A thousand words boiled down to one phrase: thank the First Emperor.
If back then, instead of sending large numbers of Chan Tou Jun, he had sent an exploration team of about ten people, the subsequent story would likely have been completely rewritten.
Xing Shen suddenly thought of something: “But Lin Xirou still got out, and not through the Golden Gates.”
Yan Tuo laughed self-mockingly: “Blame my father for digging the coal mine too deep.”
Opening a new exit for the Di Xiao, letting out such a demon spawn.
Nie Jiuluo vaguely felt things weren’t so simple: “Don’t forget the great marsh in Xingbazi Village. The story of that young woman?”
That marsh was another exit, though that young woman was far inferior to Lin Xirou. Her “business” hadn’t even gotten started before things went wrong repeatedly, and finally, molten iron was poured down, welding the exit shut.
Indeed, Yan Tuo’s heart tightened: “We thought there were only four exits, so the Chan Tou Jun set up four gates. Looks like they didn’t find them all—how many are there?”
Xing Shen’s mind stirred, and he blurted out: “Seven.”
Nie Jiuluo was surprised: “How… how did you calculate that?”
Xing Shen said: “I just remembered Chan Tou Jun’s flying message, where the top was blood-soaked with only three characters remaining: ‘Kua’, ‘Fu’, and ‘Seven’.”
This reminded Yan Tuo: “Kua Fu’s Seven Fingers?”
Previously they couldn’t understand what “Kua Fu’s Seven Fingers” represented, but what if it referred to seven exits? In legend, Kua Fu was a giant who chased the sun. After falling, he kept digging with his hands, wearing down three fingers, leaving seven—each one becoming a passage to the outside world.
And that flying message was the Chan Tou Jun in the Black and White Rapids trying to warn their companions: there weren’t just four exits, but seven.
Nie Jiuluo felt a chill: “Seven exits—the Chan Tou Jun sealed four, molten iron sealed one, the Yan Mountain coal mine is one, so where’s the seventh? Where is the seventh exit?”
No one could answer.
This place wasn’t exactly scenic, and they couldn’t rest here indefinitely. After careful consideration, Xing Shen decided they should return to the Golden Gates.
They had come to “exchange people,” but now everyone was scattered, there was no point in exchanging anymore. They could only hope for good luck and perhaps pick up one or two companions on the way back.
No one objected. Though Yan Tuo wanted to find his sister, firstly, the area was too vast with no clear leads, and they didn’t bring much food; secondly, the situation was truly dangerous, and he couldn’t let personal matters endanger others.
First, survive, then make long-term plans.
…
The return to the Golden Gates was both smooth and not smooth.
It was smooth because of Xing Shen—his eyes were practically divine instruments here. Since he saw light rather than form, within visible range, no living thing or trace of movement could escape his eyes.
Nie Jiuluo felt somewhat emotional. Back when she had raged about Xing Shen ruining his eyes, she never dreamed that one day, she would be grateful for these eyes of his.
The difficulty lay in the route. The terrain below was already complex, and the map was crude. Even holding the map, they had to search slowly. After that scattered fleeing earlier, they were lost. Trying to reconnect with their previous route wasn’t easy.
A group of ten-plus people moved as quietly as possible, guided only by two dim light sticks front and back. Xing Shen would climb high mounds periodically to look around—after all, height was needed for distance viewing.
Nie Jiuluo walked hand in hand with Yan Tuo, listening to the whispers of those ahead.
—”Really, we’ve walked so far, why haven’t we seen any of our scattered people?”
—”They weren’t all taken out by those white-whatever ghosts, were they?”
—”Do you think the Bai Tong Gui can talk? If they could, we might communicate with them.”
Yan Tuo suddenly raised his hand and tapped the shoulder of the person in front: “Excuse me, when you encountered the Bai Tong Gui, did you see if there were any children among them?”
The person kept walking: “Who had time to notice? We were too busy running. Only saw those white eyeballs in the darkness.”
He helped tap someone further ahead: “Hey, were there any children among those white-eyed ghosts?”
One by one he asked, getting several negative answers.
Seems not, then. Yan Tuo said thanks and fell silent.
Nie Jiuluo’s thoughts stirred: Would her mother Pei Ke be among the Bai Tong Gui?
The next second, she found herself amusing, found both herself and Yan Tuo amusing: unable to find what they sought, directionless, they were becoming superstitious, suspecting everything they saw.
Just then, Xing Shen, who had just climbed a high mound ahead, suddenly flattened himself against the ground and let out an extremely low whistle.
Even without the whistle, his body language alone indicated trouble ahead. Everyone’s emergency response was quick—instantly scattering left and right, guns ready, backs pressed against earthen mounds or stones, not daring to breathe.
After several seconds, Shan Qiang couldn’t hold back anymore and whispered hoarsely: “Brother Shen, what is it?”
Xing Shen didn’t answer, just waved his hand, probably telling everyone to stay quiet. After a while, still prone, he slowly moved to the edge of the platform, then lightly jumped down, covered in dust.
Datou was anxious: “What’s the situation?”
“Bai Tong Gui, moving in a fan formation to encircle this direction. We can’t pass through.”
Fan formation to encircle?
The situation was too bizarre. Nie Jiuluo’s scalp tingled: “How many are there?”
Xing Shen thought carefully.
“Ones with actual white eyeballs, I only saw five, but on either side of the Bai Tong Gui, there were…”
He paused here—the things besides the Bai Tong Gui were hard to describe, and since he mainly saw outlines and light, with no details, it was even harder to explain: “The things on their sides moved on all fours, like trained beasts. Each Bai Tong Gui had two, fifteen total, spaced apart at intervals, forming a large fan shape, moving this way, basically cutting off our path in that direction.”
Someone immediately panicked: “Then, then what do we do? The Golden Gates are in that direction!”
Xing Shen remained calm: “It’s fine, there’s plenty of space below. Let’s change direction, walk a bit further, and try to go around them.”
That was their only option. Everyone first retreated along their original path, then after some distance, turned perpendicular to their planned direction. Theoretically, if they walked far enough and made another perpendicular turn, they could move parallel and perfectly avoid the threat.
This time, they walked with even more tension.
Yan Tuo asked Nie Jiuluo quietly: “One Bai Tong Gui with two of something—could they be Xiao Gui?”
Down here, there were only so many possibilities: humans, human-form Di Xiao like Lin Xirou, original Di Xiao, Bai Tong Gui, and Xiao Gui.
They’d seen all but the Xiao Gui.
Nie Jiuluo couldn’t be sure: “I guess we’ll know when we see them.”
After walking for about half an hour, something unexpected happened.
As usual, Xing Shen suddenly flattened himself on the high mound, carefully observed, then came down to inform them that the Bai Tong Gui had appeared again—same one-to-two pattern, five Bai Tong Gui plus fifteen trained beasts on their flanks, moving in a fan formation to encircle this direction.
This direction was also blocked.
“What the hell,” Datou raged, “What does this mean? Do they have patrol squads? One squad there, another squad here?”
Xing Shen was silent for a moment, then said: “Not good.”
He crouched down, told Shan Qiang to bring the light stick closer, and then drew it into the ground to demonstrate to everyone.
First, he drew a straight line: “This is the Black and White Rapids.”
Then he made several random dots above the line: “This is us. We definitely can’t cross the Black and White Rapids, so it’s like a wall behind us.”
Finally, he drew a backward semicircle: “This is the Bai Tong Gui’s encirclement.”
The drawing was crude, but everyone understood. Shan Qiang stared in disbelief, stuttering: “W-what does this mean? They’re… they’re hunting us in an organized way?”
Nie Jiuluo pondered: “It’s like the Ba Shan hunters’ method.”
Ba Shan hunters excelled at “encirclement hunting,” driving prey to designated areas where waiting hunters would slaughter them one by one.
Shan Qiang was still confused: “But why are they hunting us?”
No one answered. Who could know what the Bai Tong Gui wanted? Everyone was encountering these things for the first time.
Yan Tuo felt regretful—if he’d known earlier, he would have asked Lin Xirou more about the Bai Tong Gui. She had mentioned they were created by humans, so she likely knew the inside story.
Datou steeled himself: “Well, instead of fearing wolves ahead and tigers behind, let’s pick a direction and fight our way through.”
Xing Shen shook his head.
Breaking through would be suicide. They’d already encountered two teams of Bai Tong Gui in two directions. The enemy had a numerical advantage, and once engaged, nearby Bai Tong Gui would surely come as reinforcements—it would be an n-fold slaughter.
Someone had a sudden inspiration: “Or we could find cover right here, hide ourselves, and continue our journey after they pass?”
Xing Shen still shook his head: “Can you be sure the Bai Tong Gui rely on sight? Maybe they sense by smell or heat—where could you hide from that?”
The person was stumped: “Then… Brother Shen, what should we do?”
Brother Shen—they all called him that, looking to him for solutions. Who made him the team leader?
Xing Shen hesitated: “Avoid their main force, first… retreat.”
Yan Tuo felt this was unwise: “Retreat toward the Black and White Rapids? You can’t cross it, and as they get closer, won’t their encirclement just get smaller?”
Xing Shen said: “The encirclement is getting smaller anyway. If we’re going to face them either way, better to retreat first. While we still have time, find advantageous terrain for a defensive battle. That’s better than being ambushed or fighting an encounter battle.”
A defensive battle was indeed feasible. Everyone had guns, and if they could find shelter as solid as a bunker, whether facing five or fifty Bai Tong Gui, it would be much easier to deal with them.
After hurrying along, they reached the familiar clay figure cluster, but the terrain here was mediocre, unsuitable for defense. The group continued deeper while looking around: theoretically, as long as the clay figures were present, things should be fine.
As they walked, suddenly gunshots rang out from the direction of the Black and White Rapids.
Everyone’s bodies tensed, almost simultaneously dropping to the ground. Someone blurted out: “Is that Yu Rong’s group?”
Yan Tuo initially thought it was Yu Rong, but then realized something was wrong: Yu Rong’s group was Chan Tou Jun, well aware of the Black and White Rapids’ dangers—no matter how panicked, they wouldn’t run deeper in…
It was Lin Xirou! Much more likely to be Lin Xirou!
Whether facing Bai Tong Gui or Lin Xirou meant fighting, but given the choice, fighting Lin Xirou made more sense—he had no grudge against the Bai Tong Gui, but Lin Xirou was different.
He sprang up: “I’ll go look!”
Yan Tuo followed the gunshots, initially running in his excitement, but soon slowed down.
The reason was simple—he couldn’t see.
It got darker the deeper they went. With Xing Shen’s group, the light sticks had made visibility no obstacle, but once beyond their range, every step was difficult.
Yan Tuo sighed, half-groping forward. Just as he grew anxious, he heard Nie Jiuluo’s low voice from behind: “Yan Tuo?”
Aluo?
Yan Tuo started, then turned back.
He couldn’t see anything.
He called out: “Aluo?”
At the same time, he reached into the darkness.
Soon, the rustle of footsteps approached, and Nie Jiuluo grabbed his hand, drawing close.
Yan Tuo was surprised: “Why did you come?”
Nie Jiuluo spoke irritably: “Why did I come? Let you go alone? Xing Shen’s group has important business, and no one else to watch you, of course, I came.”
Yan Tuo’s face flushed, but his heart warmed: he had indeed been rash, acting on impulse without thinking things through.
Just as he was about to say something, Nie Jiuluo made a soft shushing sound.
Yan Tuo immediately grew alert. Listening carefully, the gunshots had stopped, but there were hurried footsteps approaching. Suddenly there was a loud crash—probably knocking over a clay figure. The footsteps stopped, followed by heavy breathing.
After a moment, Feng Mi’s voice rang out: “Aunt Lin, what about… what about Brother Xiong? He’s alone back there holding them off. If something happens… are we just abandoning him?”
Lin Xirou: “Don’t know. It’s up to fate now, hope he’s alright.”
Feng Mi was still catching her breath: “The Bai Tong Gui are… hunting us? This time, can we still get out?”
“We can get out. Don’t panic first—even if they form an iron bucket formation, we can still get out.”
Feng Mi relaxed slightly: “Where do we go now?”
“Try to circle to the rapids water.”
Rapids water? Sounding like a river—Nie Jiuluo recalled earlier hearing water mixed with the wind. She hadn’t expected there to be water down here.
Yan Tuo leaned close to Nie Jiuluo’s ear, almost touching it: “This time, we can’t let Lin Xirou escape.”
Nie Jiuluo nodded—they couldn’t let Lin Xirou go: partly for Yan Tuo’s sake, partly because they could get more information about the Bai Tong Gui from her.
With Xiong Hei absent, taking action would be relatively easier, but the question was how? There was still some distance, and they couldn’t see.
Yan Tuo had a flashlight, but using strong light was too risky.
He thought for a moment, then asked quietly: “You’ve had training—can you determine someone’s general position by sound?”
Nie Jiuluo made an affirmative sound.
That made things easier. Yan Tuo gently pushed her away, then suddenly spoke: “Aunt Lin, don’t move. The gun’s aimed at your head.”
Lin Xirou’s group had indeed encountered the Bai Tong Gui. Xiong Hei covered their retreat, letting her and Feng Mi escape—as for Li Yueying, she had already disappeared in the chaos when Nie Jiuluo slapped her.
She and Feng Mi had fled desperately, finally escaping danger to what they thought was safety. Just as they caught their breath, suddenly hearing Yan Tuo’s voice was truly chilling.
Nie Jiuluo quietly swallowed, hands reaching forward into the void, carefully listening for sounds from Lin Xirou’s direction.
Lin Xirou spoke in disbelief: “Yan Tuo?”
With this guidance, Nie Jiuluo moved forward toe-first, gradually shifting from light to firm steps: her reaching hands were to avoid hitting things, her tentative steps to avoid slipping or stepping into emptiness.
Yan Tuo chuckled: “Surprised, Aunt Lin? Stay quiet—the gun has night vision, I can see your head very clearly.”
Lin Xirou tried to speak but couldn’t, just cleared her throat impatiently.
Nie Jiuluo continued moving closer.
Yan Tuo held his gun, but unfortunately, the equipment wasn’t as advanced as he claimed—no night vision scope, though there might be one in his bag he couldn’t reach now.
He could only bluff: “What a coincidence meeting here. Aunt Lin, as you’d say, it’s fate—we truly have a connection.”
Lin Xirou laughed coldly: “What, still want to ask why only your father is a Chang Gui?”
He had many questions—let her talk about whichever she wanted. As long as she kept talking, Nie Jiuluo could keep correcting her position.
Yan Tuo: “Yeah, I just have those few questions. Can’t figure them out, keeps me up at night.”
Lin Xirou spoke flatly: “Actually, once explained, it’s simple.”
“Di Xiao has lived in darkness so long their eyes degenerated—we don’t need eyes. But becoming human is different. Without eyes, how can you see in sunlight?”
“Eyes are the last organ we develop. Being able to open them marks the completion of the transformation, and shortly after opening them, the first person to see these eyes becomes a Chang Gui.”
“The reason? I can’t explain clearly. You might understand it this way—many animals view the first creature they see at birth as their parent, like newly hatched birds. Even if they see not their kind but a predator that killed their parents, they’ll treat it as family, worship, and love it. It’s called ‘imprinting.’ Chang Gui is similar, just reversed.”
“Because of this first-sight effect, with continuous guidance, they naturally become loyal and obedient. Like your father—one wave of my finger and he comes like a dog…”
Yan Tuo’s eyes tightened, but before he could speak, there was a thud of a body slam hitting the ground, followed by the crisp, powerful sound of a slap.
Another slap?
A thought flashed through Yan Tuo’s mind…
My girlfriend is something.