Chapter 47: Where Is the Way Out?

Chapter 47: Where Is the Way Out?

“Everyone, take a look. If there’s anything left that can still burn, gather it together for safekeeping,” Old Yao said, extinguishing his own torch and adding another word.

There was a fair amount of food collected, mostly flatbread and pickled vegetables, along with some cured meat, all of which could be preserved for a long time. Originally meant for twelve people, now only five remained alive.

Zhang Sanlu wasn’t too worried about food, but he was deeply concerned about the lack of water. Humans can survive much longer without food than without water. Fortunately, they later found several water gourds filled with potable water, enough to last for some time.

Prompted by Zhang Sanlu, soon only two dim beams of light remained in the entire cave. Compared to these two dull glows, the green phosphorescence emanating from the bones scattered on the ground was even more striking. Yet, thinking of what those phosphorescent lights signified, a chill crept into everyone’s heart.

“We need to rest and try again, but this time, we’ll change our approach,” Zhang Sanlu said to Old Yao, glancing toward the passage. Here, only Old Yao, with his wealth of experience, was fit to discuss plans. Guo Dashu, with a broken arm, was still trapped in the grief of losing his brother. Guo Qi remained dazed, still struggling with the vision of Guo Xiaoshu he saw earlier. Zheng Ji was obedient but lacked ideas.

“Have you thought of something, Master?” Old Yao asked Zhang Sanlu.

Zhang Sanlu shook his head, then remembered that in this darkness, Old Yao couldn’t see his gesture, so he spoke, “No, it’s just a feeling. The problem may lie within the passage; there’s likely something odd about it.”

Old Yao nodded in agreement.

Everyone, their belongings packed, fixed their eyes on the passage. Zhang Sanlu believed that each person wanted to try again. If they were elsewhere, they would attempt countless times before abandoning hope altogether.

But here, in the dark, the passage inspired such fear that no one could even muster the courage to try. They preferred to remain in the cave littered with corpses—not only because of Guo Qi’s earlier encounter, but at least here, it was more spacious, and if anything went wrong, there was room to run.

Zhang Sanlu pondered for a moment and said, “Everyone is exhausted now, our minds unable to think clearly. Judging by the time spent, it must be deep night outside. I suggest we rest for several hours to restore our strength and meanwhile, each of us should think about any possible way out.”

Everyone agreed to this proposal, for both physical and mental fatigue had everyone nearly unable to stand.

Since they needed to rest, only a single torch remained lit, and they began to arrange night watches. Zhang Sanlu took the first watch, Old Yao the second, Zheng Ji—whose injuries were lightest—was third, Guo Qi was fourth, and Guo Dashu, the most gravely wounded, was last.

Because some couldn’t read, Zhang Sanlu couldn’t teach everyone Arabic numerals in a short time, so they agreed that the watcher would count from one to one hundred for each cycle, fifty cycles would be five thousand, after which the next person would take over.

Unexpectedly, everyone looked strangely at Zhang Sanlu. Zheng Ji spoke up, “Master, perhaps you don’t know—even those who aren’t literate can count from one to a thousand without trouble. Why not just count to a thousand five times?”

Zhang Sanlu hadn’t realized they could count that high already, feeling somewhat embarrassed at his oversight.

During his watch, Zhang Sanlu observed nothing unusual. Of course, perhaps something was happening silently in the vast darkness outside the torch’s reach—no one could know.

Silence reigned, with only faint sighs and sobs echoing. Everyone’s clothing was thin, and even before sleep, the cave was already cold; only the fear occupying their minds dulled their senses. Lying down, the icy ground made them shiver, and the chill of the mountain seeped upward, so cold it was hard to stay still, let alone sleep. So they spread unused bundles on the ground, huddling together for warmth.

Zhang Sanlu counted five thousand numbers, which took less than two hours, then called Old Yao to take over.

After Old Yao finished his watch, he woke Zheng Ji. When Old Yao lay down beside Zhang Sanlu again, Zhang Sanlu had not yet fallen asleep.

“Master, you’re still awake?” Old Yao suddenly whispered.

“Can’t sleep,” Zhang Sanlu murmured, his mind wandering.

“I discovered something today, but I can only tell you,” Old Yao turned his face; under the faint torchlight, his features were blurred.

“What is it?” Zhang Sanlu perked up.

Old Yao glanced into the darkness behind Zhang Sanlu, paused, then said, “Better wait until morning.”

Zhang Sanlu turned, seeing Zheng Ji watching him.

It was unbearably cold, and in such a strange place, how could anyone sleep peacefully? Zhang Sanlu’s mind replayed the events of the day: entering from the outer cave to the passage, then to the bone-filled chamber, the battle with the old woman, several trips through the passage, Guo Qi charging in with his dog, claiming to have seen the dead Guo Xiaoshu, yet the dog vanished. Each scene replayed like a film. Zhang Sanlu tried to untangle the clues, but they were so jumbled that his mind remained a mess.

He remembered feeling something was off even when entering the first cave. But where did that unease originate? Zhang Sanlu couldn’t pinpoint it, and turned restlessly.

He didn’t know when he finally fell asleep, nor how long he slept. When he opened his eyes, the darkness was still boundless, with only the flickering torchlight illuminating a small area before him.

As he became more alert, Zhang Sanlu pondered: this world was strange, but could a passage trap people? There were a few possibilities. One was like the strategy of the ancient martial sage Zhuge Liang, setting a stone array on a rocky slope—the Eight Diagrams Formation!

But here, there was no mist, no large stones, only fragments. Could an array be set without blocking sight? The thought seemed far-fetched. Upon reflection, it didn’t add up. If those stones formed an array, they hadn’t been trapped in it, but had passed through and entered the bone chamber. Was it a one-way passage? How did the old woman come and go? Did she set the array?

Another possibility was the presence of evil spirits. Was it the old woman? But she had been chopped into pieces, dead beyond doubt. Did she become a ghost? If so, why couldn’t the “One-Eyed Five,” also a malevolent spirit, escape? Was it because of Zhang Sanlu himself?

He recalled Guo Qi’s claim to have seen the dead Guo Xiaoshu in the cave. Who stripped his skin? If Guo Xiaoshu became a ghost, why not let them leave? The Thousand-Armed Bodhisattva statue was even more bizarre and terrifying.

While thinking, Old Yao beside him suddenly stirred and sat up. Zhang Sanlu opened his eyes, barely making out a dark silhouette. The torchlight was growing weaker; without more oil, it would soon be extinguished.

Old Yao walked past Zhang Sanlu, saying nothing and not stopping, but strode straight ahead—toward the passage!