In some ways, having Meng Qianzi come along saved Xian Qionghua a lot of trouble. Xian Qionghua could also “repel mountain beasts,” but she would need to use a blood talisman, which meant she’d have to cut herself and draw blood. With Meng Qianzi’s golden bells, things were much more convenient.

Besides, in such a dangerous place, having two people moving one in front and one behind, providing mutual defense, gave them both more peace of mind.

Meng Qianzi leaned on a hiking staff. Though she had injected herself with a syringe of medicine, she still walked slowly to protect her leg. As she walked, she shone her flashlight in all directions. She and Xian Qionghua had entered through the intestinal passage where the snow pheasant had frantically escaped. She was eager to discover what creature had been gnawing on the snow pheasant—Huang Song had said the pheasant’s leg was almost completely severed, with only a bit of skin connecting it.” That had to be caused by very small mouths and teeth. Whatever it was must be tiny, and there had to be many of them. She had also heard faint clattering sounds, which suggested the creatures weren’t soft-bodied worms but had hard shells.

However, whether because “repel mountain beasts” was working or not, they had been walking inward for over fifteen minutes without encountering anything unusual.

This “Nine Winding Intestines” truly lived up to its name. In just these fifteen minutes, they had already passed seven or eight branch tunnels, though they could only follow one path. At each junction, Xian Qionghua marked a small arrow on the stone with a luminescent rock pencil, writing the character “7” next to it.

When they reached another junction, Xian Qionghua stopped and pointed her flashlight upward. There was a large hole above them—or more precisely, another intestinal passage. This hole was where two intestines intersected.

Meng Qianzi walked over and peered upward in Xian Qionghua’s flashlight beam. “This does look like a jumble of industrial pipes in some large factory.”

Xian Qionghua felt worried. There were too many branching paths. Even if backup could somehow send a thousand mountain ghosts, they would all be separated and isolated by these countless tunnels. And if they tried to move as a group, in these narrow intestinal passages, gathering people together offered no real advantage and would just make them easy targets for an ambush.

She fingered the end of the rope, not knowing what useful information she could relay to those outside.

After walking another stretch, Xian Qionghua suddenly spotted a faint glow from a luminescent rock pencil near the entrance of a tunnel not far ahead.

These pencils were custom-made for mountain ghosts and came in two types—luminescent and photosensitive—according to personal preference. Mountain ghosts had a tradition of leaving marks when lost to help with rescue efforts.

Xian Qionghua was delighted and quickly took three steps forward.

It was an arrow with a character beside it—the character “mi,” meaning “rice.”

What did this mean? Xian Qionghua was completely puzzled, but Meng Qianzi came over, looked at it, and immediately said, “Go in this direction. Jinsong is this way. The ‘mi’ character has eight strokes, meaning they have eight people.”

Xian Qionghua didn’t understand, but she didn’t bother asking questions. She knew following the sign would be correct. She proceeded down that tunnel, passing two more junctions along the way. Fortunately, each time they found arrows with the “mi” character. As they continued, her flashlight beam suddenly illuminated a pool of blood with a glove scattered beside it.

It was too cold here; the blood had already frozen, but judging by its color, it wasn’t old blood. And the glove was mountain ghost equipment.

Meng Qianzi’s heart skipped a beat. Obviously, something had happened to Meng Jinsong’s team, but the scene revealed little information. She said, “Put the glove to the side as a marker so we can recognize the path on our way back.”

After placing the glove, they continued forward. At the next junction, the character next to the arrow had changed to “zhu.”

Meng Qianzi silently counted the strokes in the “zhu” character. “One person died. They’re down to seven now.”

Another death. Xian Qionghua’s heart sank.

But for now, all they could do was keep moving. The two continued through the deathly silent intestinal passages, occasionally hearing their heavy breathing.

Before long, Xian Qionghua stopped again.

In front of them lay a pile of clothes—a windbreaker, windproof pants, boot covers, and another glove.

But there was no corpse, just clothes.

Xian Qionghua sighed inwardly. Just as she was about to move closer for a look, Meng Qianzi grabbed her arm and whispered, “Seventh Mother, why would Jinsong be so careless as to carry a dead person’s clothes all this way just to discard them?”

Good point. Xian Qionghua considered this. “Could it be that, like the snow pheasant, someone was attacked at the previous location and, after fleeing here, was… completely devoured?”

Meng Qianzi shuddered at the thought but then shook her head. “That’s not it. The character changing from ‘mi’ to ‘zhu’ indicates that one person had already died.”

Xian Qionghua nodded to show she understood, then cautiously approached.

Meng Qianzi backed up two steps to provide perimeter defense.

Xian Qionghua approached, crouched down, and reached out to touch the clothes. At that moment, something suddenly burst out from beneath the clothes, lunging at her head.

Xian Qionghua’s heart pounded violently, but she was prepared. She quickly shifted her body aside. Simultaneously, Meng Qianzi’s arm-mounted crossbow fired repeatedly, sending golden talismans through the clothes and onto the creature.

The thing quickly retracted, pulling the clothes down with it. Only then did Xian Qionghua realize that beneath the clothes was a hole connecting to yet another intestinal passage below.

After the creature retreated, there was no further movement from the hole.

Xian Qionghua was breathing heavily, covered in cold sweat. She wiped her forehead, took out a sticky note, and wrote a line of text.

—Ambushes. Sneak attacks. The enemy is hidden, we are exposed. Above and below, beware of traps.

After writing, she wrapped the sticky note around the rope, circumvented the hole, and continued forward. Truthfully, she was no longer confident whether the rope would remain intact or be successfully pulled back out.

After walking a while, she softly said, “Sister Zi, from the looks of things, we must have lost more than one mountain household member.”

Before Meng Qianzi could respond, they suddenly heard faint, agonized screams from ahead.

The Nine Winding Intestines absorbed sound, so being able to hear meant they must be quite close. Meng Qianzi’s heart leaped, and she shouted, “Jinsong!”

Xian Qionghua had already darted forward.

Meng Qianzi, slower, arrived a moment later. At a glance, she saw the disheveled Meng Jinsong and counted—good, seven people. There was another intestinal hole in the ground. A mountain household member lay collapsed, blood pooling around him. At first, Meng Qianzi couldn’t see where he was injured, until one of the mountain household members rolled up his pant legs. Only then did she see that parts of both his legs were missing.

Meng Qianzi’s face turned pale. “What happened?”

Meng Jinsong’s voice had changed from strain: “Qianzi, you came in without seeing the stone insects?”

As Meng Qianzi had guessed, Jing Rusi’s group had tried and failed to use the avalanche to drive away the snow wild men. Instead, they had been chased into the Nine Winding Intestines.

The situation had been urgent. Fearing that everyone would be forced into a dead end and trapped by the snow wild men, Jing Rusi had desperately shouted, “Everyone split up and run!”

In the chaos, Meng Jinsong hadn’t seen which branch tunnel Jing Rusi had entered. He only knew that, in the end, his group consisted of eight people.

This was a decent-sized team, and since he was the highest-ranking member, he naturally became the leader. Having lost their bearings, he started guiding the team to find a path, using the luminescent rock pencil to mark the way and indicate their numbers. Before entering the cave, he had sent a distress signal as Jing Rusi had instructed, knowing Meng Qianzi would likely come to their rescue and would understand his markings.

The initial path-finding went smoothly. They hadn’t encountered any snow wild men, and apart from the constant junctions and the intersecting intestinal passages above and below, they hadn’t encountered any other problems. After walking for a while, they stopped to rest, some standing, some sitting. One of the mountain household members leaned against the cave wall while talking to someone beside him.

As he spoke, the man’s expression suddenly changed drastically. He began screaming repeatedly, his body contorting as he frantically slapped at his back and rubbed against the cave wall like a madman. Meng Jinsong guessed something might be wrong, but in his extreme pain, the man was using such force that two or three mountain household members couldn’t restrain him. They only noticed that, while trying to pull him away, several small stones fell from his body with clattering sounds. Meng Jinsong had assumed they had been scraped off the cave wall and paid no attention.

Eventually, with the combined strength of three people, they managed to pin the mountain household member to the ground. But those three quickly released their grip, pointing at the man and screaming in terror.

Meng Jinsong saw the man lying on the ground, face toward him, his entire body convulsing uncontrollably as if dancing against the floor. Stone seemed to be flowing continuously into his collar.

Meng Jinsong thought he must be seeing things and rubbed his eyes. No, he wasn’t mistaken. It was as if the adjacent cave wall had suddenly come alive, flowing in streams into the mountain household member’s collar and then engulfing his head. Then came the almost maddening “crack-crack-crack” sounds.

Those “small stones” also began to move, and Meng Jinsong finally realized they weren’t stones at all!

It was too late to save the man. Using a flamethrower would have burned him alive, and his head was already visibly caving in. Worse, stone creatures were flowing out of him, moving toward the remaining people. Meng Jinsong gritted his teeth and ordered everyone to run—run fast.

The agonized screams remained behind them. At the next junction, Meng Jinsong changed the character from “mi” to “zhu,” marking their direction and silently indicating their casualties.

Meng Qianzi interrupted him: “You didn’t collect his clothes?”

Meng Jinsong gave a bitter smile. “At a time like that, who would think of collecting clothes? We’ll have to recover the body later.”

Meng Qianzi nodded, then gestured toward the severely injured mountain household member. “You’ve already lost one person. How did you lose another?”

Meng Jinsong was truly helpless. “We just couldn’t see them, Qianzi. We were on guard against insects, but these creatures, when motionless, look exactly like the cave walls—just as hard, just as angular. We can’t possibly defend against the entire mountain. And besides…”

He pointed at the intestinal hole in the ground. “There was no hole initially; it was just the ground. Three of us had walked across safely. He was the fourth. When he stepped there, the ground suddenly started flowing, and his feet sank in. We heard ‘crack-crack-crack,’ knowing his legs were being gnawed on. I tried the flamethrower, but it was useless. Fortunately, after hearing your voices, the stone insects flowed away downward, and we managed to pull him out. If you had arrived a bit later, his lower half… would probably have been eaten entirely.”

It had nothing to do with the sound. It was likely that as she approached, the range of her “repel mountain beasts” had extended, causing the stone insects to retreat out of instinct.

The nearby mountain household members were still busy bandaging the severely injured man. Xian Qionghua was quickly writing something on the second type of sticky note. She looked at Meng Qianzi: “Fourth Sister also knows how to repel mountain beasts. Those who stayed with her should be fine. Those who got separated from her… they’re likely in grave danger.”

Meng Qianzi felt a chill run down her spine. “Remember to remind them that when backup comes, they must have an Aunt leading the team.”

Grandma’s health was poor, and Fifth Aunt suffered severe altitude sickness on the plateau, her head swelling up to the size of a basin. The only ones who could lead were Second, Third, and Sixth Mother.

Without an Aunt leading, they absolutely could not enter. Entering would be suicide.

Meng Jinsong couldn’t help asking, “Qianzi, have you ever heard of these things? I’ve never heard of such stone insects before.”

Meng Qianzi shook her head, then, after a pause, added, “Without head or eyes, it’s hard to say if they’re even insects. This is the Nine Winding Intestines. If you ask me, they’re like gut bacteria, busy cleaning the intestines.”

Logically, they should have evacuated the severely injured mountain household member first, but both forward and backward paths were equally dangerous, and time was precious. If they continued forward, they might save more isolated mountain household members.

Xian Qionghua had people tie several garments together to make a stretcher and place the severely injured man on it. With nine people in the team and an injured member, their pace slowed considerably. Meng Qianzi now led the front.

Xian Qionghua brought up the rear. At each junction, she left a mark “7+zhu,” indicating that the two groups had merged.

With Meng Qianzi in front and Xian Qionghua at the back, the mountain household members felt much more secure, considering themselves fortunate to have survived one death and one injury. Now with powerful figures by their side, they had hope of making it out of the mountain alive.

After walking a bit further, one mountain household member suddenly thought of something: “Miss Meng, Seventh Aunt, do you think the others might have run upward or downward?”

That was possible. Xian Qionghua replied, “Let’s focus on this level first. With all these levels, up above and down below, who knows how many there are in total?”

The mountain household member ducked his head and said nothing more.

After walking for about another half hour, they ran out of rope. Fortunately, the mountain household members carried mountain ghost baskets, so they stopped to untie and extend the rope.

Due to her slow pace, Meng Qianzi habitually walked a few steps ahead. Above, there was another intestinal hole. Meng Qianzi shone her flashlight at it for a while and warned those behind: “Be careful when passing holes like this. Watch out for things falling from above or suddenly being pulled up.”

As she spoke, she swept her flashlight beam forward a few steps and saw another mark: made with a photosensitive pencil, it glowed brightly when her flashlight hit it.

Another mountain household member had left a message? Her heart leaped with joy as she moved closer to look.

It wasn’t a mark but a stick figure, like one drawn by a three-year-old—a circle for the head, a few lines for the torso and limbs. Tears were falling from the figure’s eyes.

Who would do something so childish?

Meng Qianzi suddenly thought of something and turned to look at Meng Jinsong. “Jinsong, this couldn’t be drawn by Shi Xiaohai, could it?”

Meng Jinsong came over in response.

The distance between them was about three to four meters.

As Meng Jinsong approached the hole, remembering Meng Qianzi’s words, he instinctively looked upward.

That glance saved his life. Meng Qianzi saw Meng Jinsong’s expression suddenly change as he rapidly retreated. Almost simultaneously, with a thunderous boom, a stone pillar crashed down.

This section of the intestinal passage was very narrow, just wide enough for two people to walk side by side. The stone pillar acted like a wedge, immediately blocking the passage completely.

Meng Qianzi was caught off guard and froze for a second or two before shouting, “Jinsong? Seventh Mother?”

There was no reply, or rather, there were extremely faint sounds. The other side must have erupted into chaos, but the mountain’s intestines absorbed sound too effectively to hear clearly.

Meng Qianzi felt a chill throughout her body. She remembered watching Meng Jinsong play video games when she was very young. In one game, a character navigated through winding mazes, sometimes encountering monsters, sometimes falling into traps, and sometimes watching seemingly open paths suddenly become blocked.

It was as if they were trapped in such a game now, inside these mountain intestines. Monsters would ambush them, and suddenly they would be separated.

There was nothing she could do; she couldn’t move the stone pillar. Meng Qianzi calmed herself for a moment and shouted, not caring whether the others could hear: “I’m fine. Let’s continue separately.”

After speaking, she took a deep breath, turned on her flashlight, and continued inward.

She was the Mountain Ghost Throne.

She could use the golden bells.

She was the one whom the ancestral grandmother had bestowed with the most talents.

Therefore, she should be the strongest. It didn’t matter. Even if she was alone, it didn’t matter.

…

The photosensitive marks appeared again.

More stick figures.

And messy characters writing “scared,” “want to go home,” “don’t cry.”

Meng Qianzi sighed, her palms slightly sweaty. Her other hand constantly pressed the trigger mechanism of her arm-mounted crossbow, ready to fire at any moment.

Suddenly, her flashlight beam fell upon a person.

Meng Qianzi maintained her composure, but her heart nearly stopped.

She almost thought it was a bear!

Looking closer, she realized it was a person. However, this person wore a large fur-lined pelt robe and a Tibetan-style, extremely warm fur felt hat. They were huddled in a corner, curled up in a ball. Because the pelt and felt hat were mostly grayish-brown, she had initially mistaken them for a bear.

This wasn’t a mountain household member. How could there be someone else in these mountain intestines?

Meng Qianzi released her crossbow and drew her gun, shouting, “Who’s there? Turn around!”

The person shrank back again, then, after a moment, tremblingly raised both hands above their head, holding an old-fashioned British-style flat silver flask.

Meng Qianzi looked at the person’s face.

Damn it, it was Shi Xiaohai!

She was furious: “Where the hell did you get this fur outfit?”

Shi Xiaohai was almost in tears from fear: “I… I found it.”

Meng Qianzi yelled at him: “Bullshit! Why didn’t I find anything like…”

She suddenly fell silent.

Shi Xiaohai’s clothes looked familiar. She seemed to have seen them somewhere recently.

In a flash, Meng Qianzi remembered.

Yama!

In last night’s mountain mirage, Yama, riding on the yak, had been wearing exactly this outfit!