The final text of the silk book read: Those who see this book should know the situation is dire. They must urgently recruit death squads, selecting those of high loyalty, courage, and integrity who would sacrifice their lives for righteousness, willingly undertaking this great mission. Even if their livers and brains are smeared on the ground, they would not refuse a thousand deaths. Five warriors shall gather to jointly open the bottom box.

Mu Dai’s gaze fell on the two kite-patterned wooden squares at the bottom of the box.

The secret key to this layer’s mechanism should be the two characters for “death squad.”

So this was what her master had asked her to do.

No, no, no, her master didn’t know what it was either. Plum Blossom, Ninth Lady, had never learned this secret in her lifetime.

She suddenly found it amusing how things had comically and coincidentally been reversed: originally, the procedure should have been that she opened the box, learned the secret, and then went to gather a death squad. But now, she had stumbled into this mess in complete ignorance, bringing along so many people, plus a chicken.

Times had changed, and worldviews were different now: the concept of a “death squad” felt alien even to her—how could she recruit urgently? Post an advertisement?

In her ears, Cao Yanhua’s stumbling voice sounded: “Br-Brother Luo, can you explain to me… this ‘death squad,’ it’s not what I think it is, right?”

He smiled awkwardly, his heart racing with panic.

These phrases before him—”high loyalty and courage,” “sacrifice life for righteousness,” “livers and brains smeared on the ground,” and so on—in his mind, were words that would never be applied to someone like him.

And what about “willingly undertaking this great mission”? Such passionate words should be for rulers to consider, right? Who was he? He was originally a thief. At first, he got involved just to help his Little Master…

He instinctively shrank back: he wasn’t that noble, absolutely not. If it meant heading toward death, he would refuse.

Seeing Luo Ren not answering, he looked at Yi Wansan for help. Yi Wansan gave a dry laugh and said, “I don’t feel too good about this either.”

As he spoke, he picked out the characters for “death” and “squad” from the character panel: “Why don’t we open it and see?”

Yan Hongshu hesitated: “Is that appropriate?”

The five death squad members who would open the box needed to be “willing to undertake this great mission,” but the five of them didn’t seem to have such intentions.

Yi Wansan said, “Let’s see what the Little Boss Lady thinks. The key was delivered to her, and the box is essentially hers.”

Mu Dai said, “Let’s look. We’ve already captured six slips and suffered plenty. What’s wrong with taking a look?”

Luo Ren almost laughed out loud.

Again came the muffled sound, and the final bottom layer of the box rose and stopped.

The depth of this layer was also about 10cm. In the center were embossed a phoenix, a male phoenix, and a simurgh—three mythical birds with heads and tails interlinked, forming a circle. Around the circumference were slots with five-character slips inserted, transparent, made of material almost identical to the glass structure of the Four Archways.

The slips’ headers were labeled Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth, with names written below in vermilion. Mu Dai noticed that one of them had “Plum Blossom First Zhao” written on it.

There was also a piece of cinnabar and another silk book in the box.

Shen Gun opened the silk book and looked. It turned out the cinnabar was for writing names on the character slips. In other words, new death squad members, after opening this layer, would erase the characters on the slips and write their names with cinnabar.

Much of what was written in this silk book was already familiar to them.

It began by mentioning that the malevolent slips needed to attach to living forms. If the possessed subject died, they would quickly leave—indeed, this was the method they had used to force the malevolent slip away from Pin Ting.

It also mentioned that Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth could all temporarily overcome the malevolent slips, but Water was most suitable because it was ubiquitous and convenient to use—Yi Wansan recalled how he had once tried to burn a malevolent slip at Little Shang River. Thinking about it carefully, he felt they were all quite capable. Despite being a ragtag team, they had accumulated quite a bit of practical experience through their struggles.

Finally, it discussed the power of the phoenix-simurgh clasps.

This section was quite fresh. Translated, it meant that the malevolent slips and the phoenix-simurgh clasps—the so-called clasp-sealing—was a confrontation between two forces.

Even after a hundred years of sealing, if the malevolent slips escaped, they would still carry the power of the phoenix-simurgh clasps. This power wasn’t strong, but it always opposed the malevolent slips. Although it couldn’t stop them from doing evil, it was like mending the fold after the sheep were lost—just like with the fishing line puppet incident: after the evildoer died, it still performed a somewhat unnecessary “foot amputation” to demonstrate its effectiveness.

A bit stupidly adorable.

And when people who truly opposed the malevolent slips appeared, the power of the phoenix-simurgh clasps would transfer to specific individuals.

Cao Yanhua had a sudden realization: “So after the Little Shang River incident, we could all see the prompts from the phoenix-simurgh clasps. Later, during the Five Pearls Village incident, Sister Yan Hongshu joined us, and she could see them too?”

Shen Gun was frustrated: so the power of the phoenix-simurgh clasps wasn’t an innate gift. Had he known, he would have rushed to the scene at Little Shang River. It was truly a case of being so close yet so far, letting Yan Hongshu fill the last vacancy later.

Yi Wansan snorted: “This phoenix-simurgh clasp thing doesn’t do much. It hasn’t transformed me in any way, just occasionally gives a hint or shows a water image.”

Yan Hongshu muttered, “I think it’s quite useful. We’ve captured six malevolent slips.”

Yi Wansan refuted: “You said ‘we,’ it’s ‘we,’ not the phoenix-simurgh clasps that captured them.”

Yan Hongshu insisted: “But the power of the phoenix-simurgh clasps is within us. We are the phoenix-simurgh clasps.”

What a confusion, thought Yi Wansan, about to glare at her when a thought suddenly crossed his mind. Thinking further, his back turned cold.

“Wait, wait,” he said. “Could it be that we have already become part of the phoenix-simurgh clasps?”

He stuttered: “The phoenix-simurgh clasps are just ordinary bronze items, right? Where does their power come from? Could the phoenix-simurgh clasps be our incarnations?”

Throughout his life, he had seen too many such stories—like someone unable to forge a sword, throwing themselves into the forge to die for the sword; or unable to seal some evil spirit, resolutely drawing their sword to commit suicide and seal with blood…

Shen Gun cleared his throat and delivered another blow to his head.

“I think it’s highly possible,” he said pedantically. “In ancient times, regardless of good or evil, human sacrifice existed. Here, the silk book consistently emphasizes the need for loyal and brave death squads, not afraid of having their livers and brains smeared on the ground, and even leaving their names in cinnabar on the character slips beforehand, somewhat like signing a life-and-death agreement…”

Cao Yanhua broke out in a cold sweat listening to this: “Let’s read on, see what it says next.”

He moved closer, nervously reading alongside Shen Gun.

The text went on to mention that people possessing the power of the phoenix-simurgh clasps could avoid the harm of malevolent slip possession and would not be controlled by the malevolent slips’ thoughts.

It also warned that although the malevolent slips were “inhuman,” through repeated possession and high-level fusion with humans, it couldn’t be ruled out that they might gradually learn to think, nor could communication between them be excluded.

The method of sealing wasn’t mentioned here; it only said that once the phoenix-simurgh clasps were found, one would naturally know.

After reading everything, there wasn’t the feeling of relief that typically comes after learning a secret; instead, there was a profound sense of melancholy.

Shen Gun asked: “Do you want to write your names?”

No one nodded.

Shen Gun took out his phone and carefully photographed the silk book, then photographed the round carving of the phoenix-simurgh clasps. Mu Dai reached out to stop him: “Hey.”

“I just want to study it. It’s quite interesting. I know it’s a big secret that others shouldn’t know. I’ll just study it here and delete it once we leave Mist Town.”

Alright, Mu Dai withdrew her hand.

She watched Shen Gun fold the silk book back and put it away. Finally, following the method mentioned in the silk book, he pressed down on the phoenix, male phoenix, and simurgh heads simultaneously. The box made a muffled sound, and this layer slowly descended to the bottom.

The second layer emerged from the four walls, with the raised character molds for “death” and “squad” on it. Shen Gun folded the “Seven Stars Killing Formation” silk book and placed it inside. After the character molds were removed, the first layer appeared, with the characters for “human” and “heart” prominently standing in the center.

Yi Wansan collected these two character molds as well, and with his head lowered, returned all the character molds to the character panel. Outside, Cao Jiefang was walking back and forth uneasily. Listening carefully, they could hear the faint sound of water.

Mu Dai said: “I’m afraid it’s almost dawn, and the river water will flow again. Master said to put it back before daybreak, so the water wouldn’t damage the Four Archways.”

The box was closed again, and Mu Dai carried it out. Luo Ren took a flashlight and accompanied her.

With one flashlight gone, plus a night’s consumption, the tent immediately became much darker. Cao Yanhua lay down with his head on his arm. The ground beneath was uneven, and even with the moisture-proof mat, it still pressed painfully against his waist.

He kicked Yi Wansan: “Brother Wansan, tell me, what would it feel like to be a Star Lord with thousands of people following your orders?”

Yi Wansan kicked him back: “What’s going on? We’re not even anywhere yet, and your mind is already wandering?”

As he spoke, he also slowly lay down: “It must feel pretty good.”

From beside them came Yan Hongshu’s irritated voice: “What kind of character are you?”

Outside, the sound of rushing water grew louder. When Mu Dai and the others returned, Cao Jiefang also dived in: it had paced in the heavy fog all night, covered in mist and dew, looking just like a drenched chicken.

Cao Yanhua felt sorry for it: “Oh, Jiefang, come here, sleep here.”

Cao Jiefang ignored him, pattering to a corner and curling up.

Luo Ren looked at his watch: “Let’s sleep for a while. We need to leave under the cover of night, so don’t get too tired.”

The inner and outer compartments of the tent provided enough space. Shen Gun, still excited, said he didn’t need to sleep as he wanted to “study.” He and Cao Jiefang occupied two corners, while the others shared one blanket. Luo Ren slept in the middle, with Cao Yanhua and Yi Wansan on his right, and Mu Dai and Yan Hongshu on his left.

At first, probably none of them could sleep, but there was nothing to discuss. Gradually, the sound of breathing grew louder. Luo Ren heard Cao Yanhua mutter: “Nineteen, eighteen… when we leave tonight, only seventeen days left…”

Luo Ren smiled slightly and lowered his eyes to see Mu Dai looking at him.

Luo Ren asked: “Are you comfortable?”

He extended his arm, and Mu Dai moved closer, naturally resting her head on his shoulder. On the other side, half-asleep Yan Hongshu mumbled something and turned away.

All the flashlights were off, making the tent dim. Even breathing sounds rose and fell. Shen Gun was quite considerate; afraid the light from his phone would disturb others, he wrapped himself in the tarp like a sack, huddled inside to look.

Luo Ren held Mu Dai tight. When it was quiet enough, he could almost hear her heartbeat.

They had just lain down, but the valley was already awakening. They could hear sounds unique to early morning—singing insects, chirping birds. A leaf spiraled down onto the tent roof, casting a clear shadow, with even the serrated edges distinctly visible.

Mu Dai sighed in his arms.

Luo Ren knew why she sighed.

Everyone here could, like Cao Yanhua, immediately say “I quit, I’m not playing anymore” upon hearing the gravity of the situation. Only she couldn’t. She had made a promise to Plum Blossom Ninth Lady, taken on a responsibility, seriously saying: “Master, I can’t make absolute promises, but I guarantee I will do my utmost to fulfill what I’ve promised you.”

Plum Blossom Ninth Lady had indeed chosen the right disciple. Mu Dai was a girl who kept her promises.

She whispered in his ear, “Luo Little Knife, if in the end we have to die, I can’t let you all die.”

Luo Ren almost laughed. The arm under her head curved to embrace her shoulder. He could hold her completely with just one arm. Qing Mu always said, “Your little lamb would fall over in a breeze,” and he wasn’t wrong. Despite practicing martial arts for years, why was she still so slender? Was it because lightness kung fu required her to be light?

Plum Blossom Ninth Lady had entrusted the matter to her, and she suddenly began to worry. All the people here had become her responsibility, and she had so resolutely said, “I can’t let you all die.”

But what about herself?

Luo Ren thought this, and also asked: “What about you?”

She seemed somewhat bewildered, paused, and said: “I’ll figure something out.”

Shen Gun had called her a “brick of wisdom,” and she seemed to take it as a compliment to her wisdom.

Luo Ren reached out and stroked her hair. His fingertips suddenly brushed against the top of her head, stirring his heart. He slowly pressed down a strand to look.

There were small flecks of gray-white. Perhaps the hair dye had faded a bit, or perhaps her roots were showing.

Luo Ren’s chest suddenly churned with indescribable emotions. His chest rose and fell heavily. Mu Dai noticed and gave him a strange look, placing her hand on his chest and whispering in his ear: “It’s okay, you don’t need to worry. There will be a way.”

She didn’t even know what was troubling him.

Luo Ren’s eyes grew hot. He turned his face to kiss her lips, his other hand gripping her waist, pulling her body against his.

The movement wasn’t large, but Mu Dai was so scared her scalp tingled. After all, there were so many people in the tent, and one of them was awake. Luo Ren was being too bold.

She instinctively wanted to withdraw, but his hand was against her lower back. After the initial panic, there was a hint of adventurous secret joy.

Sweet excitement stimulated by concealment and alarm.

She carefully responded to him, making no sound, trying her best to suppress her breathing. A look of challenging delight flashed in Luo Ren’s eyes.

Two phrases popped into Mu Dai’s mind.

Birds of a feather.

Two of a kind.

Luo Ren’s hand slid under her clothes, his slightly calloused fingertips gently stroking her skin. Her undergarments had somehow loosened. His movements were light, but this teasing, on-and-off caress was particularly unbearable for her.

Luo Ren’s kisses moved to her neck. She bit her lip hard to avoid making any sound, her body tense, her head slightly tilted back…

Huh!

Cao Jiefang—when did it come over?

Mu Dai was dumbfounded.

There stood Cao Jiefang, wings tucked, standing not far from their heads, its small eyes bulging like soybeans, delighted as if discovering a new continent.

Mu Dai’s head buzzed, and she almost mouthed a plea: Don’t, don’t crow…

“Ko… do… lo…”

The sound was so resonant, echoing for a long time in the small tent.

Luo Ren moved with incredible speed, instantly pulling her down and pressing her head into his chest while closing his eyes. This way, it just looked like they were sleeping in an embrace.

Everyone witnessed Cao Yanhua’s temper when woken up.

Pet, beloved chicken, good chicken—at this moment, all these sentiments were thrown aside.

He shouted: “Cao Jiefang, everyone in the room is sleeping! Do you want to die?!”

He sprang out of his blanket in a flash, pounced to grab Cao Jiefang, leaped over Yi Wansan to the edge of the tent, and like a shot-putter, threw Cao Jiefang out.

The flapping sounds faded from near to far, mixed with indignant crowing.

Yan Hongshu pulled the blanket over her face, complaining tearfully: “What’s wrong with Cao Jiefang? I had just fallen asleep…”

Mu Dai also rubbed her eyes and half sat up, pretending to have just woken up: “Why is it crowing randomly…”

Cao Yanhua bowed and nodded cautiously: “Sister Yan Hongshu, Little Master, go back to sleep, sleep. I’ve thrown it out…”