Xing Shen’s heart skipped a beat, and he stopped.
As he stopped, others followed suit. Though Yan Tuo was at the front, he had been paying attention to the surroundings and, noticing the footsteps behind had ceased, immediately turned around.
Feng Mi gave a cold laugh, her tone contemptuous despite being unclear: “Let them… follow if they want. As long as they… can’t see you when you hide. Wolves chase rabbits… relentlessly too, but if the rabbit doesn’t disappear… right under the wolf’s nose, how will the wolf find it… in such vast grasslands?”
This seemed to make sense, but Datou looked at Feng Mi suspiciously: “Brother Shen, can we trust this woman? She’s an Earth Hawk who’s killed our people, and you shot her too. Who knows if she’s leading us into a trap for revenge?”
Xing Shen felt his head pounding, finding both Feng Mi’s logic and Datou’s concerns reasonable.
Feng Mi couldn’t even be bothered to look at Datou: “If you don’t trust me… then don’t follow.”
The underground was vast—go wherever you want.
Xing Shen’s temple throbbed: making decisions amid conflicting opinions was difficult. Had Uncle Jiang, who’d led for a lifetime, ever faced such a dangerous situation? Why did it have to fall on him?
Looking up, he saw Nie Jiuluo had also stopped, standing high on a battlement, loosely holding her dagger while scanning all directions. She truly looked down on everyone now, not even bothering to glance their way.
Regardless, as the backbone of the group, he had to make a decision. Xing Shen steadied himself: “Let’s go to the creek, try not to stop, and hurry.”
They couldn’t afford to waste time. If they delayed until Nie Jiuluo couldn’t hold on anymore, all their efforts would be wasted.
***
Feng Mi hadn’t lied. After walking for about half an hour, passing through countless terra-cotta warriors, the sound of water became increasingly clear among the wind.
The creek formed the boundary wall on the “white” side of the Black-White Creek and represented the underground limit for humans. After all, crossing the creek meant becoming a “human-turned-Owl Ghost.”
Truthfully, the sound of water wasn’t what was shocking—it was the terrifying sense of boundary, along with the legend of Goddess Nüwa’s collapse behind the creek. Yan Tuo felt his hair stand on end as he asked quietly: “Does the creek dry up during the dry season?”
Having rested for a while, Feng Mi could finally speak without pausing: “It used to, long ago, but after two thousand years, the groundwater level is different. Now, even in the dry season, the water flow is still significant—when Aunt Lin fled with her child, it was July or August, crossing during flood season, which left her with chronic illness. Every year during this time, she feels unwell.”
Yan Tuo thought back and realized it was true: every year during late summer and early autumn, Lin Xirou would suffer from headaches, drowsiness, and lethargy. Previously, he hadn’t paid much attention, assuming it was just the ailments of someone living too comfortably—a rich person’s illness.
However, he didn’t miss the key word in Feng Mi’s speech: “Fled?”
Feng Mi hesitated: “Yan Tuo, actually Aunt Lin…”
Before she could finish, Nie Jiuluo suddenly whistled sharply from above, then sprinted forward, leaping across two battlements before dropping to the ground.
Having worked with Nie Jiuluo before, Xing Shen was familiar with her gestures and whistles. He immediately raised his hand: “Stop, something’s up!”
The group’s tension had somewhat relaxed during their journey, but hearing this, it immediately returned. Someone shakily shone their flashlight in Nie Jiuluo’s direction.
There was indeed something, though not dangerous. In the flashlight beam, Yan Tuo could see from afar what appeared to be two people embracing each other in front of Nie Jiuluo.
He couldn’t make out who they were, but in that instant, a sense of familiarity washed over him. Then, Feng Mi’s breathing suddenly became rapid as she trembled and said: “Brother… Brother Xiong.”
Xiong Hei?
Yan Tuo’s scalp tingled, and he unconsciously walked forward. Xing Shen saw him moving and initially wanted to stop him, but then thought since Nie Jiuluo was there, nothing serious would happen, so he let it be.
Getting closer, it was Xiong Hei, and not just him—someone was lying on top of him, with snow-white hair, likely a White-Eyed Ghost.
They weren’t exactly embracing—that was just a visual illusion from far away.
More accurately, Xiong Hei was leaning against a dirt mound, his right hand had violently pierced through the White-Eyed Ghost’s chest, covered in blood, while one of the Ghost’s hands was thrust straight into Xiong Hei’s skull up to the wrist.
The smell of blood assaulted their nostrils, seeming to remind them of the brutality of this unseen, nearly mutual destruction. The White-Eyed Ghost was most likely dead, but Xiong Hei wasn’t yet.
His eyeballs were eerily rolled to one side, his head twitching constantly. Because the hand was still stuck in his skull, each head movement caused the wrist to move with it—someone unfamiliar with the situation might think the hand was turning Xiong Hei’s head.
No wonder Nie Jiuluo had stopped—this was indeed a “situation.”
Feng Mi suddenly released her grip around Yan Tuo’s neck: “Put me down.”
Yan Tuo didn’t need to “put her down”—as soon as she let go, she naturally fell to the ground. Yan Tuo was startled by her fall and was about to help her up, but Feng Mi, disregarding everything, crawled towards Xiong Hei using both hands and feet, fighting through her gunshot wound.
Yan Tuo couldn’t stop her, but he looked at Nie Jiuluo beside him, carefully calling out: “Ah Luo?”
Nie Jiuluo glanced at him sideways, her voice distant: “Hm?”
Yan Tuo sighed internally: Nie Jiuluo’s eyes were bloodshot with a light red layer, her expression extremely excited, like someone drunk or high. Though her sidelong glance showed she knew who he was, she treated him like a nobody.
Behind them, whispers could be heard.
“Unbelievable, these Earth Hawks must be sick in the head. They set up this meeting place, and before we could even make a move, they’d already gotten themselves killed.”
“That Lin Xirou must be finished too, right? What was it all for? So desperate to eliminate us that she’d sacrifice herself too?”
Yan Tuo’s brows furrowed.
This was his confusion too—hadn’t Lin Xirou considered the risk of White-Eyed Ghosts and Owl Ghosts when choosing the final exchange location?
He looked up at Xiong Hei. Feng Mi was struggling to prop herself up, whispering in Xiong Hei’s ear.
Though he couldn’t hear what Feng Mi said, Yan Tuo noticed that Xiong Hei’s already vacant, dull eyes seemed to flash with joy for just a moment.
Why was that? Was it his imagination?
He tried to look closer, but it was too late: Feng Mi suddenly reached out with both hands, grabbed Xiong Hei’s head, and violently twisted it to the side.
With a crack, Xiong Hei’s head drooped down.
Behind them came the sound of several sharp intakes of breath.
The “situation” was resolved. Nie Jiuluo stepped back, then with a quick sprint, leaped back onto the battlement.
Xing Shen exhaled and called to everyone: “Let’s go!”
Yan Tuo once again carried Feng Mi on his back, but couldn’t help looking back at Xiong Hei one last time.
He remembered when he was held captive in the abandoned building, during the cold weather, Xiong Hei had gotten him a small heater. Its power was really strong, blowing at him all night. Everything about it was good except it made his face too dry.
***
Finally, the creek came into view.
It was a boundary river crossing the underground, its length unknown, but its width was about fifteen or sixteen meters. Both sides had high battlements and dirt mounds, with about ten ropes of unknown material stretched between opposing battlements, spanning across the river surface, swaying precariously.
The White-Eyed Ghosts and their kind probably used these rope bridges to cross the creek.
Usually, underground rivers are relatively calm, but not here, for two reasons.
First, the terrain here was like terraced fields with elevation differences, causing the upstream creek water to fall like a waterfall in two stages before rushing downstream. Second, perhaps because it was winter turning to spring, the first melting snow water had begun flowing, making the water volume considerable.
In Lin Xirou’s words, this stage was merely “water gradually rising, but not yet high”—it was hard to imagine how turbulent this underground river would become in spring and summer.
However, the problem was that aside from this creek, everything else looked the same as along their route—the same tiresome terra-cotta warriors, battlements, dirt mounds, and rocks.
Where was there any place to hide?
Xing Shen urgently pressed Feng Mi: “Then what? Where do we go?”
Feng Mi said: “This is it. I suggest posting a sentinel up high—if the White-Eyed Ghosts spot us, it won’t be good.”
That made sense—a rabbit can’t let the wolf see where it’s hiding.
Xing Shen called out to Nie Jiuluo: “Ah Luo, get to a high point and watch all directions, guard against White-Eyed Ghosts suddenly appearing.”
As he spoke, he ran to the nearest battlement and quickly climbed up: his eyes were even better than Nie Jiuluo’s at this moment.
Nothing—at least for now, within visible range, the dead objects were just dead objects, with no unusual light outlines.
Following custom, with Xing Shen gone, Datou became the leader. He urged Feng Mi: “Where is it? Do you have an underground cave?”
Feng Mi completely ignored him—talking to these creatures would be a waste of her breath.
She spoke softly to Yan Tuo: “Walk forward, keep going, to the river bank.”
Easy for her to say, but Yan Tuo was apprehensive: with such a creek, while he was carrying Feng Mi, one small movement from her at the edge could drag them both to a watery grave.
So he walked hesitantly. Feng Mi seemed to notice this and smiled wistfully, saying: “When we get close enough, put me down, so I don’t push you in.”
Yan Tuo felt embarrassed but still put her down.
Feng Mi sat on the ground, breathing somewhat unsteadily.
She said: “The water’s too strong. To prevent you from being swept away as soon as you go down, tie a rope around your waist and have someone stronghold it.”
Yan Tuo quickly tied the rope, tucking a folded glow stick in his waist for visibility. The other end of the rope was originally meant for Datou, but after hesitating, he threw it to Yu Rong.
Yu Rong caught it deftly, and for extra security, stepped on the rope while wrapping it several times around her arm. She called to those nearby: “Come here, help hold it.”
Feng Mi raised her hand to indicate a position: “There, feel down from there, can you find a protruding rock?”
Yan Tuo walked over, and before he even got close, his whole body was already almost soaked.
This spot was right next to where the creek water fell from the height difference. The small “waterfall” had been beaten into white foam by the consecutive drops, spraying everywhere like mist, making it almost impossible to keep one’s eyes open.
Yan Tuo closed his eyes, knelt, and reached out to feel along the inner bank.
The creek water was ice-cold, making him shiver uncontrollably, but there it was—a protruding rock.
The water was too loud, so Feng Mi had to move closer and raise her voice for him to hear: “Grab this rock with your right hand, push down with your right leg, you’ll find another protruding rock to stand on, then you’ll get the trick—the route goes diagonally down to the left, about three or four meters down, there’s an opening, just go in—the opening is hidden behind the waterfall, can’t be seen from outside. After you go in, the others can take the easy way, just sliding down the rope, but the water current will toss them around, so reach out and pull them in when needed.”
Yan Tuo understood. He took a deep breath and pushed down as instructed.
It was terrifying, essentially putting his body directly in the water flow. One of his ears instantly filled with water, blocking all sound.
Yan Tuo clenched his teeth, gripped tightly with both hands, kept his eyes shut, and searched for footing to the lower left. His entire body, inside and out, was completely soaked.
His posture must have looked ridiculous—he felt like a frog desperately clinging to a wall while being blasted by a maximum-power water hose.
One step, two steps… six steps.
The opening!
Yan Tuo suddenly let go and lunged inside. The cave floor was uneven, making him grimace, but at least he had reached solid ground.
Ignoring everything else, he quickly sat up and raised the glow stick to look around.
It was incredible—the cave wasn’t large, at most five or six square meters, able to squeeze in about a dozen people. In other words, it was a naturally formed cavity, but because it was hidden behind the waterfall, it was isolated from sight and smell.
No wonder Lin Xirou and her group had planned to hide here and wait out the White-Eyed Ghosts.
But how had she discovered this place?
As he pondered this, a dim light flickered through the water curtain, casting human-shaped shadows that swayed like leaves in the current.
They were lowering people down by rope. Yan Tuo steadied himself, aimed at the light’s position, and reached through the water flow to pull in the first person.