inside, it’s not about numbers—you all… have a small chance of being useful and a big chance of getting into trouble.”

Huang Song looked embarrassed but still acknowledged her words. He grabbed the rope, giving it a shake, and shouted: “Pull me up!”

Ni Qiuhui watched him ascend, then turned to Jiang Lian: “What about you? Not leaving?”

Jiang Lian shook his head and called up, “Shen Gun, it seems this intestinal passage can move on its own. Any routes or markings left are useless. Are you still brave enough to come in?”

Soon, Shen Gun’s voice, both surprised and delighted, floated down: “How exciting! Can it move on its own? Then I must examine it carefully.”

Eight people had become three once again.

Now, it was Jiang Lian’s turn to provide light for Ni Qiuhui.

With fewer people, conversation flowed more easily. Shen Gun tried to get familiar with Ni Qiuhui: “Third Great-aunt, I heard you live in Sichuan?”

Ni Qiuhui said, “Mount Qingcheng.”

“Do you… live by the mountain there?”

“I took religious vows.”

Jiang Lian was startled, but quickly recovered his composure, continuing to provide light as before.

Shen Gun, however, couldn’t hide his surprise, his words becoming stuttered: “Took… vows? Third Great-aunt, did something… happen to you?”

He had originally wanted to ask if she had encountered some calamity or had something troubling her mind, but felt that wasn’t tactful enough.

Ni Qiuhui smiled and said: “Many people have asked this question, and I’ve developed a standard answer… I have a family and children, didn’t experience any misfortune, and lived quite well. My children are also making me proud. When I wanted to take vows, I told my family, and then I did it. Taking vows is just a choice—not escaping the world, not severing worldly ties, not being desperate, and not losing heart.”

Shen Gun hadn’t expected such an answer. After careful consideration, he suddenly felt his narrow-mindedness. Looking at Ni Qiuhui again, he suddenly realized that despite her thin, small, and unremarkable appearance, she carried the dignified air of a Mountain Matriarch.