I took several deep breaths to calm myself, suppressing the excitement as I shared my daring speculation with him, "You, sir, are truly a genius. Although the timing and characters don't align, the common factor in our situation is the location. It desires to escape."
"He? Who? Where to? What are you talking about?" Big Head looked at me, utterly bewildered.
I turned to glance back and explained, "According to your observations, it has been lingering near us, but for what purpose? My guess is that it simply wants to get out."
Furrowing his brow, Big Head asked, "I still don't get it. Who are you talking about?"
I guided him, "Do you remember the row of footprints on the second floor of the Zhèn Líng Tower?"
Big Head pondered for a moment and exclaimed, "Fox Tiger King?"
"Yes," I nodded, "Let's assume he didn't die. According to our speculation, there's no true elixir of immortality in the world. The envoy from Bashu merely used the Fox Tiger King to construct the Zhèn Líng Tower, fulfilling his personal agenda. From the bottles, it seems the Fox Tiger King survived in the tomb for a while. However, when he attempted to extract the elixir, he surely discovered he had been deceived. What he obtained was merely a concoction for 'corpse transformation,' turning him into a living dead. Faced with this realization, he must have been shocked and then enraged. What would you do in his situation?"
Caught off guard by my question, Big Head grumbled, "I'd give him a piece of my mind."
Just as I was about to respond, Big Head signaled me to be silent and whispered, "Let's discuss this later. Don't mention it for now; I'm afraid they'll panic. Let's continue walking, and keep an eye out."
Old Wan wondered why it took so long, and I fabricated a story, saying that someone needed to relieve themselves, and I had urged them for a while. Despite their skepticism, we pressed on.
After walking for hours, we discovered we had entered a massive underground quarry. It seemed that the stones for the Zhèn Líng Tower and the underground palace were extracted from here. During our journey, we also stumbled upon unfinished door lintels and pillar foundations, along with rusty, flat-bladed tools. Old Wan deduced that this area served both for stone extraction and processing.
Feeling exhausted and with little energy left, I suggested taking a break in this area. We were all fatigued, and continuing the strenuous march might be counterproductive. Big Head agreed, mentioning that the path we had taken was a long, winding mule track. Workers wouldn't use the same route every time; there should be another exit leading to the surface ahead.
After giving Li Xin some water, we noticed that his fever hadn't subsided. Old Wan sat beside him, looking considerably weary. Since the deaths of the Zhao brothers, he had been despondent. I felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that this man, once a prominent figure in Changsha, had ended up in this situation due to his loyalty to me. However, I had no idea how to comfort him.
He seemed to sense my thoughts and forced a smile, shaking his head, "Young Master, there's no need to worry. I, Song, can endure these minor setbacks. It's just a pity for the two comrades."
I hurriedly reassured him, "At least our journey wasn't in vain. Big Head salvaged a batch of fine artifacts, and the share for the Zhao brothers will remain intact. Moreover, this forms a bond that goes beyond mere business. In the future, Dragon Mountain Pavilion can have more collaborations with Qinhan Hall."
Listening to my words, Old Wan's expression eased a bit. I understood that, for someone like him, a Southern Confucian scholar, Dragon Mountain Pavilion was a crucial gateway to the Northern market. It wasn't something any horse or man could just claim. A strong dragon still suppressed local serpents, especially when Dragon Mountain Pavilion was a python in the vast city of Forty-Nine.
As we chatted, our bodies felt fatigued but spirited. I knew we had reached the stage of "returning light." We had consumed a considerable amount of personal essence in reaching this point, combined with the various injuries I had sustained. Lying down didn't provide any comfort.
After resting for about an hour, unable to fall asleep, I faintly heard a mournful scream in the distance. I sat up abruptly, and despite everyone around me being in deep slumber, Big Head was still awake, keeping a vigilant watch with his flashlight.
Approaching him, I asked if he heard anything. He drowsily questioned my sanity, but I dismissed it, thinking my nerves were on edge. I told him to get some sleep while I kept watch. Reluctantly, he agreed and, within minutes, began snoring.
Leaning against a stone pillar in boredom, I felt the urge to smoke. Fumbling through my pockets, I realized I had neither cigarettes nor a lighter. I sighed, realizing I wasn't cut out for these hardships. This was only my second venture underground, and I had nearly rendered myself useless.
Standing up to stretch, the surroundings were pitch black. Broken statues cast eerie shadows in the flashlight's glow, creating strange silhouettes. Feeling uneasy, I quickly returned to the group.
As I sat there, fatigue overcame me, and my eyes drooped. Just as I was about to drift into sleep, a peculiar shadow among the stone carvings caught my attention. It seemed to move. My senses heightened, and upon closer inspection, I recognized it as a person, slowly approaching.
My initial instinct was that the malevolent entity from behind was about to strike. However, upon closer scrutiny, the figure seemed familiar. Han Sheng, carrying his silver spear, emerged, tattered and covered in blood. I rushed over, and he greeted me with a blood-stained smile, revealing unnaturally white teeth.
Concerned about his injuries, I asked, "Where are you hurt?"
Exhaling deeply, he wiped the corner of his mouth with blood and replied, "Don't worry, Second Master. This blood isn't mine."
I dismissed his reassurance, expressing my anxiety about his reckless actions. I told him that if he had died, at least I could continue with a clear conscience. I scolded him for not charging into danger alone and emphasized that we faced threats together, even if it meant death. My frustration verged on tears.
He scratched his head, "Understood, Second Master."
We walked back together, and a sudden thought struck me. I asked, "By the way, did you see anything when you caught up from behind?"
With a meaningful glance, he casually responded, "No."
A sense of foreboding lingered, but I chose not to dwell on it, relieved that he had returned alive.
I kicked Big Head awake, and upon realizing Han Sheng had returned, he excitedly exclaimed, "Brother, you're a true hero!"
Zhao Min and Old Wan also woke up, their expressions lighting up at Han Sheng's return. I suggested he take some rest, but he insisted on continuing. He believed it was better to leave as soon as
possible, and we concurred. Reluctantly, we resumed our journey.
The subsequent journey consisted of stops and starts. Without provisions, everyone appeared lethargic. There isn't much to recount about this part of the journey, sustained only by the water Big Head had collected. A day passed through sheer determination. On the second day, we stumbled upon a stagnant water pool, and to our surprise, Zhao Min discovered some decaying roots in the mud. This discovery lifted our spirits, indicating we were close to the surface.
As we continued forward, a landslide obstructed our path. Initially intending to detour, Han Sheng insisted on this route. We spent hours clearing the debris. Exhausted and struggling to stand straight, Big Head exclaimed, "It's open!"
We entered one by one, and as soon as we stepped outside, Big Head froze. Pointing through the gap, he trembled uncontrollably. Puzzled, I rushed out and, upon seeing the scene, couldn't help but wryly smile.
This collapse occurred exactly in the funerary pit passageway where we initially entered. At the time, we noticed one side had collapsed, so we chose the other side. Unexpectedly, the collapsed section connected directly to the underground quarry.
Emerging into the sunlight after so long, everyone found it challenging to open their eyes. Surrounded by lush trees and the symphony of birds, I experienced an unreal sensation, as if everything were a dream.
Rather than immediately rushing out, we revisited the place where we were ambushed. Several trees had been knocked down, tents trampled, and chaos ensued. After searching for a while, we found the two missing backpacks. Though scattered, the medicine box and some compressed rations were still intact.
Han Sheng, observing the backpacks, asked, "Did you open these?"
Glancing at them, I casually denied it. However, upon closer inspection, with their zippers intact, it was evident that these weren't the result of lizard attacks. My heart sank. "Someone... was here?"
He nodded, and Big Head seized the opportunity to tease, "I told you, things didn't feel right back then. Those creatures were too organized. Before setting up camp, I even checked for large animal dung nearby. How could those things travel such a distance to attack us?"
Zhao Min suggested, "They seemed like they were being controlled."
Big Head chimed in, "Look, look at her. Our dear Zhao is speaking the truth. But you guys accused me of making up stories about urinating."
While they bantered, Zhao Min asked, "Who could it be?"
Firmly, Big Head asserted, "It must be that old man Cai. Besides him, who else knew we were here? His actions clearly indicate he doesn't want us to find the tomb and is willing to go to great lengths."
This time, I agreed with Big Head. If the lizards were indeed manipulated, it had to be an experienced individual.
Ever since Han Sheng returned, Big Head no longer sensed being followed. Recalling the distant screams, I couldn't shake the shocking speculation forming in my mind. Shaking my head, I directed my gaze toward the mysterious unknown depths of the mountain forest, convincing myself that it was all in the past.