When the group woke up and saw the strange and wondrous scene before them, they thought they were still dreaming. Just as they were about to step forward for a closer look, they realized they were tightly bound by ropes, unable to move. Remembering they had been tied up earlier, their hearts filled with dread. Despite the enchanting songs and dances, with beautiful women in front of them, they had no mind to appreciate it. Crying out to the heavens in their misery, calling for their parents in their pain, was only natural. At this moment, faced with life and death, these young scholars, each with ties to their families and the world, found it hard to let go of earthly attachments. Clouded by Yun Cong's cries, they were all reminded of their own lives. One by one, they were overcome with sorrow, and their tears became unstoppable.
At first, they were merely weeping softly, moved by the scene, but as they thought more deeply, their grief grew, and they began wailing loudly. Tears streamed as they looked at each other, each broken-hearted man encountering another, their cries echoed through the air, transforming the Buddhist hall into a place of mourning. Even the dancing women, seeing such a pitiful sight, though fearing the fierce monk and unable to stop, had tearful eyes and missteps in their sorrow.
The fierce monk, who had been in high spirits, was thoroughly displeased by this scene ruining his fun. With a crash of his cymbals, the women and the musicians all returned to their places, and silence once again fell over the hall. The group, overcome by fear, began desperately begging for mercy. The fierce monk ignored them, took up the cymbals beside him, stood up, and with a flick of his hand, sent a golden disc flying toward the first wooden stake. Bound to that stake was Song Shi, who saw the golden object speeding toward him. Unable to dodge, as his hair was tied to the stake, he realized his fate was sealed. Before he could let out a scream, his head was already rolling to the ground. The cymbal had embedded itself deep into the wood, vibrating ominously.
The group initially thought the monk was performing another trick, just like before. Only when they saw Song Shi's head fall did they realize this time, the monk was after their lives. Terrified beyond measure, some continued to beg for their lives, while others fainted from fear. In the blink of an eye, the monk began using the group as targets for his deadly cymbals. With incredible agility, he leaped and spun across the hall, sending cymbal after cymbal flying like shooting stars. None of his strikes missed, and one by one, the group's lives were ended, leaving their bodies scattered across the hall.
In a short time, sixteen cymbals were embedded into the wooden stakes, and the heads of sixteen men had rolled across the courtyard. Only Yun Cong remained, as he was small in stature, and the monk had chosen to target the larger ones first, giving Yun Cong a brief respite. Seeing that his cymbals were used up, and one person still alive, the monk prepared to kill Yun Cong himself. The two women, although they had been with the fierce monk for years and had witnessed many terrible events, had never seen anything this gruesome. Their hearts softened, especially seeing how young Yun Cong was, and with his delicate features, they felt pity for him. One of the women said to the monk, "Master, for our sake, please spare this young boy."
The monk replied, "You don't understand. It is easy to catch a tiger, but hard to release one. His companions all died by my hand; I cannot let him live." Despite this, the two women continued to plead for Yun Cong's life.
Yun Cong, who had resigned himself to death, had remained silent, but hearing someone plead for him, a spark of hope ignited within him. He tearfully begged, "I am from Guiyang, the only son in a family of nine branches. My wandering into this hall was not my doing. Please, master, show mercy and spare my life. If you fear I may reveal your secrets, you can cut out my tongue and fingers. I won't be able to write or speak, so I couldn't betray you. All I wish is to return home and continue my family's lineage. I beg you, master, and you two kind sisters, have mercy!"
He pleaded incoherently for a long time. The monk, having killed so many, grew weary and, swayed by his affection for the two women, said, "Seeing how you beg so desperately, and for the sake of these two beloved women of mine, I'll let you live for three more days." He then instructed the women to call for the guest master and retrieve three sacred items.
The women agreed and left, soon returning with the guest master, who carried a red tray with three items: a small red packet, a coiled rope tied in a decorative knot, and a steel blade. Yun Cong had no idea what these were for, but knew that in three days, he would still die, and continued to beg for his life. The monk ignored him and gave orders: "Take this boy to the stone prison, give him these three sacred items, and also give him some steamed buns to let him live three more days. If he wants to keep his body intact, he can end it himself. On the morning of the fourth day, if he isn't dead, use this blade to take his head and report back to me."
The guest master agreed, walked over to Yun Cong, and untied him from the stake. Yun Cong had been bound for hours, and his body was numb with pain. Exhausted from the terror he had experienced, as soon as the ropes were removed, he collapsed to the ground. The guest master said, "You young noblemen from wealthy families have such good lives at home. Why on earth would you seek your own deaths out here? I am now tasked with putting you in the stone prison, but since you're just a boy, I won't tie you up. Follow me."
Yun Cong, sore and exhausted, could barely move, but had no choice but to follow. With great effort, he stood and weakly trailed after the guest master. They passed through the main hall and across two courtyards until they reached another large hall beside a stone wall, about three meters high. The guest master pushed a stone at the base of the wall, which slowly moved aside to reveal a hidden entrance. Yun Cong realized this was to be his final resting place. Overwhelmed, he knelt down and begged once more, tearfully recounting his family's situation and pleading for mercy.
The guest master, moved by pity, said, "When you first entered the temple, I enjoyed our conversation. I never wished for this to happen. But the situation has escalated beyond my control. My master is strict, and I cannot defy him. Still, we are somewhat connected by fate. While I cannot free you, I can help in other ways. Tell me what you want, and I'll do what I can for you."
Yun Cong, knowing the guest master spoke the truth and that his life was already forfeit, asked only that he not be starved for the next three days so he could at least die with a full stomach. The guest master agreed, handed Yun Cong the three sacred items, and said, "This small packet contains poison. If you want to die quickly, this is the best way. I'll have someone bring you food for the next three days." With that, he pushed Yun Cong into the stone prison and left.
When Yun Cong entered the stone cave, he found it cold and eerie. The stone wall outside had already sealed shut, leaving him in complete darkness. Having grown up in a wealthy family, he had never suffered such hardships. Now, as he recalled the tragic deaths of his companions, it felt as though they were happening before his very eyes. He thought of how his life was now extended by only three days, of his elderly parents and uncles, and how the continuation of the family's nine branches depended solely on him. Facing an unclear and brutal death, his grief deepened, and his heart broke even more.
Just then, someone brought his food for the next three days: a large gourd of water, a big plate of steamed buns, and a few bowls of dishes that he fumbled for in the dark. This was all done out of the guest master's kindness. Yun Cong, however, had no appetite, and he simply wept bitterly. No matter how much he cried, shouting until his voice was hoarse, there was no one to hear him in this forsaken place. He had entered the temple after breakfast, and now it was already the hour of the rooster (5–7 p.m.). After enduring so much suffering, he cried himself to exhaustion and eventually fell into a deep sleep.
When he awoke, he found himself lying against the cold stone wall. Cold, hungry, and heartbroken, he grabbed one of the steamed buns, but after only two bites, thoughts of his parents, uncles, and the danger he was in made him burst into tears again. His crying was as sorrowful as the wails of monkeys in the Wu Gorge, full of piercing anguish.
This cycle of crying himself to exhaustion, sleeping, waking, and crying again continued. Sometimes, he would force himself to eat a little. The cave was so dark that he couldn't tell day from night, and he had no idea how much time had passed. In fact, it was still only the first night, but Yun Cong's mind had become so distressed that he had lost all sense of time. In such darkness, one's eyesight often sharpens, and after spending a full day in the cave, Yun Cong could faintly make out shapes.
Amid his weeping, he suddenly noticed something glowing near him. Reaching for it, he realized it was the steel blade, one of the three sacred items given to him by the monk. He almost cut his hand while picking it up. This reminder of his imminent death caused him to cry even harder. Just then, a cool breeze blew through, followed by a few drops of rain landing on his face. In his dazed and despairing state, the cool wind and rain brought him some clarity.
How could rain enter a cave that never saw the light of day? Suspicion arose in his mind. Suddenly, a flash of light illuminated the cave, and a rumbling sound followed. Startled, Yun Cong looked up and saw a small round hole, about a foot wide, in the ceiling of the cave. When he had first entered, overcome with frustration and despair, he hadn't noticed it due to the overwhelming darkness. Now, with the rain and lightning outside, the hole became apparent, and a glimmer of hope stirred within him.
Standing up, Yun Cong searched around the cave. He realized that the walls were made of bricks and stones, with no clear exit. The hole in the ceiling, though small, was too high to reach—over three meters above the ground. Looking around, he saw that he had only a rope and a steel blade, with no other tools at his disposal. Desperation mounting, he quickly calmed himself and began to think of a way to escape.
He decided to try escaping through the hole in the ceiling. Tying the rope to the middle of the steel blade, he planned to throw it up to catch the edge of the hole and climb out. After spending a great deal of effort, however, he realized that his plan was hopeless. The hole was over three meters high, and the rope was only two meters long. Even if by some miracle the rope caught, he wouldn't be able to jump high enough to grab it. His only chance at survival had evaporated.
Crushed by disappointment, Yun Cong burst into tears once again. Yet, deep down, he couldn't accept dying so easily. After a long time of pondering, a foolish idea struck him. He walked over to the walls and used the blade to prod at the bricks. By chance, two of the bricks seemed slightly loose. Using all his strength, he managed to remove them, filling his heart with joy. He thought he might be able to break through the wall and escape, and eagerly began to dig with the blade.
However, after only a short while, a metallic clang echoed through the cave. When Yun Cong reached in to feel, he realized, to his dismay, that there was a layer of iron between the bricks. His hopes dashed once more, he was overcome with anxiety. Feeling hungry, he returned to the food but tripped over the rope, which immediately sparked a new idea in his mind.
Though he was a weak scholar, at this life-or-death moment, he had no choice but to push through the exhaustion. He grabbed the steel blade and returned to the walls. Using the small gap where he had removed the bricks, he began to pry at the others. By now, the thunder and rain outside had intensified, as if the heavens themselves were showing mercy and aiding him in his escape. Despite this, Yun Cong's strength was limited, and the bricks were incredibly solid. After using up all his energy, he managed to remove only four or five kiln-fired bricks, each about four to five inches thick and a foot wide.
His delicate hands had been cut in several places by the blade's edge. He felt something wet and assumed it was sweat from his exertion. Only when the pain grew did he realize it was blood. Having been pampered and cherished all his life, Yun Cong had never experienced such pain. At first, he hadn't noticed, but as the pain intensified, he found it unbearable. His legs also ached and felt numb from standing so long, and he could no longer support himself. Sitting down on the pile of bricks and stones, he wept bitterly. After crying for a while, his eyes grew heavy, and he drifted off into sleep.