Never mind the chaos—it was already chaotic anyway.
Yu Rong steeled herself and ordered everyone to keep moving, adding harshly, “Worst case, we’ll collect corpses when we get there. How could it get any worse?”
Fortunately, moments later, signal flares lit up in the distance again—three shots, yellow.
This was the contact signal, indicating their forces were still intact. Yu Rong was overjoyed and was about to say something encouraging when Wu Qing, who was leading, suddenly screamed in terror, “What was that? What was that thing!”
Not just Wu Qing—two or three others in the group had seen it too, crying out in succession.
“Was it a ghost? It just whooshed by! I thought my eyes were playing tricks!”
“Was that white hair?”
“I saw white eyeballs! Gleaming white!”
The formation dissolved as they stopped in their tracks. The Di Xiao huddled together, trembling violently. Nie Jiuluo leaned against Yan Tuo’s back, curiously looking around: with all this talk of white hair and white eyeballs, how had she missed it?
Suddenly, a human figure flashed past behind an earthen mound directly in her line of sight.
Nie Jiuluo’s body trembled as she cried out involuntarily, “Over there!”
However, by the time others looked in that direction, the figure had vanished.
Yan Tuo hadn’t seen it either and quickly asked her, “What did you see?”
Nie Jiuluo’s scalp tingled. To be honest, since entering Qingran, she had never truly been afraid. After all, even when she was alone and wounded by gunfire, she had fought Han Guan and Chen Fu to a standstill. Now, with her body well-recovered, numerous companions, and sufficient firepower, even several more Di Xiao wouldn’t have concerned her.
But now, she felt anxious.
That thing was too fast, like a ghostly apparition. When it darted past, it was like a streak of black mist. She knew that Di Xiao didn’t possess such speed—even she couldn’t achieve it.
But its form was human-like. Was this a Xiaoguei?
As she was considering how to explain this to Yan Tuo, there was a sharp whistling sound of a weapon cutting through the air. Someone beside her screamed and fell, then was suddenly dragged away at an incredible speed.
Everything happened so quickly that no one saw clearly what had occurred. Yan Tuo caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a rope rapidly retracting in the dim light. Realizing the person had been dragged away, he raised his gun and fired without hesitation.
However, in such poor lighting and without proper aim, hitting the rope was nearly impossible. The gunfire kicked up dust from the ground, but the screams were already distant. Yan Tuo instinctively wanted to give chase, but before he could, another scream rang out from their diagonal rear.
He feared Nie Jiuluo had been hit and broke out in a cold sweat, but quickly realized it was a man’s scream. When he turned around, all he saw were the raised feet of a man being rapidly dragged into the darkness. Now he understood why they were being dragged away—it must have been arrows with ropes attached. The arrowhead would pierce through the ankle, hook into the flesh, and with one powerful pull, the person would be dragged away.
Chaotic gunfire erupted. This time, real panic set in. Mixed with the gunshots were sharp, eerie laughs. The sound was neither human nor inhuman, coming from everywhere and nowhere. Behind stone pillars and earth mounds, heads began appearing constantly. Whether they had white hair was unclear, but each face bore a pair of stark white eyeballs.
These creatures were like tormenting demons, their movements terrifyingly agile. A head would appear and vanish in an instant, showing up here only to flash over there the next moment. Bullets always hit where they had been, and amid the gunfire, there would suddenly be screams of people being dragged across the ground. Those who had been tied together with rope were somewhat better off—when one was dragged, their combined weight made it harder to be pulled away quickly, giving them time to cut the ropes. Those holding hands were less fortunate—who would keep holding hands in such danger? Once hit, they were instantly dragged away.
Someone broke first, shouting, “Run!”
At such a moment, it was hard to say whether staying together or fleeing separately was better. After that shout, people scattered instantly, and even those who didn’t want to run had to follow the crowd.
Yan Tuo rushed to Nie Jiuluo’s side and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”
Without time to think, he chose a direction with fewer people and started running. After just a few steps, they encountered an earth mound blocking their path. Fortunately, it wasn’t too high. Yan Tuo gripped Nie Jiuluo’s waist and threw her upward with all his strength. “Up you go!”
Nie Jiuluo was naturally light and shot upward instantly, rolling behind the mound. As Yan Tuo prepared to climb up, he sensed something wrong in the wind behind him. His mind flashed, and he jerked his head aside.
A rope-attached arrow nearly grazed his ear before embedding itself in the earth mound.
Damn, if that had hit the back of his head, wouldn’t he have been finished right there? Yan Tuo broke out in a cold sweat, but his limbs didn’t stop moving. He scrambled up the mound, catching sight of the arrow’s tail swaying with its attached rope. A thought suddenly flashed through his mind.
—If he grabbed the rope and pulled hard, couldn’t he drag one of those white-eyed beings over?
But in the next second, he abandoned the idea. With their numbers unknown, it wasn’t worth the risk.
He quickly rolled down the other side. Nie Jiuluo had been waiting anxiously and grabbed his hand immediately as they resumed their desperate flight.
***
The direction didn’t matter anymore—they couldn’t tell north from south down here anyway. All that mattered was reaching safety, away from those white-eyed beings.
The two ran without stopping, wind whistling in their ears. They couldn’t tell if it was from their running or if the underground’s strange winds had risen again. Either way, the screams and eerie laughter gradually faded until they could no longer be heard.
Nie Jiuluo stumbled, nearly falling forward, but her good balance and Yan Tuo’s grip on her hand helped her stay upright.
This was their first stop since fleeing, and as soon as they stopped, she noticed the difference.
She shuddered, her voice barely a whisper: “Yan Tuo, it’s so dark here.”
Indeed it was dark—they had left the luminous stones’ light far behind. Looking back, that light seemed pitifully dim, like prostrate ghosts whose spiritual energy was nearly depleted.
Yan Tuo made an acknowledging sound, feeling exposed with no cover around them. “Let’s find somewhere to hide first.”
They moved forward carefully, feeling their way, and luck was with them. They found several large stone slabs stacked together, each about half the size of a room. Perhaps due to underground earthquakes, the stones leaned against each other, creating gaps between them. There was enough space for one or two people to squeeze through—both hidden and safe.
They crawled into a gap and leaned against the stone, finally catching their breath with deep gulps of air.
After a while, Yan Tuo placed a finger to his lips and made a shushing sound.
Nie Jiuluo understood his meaning and held her breath, listening quietly to their surroundings.
Her hearing and sense of smell were far inferior to those of the Dog Clan, but when calm and focused, she could still detect something.
Fortunately, they were safe for now.
Yan Tuo’s voice was very soft: “Were those Xiaoguei?”
White-eyed ghosts? Who knew? It’s not like they introduced themselves.
Nie Jiuluo made a noncommittal sound.
She sensed that Xing Shen’s group must have encountered the same situation, explaining the sudden outbreak of gunfire, but these creatures were simply too fast—guns weren’t much of a threat to them.
Lin Xirou’s group had probably encountered the same things.
Well, well. They had agreed to a showdown but ended up facing something even more troublesome.
Nie Jiuluo found it darkly amusing: “If there’s a food chain down here, these white-eyed ones must be at the top.”
Yan Tuo said, “There’s more than one.”
Nie Jiuluo nodded. There were indeed more than one—at least ten had attacked them just now. They didn’t know if these were the same ones that had attacked Xing Shen.
Yan Tuo pondered aloud: “And have you noticed? They’re capturing people.”
Yes, they were capturing people. Nie Jiuluo didn’t understand the significance: “What about it?”
“Using arrows with ropes, dragging people away—that means they want them alive, not dead. But why capture people? What’s their purpose?”
She didn’t know. She couldn’t even say what these creatures were, let alone understand their motives.
Nie Jiuluo murmured, “I wonder how Yu Rong and the others are doing.”
Yan Tuo gave a bitter laugh: “It’s up to luck now. Xing Shen’s group probably scattered too. As long as they weren’t captured, we might still meet up later…”
He suddenly stopped.
Nie Jiuluo’s heart jumped, and then she realized why.
There were sounds outside.
She grew tense, her right hand clutching Yan Tuo’s arm, fingers digging into his taut muscles.
The sounds came from two directions, both with hurried footsteps.
Who could it be? Had Yu Rong and the others fled here too? Or had those white-eyed beings pursued them relentlessly?
Though she knew she couldn’t see anything, Nie Jiuluo couldn’t help tilting her head toward the outside.
Yan Tuo’s finger rested on the gun’s trigger—if things went wrong, another fierce battle would begin.
A man’s voice rang out: “What’s the situation?”
Holy shit!
Yan Tuo’s mind went blank for a moment, then he leaned toward Nie Jiuluo’s ear and breathed: “Xiong Hei.”
A young woman responded: “Didn’t dare get too close. I think it’s the Hooded Army group—they ran into the White Pupil Demons. Didn’t you hear the gunfire?”
Yan Tuo’s heart pounded as he added: “Feng Mi.”
He had thought Feng Mi was dead, but apparently, she had only lost a piece of her scalp.
Xiong Hei’s voice was also kept low, though his bitter tone was clear: “Damn it, why did the White Pupil Demons come up? They shouldn’t be here… Did you find Yang Zheng?”
Feng Mi responded irritably: “Haven’t found him. He’s either alive or dead.”
As their voices grew distant and Yan Tuo hesitated whether to follow, Nie Jiuluo had already tugged at his clothes and whispered: “Let’s go see.”
***
During his time at the farm, Yan Tuo had experience tracking Xiong Hei’s group. He knew their sense of smell and vision were only average—as long as they were relatively careful, they wouldn’t be detected.
Though it grew darker the further they went, making it increasingly difficult to see, Feng Mi and Xiong Hei’s occasional conversation made it easy to follow their sound without fear of losing them.
He and Nie Jiuluo held their breath as voices drifted back from ahead.
Feng Mi: “What’s Aunt Lin thinking? I say we should go back to the mine. The hostages are scattered anyway, what’s the point of an exchange now? We might not even survive ourselves.”
Xiong Hei snapped: “You think we can just go back whenever we want? What if we run into the White Pupil Demons again? Let’s wait it out until they go back underground.”
Nie Jiuluo’s scalp tingled at this conversation.
The exchange was incredibly informative.
—The hostages had scattered, meaning Uncle Jiang and the others were either in the White Pupil Demons’ hands or wandering underground like her and Yan Tuo.
—Waiting for the White Pupil Demons to return underground—did that mean they came from even deeper below?
Lost in thought, she was startled when Yan Tuo suddenly pulled her behind an earth mound: “Lots of people.”
Lots of people? Had Lin Xirou brought many people?
Nie Jiuluo was confused. After a while, she carefully peeked out to look.
At first, her vision was completely dark, but gradually her eyes adjusted. She was startled—many people were standing there, clusters of dark figures, not just human shapes but beast forms too.
But these figures…
Something clicked in her mind as she looked closer, and she suddenly understood: “They’re not people, they’re terracotta figures.”
As a sculptor herself, she was very familiar with these. These must be the legendary terracotta boundary markers created to prevent people from entering Blackwhite Ravine. The boundary was said to be very long and wide, so entering the terracotta forest didn’t necessarily mean immediate danger.
In fact…
Her heart began to race: “Let’s go. We might be better hidden in there.”
***
They approached the terracotta figures stealthily.
The ancient earthen scent washed over them. Nie Jiuluo suddenly felt excited—this was like getting up close to the Terracotta Warriors, genuine Qin Dynasty artifacts. In museums, you weren’t even allowed to get near them.
What a shame it had to be under these circumstances. Otherwise, she would have loved to shine a light and study the Qin craftsmen’s techniques—perhaps it would have given her new insights and improved her skills.
Among the figures here, perhaps due to being near the edge, many were standing while others had fallen, creating a varied landscape of different heights and sizes. Nie Jiuluo stepped very carefully to avoid making noise. After two steps, she suddenly froze completely still.
Yan Tuo was confused at first but quickly understood her thinking: Lin Xirou’s group would be cautious about using lights, meaning they were in darkness.
“We might be better hidden in there”—Nie Jiuluo planned to use these terracotta figures as cover, or rather, to pose as figures themselves and approach openly.
The idea seemed crazy at first, but after some consideration, it seemed feasible.
Yan Tuo’s heart pounded as he copied her stance, standing completely still.
After a few seconds of silence, Feng Mi’s voice came from nearby: “Aunt Lin, are we just going to wait here?”
That confirmed the direction. Nie Jiuluo turned slightly, taking an almost silent step toward the voice.
Yan Tuo followed her example, even more carefully.
Lin Xirou’s familiar voice responded: “Let’s wait and see. When the snipe and clam fight, the fisherman profits. Let them battle while we conserve our strength and hide until the end. Whether the White Pupil Demons attack the Hooded Army or the Hooded Army gets separated, if we encounter any of them, we can pick them off one by one. Isn’t that a good deal?”
Nie Jiuluo took another step forward, maintaining her composure.
Yan Tuo continued following.
From Lin Xirou’s perspective, the scene must have been eerie: among the terracotta figures, two were silently moving, approaching her.
From his perspective, Yan Tuo found it even eerier: in this darkness where only outlines were visible, what if some of these figures weren’t terracotta, but like him, breathing and capable of movement?
As if summoned by his fears, just as this thought arose, he saw a terracotta figure beside Nie Jiuluo slowly turn its head toward her.