One shouldn’t think of such dispiriting thoughts when facing an enemy.

Nie Jiuluo steadied herself, vigilantly scanning her surroundings: the squad that had retreated hadn’t gone far, and the two newly arrived squads hadn’t pressed too close either. Overall, they had all stopped at a distance from her.

Was this a three-sided encirclement?

Nie Jiuluo’s palms grew damp: she was confident in fighting multiple opponents, but against these numbers, she saw virtually no chance of victory.

Better make the most of the time then, taking down as many as possible before her strength wanes and she becomes helpless against them.

She swallowed hard, and just as she prepared to launch an attack, strange, guttural voices echoed around her.

She had heard this bizarre language and sound several times before but never understood it. However, she generally understood it was a form of communication and summoning—the White-Eyed Ghosts could make sounds, but their long underground existence had probably altered their laryngeal muscles and way of vocalization.

Moreover, as Lin Xirou had said, they didn’t speak the common tongue at all.

What were they doing now, discussing strategies to deal with her?

They thought highly of her—Nie Jiuluo even felt a hint of pride that she alone had caused them to be so cautious.

As these thoughts crossed her mind, suddenly an idea struck her.

Among so many White-Eyed Ghosts, there had to be a leader, right? As the saying goes, capture the leader to defeat the army. If she could take down their commander, she might be able to turn the tide of battle.

Nie Jiuluo’s heart raced with excitement as her gaze quickly swept across different directions. The White-Eyed Ghosts’ attire was too similar to distinguish any special figures, but she noticed that two squads unconsciously looked toward the third squad.

It was like how an audience naturally looks toward the podium when a leader speaks, regardless of where they stand.

Perfect—if there was a leader, they must be in the third squad.

Nie Jiuluo’s heart beat faster.

The third squad had four White-Eyed Ghosts and eight Owl Ghosts.

The Owl Ghosts were just soldiers, not worth focusing on. Among the four White-Eyed Ghosts, two had white hair, and two had… black hair. From this distance, she couldn’t make out their features clearly, but…

Nie Jiuluo’s heart skipped a beat: judging from the body shape, one of them was female!

She couldn’t be wrong—male and female silhouettes were too easy to distinguish. Moreover, this woman had a slender figure, and delicate shoulders, and showed no signs of being hunched with age.

A woman among them—the White-Eyed Ghosts was mostly transformed from the Qin Dynasty’s Wrapped-Head Army that entered the Black-White Ravine. In that era of male supremacy, women rarely served in the military. Could this one have been recruited from the Dog Clan?

While she was still pondering this, the woman suddenly raised her hand.

The attack began instantly—seven or eight arrow-tipped ropes whistled through the air, converging on her from all directions.

At such a moment, the only escape was upward. Nie Jiuluo pushed off hard from the ground, her body flipping upward. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that not all their forces were focused on her—each squad had divided roughly half their members to head toward the ravine water.

She immediately confirmed three things.

—They had indeed been communicating just now and understood her situation, knowing she had companions. Hence, they split their forces to continue searching for Xing Shen’s group, apparently aiming to catch everyone in one sweep.

—That woman was the leader.

—Previously, the White-Eyed Ghosts had only bound and injured people, never killing them. But now, probably because she had repeatedly slain their kind, they had developed killing intent toward her. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have launched seven or eight arrow ropes simultaneously.

Her leap had naturally caused the arrow ropes to miss, with two arrowheads even colliding and producing weak sparks. A flash of inspiration struck Nie Jiuluo as she descended. Transferring her blade to her left hand, her right hand made a mid-air sweeping motion, gathering most of the ropes. With three quick turns and two twists, she swiftly tied a knot.

The knot was makeshift, but since the ropes came from different directions, they naturally tangled together. The arrowheads wedged between the rope strands creating natural locks, while one end was knotted, the other end was still being pulled taut, forming what resembled a rope net.

Nie Jiuluo grabbed the rope and used it to propel herself toward the third squad of White-Eyed Ghosts, even stepping on the rope once more for additional momentum. The two White-Eyed Ghosts pulling the other end realized the danger and immediately let go.

But they were too late, and Nie Jiuluo was too fast: she pressed the mechanism on her blade handle, instantly splitting one blade into two. As she flew between the two White-Eyed Ghosts, both hands viciously swung the blades inward.

Whether she had slashed their throats or destroyed their eyes didn’t matter—what mattered was she had inflicted serious head and facial injuries. Nie Jiuluo didn’t bother to check, just flicked the blood off her blades as she landed and charged forward.

As said before, capture the leader to defeat the army—she wanted to maintain this momentum and take down that woman first.

Unfortunately, the woman stepped back, flickering briefly in her vision before being obscured—the Owl Ghosts had swarmed forward to protect her, and the White-Eyed Ghosts and Owl Ghosts from the other two squads were also charging in.

Nie Jiuluo let out a slight sigh internally.

She had hoped to strike at the vital point, taking a shortcut to seize the enemy’s command in one move.

Now, she would have to match force with force in a bloody battle.

She steeled herself, raised her blades, and struck down at the nearest Owl Ghost.

The beacon tower.

The battle had ceased, and people had departed, leaving only two or three untaken flashlights half-buried in the debris, their weak beams crossing to create an eerily peaceful atmosphere.

The pile of earth and ash in the corner moved slightly, countless fine particles of dust sliding down.

After a while, someone sat up through the dirt and dust, scattering the particles and making the flashlight beams even hazier.

Lin Xirou fought back a cough as she waved her hand to clear the dust from her nose and mouth.

All around was silence—whether human or ghost, they had all left. She had managed to outlast them.

Her ribs ached dully as she let out a long breath, reaching for the nearest flashlight and dimming its brightness.

Feng Mi had led them to the ravine water, so she couldn’t go there. She needed to head in the opposite direction, hopefully returning to the surface quickly.

After resting a moment, Lin Xirou stood up using the ruined wall for support, cautiously sweeping the flashlight around to check her surroundings.

The fallen figures were all clay statues; there wasn’t the imagined scene of corpses strewn about—they must have already cleared the area.

Just as she thought this, the flashlight beam suddenly passed over a bloody corpse.

Lin Xirou’s scalp tingled—it was terrifying, showing just how brutal the recent battle had been. Hiding had been the right choice; the chances of survival in the ravine water were too low. It was unfortunate that Feng Mi had been sacrificed.

Her heart ached, but her expression immediately turned stern: these were necessary sacrifices, Feng Mi would understand.

Lin Xirou ignored the pain as she stepped over the ruined wall. After taking a step or two outward, she seemed to realize something. Her body suddenly stiffened, and after a moment, she slowly turned her head, the flashlight beam once again illuminating the corpse.

This corpse didn’t look like an adult’s.

When the Wrapped-Head Army killed White-Eyed Ghosts or Owl Ghosts, they used guns and blades—they wouldn’t have mutilated a body to this extent.

Her lips trembled slightly as she hesitantly approached the corpse. After a while, the flashlight beam began to shake violently.

Though the body was mangled beyond recognition, she saw some torn cloth fragments. If she remembered correctly, Xing Shen’s group had dressed Grasshopper in children’s clothes.

This corpse was Grasshopper’s.

Lin Xirou’s mind pounded, her eardrums seemed to throb with heavy drumbeats, and it felt as if claws were constantly scratching inside her skull.

Grasshopper.

Facing this blood-soaked corpse, she suddenly remembered many things.

She remembered forcing across the ravine during the flood season, remembered pushing Grasshopper out as bait to lure Lame Father, remembered not long ago when Grasshopper frantically tried to attack her before being kicked away by Xiong Hei…

She had never hurried to find it or exchange it, always feeling there was time. There were always more important and urgent matters than Grasshopper. Once everything was settled and smoothed over, she would find Grasshopper again, let it enjoy some peaceful retirement days—compensate it properly.

Grasshopper was dead? Had all their entanglements suddenly… ended like this?

Lin Xirou bit her lip hard, then knelt down, removed her outer garment, and spread it out, gathering the remains onto it before tying the corners into a strangely-shaped bundle.

She would take Grasshopper out, remember this hatred, and use these remains to constantly drive herself: after sacrificing so much, she absolutely could not lose!

Lin Xirou shouldered the bundle and started walking.

The bundle wasn’t heavy—if Grasshopper had grown normally with an adult’s frame, it wouldn’t have been this light.

Lin Xirou’s eyes were bloodshot as she walked step by step toward the exit.

She reminded herself: keep walking, don’t stop, don’t collapse. She had a Nüwa statue that had turned to soil in her possession. With this, there would be a second and third Xiong Hei and Feng Mi by her side. Everything would start anew, and with previous experience, she would achieve greater, stronger results.

Just then, a giggling laugh suddenly came from behind.

Lin Xirou jumped as if shocked by electricity, instantly turning back with the flashlight beam: “Who’s there?”

No one—it was empty behind her.

Thinking carefully, the sound had been brief and crisp, like a young girl’s laugh, and very faint, very distant, as if coming from the netherworld.

Lin Xirou’s hair stood on end. After freezing for a moment, she turned back and continued forward.

It was quiet behind her with no footsteps, but for some reason, she felt someone was following her.

After walking another stretch, she suddenly turned around again.

Still nothing—the path behind was deathly silent. At this moment, even the wind had ceased.

Lin Xirou sighed in relief, thinking she might be imagining things: after experiencing successive upheavals and seeing Grasshopper’s tragic state, her mind must be affected.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead and continued forward.

As she walked, she suddenly felt a slight tug at the hem of her clothes. Lin Xirou initially paid no attention: she had removed her outer garment, and her inner clothes were rather loose. Carrying Grasshopper on her back, something might have caught.

But after a few seconds, that tugging sensation came again.

Lin Xirou abruptly stopped, her heart nearly leaping from her chest.

She turned her head very slowly to look at her left side.

A barefooted girl of four or five years was walking beside her, lightly holding onto her clothes.

Seeming to sense Lin Xirou’s stop, the girl also raised her head, looking up.

The girl was very pretty, with a lovely round face and hair braided into two plaits hanging diagonally from her shoulders, but her eyes—they were white.

Lin Xirou recoiled as if struck by lightning, stepping back twice.

The girl’s face reminded her of someone—the same features, the same expression.

She stammered: “Xinxin?”

Yan Tuo’s sister, Yan Xin.

Back then, when she threw her into Black-White Ravine, Xinxin had chased after her, clutching her clothes just like this, sobbing: “Auntie, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, don’t throw me away.”

Yan Xin smiled, then spoke.

Her voice was strange as if squeezed from her throat, with an odd tone, but Lin Xirou could understand.

Yan Xin said: “I remember you.”