It was hard to imagine that the exit of the Drifting Cave was right under the off-road vehicle they had recently driven to, separated by only two vehicles from the supply truck where Zong Hang had previously hidden.
Since there were no outsiders in this camp, most vehicles were simply parked without being locked. Ding Xi carelessly got into the car and moved it. By then, Zong Hang had already arrived, struggling with the pulley hoist slung over his shoulder.
He urgently asked Ding Xi, “Where’s that flame thrower of yours disguised as an oxygen tank? How do you use it?”
Ding Xi opened his trunk and took out two backpack-style oxygen tanks. They were indeed disguised, with “Oxygen” and “O2” painted on the cylinders. Metal spray tubes were mounted on the sides, shaped like guns for easy gripping. Ding Xi showed him the ignition device and explained the controls: “See, point the nozzle at the enemy. It can spray continuously for over two minutes, or in short bursts of a few seconds each, about fifteen times. The range is fifteen to eighteen meters. It’s quite spectacular when used – invincible.”
Zong Hang still felt unsatisfied: “Why only two tanks? Won’t that be used up in five minutes? Also, when you spray fire, can’t they dodge it? Won’t they just come back after you’re done spraying?”
Ding Xi gave him a contemptuous look: “You think this is just a torch? You clearly don’t understand what a flame thrower is.”
He lifted one of the alloy steel tanks: “Each weighs about sixty jin. Two tanks are equivalent to carrying a grown man on your back. How many more do you want to carry? Besides, do you think it just sprays fire? You think it just singes them?”
Isn’t that what it does? Zong Hang was confused – he had never handled dangerous equipment, not even touched a gun before.
Ding Xi explained, “It sprays burning liquid fuel, a mixture of gasoline and kerosene that’s already on fire, reaching temperatures of nearly a thousand degrees Celsius. Once it hits someone, it keeps burning. Even jumping into the water won’t help. So don’t let your handshake – if someone gets sprayed, they’re done within five seconds, and it’s an unbearable sight of high-temperature carbonization. During World War II, these were battlefield weapons. The more powerful ones could spray dozens or even hundreds of meters. However…”
He grinned, “These are prohibited items, obtained through black market channels. If it weren’t for the backing of the Three Families, we couldn’t get even one, let alone two.”
Is that powerful? Zong Hang listened with trepidation but also felt reassured. This truly was a weapon of mass destruction. Thankfully Ding Panling was so knowledgeable – if it had been up to him, he would have only thought to bring extra torches and gasoline.
Without further hesitation, he bent down to shoulder the two fuel tanks: “Lower me down with the hoist. Let’s do it like last time – try pulling back every half hour. If there’s no weight below, keep waiting until dawn.”
Ding Xi remained silent, coldly watching Zong Hang busy himself. It wasn’t until Zong Hang was already putting on the harness that he slowly said, “You trust me?”
Zong Hang froze: “What do you mean?”
Ding Xi gestured toward the hole: “Aren’t you afraid I won’t pull you back up?”
Damn!
Zong Hang’s scalp tightened and his fingertips trembled. He couldn’t find words to argue back. After a long while, he finally squeezed out: “Show some humanity!”
Ding Xi said flatly, “I might not necessarily do that. I’m just reminding you: consider the risks when taking action, and choose trustworthy people when working together. Between us, what we lack most seems to be trust, doesn’t it?”
“We don’t even know if there’s anyone in the cave. Maybe everyone’s already died trapped in the ground layers. There might be no point in doing this.”
“Think it through before making a decision. You have two choices: One, go down, and possibly never come back up; Two, don’t go down, and return home safely to reunite with your parents… You choose.”
Zong Hang was so angry he nearly coughed blood. He increasingly felt that Ding Xi truly wasn’t human. He hadn’t completely refused to help, hadn’t said he definitely wouldn’t assist, but pulling this act right before entering the cave made one feel the escape route could be cut off at any moment – who would dare to blindly bet on his conscience and morality? Did he even have any?
Zong Hang roared: “Maybe there are still people down there! What benefit would the Taisui get from killing all these people on the earth? With such a large group of living people delivered to its doorstep, wouldn’t it rather create more puppet agents like Jiang Jun from ’96 than do that?”
He had shouted without thinking, just out of anger, but after shouting, his back suddenly felt cold: Yes, the Taisui had long dwelled in this uninhabited place, rarely seeing even a single living creature. Suddenly having a large group of people fall into its trap, compared to burying them all in the ground layers to become coal fossils, wouldn’t it prefer to make use of them?
He felt certain there were still people in the cave.
Ding Xi’s tone was cool: “Then go down. Maybe I will pull you back up.”
Zong Hang’s fists were clenched, his palms sweating.
To move a thug, you have to think like a thug.
After a while, he continued attaching the harness hooks: “You will stay here and help.”
Ding Xi laughed: “Why? I’m still undecided myself.”
Zong Hang said: “Because there’s a risk.”
“You have two choices. One is to remove the hoist and leave me and everyone else trapped below, but you can’t guarantee we’ll die or never get out: What if the cave has other exits? What if there are tunnels? The Three Families aren’t all dead yet, Jiang Tayue and the others are still guarding their base. If we make it out, do you think your life will be easy?”
“Two is to help and help with all your might. All along, your only worry has been Yi Sa pursuing you for revenge over Chen Tu. Have you considered that if you save her, if you do her this favor, how could she still feel right about seeking revenge against you?”
Zong Hang felt a bit guilty and his ears grew hot. He felt quite shameless saying this, but in extraordinary times, heaven would understand – this was just a verbal strategy to stabilize Ding Xi.
“And there’s Ding Panling’s people. If you save them, if you do this good deed, won’t you be able to make whatever demands you want? In the future, the Three Families won’t just casually order you around, they might even respect and honor you. Make your choice, think it through… but please use the hoist to lower me down first.”
Ding Xi stared at him for a while: “If there are people down there, some might be injured. Do you want to take a first aid kit down?”
[Scene break]
The tendril of breathing earth plunged into the water like a diving serpent.
Yi Sa watched its trajectory carefully and twisted her body sideways to avoid it. Water ghosts had the advantage of speed and movement in the water. At this point, she could only worry about herself, helping others near her when she had the chance – some people must have been hit, because amid the huge splash, there were shrill screams of agony and a spray of blood that muddied that patch of water.
Muddy? Murky water?
A thought flashed through Yi Sa’s mind. She quickly took off her clothes and spun them through the water. The water before her was forcefully stirred, immediately becoming unclear. She then drew her Wugui dagger and deliberately cut across her other palm, letting blood immediately surge out and cloud a large area of the water’s surface.
The situation was critical – there was no time for water ghost techniques. People around her quickly followed suit, one after another. Soon the water surface above their heads bloomed with a crimson haze, while everyone linked arms to support each other, trying to sink to the bottom of the water.
But everyone knew they could only hold out for a few more minutes. The bloody water would dissipate quickly, and more importantly, unlike water ghosts, the others couldn’t hold their breath indefinitely.
Glimmers of light appeared through the red haze – that tendril of breathing earth probing down again. This time it had no clear target, just randomly threading through the water, not hitting anyone.
Yi Sa’s heart pounded as she stared intently at the surface above something was even more wrong now. The faint light rippled, seeming to come from more than one source – two, three, then ten or dozens of tendrils, casting countless shadowy traces overhead. But they didn’t attack immediately, as if deliberately trying to increase psychological pressure.
Moreover, the water seemed to be flowing again, the surface level dropping – were they continuing to drain the water?
Two or three people could no longer hold their breath. Desperate for air, they began floating upward without regard for anything else. The people below had no choice but to grip them tightly, watching helplessly as they struggled in the water, air bubbles constantly escaping from their mouths and noses, not knowing whether to let go or hold on – either choice meant death.
Soon, such difficult choices became unnecessary: the water level dropped past their heads, then to waist level, then to their knees. Everyone stood awkwardly in the water, some half-bent over coughing and spitting water, others futilely brandishing their Wugui daggers in threatening slashes at the air…
In the air, those dozens of writhing, dancing tendrils of breathing earth were distributed along the edge of the Taisui’s shell, their tips all sharp, seeming ready to attack at any moment. Yi Sa’s heart went cold: fighting this would be like facing a volley of arrows – dodge one, can’t dodge them all. We’re finished.
Looking down, those people whose heads had been sucked into the breathing earth were no longer floating due to the lowered water level but hung limply beneath the writhing Taisui like strands of dangling beards.
From nearby came Yi Yunqiao’s trembling voice: “Everyone don’t panic, let’s think of another way, keep thinking!”
From behind, Ding Changsheng laughed, though his laughter was broken, sounding like crying: “How can we think of anything? We have no weapons at all!”
Indeed, no weapons. Yi Sa suddenly felt all her energy drain away. Knowing exactly how to deal with the threat but lacking the tools – this feeling was like a skilled hunter encountering a fierce beast without weapons, or like being determined to fight to the death but only able to use your body to block a gun barrel – it was terrible.
Ding Yudi shouted: “When it stabs at us, can we grab onto it? Ride it? Make it unable to shake us off?”
Someone immediately countered: “Useless, it’s as flexible as a snake, it will turn back and bite.”
Ding Panling said in a low voice: “What if we move forward?”
Yi Sa suddenly realized: Yes, forward!
The most dangerous place is also the safest place. If they could get very close to the Taisui, these tendrils would be restrained, not daring to attack recklessly – maybe they could gain a chance at survival.
Everyone exchanged glances, and it wasn’t clear who moved first, but they all began sprinting madly toward the Taisui.
Almost simultaneously, as if sensing their intentions, the breathing earth tendrils above truly did launch like a thousand arrows, stabbing and striking wildly downward.
Everything descended into chaos, and at this point, survival was purely a matter of luck. Yi Sa dodged left and right, her body alternating between hot and cold, unable to even distinguish human figures clearly. Every time she heard a scream, her heart clenched into a knot.
Suddenly, a small butterfly-like shadow flashed before her eyes, accompanied by Ding Yudi’s cry of pain. Without thinking, Yi Sa lunged to grab him, forcefully pulling him down from mid-air – fortunately, he wasn’t hit in any vital spots, only his calf had been pierced. But even so, he screamed like a stuck pig, his volume more terrifying than all the others combined.
Despite the dangerous situation, Yi Sa couldn’t help but think: Ding Yudi could scream so well, it was a waste he hadn’t become a tenor.
She grabbed Ding Yudi’s collar and darted forward. His head retracted into his collar, looking like a headless man, his voice muffled in his clothes, seeming to curse at her, or perhaps cursing in general – it wasn’t clear what he was shouting.
Just then, Yi Sa suddenly heard Zong Hang’s voice: “All of you, roll to the sides!”
Yi Sa and Zong Hang had faced life and death together several times before, developing an instinctive trust: in dangerous moments, whenever they heard each other’s voice if told to dive, they’d dive; if told to crouch, they’d crouch – acting first, questioning later.
This time was no different. Upon hearing his voice, she grabbed Ding Yudi and rolled outward. Fortunately, when everyone had rushed forward, they had clustered in the middle, and the breathing earth had concentrated its attacks on the center, leaving space on both sides…
Yi Sa rolled and hit the ground, then froze: wait, how could it be Zong Hang? Hadn’t they sent him away?
Just as she was about to look back, a column of bright red flames surged upward, the heat wave so intense that even from this distance it forced people’s eyes shut and made breathing difficult. She instinctively lowered her body, using her arm to protect the back of her head, then turned her face to look.
She saw the knee-deep water dyed red by the flames, and Zong Hang wielding a flame thrower, taking large strides forward through the water. He must have been very nervous, continuously shouting as he swept the huge flames around, not even sparing a glance at her – the nozzle spewing deadly flames, sometimes upward, sweeping side to side.
Yi Sa stared at him in amazement.
His outfit was quite strange – two fuel tanks on his back, a first aid kit slung across one shoulder, another bag across the other shoulder, looking like a young soldier in wartime carrying all his belongings while changing positions. His fair face was lit orange by the flames, and perhaps because he was so close to the fire, it was too hot – sweat covered his temples, his cheeks puffed out as if he was using every ounce of strength he had.
Yi Sa sat slumped in the water, suddenly feeling at peace.
Looking into the distance, countless tentacle-like breathing earth tendrils frantically danced and retreated with the flames, but soon lost strength and fell in segments, like burning black limbs dropping down. Small droplets of fuel fell midway, still burning finely on the water’s surface, like glowing red lotus leaves. The flame thrower’s range was continuous, and large flames had already rolled onto the Taisui’s body. Those hanging corpses had practically turned to charcoal – the Taisui’s material must have been highly flammable, as it became a writhing ball of fire almost instantly, making hissing sounds. Soon black smoke and a burnt stench rose between the flames, with ash floating in the air, held aloft by the heat waves, drifting like countless rice-grain-sized black butterflies.
Ding Panling stood up; his clothes had been torn to shreds, suggesting the recent struggle must have been brutal.
He walked to Zong Hang’s side, patted his shoulder, and said: “That’s enough, save some. It’s done now.”
Zong Hang’s finger, which had been rigid on the trigger, began trembling slightly when he stopped. He paused for two or three seconds, then suddenly turned his head anxiously, searching for people.
He saw the corpses, saw some people lying down, some standing…
Finally, he saw Yi Sa. She sat in the water, her hair tips still dripping wet, while the hair on top had been dried by the heat waves, a few strands floating up as if charged with static electricity. Her expression was unreadable – neither annoyed nor pleased. Surely she wouldn’t blame him?
He stammered, slightly embarrassed, lowered his head then raised it again to smile at her, his lips curving to reveal several adorable white teeth.
Yi Sa smiled too. She exhaled, supporting herself on the ground to stand up and go over to him. Just as she raised her waist, someone suddenly grabbed her arm forcefully.
Already weakened from the struggle, Yi Sa’s body swayed, and she fell face-first into the water with a splash.
Meanwhile, Ding Yudi, who had been floating face-down, used this force to successfully sit up, his head finally emerging from his collar. His face covered in what could have been water or tears of excitement, he shouted: “See that! A backup plan! The backup plan I kept!”
Ding Panling hadn’t moved; he was still staring intently at the burning Taisui.
It was now completely engulfed in flames, with carbonized or burning chunks of flesh constantly falling from above…
But Ding Panling felt that somehow, it wasn’t over yet.