The deeper they went into the cave, the more humid it became. The beam of Lin Jing’s flashlight stretched far ahead like a long, narrow column of light.
Above them, bats hung in rows, their tiny red eyes glinting in the darkness, silently watching.
Blondie shivered, rubbing his arms as he muttered, “What the h*ll is this? This is supposed to be a celestial haven? Looks more like a haunted tomb or some ghost house to me.”
Having spent some time together, Xiao Xu was now somewhat used to his antics. She chuckled, “If it were really a celestial haven, we wouldn’t be dealing with all this.”
The ground beneath them was damp and muddy. At a fork in the path, they followed the direction where the moisture increased. After walking through a narrow, dark passage for what felt like ages, they finally reached the main chamber of the cave—and saw the deep pool the village chief had described as the former “Spirit Mountain Eye.”
The chamber, situated at the mountain’s base, was spacious. The stone walls were naturally formed, and while the ground was overgrown with weeds, the pool itself remained unchanged over the centuries. It was beside this pool that the villagers had dismembered and drained the creature’s blood. Even after a hundred years, the black pool still bore traces of blood and claw marks, evidence of the brutal and bloody scene.
“This water doesn’t move at all,” Xixi noted, leaning closer in curiosity. Having spent so long in this supernatural scenario, her courage seemed to have grown.
“It doesn’t move?” Feng Haozhong, standing nearby, reached out to touch the pool. The moment his hand entered, it felt as though he’d plunged into black sludge. A force began pulling him downward. His face turned pale, and he quickly withdrew his hand.
Xixi asked in confusion, “You look really pale. How do you feel?”
Feng Haozhong’s expression was grim. After being rescued by two girls on Spirit Mountain and then getting completely humiliated by Lin Jing, his arrogance had faded quite a bit. He frowned and warned Xixi, “Don’t reach out and touch it. This pool is really strange.”
Xixi hesitated. “Okay.”
Lin Jing shone his flashlight around the pool’s edge and said, “Since this used to be Spirit Mountain Eye, of course, it’s strange. Let’s find the inscription the villagers saw back then.”
That was the real reason he had come into the cave.
The stone walls were covered in moss. Lin Jing scraped at it with a wooden stick for a while before finally revealing a line of deeply etched characters in the center of the cave wall. Every stroke of the carving radiated an ancient, mysterious power.
“The Soul of Spirit Mountain guards Spirit Mountain Eye, never leaving, generation after generation.”
Below it was a smaller inscription explaining Spirit Mountain Eye:
“A passage between the realms of yin and yang, a door through life and death.”
Lin Jing let out a soft sigh. The Door of Life and Death… After all this chaos, they were finally face-to-face with the title itself.
If what the village chief said was true, and the monster guarding Spirit Mountain had already turned to dust, its consciousness now unpredictable, then searching for the Door of Life and Death would be like finding a needle in a haystack.
Once again, they were stuck.
When they returned to the village chief’s house, he was already looking at them with a mocking expression, humming a little tune in schadenfreude. Their failure was exactly what he had expected.
Ever since he had laid everything bare, the village chief didn’t bother hiding anything anymore. The second floor was completely open—scarecrows roamed freely, ghosts drifted about, and sometimes, opening a door would result in a severed head rolling out.
The elderly men in burial robes, after lying in their coffins for too long, would get sore backs and stiff joints, constantly stretching their bodies—sometimes clinging to the ceiling, sometimes sprawled across beds and cabinets.
The eerie atmosphere nearly drove Blondie insane. He could barely sleep at night, his nerves completely shot, and his dark circles were terrifyingly deep.
The village chief, who had been angered countless times over the past few days, was now completely at ease. His withered hands held a spoon as he calmly sipped porridge, ignoring their dejected expressions.
Even mealtimes were far from peaceful. A tall, thin scarecrow crouched under the table, making an unsettling kakaka sound as it chewed on something.
Blondie finally snapped, clutching his head in despair. “Ancestor! I’ll call you ancestor, okay?! Can you please—please—send all these things back upstairs? I’m begging you, ancestor!”
The village chief, finally getting his revenge, gave him a sinister glare and sneered, “No. This is my house. Stay if you want, and if you don’t—get lost.”
Blondie: “…….”
Feng Haozhong wasn’t so easily scared, but he was frustrated for a different reason. “If finding the Spirit Mountain Eye depends purely on luck, it’s practically impossible to locate!”
Only one day remained until the seven-day deadline. If they failed to find it, all their efforts would be wasted. The most unforgiving aspect of Survivor was its ruthless scoring system—failing deducted far more points than succeeding added. This wasn’t a game where more time guaranteed better rewards; every round mattered immensely.
The village chief, sipping porridge with his poor teeth, remained silent until he finished his bowl. Then, he spoke slowly, “Young people, would it kill you to use your brains a bit more?”
“…….” Was he mocking them now?
Feng Haozhong was so furious he nearly lunged at the NPC.
The village chief set his bowl and chopsticks down and glanced at Lin Jing.
Unlike the anxious and irritated expressions of everyone else, Lin Jing was calmly and obediently eating his meal. No matter the situation, he never skimped on eating or sleeping.
He looked perfectly composed, but appearances could be deceiving. The things Lin Jing had done were anything but human-like. The village chief quickly shook off these thoughts—dwelling on them only made his blood boil. After swallowing his last mouthful, the village chief sneered, “The final step is so simple. If you can’t succeed, then you deserve to fail for being so dumb.”
After his jab, he gave a crooked grin and ignored the enraged group. Turning away, he headed upstairs.
Feng Haozhong’s face turned a sickly shade of green. “What the h*ll!”
With the village chief gone, the seven of them were left to themselves. It was the sixth night, likely their last chance for a team meeting.
Feng Haozhong couldn’t stand staying indoors any longer. “Let’s discuss this outside,” he suggested. Realizing his tone sounded off, he quickly added, “This house is full of ghosts and monsters. It’s hard to talk freely.”
The disastrous corpse-carrying trek up Spirit Mountain had shaken him deeply. Even this once-arrogant man now spoke more reasonably.
Naturally, everyone agreed—who would want to hold a serious discussion in a haunted house?
Seated at a stone table in the courtyard, Feng Haozhong even took the initiative to ask, “Lin Jing, do you have any ideas?”
His attitude was surprisingly polite, showing no trace of the earlier hostility. In fact, there was even a hint of deference.
Lin Jing quietly bit into a crisp cucumber and replied, “Not at the moment.”
His response left the group in silence. At that moment, they realized that since entering The Door of Life and Death, all the critical clues—curses, Spirit Mountain, scarecrows, and red cloth—had been discovered solely by Lin Jing. The others had, at best, found a single grave. If Lin Jing said he had no ideas, the entire group’s train of thought immediately hit a dead end.
Feng Haozhong pursed his lips, the awkwardness and frustration spreading from his chest, leaving him speechless.
“Hey, hey, Brother Lin, give me some!” Blondie, ever the laid-back joker, felt no tension whatsoever. Having barely eaten or drunk anything in the haunted house, he was now parched and begged Lin Jing to share his cucumber.
Lin Jing glanced at him briefly but, good-natured as always, split the cucumber in half.
Then, Xu Wanzhi suddenly spoke up, “I want some too.”
Lin Jing shot him a glance as well. Fine. Sharing a bed with Xu Wanzhi for so long, there was at least some sense of camaraderie. Just as he was about to halve the portion meant for Blondie, Xu Wanzhi reached over and took the part Lin Jing had already bitten into. Without hesitation, he took a bite himself.
The others: “……..”
Lin Jing chuckled in disbelief, then started eating the remaining half meant for Blondie. Casually, he told Blondie, “If you want some, go wash one yourself.”
Blondie: “???”
He was full of questions.
Feng Haozhong sat to the side, too angry to speak.
The supposedly serious, life-or-death final meeting, and these two are flirting?! Eating cucumbers?! Have they never eaten before?! He was fuming.
Xiao Xu broke the awkward silence. “Why don’t we go ask the station chief again? As a key NPC, he must know a lot.”
Liu Cheng pushed his glasses up and timidly agreed, “Scar Bro should also have a lot of secrets.”
Lin Jing, munching on his crisp cucumber, mumbled, “Even if they know, they won’t tell us.”
Scar Bro didn’t exactly seem like the approachable type. Anyone with a scar on their head was bound to be tough.
Feng Haozhong, barely containing his frustration, found himself irritated with the two “lovebirds.” While he respected Lin Jing now, he couldn’t help but vent his pent-up anger toward Xu Wanzhi. After all, Xu Wanzhi had barely contributed.
Lowering his head, Feng Haozhong grumbled sarcastically, “How do you know without trying? I’m just saying, it’s the last day. Even if you don’t care, at least make it look like you’re trying.”
Lin Jing chuckled, nudging Xu Wanzhi with his elbow. “Did you hear that? He’s talking about you. It’s the last day—do us a favor and pretend to care.”
Feng Haozhong was used to picking on the weak, so he kept his head down, staring at his hands, and muttered, “We’re all teammates. It’s not fair to let others do all the work.”
Lin Jing took another bite of cucumber, his teeth gleaming white. “Exactly. Making others do everything while you sleep all day—where’s the justice in that?”
Xu Wanzhi tilted his head, his beautiful, icy eyes fixed silently on Lin Jing.
Lin Jing met his gaze without fear, smiling. “You should reflect on that. Otherwise, someone might report you.”
Xu Wanzhi’s tone was calm. “Do you really want me to participate in the game?”
Lin Jing: “Aren’t you already in the game?”
Xu Wanzhi touched the prayer beads on his wrist, lowering his gaze without responding.
Feng Haozhong: “…….” Even though Lin Jing seemed to side with him in teasing Xu Wanzhi, why did it still feel like they were flirting?! No matter what they did, it always came off as romantic—was this just how gay couples operated?
Blondie jumped in, cheerfully stirring the pot. “Yeah, Brother Xu! You made a big splash on the first day—help us out on the last day too. You’re so strong—save the kids, please!”
The two girls didn’t speak, but their expectant gazes were fixed on Xu Wanzhi.
Blondie, riding the wave of enthusiasm, chimed in cheerfully, “Brother Xu, what’s your take on the Spirit Mountain Eye?”
Xu Wanzhi raised his eyes to the group. Always an outsider, this was the first time he had been the center of attention. His expression turned a bit peculiar. Then, his pale, slender fingers tapped lightly on the table as he nonchalantly remarked, “I think the only useful clue at the police station is probably that signboard at the entrance.”
“Huh?!” The entire group seemed to snap to attention as if suddenly enlightened, sitting up straight and staring at him.
The courtyard, shadowed by a ghost-attracting locust tree, bathed in murky, eerie moonlight, seemed to highlight the red tear mole near Xu Wanzhi’s eye.
He appeared to smile faintly, but the distant smile faded almost instantly. In a lazy tone, he continued, “The three rules on it. First, no cutting trees, but chopping down trees in the firewood forest summoned the cursed children. Second, no setting fires, but starting a fire on Spirit Mountain brought out the undead from the coffin. So…” He tilted his head, his gaze locking onto Lin Jing’s. “The third rule—no hunting animals—could it summon the creature guarding the Spirit Mountain Eye?”
Lin Jing froze.
He’d had his own theory, but it was entirely different from Xu Wanzhi’s. Now, following his line of thought, it actually seemed plausible.
The signboard, visible the moment anyone ascended the mountain or entered the village, bore three blood-red rules. If the first two pointed to danger, there was no reason the third would be insignificant.
Feng Haozhong slapped his thigh, as if awakening from a dream. “That’s right! That wooden sign—it’s the first thing we saw going up the mountain! The warnings placed at the forefront are usually critical clues!”
Since Lin Jing had never concealed his actions, everyone was aware of what had happened thus far.
Feng Haozhong sank deeper into his train of thought, becoming more convinced as he spoke. “The rule against cutting trees exists because chopping down trees caused the cursed children to appear. The rule against setting fires exists because fire provokes the undead to rise from their coffins. So, does the rule against hunting animals mean that spilling blood might attract the monster—or that the monster’s consciousness now resides in one of the animals on Spirit Mountain?”
He rubbed his chin, muttering, “Did you guys notice? While climbing Spirit Mountain, we didn’t see any large wildlife—only insects.”
Xixi’s eyes lit up instantly. “Yes! Now that you mention it, the whole mountain was eerily quiet. Other than the trees and the dead, there were no animals.”
Feng Haozhong’s tone carried a hint of pride. “Exactly. The only animals we’ve seen were the bats, snakes, and rats in that cave.”
The more Feng Haozhong spoke, the more convinced he became. “That cave is likely the monster’s lair. Even if its physical body was reduced to ashes, its spirit could’ve returned and attached itself to one of those animals. Hunting animals would inevitably shed blood. That monster was dismembered and drained of blood before it died. Seeing something similar might drive it insane. If we capture it and follow it, we might find the new Spirit Mountain Eye and jump into it to clear the game.”
It was the sixth day. After days in this cursed village, enduring poor food and worse sleep, the thought of clearing the game made everyone feel that the struggle had been worth it.
Liu Cheng’s face flushed with excitement. “Brother Feng, you’re amazing! Looks like the very first thing we saw was the most important clue!”
Xiao Xu let out a breath. “Now that we have a plan, we’ll head back to the cave tomorrow.”
Lin Jing finished the last bite of his cucumber, his expression somewhat gloomy. “I still think we shouldn’t deliberately break that rule.”
All eyes immediately turned to him.
Feng Haozhong said, “You’ve been locked up by Scar Bro at the police station twice, and now you’re telling me this?”
Lin Jing: “…….”
He couldn’t come up with a rebuttal. Fine, he was in no position to argue.
Still, he had never intended to break the rules! He didn’t want another trip to drink tea!
Human nature often works like this: when someone is told the answer outright, they instinctively doubt it and nitpick. But when given a hint and left to deduce the answer themselves, they become infatuated with their own reasoning and trust it completely.
Feng Haozhong was no exception.
The existence of the three rules clearly served a purpose. The signboard at the village entrance was something Scar Bro valued highly—how could it not be significant?
Now, it all seemed to make sense.
Having shown off his reasoning, Feng Haozhong regained his dignity as a 24-point player and felt thoroughly satisfied.
Reflecting on this game, it truly had been the most bizarre one he had ever played.
The bizarre part was undoubtedly Lin Jing and Xu Wanzhi. They managed to infuriate NPCs to the point of spitting blood and still had the audacity to flirt openly in a horror game.
In past horror modes, the NPCs were all eerie and menacing—like little girls in red dresses or ghostly brides with disheveled hair—leaving players constantly on edge. Even the shriveled village chief this time had initially seemed unapproachable. But Lin Jing, this genius seemingly blessed by divine enlightenment, had stood out. On their trip to the forest, no one had planned to take anything. Yet Lin Jing led the charge, stealing the village chief’s possessions—grabbing the cloth drying on the railing and the flashlight in his room.
The others, emboldened, followed suit, taking hoes and axes. Lin Jing had turned the village into his personal playground, forcing even the village chief to adopt an oddly amiable demeanor.
Feng Haozhong, in high spirits, wasn’t even aiming for the legendary full score of 25 points. With seven days spent in the game, the guaranteed minimum score was seven points. Seven points in hand was a solid win.
Now, even Lin Jing seemed agreeable. Able to adapt and reconcile, Feng Haozhong decided to let bygones be bygones. Smiling, he said, “This time, I really owe you one. Sorry for being prejudiced before.”
Lin Jing felt he was celebrating too early but had no reason to object. Hearing his apology, he replied graciously, “It’s fine. We’re all teammates.”
From the moment he entered the game, Lin Jing had already decided to carry the team. His teammates were lucky to have him.
Feng Haozhong asked curiously, “Are you really a zero-pointer, Lin Jing? With how you’ve played, your mental power must be pretty high.”
This was a question many people wanted to ask.
A person’s intuition, judgment, execution, and even physical and intellectual abilities were all somewhat tied to mental power. Those with high innate mental power levels were naturally gifted and often destined for greatness.
Many top-tier research and military positions required high levels of mental power, and even some elite universities had strict standards for it.
However, it wasn’t absolute; otherwise, mental power certification wouldn’t exist.
Some people were born with average levels but, through diligence and hard work, could achieve greatness. These individuals could apply for an evaluation, where the Empire’s designated evaluators would determine their level and grant a certificate. However, the process was complex and lengthy. Nowadays, the fastest and simplest way to demonstrate mental power was likely climbing the leaderboard in Survivor.
“Fast and simple” was relative, though—it was fiercely competitive, like a massive army crossing a single-log bridge. Looking at the top ten on the Survivor leaderboard, every one of them was born with an innate S rank. For an average person to snatch a spot from them was akin to a pipe dream.
As a result, most people entered the game either to have fun or to make money. To incentivize participation, the research institute allowed game points to be exchanged for currency, and achieving a certain ranking came with cash rewards.
Lin Jing was briefly startled but said, “Not bad, just average.” Average SS.
Feng Haozhong, sensing his deliberate downplay, tactfully refrained from prying further. He guessed Lin Jing might be, at most, a B+.
Blondie glanced at the large black cow in the cowshed, then at the high wall surrounding the courtyard. The village chief’s home was in the most isolated spot, deliberately cut off from the rest of the world. Aside from their first trip to the market, they hadn’t seen any other villagers.
Beyond the wall, the mountain’s silhouette was as dark as a beast’s spine, faintly illuminated by pale moonlight. This cursed village, despite its eerie unrest, was silently protected by someone. The Xu family had once committed heinous crimes centuries ago, yet 200 years later, another pair of Xu brothers had rooted themselves here, quietly bearing the burden of it all.
Blondie sighed. “So Scar Bro and the village chief are actually good people.”
Liu Cheng thought for a moment and said, “Maybe they’re atoning for sins.”
Blondie lamented, “Why pursue immortality in the first place? Death is inherently mysterious. People revere ghosts and fear monsters—so why not show some reverence for death itself, which brings forth these ghosts and monsters?” He scratched his head, sighing, “I sound like a school kid writing a diary.”
Lin Jing couldn’t help but laugh. “My dad would probably love a kid like you.”
He remembered how Professor Lin used to make him keep a diary. The design of this level was likely intended to instill respect for death.
With this matter settled, Blondie didn’t forget to praise Xu Wanzhi before leaving. “Brother Xu really is the type to stay quiet until it matters. Just a few words, and you nailed the key point.”
Late at night, Xu Wanzhi, now sleepy, gave a good-natured smile but said nothing.
Lin Jing: “……”
Though they hadn’t known each other long, Lin Jing felt that if Xu Wanzhi wanted to make a mark, this was just the tip of the iceberg.
No one slept well on the last night. Determined, they were up before dawn. While the village chief was still asleep, they picked the lock again and stole a stash of knives and sticks.
Xu Wanzhi, hands in his pockets, stood in the morning glow, unusually energetic. Catching Lin Jing’s strange gaze, he even winked, his long lashes and lazy smile radiating a soft warmth.
“……”
Lin Jing’s already peculiar feelings grew even more inexplicable.
Although leaving the village was technically forbidden, the village chief had communicated with Scar Bro, so as they marched out in a grand procession, Scar Bro merely stood at the gate, coldly watching.
Despite being “invited” for tea twice, Lin Jing bore no grudge against Scar Bro now.
Scar Bro’s towering frame nearly matched the height of the gate. With his bald head, scarred, fleshy face, and crimson scar on his forehead, his expression, when menacing, was genuinely terrifying, like a crazed murderer. He leaned against the gate, his gaze murky and icy as he watched them leave.
Blondie shuddered. “You know, this scene reminds me of those old school textbooks, where a grandfather watches his grandkids head off to school. Except this grandpa looks like he’d eat people.”
Lin Jing: “So now you’re his grandson?”
Blondie: “……”
Leading the group, Feng Haozhong, having proposed the critical plan, was brimming with excitement. For the first time in seven days, he showed a hint of chivalry. “The two girls should stay in the back. Hunting animals is bloody work—we’ll handle it. Go for the snake’s head first, sever it cleanly, then let it bleed. Just one or two animals should do the trick.”
Xixi, holding Xiao Xu’s arm, nodded obediently.
Lin Jing had no intention of entering the cave with them. The whole thing felt off.
No matter how you framed it, breaking the village’s rules was unwise. He couldn’t imagine violating all three iron-clad rules within just seven days. That was way above his pay grade.
Blondie, ever the chatterbox, finally let loose on the last day. Looking at the cliffside and Spirit Mountain, dotted with rows of coffins, he muttered, “If I were from this village, I’d have moved out ages ago. The feng shui here is terrible. What kind of mindset keeps these people here for generations?”
Lin Jing replied, “It’s probably about not forgetting their homeland.”
Blondie suddenly had a bright idea. “If people don’t want to move, then move the mountain! There’s that old story about the Foolish Old Man moving mountains, right? Imagine: I move a little dirt each day, no big deal, then pass the habit to my son, who passes it to his son, and so on. Generations later, the mountain would be gone.”
Lin Jing, distracted with his own thoughts, only caught the first part about passing things to his son. Without thinking, he asked, “You have a partner?”
Blondie froze mid-ramble. His smile vanished.
After a long silence, he cursed under his breath, “D*mn it!”
It was bad enough watching couples flaunt their affection daily—why did they have to bully single people too?
The perpetually single Blondie stormed off in a huff, muttering curses as he went to join the two girls at the front.
Lin Jing was utterly baffled: “…….”
What did he say that was so over the line?
Lin Jing tilted his head and asked Xu Wanzhi, “Is Blondie okay?”
Perhaps because they were about to leave the game, Xu Wanzhi was in a good mood. Meeting Lin Jing’s confused gaze, he smiled and said, “Maybe he’s jealous you have a boyfriend.”
Lin Jing replied, “Oh, sure.”
After all, once this game was over, they’d never see each other again. This running gag would only last for a day.
Lin Jing’s impression of Blondie was that he was an average young man with no ambition, living life without a care. After all, what could you expect from someone whose personal motto was “Don’t bully the poor young, the poor middle-aged, or the poor old. Respect the dead.” That motto would likely serve as his epitaph, engraved on his coffin—a fitting summary of his life.
The mist over Spirit Mountain was thinner today, and the sunlight glimmered off the green leaves of the forest.
At the mountain’s base, Feng Haozhong led the group in a bold charge toward the cave, but Lin Jing stopped at the entrance. He said, “Let’s save breaking the third rule for last. I have an idea—how about we go back to the mountaintop first?”
Feng Haozhong frowned. “We’re already at the cave. Why wait until the end? Are you still afraid of breaking the rules? You’ve already been invited for tea with Scar Bro twice! Who’s going to believe you’re worried about rules? And besides, nothing happened the last two times you broke them.”
The fact that nothing happened during the previous rule-breaking incidents was what puzzled Lin Jing the most—and what made everyone else more determined.
Lin Jing gave a small smirk. This situation was awkward because if someone else had been the one to break the rules, he wouldn’t feel so guilty.
Xu Wanzhi chuckled beside him, his tone casual. “You’re really burning yourself out for your teammates.”
Lin Jing touched his nose and said, “First game—just trying to build some karma.”
But Survivor was, after all, just a game, and everyone had their own way of playing it. He’d offer advice but wouldn’t force it on anyone. Like last time, when Feng Haozhong stubbornly refused to tie the scarecrow’s feet, Lin Jing didn’t bother arguing.
Lin Jing said, “Alright then, let’s split up. I’ll go to the mountaintop.”
Feng Haozhong scowled but, given that they’d only recently patched things up, refrained from lashing out. He nodded grudgingly. “Fine. But if we leave without you and you fail, don’t blame me.”
Lin Jing replied, “Got it.”
Blondie was torn. Feng Haozhong’s reasoning made sense, and this plan had been inspired by Brother Xu’s advice—victory was within reach! But Lin Jing was the leader he’d followed all along, and choosing between them was agonizing.
Blondie hesitated and asked weakly, “Brother Lin, are you sure you’re not coming with us? Even if we fail, we could go to the mountaintop together afterward.”
Lin Jing glanced at his wrist and said, “There’s no time.”
The blue and red veins on his arm had already turned black.
The game’s timeline was seven days, but no one knew the exact endpoint.
Though he’d entered the game half a day late, his teammates had started in the morning.
Lin Jing had always trusted his instincts, even when he doubted the three village rules or when Feng Haozhong’s reasoning seemed logical.
But wrong was wrong. From the moment he’d heard Dahu explain the village rules, he’d never intended to break them on purpose. That hadn’t changed.
Fate was a curious thing.
Their shared fate in this game probably ended here.
Lin Jing smiled at the group, then turned and walked toward the mountain. “See you if we’re fated.”
Feng Haozhong snorted and turned his head away in annoyance.
Xu Wanzhi didn’t follow Lin Jing this time. He didn’t even glance back, instead raising his lantern and silently heading deeper into the pitch-black cave.
The group, initially worried about Lin Jing’s departure, felt oddly relieved.
Xiao Xu asked, “What’s Lin Jing going to do on the mountaintop?”
Xixi scratched her hair in confusion. “I’m puzzled too. We’ve searched the mountaintop before, combed through the forest, and found nothing. So many clues point to this cave—why leave at such a critical moment?”
Blondie hesitated, scratching his head before finally dashing out.
No, he couldn’t just leave Brother Lin alone. Without Brother Lin, he wouldn’t even be here. Gasping for breath at the cave’s entrance, he shouted with every ounce of strength, “Brother Lin, wait for me! What are you doing? I’ll—”
Be with you.
Every word came from the heart!
Lin Jing turned back from the mountain path, his brown eyes filled with genuine confusion. “I’m going to jump off a cliff. Want to come?”
Blondie: “…….”
Never mind, then.
He swallowed the rest of his heartfelt words, released his grip on the cave wall, and made a supportive gesture. “I’ll cheer you on. Good luck.”
Then, silently, he shuffled back.
Standing amidst the verdant foliage, Lin Jing chuckled, muttering a curse as he rubbed his temples. Blondie was truly pampered.
Jumping off a cliff? The people inside the cave overheard those words and smirked, convinced Lin Jing’s brain worked in mysterious ways.
Only Xu Wanzhi, holding the lantern at the front, allowed the faintest hint of a smile to cross his lips.
Lin Jing started running uphill. As the sunlight pierced through, it dispersed the mountain’s faint, chilly mist.
In the cave, Feng Haozhong struck a venomous snake with his stick, pinning its head before stabbing its body. Blood dripped onto the mossy ground.
“This has to be right.”
The snake’s blood slowly seeped into the earth, spreading throughout the mountain as though awakening it.
At the local police station, Scar Bro stared at a computer screen displaying a 3D map of the area, marked in red and green. He watched as a black dot appeared at the base of Spirit Mountain and began to spread. His gaze showed no anger—only numb indifference.
Meanwhile, climbing the mountain unburdened was relatively easy for Lin Jing.
Halfway up, he noticed something strange. The mountain mist had grown lighter and taken on a reddish hue, like tendrils of smoke curling around the area. A faint vibration rose from beneath his feet. Snapping a branch and listening to its crisp sound, Lin Jing muttered to himself, “Why does it feel like they’re going to screw me over?”
In the cave, Xu Wanzhi observed them indifferently.
“Why hasn’t anything happened yet? Is there not enough blood?”
When it came to venomous snakes, even in reality, chopping them into pieces wouldn’t weigh on one’s conscience—let alone in a game, where they were nothing more than data.
Feng Haozhong had killed countless snakes, filling the cave with the metallic scent of blood.
Twisted carcasses lay everywhere, and the green moss was dyed crimson. Yet, no strange phenomenon appeared.
Liu Cheng said, “I’ve got a hammer. If we use it, we can smash them to bits faster.”
“That works—let’s speed this up.”
The two girls stood pale and silent on the sidelines, watching the gruesome carnage.
Dead rats, toads, venomous snakes, bats—corpse after corpse littered the cave, and blood spattered the walls. It looked like a slaughterhouse. Finally, after severing the last snake’s head, the blood soaked into the moss and flowed toward the black pool, surrounding it. Slowly, the blood seeped into the pool. The entire cave began to tremble, and everyone froze, elation spreading across their faces.
“Did it work? Did we succeed?”
Xu Wanzhi stood back, bored, watching their excitement.
The tremors matched the rhythm of the red string on his wrist.
Liu Cheng and Feng Haozhong hugged each other, crying tears of joy. “We can finally leave!”
The vibrations grew stronger. A faint sound came, and the red string snapped.
The dull brown prayer bead burst into a dazzling light, its brightness piercing the cave’s darkness and drawing everyone’s gaze. The intense red glow radiated a pure, sacred energy, even after being close to malevolent forces for so long.
But it felt like a fleeting moment—a final flare before its light dimmed. After the resounding chime of Buddhist compassion faded, the light extinguished entirely.
The group froze in disbelief, staring blankly at their aloof, perpetually drowsy-seeming teammate.
Xu Wanzhi, his expression casual, reached out, snapped the prayer bead from the string, and tossed it into the black pool.
He was handsome, his features carrying an air of unruly elegance. Even in the sinister cave, he seemed to exude a touch of malevolence.
“Brother Xu…”
Xu Wanzhi flashed a languid, roguish smile. “Congratulations—you’re free to leave now.”
“…”
A deafening silence fell over the group. A terrifying thought crept into their minds.
By the time Lin Jing reached the mountaintop, the entire forest below was aglow with red light. He crouched down, gazing at the coffins beneath him, and murmured, “Deforestation, I only chopped down one tree. Setting fires, the flames only burned briefly. Perhaps that’s the true reason nothing happened.”
“The spirit of Spirit Mountain guards the Spirit Mountain Eye… No need for overthinking. These coffins were meant to suppress that creature. Scattering the ashes was just another step—the area below is where its former body resides.”
The Spirit Mountain Eye might very well be in the air.
And the leap downward represented the moment where life and death intersected.
Jumping into the black pool would drown you; jumping off the cliff would shatter you. The Door of Life and Death had always been a path through death to find life.
Lin Jing hesitated, wondering when to make the leap, when he noticed smoke—then fire. Flames roared up from the base of the mountain, the pale red mist acting as the perfect accelerant. The inferno spread rapidly, devouring the forest and crawling up the slopes, reaching the cliffs.
Lin Jing stared in stunned silence at the blazing inferno.
The flames were blinding, awakening the corpses buried below. Slowly, they crawled out of their coffins, their bodies ignited by the flames. This time, the fire gave them no chance to retreat. Screams and howls filled the air, mingling with the sound of collapsing trees, creating a chaotic symphony.
The entire mountain was engulfed in hellfire.
Lin Jing was at a loss.
“Jump, darling.”
A calm male voice sounded behind him.
Lin Jing froze. “…”
Turning around, he saw Xu Wanzhi standing there, tall and poised, his aura confident. The faint red mark from the prayer bead string lingered on his wrist, and the beads themselves were nowhere to be seen.
It was impossible for someone to reach the mountaintop so quickly from the cave.
Lin Jing’s gaze locked onto him. The blazing inferno behind Xu Wanzhi painted an otherworldly backdrop, and a realization began to crystallize in Lin Jing’s mind. Gritting his teeth, he asked hoarsely, “Was this your doing?”
Xu Wanzhi didn’t deny it, smiling faintly. “A return of favors.”
“Beacon fires toying with the lords.” Or maybe not lords—maybe pigs.
He thought for a moment, recalling the story he had copied down at the police station that night, and said in a calm tone, “All for a single smile from you.”
Lin Jing: “…”
![The No. 1 Hunfen King in the Entire Server [Interstellar]](https://i1.wp.com/lazygirltranslations.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/unnamed-5.jpg?resize=151,215 "The No. 1 Hunfen King in the Entire Server [Interstellar]")
