After all these years, Old Nine Ding still shuddered when recalling that scene.

“I don’t know what it was,” he swallowed dryly, anxiously looking toward the tightly drawn windows, as if worried some strange creature might break through at any moment. “Not like a dog, more like… a person. No, no, no, definitely not a person. It was a dog that had become a spirit…”

He lowered his voice, explaining himself: “It must have become a spirit. People say, animals that have lived for several hundred years, their bones and internal organs gradually change to resemble a human’s. When their external appearance also becomes human-like, that means they’ve transformed into a spirit…”

His words became increasingly outlandish. Luo Ren’s expression darkened: “Focus on the main point. What happened next?”

Old Nine Ding smiled apologetically: “Young… young sir, think about it. We were scared to death at the time. How could we have any other thoughts? We were also afraid someone would discover us and we wouldn’t be able to explain ourselves, so we quickly gathered everything and buried it… buried it under the tree where that Zhang fellow had carved characters…”

Under that tree?

So just a few hours earlier, they had been so close to the grave of that literate dog?

It seemed they had found some clues, yet somehow everything was becoming more confusing.

Old Nine Ding felt he had explained everything clearly and was about to heave a sigh of relief when he suddenly noticed Luo Ren’s gaze boring into him like an awl, instantly making him cold with fear again.

He had never mentioned this incident to anyone. Afterward, though he wasn’t exactly sleepless with worry every night, he couldn’t help thinking about it every year or so.

The more he thought, the more frightened he became. He feared it had become a spirit, but feared even more if it had been human. He also worried whether that strange creature had a lair deep in the mountains with descendants waiting to seek revenge, so later, when he guided people into the mountains, no matter how much tourists insisted, he wouldn’t go any deeper. He either said there were wild beasts in the mountains making it unsafe, or that his legs weren’t good and he couldn’t walk far.

He never imagined that after more than twenty years, someone would suddenly bring this up. Could it be…

A preposterous thought flashed through his mind. Old Nine Ding’s scalp tingled as he shrieked and shrank backward, saying: “Are you… have you transformed into humans…?”

His whole body trembled, his knees weakened, and he didn’t even know what he was muttering, though he vaguely remembered saying a few things.

—Every grievance has its debtor; look for that Zhang fellow.

—I didn’t do anything. Eating dog meat was his idea, I just helped…

It took Luo Ren quite a while to react, caught between laughter and tears. Cao Yanhua said impatiently, “Old man, you should read more books. Do we look like spirits to you?”

What, they weren’t?

That’s good, that’s good. Old Nine Ding smiled awkwardly, gradually calming down.

You couldn’t blame him. He was old, barely literate, and had spent years guarding the deep mountains. The strange stories in his head had taken root far deeper than any science.

It seemed some people couldn’t handle being frightened—apply too much pressure and they easily became confused. Luo Ren thought for a moment and changed to a relatively gentle tone: “Uncle, please try to remember if there was anything unusual about this incident, either before or after it happened?”

Unusual? What counted as unusual? Old Nine Ding’s gaze was unfocused, his eyes slightly crossed.

Luo Ren patiently explained: “Something that seemed strange but you couldn’t quite explain why.”

Old Nine Ding frowned, struggling to remember something. Just when Luo Ren and the others were losing hope, he suddenly said hesitantly: “There was one thing… I don’t know if it counts.”

“When we finally buried the dog, its body had these strips, like someone had stuck wide tape to its body and then ripped it off, taking the fur with it. But I can’t remember if it was like that when we found it, or if it changed after it died…”

Luo Ren’s heart pounded violently: “How many? Those strips, how many were there?”

“Five or six… six or seven, I think? Some were crisscrossed together. I just glanced at it, didn’t count clearly.”

Back in the car, no one felt like leaving right away. Seeing an opportunity, villagers selling goods gathered around again. Cao Yanhua leaned out the window and spoke to one of them. The man ran back and returned shortly, his right hand holding a bag of washed apples, his left hand carrying freshly roasted corn from the stove.

The roasted corn smelled delicious. Though it burned her hands, Mu Dai blew on it as she peeled away the leaves. After one bite, her lips, the corners of her mouth, her cheeks, and even the tip of her nose were blackened.

Not that anyone else looked much better.

Eating while chatting had become a habit. Even the most dangerous matters could be discussed over food.

Feng Mountain Ridge, with its three peaks, connected head to tail—it was unlikely for mountain peaks to be of equal height, so the overall layout probably resembled a staggered, massive phoenix clasp.

This terrain had been carefully chosen.

After leaving Long Township, the literate dog chose Feng Mountain Ridge to find a secluded place to live out its days.

Here, by coincidence, it had opened the sealed evil bamboo slips from the previous cycle.

Based on Old Nine Ding’s final description of the strange strips on the literate dog’s body, Luo Ren believed that all seven evil bamboo slips had once been on the dog simultaneously.

Cao Yanhua was astonished: “Seven slips, Brother Luo? Even one attached to a body is extraordinary. With all seven, shouldn’t it have ascended to heaven?”

Yi Wansan thought for a moment: “My view aligns with Luo Ren’s—don’t forget, when the evil slips first attached to human bodies, the process was very slow.”

If one considered the evil bamboo slips as people, then even the greatest villain, after being suppressed for hundreds of years, trapped for hundreds of years, and starved for hundreds of years, upon first being released, probably couldn’t immediately turn the world upside down.

They might have stiff limbs, suddenly unaccustomed to freedom, starved until their eyes were dim and their limbs weak, trembling and unable to take steps. They needed to recover, needed to absorb nourishment.

The literate dog was the perfect supplement—in other words, anyone who could open the evil slips was destined to be their nourishment and karmic connection.

After who knows how many seasons of mutual friction in the rarely visited Feng Mountain Ridge, whether in pouring rain at dawn and dusk or snow-covered peaks day and night, while the outside world bustled with activity, here, the invisible evil bamboo slips, like blood-sucking leeches, attached to the literate dog, going from lean to full, from stiff and sluggish to being able to stretch their limbs flexibly.

Then, it was time to leave the mountain.

Why was the dog carrying seven evil bamboo slips killed by the unremarkable Zhang Guanghua and Old Nine Ding?

Luo Ren said, “It’s not that they could kill it, but that the evil slips wanted this situation to occur.”

Leaving the mountain meant a new round of positioning, from deep mountains to human society, requiring a flexible, inconspicuous carrier.

Killing the donkey after the grinding is done—the evil slips needed to detach and transfer, hitching a ride to begin a new round of playing with humanity.

Yan Hongsha suddenly thought of something: “Then… if they all targeted Zhang Guanghua, why did they spare Old Nine Ding?”

Luo Ren had finished eating and had taken a wet tissue to clean his face and hands. After using one, he was about to take another when Mu Dai suddenly turned her face toward him.

Instinctively, he helped wipe her face. Her skin was truly beautiful—the moisture from the tissue lingered temporarily, giving off a slight glow, so lustrous it seemed one touch would burst it.

Meanwhile, Cao Yanhua offered his opinion: “Maybe it has to do with Old Nine Ding being from Feng Mountain Ridge? The evil slips must deeply hate this place.”

Yi Wansan thought this made sense: “Old Nine Ding rarely moves from his spot, but Zhang Guanghua was an outsider. With Zhang Guanghua as the first stop, the subsequent dispersal would be easier.”

So, by strange coincidence, as if guided by ghostly forces, this cycle of evil bamboo slips truly began with Zhang Guanghua. No one knew where he was unwittingly “unloaded,” perhaps at a crowded tourist attraction, perhaps at a bustling market, perhaps during an inadvertent shoulder-brush with someone.

One slip deeply attached to him, while the other six quietly and gradually separated, like thick ink dissolving in a great lake.

Each traveled a long journey. The initial “fusion” of attachment might not have been smooth, and their “communication” with each other might not have been timely. There were repetitions, deviations, some returning to position earlier, others facing unexpected situations and going completely off course. But it didn’t matter—these were acceptable fluctuations.

Day after day, positions gradually formed, corresponding to the great dipper handle in the sky. Suddenly, one day, the faint light of the seven stars shone above the heartland of the continent.

Perhaps the legendary bronze phoenix clasp and the wooden slips that Laozi had originally used to guide the seven evil energies were scattered here on Feng Mountain Ridge.

But on these three large mountain peaks, finding such small objects would be more difficult than finding a live dog, wouldn’t it?

Back at the hotel, staring at the countdown card that would flip to “10” in just a few hours, Cao Yanhua anxiously paced about, discussing possible methods with Yi Wansan: Would placing an advertisement to recruit more people to search for work? What about offering a reward?

His thoughts even turned to Yan Hongsha: “Sister Hongsha, doesn’t your grandfather know how to see ‘treasure auras’? Maybe you could try? Bronze artifacts are treasures too, cultural relics.”

Yan Hongsha remained silent.

Yi Wansan had a sudden thought: “Second Fire, you don’t actually know how, do you?”

Yan Hongsha said, “I don’t know how. My grandfather never trained me. You know I trained in descending treasure wells. But…”

But her grandfather did know, and this lifelong experience, passed down through generations, couldn’t have simply disappeared.

When Yan Hongsha sold the large mansion in Kunming to pay off debts, she cleared out everything from the house.

Previously, she hadn’t lingered in her grandfather’s room, always feeling it was gloomy with years of accumulated medicinal herb smells. But that time, she had thoroughly cleaned out every corner of Old Yan’s room.

She also saw the hand-copied treasure-hunting manual passed down in the Yan family.

It wasn’t meant for her but for her uncle Yan Jiuxiao. There were even words on the title page saying that descendants of the Yan family must strictly observe the precepts, and those not personally taught were not allowed to read it.

But how sad—her grandfather had died, and Uncle Yan Jiuxiao had also died.

Yan Hongsha sighed and truly didn’t read it. The manual remained with her.

Cao Yanhua was delighted: “Where is it?”

Yan Hongsha nodded toward her luggage bag beside the sofa.

This was truly a case of searching everywhere only to find it right at hand. Yi Wansan swallowed: “Um… isn’t your family specialized in diving for pearls? Can you also detect gold, silver, copper, and iron?”

“The treasure-hunting manual covers all kinds of treasures. It’s just that my grandfather was especially skilled in the treasure well system.” Yan Hongsha couldn’t understand why they were so enthusiastic. “Besides, the phoenix clasp is just three pieces of bronze, that tiny. How could it have any treasure aura?”

Cao Yanhua and Yi Wansan answered with surprising unanimity.

“Let’s try anyway, like treating a dead horse as if it were alive.”

“Having something is better than nothing.”

The two stared at Yan Hongsha, waiting for her decision.

Yan Hongsha bit her lip, then suddenly covered her eyes with both hands and shouted: “It’s not my responsibility! I’m a descendant of the Yan family, I can’t look!”

Cao Yanhua and Yi Wansan howled in unison and lunged for the luggage bag: well, they weren’t descendants of the Yan family, were they?

Luo Ren smiled bitterly. He didn’t hold much hope for this approach and stood up, saying: “I’ll make a phone call.”

He entered the suite’s inner room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Outside, Yi Wansan and Cao Yanhua were making a lot of noise, while the adorable Yan Hongsha kept her eyes tightly covered—though Yi Wansan and the others were quite far from her, she was taking her recusal seriously.

Mu Dai, fearing the noise was too loud, went to help Luo Ren close the door. Through the gap, she saw the inner room’s window half-open, with Luo Ren leaning against the windowsill, waiting for the call to connect. When he saw her, he beckoned her to enter.

Mu Dai thought he needed something from her, so she closed the door and went over. When she got close, Luo Ren smiled slightly, put his arm around her, and kissed her forehead, saying something in Japanese.

The Japanese was directed at the phone—he was speaking to someone on the other end.

So why had he asked her to come in? Just to show affection while on the phone, without interrupting either activity?

Mu Dai was annoyed and twisted away, wanting to leave. Luo Ren tightened his arm, pulled her back, gave her a challenging look, and then quickly smiled again, saying: “Aoki.”

He was calling Aoki? Mu Dai was curious to listen but also unwilling to simply obey. Her eyes rolled slyly, and with a sweet smile, she hugged Luo Ren back and stood on tiptoes to kiss his lips.

Luo Ren had no choice. Sometimes he avoided her, and when truly annoyed, gave her waist a hard pinch.

Nevertheless, the call proceeded smoothly.

She heard him say: “Aoki, that American version of the bounty hunter modified by the Frenchman Arnaud—I know there’s stock in China. Help me quickly ask around. Here in the north, in Henan, Shanxi, Shaanxi area—if anyone has it, I need it urgently.”

Then he said, “Japanese girls are really easy to talk to. Yukiko just let you pass through like that.”

She couldn’t hear what Aoki said, but Luo Ren replied: “Maybe in the next life. You didn’t introduce me earlier, and now you bring it up. You know very well that Mu Dai gets violent when she’s angry.”

Through the receiver, Mu Dai could even hear Aoki laughing heartily.

She was grinding her teeth with anger. After the call ended, she said fiercely to Luo Ren, “Was Aoki trying to introduce you to a gentle, beautiful Japanese girlfriend? Opportunity knocks but once—why not in this lifetime?”

The wind was strong at this height, gusting through the window. With a whoosh, her hair flew up, covering her eyes.

She reached up to fix it, but Luo Ren said, “Don’t move.”

He parted Mu Dai’s hair, squinting his eyes as he looked for a moment, then said: “Mu Dai, when your hair flies up, there are stars in between. It’s incredibly beautiful.”

Really?

Mu Dai turned to look. Indeed, as night had deepened and many ground lights had been extinguished, the stars in the sky appeared brighter, twinkling.

Her anger immediately subsided.

She turned back to Luo Ren, seeking confirmation: “Japanese girls don’t have stars in their hair?”

Luo Ren said, “Absolutely not.”

Outside the room.

Yi Wansan and Cao Yanhua had their heads pressed together, eagerly flipping through the manual.

“Look here, it says people who descend treasure wells often develop mysterious bite wounds. ‘Treasure aura is like a snake’—they’re being bitten by treasures!”

“Mountains with scallions above have silver below. Mountains with chives above have gold below. Chives? Like the ones in dumplings?”

Yan Hongsha covered her ears, almost wanting to burrow under the sofa cushions: “Not listening, not listening, not listening!”

But Yi Wansan’s voice still stubbornly penetrated her ears: “Wow! There is bronze! I thought it wasn’t valuable.”

Cao Yanhua scoffed: “Didn’t you see this sentence? ‘Those after the Qin Dynasty are not worth mentioning.’ They’re looking for bronze from before the Qin Dynasty—those are cultural relics. It also says here they’re called ‘auspicious metals.’ Hey, there’s a note here…”

Yan Hongsha perked up her ears to listen, but there was silence.

She was itching with curiosity and couldn’t help climbing up from the sofa: “What does it say?”

…

It said that bronze was different from naturally formed treasures. Its value largely came from its antiquity, so even a pair of strictly trained “treasure eyes” might not be able to see it. Moreover, bronze items were usually large pieces, difficult to transport, and considered useless to treasure hunters, so they weren’t highly regarded.

Below were a few sparse lines describing a “secret method,” which was said to be deviant, quite harmful to people, not worth the cost, and not recommended. It was merely hearsay, and its effectiveness was not guaranteed.

This might as well have been blank space.

As for the so-called secret method, it was enough to make one’s hair stand on end.

Swallow live earthworms, ants, scorpions, centipedes, and rice with husks; burn yellow paper painted with cinnabar to ash, mix with strong alcohol, and drink it all at once.

The manual also showed the style of the talisman—truly worthy of being used to find bronze, as the talisman resembled the national treasure “Square Cauldron with Four Sheep” bronze vessel.

It was said that people who tried this method would become insane, seemingly taking on the characteristics of these underground creatures, frantically digging with their hands, and where they dug, there might be bronze artifacts thousands of years old.

Cao Yanhua shuddered: “You call that ‘insane’? That’s poisoning plus drunken madness.”

No wonder it said the harm to people was quite severe, not just “harm” but also “hand-digging”—quite undignified.

As they were speaking, Luo Ren and Mu Dai came out of the room.

Luo Ren said, “I’ve contacted Aoki and asked him to send me two modified bounty hunters—underground metal detectors—by tomorrow at the latest. There was a Frenchman named Arnaud in the Philippines who modified bounty hunters to be more sensitive in positioning and detection, with a depth capability of more than 10 meters underground. Let’s work hard, even if we all have to stay at Feng Mountain Ridge. As long as the items are there, I think we’ll have results within three days.”

Bounty hunters? High-tech? Modified by a Frenchman? Cao Yanhua was excited.

Yi Wansan, however, wasn’t. He sat on the sofa, staring straight ahead.

There, Cao Liberation was walking around the room as elegantly as ever, back and forth, forth and back.

Yi Wansan suddenly elbowed Cao Yanhua and asked quietly: “Hey, Fatty, do chickens eat centipedes?”

“I guess so. Isn’t there a saying, ‘iron rooster fights centipede’?”

“Do they eat ants?”

“Of course! They’re always pecking at the ground…”

Halfway through his answer, Cao Yanhua’s heart suddenly skipped a beat.

He understood Yi Wansan’s meaning.

The two men, with tacit understanding, having a sudden revelation, in perfect agreement, exchanged a glance.