At present, the master wasn’t going mad, and the disciple wasn’t drowning either. Shi Jingzhi suppressed his anger, refraining from even grabbing Yin Ci’s hand as they walked into the pitch-black forbidden area.
Yin Ci remained vigilant, sensing the trembling in Shi Jingzhi’s footsteps, but he felt that the level of caution was somewhat exaggerated.
Now, he didn’t care about inquiring into the origins of his cheap master; he was more interested in knowing what kind of being his cheap master was.
The two of them remained in this tense atmosphere, each standing a step apart, neither uttering a word.
The forbidden area at night had no trace of light and was even darker than the Ghost Tomb. The stone steps under their feet were covered in moss and were incredibly slippery. Yin Ci had obtained a lantern from the villagers and walked cautiously. It was difficult to imagine how a child could walk with closed eyes in such a place.
When performing a play, one must act the part convincingly. Yin Ci would take a step and then pause, shining the light on each stone chamber on the cave wall.
The small chambers were almost empty, with at most some remnants of clothing or gold and silver jewelry. Not to mention corpses, they couldn’t even find a single bone.
Last time, there were too many people during the funeral, and they couldn’t observe carefully. But now, upon closer inspection, even the Paper Figurine Street was infested with bugs and rodents, yet the forbidden area was devoid of even half of a creature.
It was unclear whether it had a connection to the outside world or if spells didn’t work here, but the entire deep pit was cold and silent, like newly formed thin ice on the water’s surface, with the air frozen solid.
There was no trace of light anywhere.
The two of them wandered around, walking until they reached the end of the stone steps. The end of the steps was particularly cold, with a thin layer of ice forming on the surface of the stone, making it even more difficult to walk.
Yin Ci specifically glanced at Auntie Liu’s stone chamber, and indeed, it was empty. Only a few pieces of clothing were haphazardly mixed together, exuding a hint of sorrowful coldness.
“Neither Yin Deng nor Bai Wei are up here.” Shi Jingzhi cleared his throat. “The situation downstairs is strange. You should follow me back… Huh?!”
Suddenly, the last few stone slabs sank downward, disappearing into thin air. A cold sensation came from behind the two, and their feet were suspended in mid-air as they fell straight down.
Yin Ci leaned closer to the rock wall, grabbing Shi Jingzhi’s wrist with one hand and reaching for the edge of a stone chamber with the other.
He didn’t care about himself, but if Shi Jingzhi were to fall, he would become a lump of fox meat. Yin Ci might be seeking death, but he hadn’t planned on dragging another companion along on the journey to the underworld.
Besides, he might not necessarily die.
Yin Ci firmly held onto the stone platform, gradually regaining his strength, when he suddenly felt an unfamiliar sensation on the back of his hand.
Something was caressing his hand.
Yin Ci raised his head abruptly, squinting his eyes. The lantern had fallen not far above, and there was still a flicker of fire, allowing him to vaguely make out the situation—
A hand reached out from within the stone chamber.
…They had just checked a moment ago, and all the stone chambers were empty.
But that hand did exist. It was extremely withered, resembling a dried corpse, and its shape was quite peculiar, with fingers longer than those of an ordinary person.
The touch of the hand was icy cold and dry, without a hint of warmth.
The hand stretched out from the depths of the stone chamber, resembling the delicate legs of a spider. It bent at an angle that didn’t conform to human structure, gently prying open Yin Ci’s fingers.
Yin Ci remained silent as he slid down quietly. He feared that if Shi Jingzhi saw this thing, he would be frightened out of his wits, and saving him would be even more troublesome.
Shi Jingzhi simply assumed that Yin Ci couldn’t bear his weight. Taking advantage of the situation, he adjusted his posture and thrust the flag forward. The clear silver bamboo pole lit by the yang fire was inserted into the stone wall like a block of tofu.
The two of them descended for a while, awkwardly suspended in mid-air. They had an intimate encounter with the white-robed creature hanging on the wall. As they drew closer, the stench of blood and flesh became even more pronounced. The white-robed creature remained motionless, yet possessed a warmth reminiscent of a living person, making them extremely uncomfortable.
Shi Jingzhi’s expression fluctuated, seemingly wanting to let go and be done with it.
On the other hand, Yin Ci firmly held onto the chain, suspending himself together with the white-robed creature.
“Shizun, what should we do?”
With the situation urgent, Shi Jingzhi no longer held a grudge against his disciple. After steadying his emotions for a moment, his whole body burst into yang fire, illuminating the area above them.
His original intention seemed to be to illuminate the surroundings, figure out how far they had slipped, and calculate the distance to climb back. However, as soon as he shed light on the situation, Shi Jingzhi saw it too clearly.
Numerous long and slender hands extended from various stone chambers, forming a web above them, clearly indicating that they were not meant to ascend.
Now things were even worse. Shi Jingzhi, who was unprepared, trembled all over. He slid down a section of the bamboo pole, almost falling straight down. Yin Ci grabbed him and said with great seriousness, “Since we can’t go up for the time being, we might as well go down and take a look.”
Shi Jingzhi gulped and swallowed his saliva. “A’Ci, are you serious?”
The forbidden area was within reach, and Yin Ci couldn’t be bothered to act or beat around the bush. He got straight to the point. “The Goddess has become wary of both of us. Even if we manage to escape now, it will be difficult to obtain any other information. Shizun, since we’ve come…”
Shi Jingzhi couldn’t decide whether the terrifying aspect was the hand web above or his disciple saying “since we’ve come” in the face of this situation.
However, what Yin Ci said was indeed reasonable. If they didn’t enter the tiger’s den, how could they catch the tiger’s cub? Shi Jingzhi didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in Yuanxian Village. He looked up at the hand web and took a deep breath. “Lend me the Hanging Shadow Sword.”
The two of them awkwardly switched positions in midair. Shi Jingzhi held the “Medicine Cures Illness” flag in one hand and the Hanging Shadow Sword in the other, alternating between inserting them into the rock wall, steadily descending. Yin Ci embraced his master’s neck, keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings.
The further down they went, the more white-robed creatures there were. They hung silently at the ends of iron chains, varying in size from dozens to hundreds. As they delved deeper, the stench of rotting flesh grew stronger, making them nauseous.
It was unknown whether Fox Shi’s nose could withstand it.
After climbing down for an unknown length of time, the two of them finally caught sight of a faint glimmer.
They had reached the bottom of this bottomless forbidden area. From a distance, they could see countless peculiar-shaped objects at the bottom of the pit, resembling enormous withered lotus leaves. A jade-green liquid flowed out from an unknown source, winding its way down and forming a thin layer of water at the bottom of the forbidden area, reflecting a soft shimmering blue light.
The bottom of the water was covered in dark-colored silt, seemingly mixed with something, but from their distance, the two couldn’t make out the details.
In the center of the shallow pond, surrounded by these numerous “lotus leaves” stood a deformed “lotus pod” made of stone.
Its convex and concave shape was opposite to that of an ordinary lotus pod. It resembled an empty bowl, filled with a luminous green liquid. Several cylindrical stone platforms stood within the bowl with their tops protruding above the liquid surface, varying in size. From top to bottom, they vaguely resembled dark “lotus seeds”.
Occasionally, liquid overflowed from the edge of the stone lotus seed. It flowed intermittently, cascading into the water below, creating a gurgling sound like a waterfall.
This was the only lively scene in the pit. Everything else was desolate and stagnant, enveloped in a peculiar sense of tranquility.
Having witnessed the man-eating lake in the Ghost Tomb’s second level, Shi Jingzhi didn’t want to touch any unknown liquid. Leaning on the flagpole for leverage, he pushed himself up the wall, rushing towards the outermost stone platform of the “lotus pod”. Compared to their first encounter, Shi Jingzhi’s movements were more coordinated this time. He even found the time to change his posture, holding Yin Ci horizontally in his arms.
However, his landing wasn’t ideal.
It took more than a day to freeze three feet of ice*. Despite diligently practicing his external martial arts for a few days, Shi Jingzhi still lacked proficiency. If it weren’t for his disciple acting as a cushion below, Shi Jingzhi would have nearly stopped abruptly with his face.
*(冰冻三尺非一日之寒) Proverb that emphasizes the idea that significant achievements or profound change require time, effort, and perseverance (AKA Rome was not built in a day).
The two of them barely stopped at the edge of the stone platform, with less than a yard of space. They narrowly avoided rolling down.
Yin Ci, cushioned by his master’s flesh, couldn’t move and was firmly squashed. Rarely, golden stars flashed before his eyes, and for a moment, he didn’t want to say anything.
Shi Jingzhi, who almost flattened his disciple like a dumpling wrapper, felt embarrassed as he climbed up. “A’Ci, just now… urgh!”
He didn’t finish his sentence as his complexion changed, and he turned his head to vomit.
Yin Ci quickly got up and saw the reason behind Shi Jingzhi’s vomiting—
There were people.
Underneath the translucent liquid resembling jade, numerous people lay. Dozens of individuals were in the lotus stone bowls, while there were hundreds more in the shallow ponds surrounding them.
Well, perhaps “lay” wasn’t quite accurate. Those people no longer resembled humans. They were naked, as if molded from the softest colored wax and slowly melted, their bodies turning into a viscous paste. Their flesh sank underwater, with dark red muscles protruding outward, mingling with their internal organs, forming a strange and grotesque red mud.
Yet they were still alive.
Many eyeballs hadn’t completely melted and were slowly rotating within the gaps between bones. Twisted hearts floated above their flesh, beating laboriously. Blood flowed extremely slowly through the deformed skin.
Yin Ci didn’t know if these people still had any consciousness, and he hoped they didn’t.
This wasn’t the kind of death he sought.
Shi Jingzhi vomited for a long time before finally recovering his composure. Under the pale light, his complexion wasn’t much different from that of a dead person.
“I smell Auntie Liu.” Shi Jingzhi trembled. “I’ve given her medicine before, so I remember its scent.”
At this moment, Yin Ci didn’t have the mindset to tease him. Shi Jingzhi was only twenty-seven years old, not some mentally twisted lunatic. Seeing such a scene suddenly was naturally overwhelming.
Even someone as knowledgeable as Yin Ci was momentarily horrified.
The Ghost Tomb was strange, but all those peculiarities were still within the realm of “humanly desires”. However, what lay before their eyes was different. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t made by human hands.
Yin Ci silently approached and let Shi Jingzhi bury his face in his shoulder. It seemed as if Shi Jingzhi had found a lifeline as he held onto his disciple tightly, taking deep breaths for quite a while before barely calming down.
Knowing the true nature of the red mud in the shallow pond made the stench in the air particularly nauseating.
“Shh.” Yin Ci patted his back. “I have a strong destiny, capable of overcoming evil spirits. Remember, Shizun?”
“I remember.” Shi Jingzhi wiped the corner of his mouth and weakly smiled. “Now I understand what happened to the acacia bean. Bai Wei… he might be here.”
Neither alive nor dead, the acacia bean couldn’t turn to ashes and couldn’t maintain its original form.
As if hearing their conversation, a small sob suddenly emanated from the chaotic shadows. Shi Jingzhi stiffened, unsure, and raised his voice slightly, “Yin Deng?”
The sob immediately turned into a mournful wail, and now both of them heard it clearly. It was indeed the voice of a young girl. The voice came from the central stone platform, not too far from where they stood.
The master and disciple were standing on a small stone platform at the edge. Shi Jingzhi staggered to his feet and began moving toward the center of the stone lotus.
The fluorescence was weak, and at such a short distance, shadows could easily engulf the appearance of things. From this perspective, there were figures standing on the other stone platforms. Those things remained motionless, standing at about nine feet tall, certainly not the size of a little girl.
If they wanted to reach the central stone platform, the two of them couldn’t avoid them.
The master and disciple seemed to reach a silent agreement and refrained from acting rashly. Shi Jingzhi didn’t dare ignite his yang fire, afraid of alarming them. Both of them held their breath and carefully avoided each eerie silhouette, relying solely on the faint fluorescence as they stealthily made their way towards the center of the stone platform.
Upon reaching the central stone platform and confirming the silence around them, Shi Jingzhi finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Located in the center of the pit, where the fluorescence was slightly brighter, they finally got a clear view of the central stone platform.
Standing on the platform was an unfinished towering statue of a deity, and Yin Deng was sobbing at its feet. She curled up into a dark red bundle, motionless, like a fallen fruit for offerings.
Not to mention the young Yin Deng, even Shi Jingzhi hesitated to move after getting a clear look at the deity.
The deity was approximately thirteen feet tall—quite massive—and of a common size seen during the Yun Dynasty. They even recognized the appearance of the statue, which was also very common—it depicted the national deity of Great Yun’s state religion, the Imperial Celestial.
However, it wasn’t an ordinary clay statue.
Its framework wasn’t made of iron or wood but of genuine human bones.
Countless human bones were used in its construction, forming a delicate and symmetrical structure. Rows of arm bones, bundles of leg bones, neatly assembled pelvic bones, and interwoven rib bones. Different-sized skulls were strung together, stacked in an orderly manner. Even human teeth became part of the sculpting props, densely embedded together.
The bone surface was covered in flesh membranes, with blood vessels and tendons inseparable, tightly binding the skeletal structure of the deity. Viscous flesh paste was layered on top, compressed, and molded into the divine body and garments. To ensure the flesh remained intact, tiny light green fibers were mixed into the flesh paste, identical to those emanating from Yin Deng’s eyes.
Within the intricately constructed skeleton, a large mass of hearts was intertwined, beating lightly and slowly. Some deformed eyes could be seen within the flesh paste, their gazes scattered as if lost in a dream.
…A living flesh idol.
Currently, only half of its flesh body had been sculpted, with one side vivid and the other skeletal. The finer details weren’t deeply carved, indicating that it was clearly an unfinished work. Its head had not been sculpted with distinct features; only a rough structure was outlined, with the flesh paste loosely stretched over it, and delicate blood vessels clearly visible.
The deity slightly bowed its head with its movements exuding a bone-chilling sense of compassion, similar to the Goddess.
Yin Deng lay at the foot of this colossal entity with her left arm deformed from some impact, with traces of the flesh paste’s texture showing through.
Shi Jingzhi took two steps forward, attempting to hold her. Suddenly, a green light flashed, and he unknowingly activated some kind of spell, instantly flooding the entire underground space with light. Bright beams came from all directions, dazzling their eyes.
All shadows disappeared into nothingness, and the complete view of the underground space appeared before them.
Yin Ci didn’t have a chance to observe the details around them. Previously, the darkness was dense, and they could only see where the fluorescence illuminated. Now that everything had taken form, it added the final straw to everyone’s nerves, pushing them to the brink of collapse.
After the flesh idol, a truly colossal idol was revealed.
The statue was embedded in the cave wall, with only its massive head and part of the upper body exposed. If it weren’t for the fact that half of the head was embedded in the wall, this statue could completely block the pit.
It was undoubtedly not formed by human hands—this statue was composed of countless intertwined tree roots, showing no trace of deliberate intervention.
The deity slightly leaned forward, as if observing the people, and the bright light illuminated its facial features formed by the intertwined roots.
The Imperial Celestial had a face that appeared somewhat androgynous, with a beautiful and plump appearance. However, unlike the statues worshiped in temples, there was no trace of compassion between its eyebrows; only boundless indifference. The slender arms hung at the edge of the statue, twisted and contorted like dying ghost spiders.
Shi Jingzhi supported himself with the flagpole as he stared in disbelief. His whole body seemed about to collapse, but he managed to stand firm, avoiding sitting on the ground.
His face turned pale, and he murmured, “We came too early. We should have let Yan Qing divinate first. At the very least, we should have brought that goose along.”
Yin Ci remained silent.
He stood directly in front of the flesh deity. From this angle, the two statues complemented each other, creating an extremely eerie beauty.
In front, scattered bones and flesh; behind, countless plants and trees. The scene was no different from the myriad of creatures in the world.
For some unknown reason, a subtle sense of familiarity arose in Yin Ci’s heart. This place was clearly not his place of burial, yet it felt like some kind of destiny.
How absurd.
The author has something to say:
Shi Jingzhi: If I am guilty, the law should punish me instead of taking me on a tour of the underworld attractions _(;з」∠)_
Yin Ci: This master worship is too lively, but it’s lively in the wrong direction _(;з」∠)_