The drive to Shi He took about a day and a half.

Though Yan Tuo wasn’t unfamiliar with Shi He, entering the mountain forest through this route was his first time.

Xing Shen had arranged for two people to meet them at the mountain entrance: one was an old acquaintance, Shan Qiang, and the other was an unfamiliar man in his twenties named Sun Li, who had previously traveled through Qing Rang and knew the route well.

“Once a stranger, twice an old friend,” Shan Qiang greeted Yan Tuo with a smile, then looked at Nie Jiuluo: “And who might this be?”

He didn’t know about Nie Jiuluo’s existence; Xing Shen hadn’t mentioned her.

Yan Tuo said: “My… girlfriend, Miss Luo.”

Shan Qiang made an “oh” sound, wondering why they were bringing such a delicate young woman inside: “The journey ahead is… quite difficult. Will Miss Luo be coming with us, or waiting here?”

Yan Tuo: “She’s coming with us.”

Shan Qiang understood then – this Miss Luo must have some abilities. The day before, when Yu Rong brought Que Cha along, he had also expressed surprise, but after Que Cha demonstrated her skills, he’d kept quiet.

He believed anyone entering the mountains must know their capabilities.

He explained to the two: “From here, it’s normally a two-day journey, but if we don’t sleep at night, we can save more than half a day. Brother Shen said the sooner we arrive the better, especially since… Lin Xiruo has already gotten ahead of us.”

Yan Tuo had no objections, and Nie Jiuluo also indicated she was fine with it.

They only needed to bring essential luggage, traveling relatively light. The only trouble was Chen Fu.

This hot potato had been in her possession for a long time. She wanted to hand him over to Xing Shen to deal with as he saw fit – whether to kill him, torture him, or use him as bait.

But carrying a box containing a person through mountain paths would be incredibly heavy.

Since Chen Fu was only in a daze rather than unconscious, Shan Qiang had a sudden idea: “Can we make him walk?”

And so the group of five set out, with Sun Li leading the way and Shan Qiang guiding the bound Chen Fu in the middle. Though they were unlikely to encounter others in these mountains, they cautiously kept a mask on Chen Fu’s face as a precaution.

Yan Tuo and Nie Jiuluo brought up the rear.

They entered the mountains in the afternoon, with the sun gradually setting. Much of their time was spent traversing dense forest – the woods were already dark, becoming increasingly eerie as they proceeded.

Nie Jiuluo felt uneasy, frequently glancing around.

Yan Tuo noticed and asked: “What’s wrong?”

Nie Jiuluo said: “It would be terrible if Lin Xiruo has people lying in ambush here.”

Yan Tuo looked around, also feeling uncertain. He called out to Shan Qiang ahead: “Could Lin Xiruo have already learned this route and set up an ambush for us?”

He felt it wasn’t impossible: so many people in Jiang Baichuan’s group had fallen into Lin Xiruo’s hands. If even one or two weren’t tight-lipped, this route might have been exposed.

Shan Qiang laughed: “Don’t worry, we were concerned about this before entering the mountains too. But in the past decade, this route to Qing Rang has only been traveled two or three times. It’s so complex, who could remember it? Even when Uncle Jiang led the team, he mainly relied on maps. Besides, Brother Shen’s group has already gone in, and Yu Rong’s group went through yesterday – both passed safely.”

Ah, so that’s how it is. Nie Jiuluo relaxed slightly, but after walking a bit further, she suddenly remembered something and asked Yan Tuo: “Didn’t you mention that Lin Xiruo entered the mountains in September last year?”

Yan Tuo nodded: “Not just last year, the year before too. She seems to spend some time here every year. That’s why she has multiple hideouts in Shi He, and even knows about obscure places like Nanba Houtou.”

Nie Jiuluo wondered: “Her entrance is at the mine shaft, so why does she keep coming to the mountains around Shi He?”

This question stumped Yan Tuo. Lin Xiruo had previously kidnapped people from these mountains, and he had assumed she might be searching for blood vessels – people disappearing in the mountains wouldn’t easily attract outside attention.

But this theory didn’t hold up under scrutiny: over twenty years, she had only used about a dozen blood vessels, less than one per year on average. Was it worth the trouble of mobilizing forces to enter the mountains every year?

As he pondered this, Nie Jiuluo suddenly suggested: “Could she be searching for Jin Ren Gate and the Bandaged Army?”

Yan Tuo thought this was possible: Lin Xiruo knew about the legend of the Bandaged Army and had encountered them up close, even losing her son. All these years, she had been searching.

However, these mountains were vast, and the period was too long. The two groups, scattered across different points on the timeline, had never met.

…

Initially, Nie Jiuluo could keep up with the pace, but later it became more difficult. Yan Tuo first held her hand as they walked, then supported her arm, helping her as much as possible. Fortunately, night fell soon, and with darkness came slower progress, which served as an indirect rest for her.

The mountain forest at night was terrifying. When the wind blew, branches and leaves rustled violently, as if evil spirits lurked everywhere. The flashlight beam was weak and thin, seeming to tremble with each sweep.

As they walked, a piercing howl suddenly echoed from the distance, like an owl’s cry or a ghost’s wail, sending chills down their spines.

Beast calls at night in deep mountains wasn’t unusual, and this one sounded very distant, making an encounter unlikely. However, the sudden sound was so startling that everyone almost simultaneously stopped in their tracks.

Shan Qiang swallowed and asked Sun Li: “You brought guns, right?”

Sun Li said: “Yes, and I have insecticide and firecrackers in my bag.”

The insecticide was for making fire, and the firecrackers were for creating noise – more than enough to drive away wild beasts.

Shan Qiang felt reassured. With these items, they could handle not just wolves but even a bear. He habitually tugged the rope: “Let’s go.”

Unexpectedly, the rope went taut – Chen Fu was standing rigid, refusing to move. Caught off guard by this resistance, Shan Qiang nearly stumbled.

Throughout the journey, Chen Fu stopped when told to stop and walked when told to walk, more obedient than a domesticated dog. Though slow to respond, after a few kicks from Shan Qiang, he had managed to keep pace. This was the first time he had refused to walk when pulled.

Shan Qiang started to get angry: “Hey, you…”

Before he could finish, Yan Tuo interrupted quietly: “Be careful, something’s wrong with him.”

Shan Qiang’s heart chilled, and he swallowed the rest of his words.

Something was indeed wrong. Previously, Chen Fu had appeared soulless and zombie-like, but now he seemed to be regaining consciousness. His eyeballs were moving frantically, his neck stiffly turning left and right, as if urgently searching for something.

Just then, another long howl pierced the air.

Chen Fu’s whole body tensed, and he suddenly turned toward the sound.

In that split second, Nie Jiuluo swung off her backpack and smashed it into Chen Fu’s face. Though her load wasn’t heavy, the backpack weighed at least as much as two bricks. The impact nearly caved in half of Chen Fu’s face, with blood seeping through the mask under his nose. He staggered backward and fell to the ground with a thud.

Shan Qiang jumped in shock: “Miss Luo, what…”

Nie Jiuluo glared at him: “Didn’t you see he was about to shout? Were you going to wait until he started howling back and forth with whatever’s out there, attracting demons and monsters?”

Holy shit, he was about to shout? Shan Qiang shuddered and quickly knelt to cover Chen Fu’s mouth. Sun Li hurriedly pulled out a piece of clothing from his backpack, rolled it up as a gag, and stuffed it in Chen Fu’s mouth.

Yan Tuo reminded them: “Plug his ears too – he started acting strange after hearing that sound.”

Sun Li scrambled to comply.

Chen Fu struggled with muffled sounds for a while before finally settling down.

Another gust of wind swept through, rustling the surrounding trees. An eerie restlessness permeated the terrifying silence. Shan Qiang’s whole body was covered in goosebumps as he asked shakily: “Why did he try to call back when that thing howled? Could they be… the same kind?”

Sun Li was also nervous: “This route should be safe. The previous two groups passed through safely, both traveling at night, and we didn’t hear about any problems.”

Yan Tuo asked him: “Are there any strange places nearby?”

Sun Li shook his head.

He didn’t know – when traveling through mountains, they always hurriedly followed the path. Who had time to explore the surroundings?

Nie Jiuluo didn’t think it was nearby: “Sound carries far in the mountains. What seems close might be quite distant.”

She pointed in the direction of the sound: “In that direction, is there anything special?”

Something special?

As Shan Qiang frowned in thought, Sun Li suddenly remembered something and quietly reminded him: “Nanba Houtou.”

Oh, right, Nanba Houtou.

Shan Qiang stammered: “That’s where Lin Xiruo kept asking us to exchange people, but we never went. Later she hanged Limp… Limp Father there…”

Before he could finish, chills crawled up his spine: could it be the restless spirits of Limp Father and the others haunting the place?

Yan Tuo spoke in a low voice: “There’s probably something at Nanba Houtou. Let’s not worry about it now. Dim the lights and hurry on – we’ll deal with it after we join the main group.”

After this incident, everyone remained highly alert, walking quickly and only stopping briefly when exhausted. Though Chen Fu was a major burden, at least he didn’t cause any more trouble.

They maintained this pace until dawn, seemingly fleeing not just from the terrifying howls but also from the pitch-black night itself.

Once daylight broke, everything felt better.

Traveling during the day was relatively more relaxing. Along the way, Shan Qiang pointed out a village to them, mostly reduced to crumbling walls and tiles, nestled in a mountain hollow. Even in broad daylight, it remained as silent as a ghost village. Shan Qiang explained this was Village Four – the Bandaged Army’s village had relocated eight times in total, and this was their fourth location.

Their current destination was the initial Village Zero, also known as Old Qin Village.

…

As the sun was about to set, Nie Jiuluo hadn’t slept for over twenty-four hours. She was yawning continuously, her steps becoming unsteady.

Just as Yan Tuo was about to suggest to Shan Qiang that they stop for rest, Shan Qiang excitedly waved his hand: “We’re here, almost there, that’s it.”

Where? Nie Jiuluo forced herself to look.

There was nothing there.

With two groups already having entered, shouldn’t there be some semblance of a camp and signs of life?

There was nothing, absolutely nothing.

She looked ahead, then around: “Where’s Old Qin Village?”

Shan Qiang pointed to a patch of wilderness nearby: “There, right there. Back then, building houses in the mountains, they couldn’t fire bricks. Everything was made of wood, thatch, and mud bricks. After so many years of wind and rain, no traces remain.”

Sensing what she might ask next, he added: “This way, everyone’s over there.”

After walking for about fifteen minutes more, they came upon a huge cave.

It was enormous but conspicuous – if you imagined the mountain as an upturned ice cream cone, the cave was like someone had scooped out a chunk from the base with a dinner spoon, forming a dome shape.

Upon entering, Nie Jiuluo first noticed the ceiling: anyone with trypanophobia would certainly find this place unbearable. The domed walls were covered in numerous hollows, though not deep, each roughly large enough to hold a curled-up adult.

How did a normal cave end up like this?

Yan Tuo had the same thought: “Is this naturally formed?”

Shan Qiang: “No, it was modified, using the cave’s original shape to create this.”

Nie Jiuluo looked again: “What’s the purpose of modifying it like this?”

Shan Qiang’s eyes widened: “It has meaning! This is the sky, a star map.”

Stars?

Nie Jiuluo looked up again. Come to think of it, once you accepted this premise, calling it a “sky” made sense: during the Qin Dynasty, mountain aesthetics were relatively simple – you couldn’t expect sophistication – carving hollows in the dome could indeed pass for stars.

Shan Qiang chuckled: “When we travel through Qing Rang to enter Black and White Rapids, we’ll need to go underground. Most people would search endlessly on the ground, trying to find a downward entrance. But our entrance, surprisingly, is up there.”

He raised his hand, pointing to a hollow above: “See that one? That’s the initial entrance.”

Nie Jiuluo looked up.

The hollow wasn’t exactly directly overhead, but it was close enough.