Better a sharp pain now than a prolonged agony; strike while the iron is hot. Old He and I returned to our original stance, gritting our teeth, and mustered all our strength to pull the stone backward in one go.

However, as the speed increased, not only did Xiao Shu not move away from the spear, but he was dragged along the ground for a short distance. The degree of pain can be imagined.

Yet, he didn't utter a single cry, only reaching out to grip a small tree nearby, steadying himself to cooperate with our efforts.

One, two, three—Old He and I exerted all our might, seizing the stone and pulling desperately backward. Another segment emerged.

One, two, three—we strained again. Soon, both the stone and the spear were completely free from Xiao Shu's body. His tightly clenched jaw finally opened with a heart-wrenching scream.

The instant the spear left Xiao Shu's flesh, a dull thunder boomed overhead, and large drops of rain began to hammer down. Quickly, a torrential downpour arrived right on schedule. The rainwater, mixed with black earth, rushed down the hillside, pouring into the surging Sea of Spirits. The blood-red color of the Sea of Spirits seemed to have been washed clean; it faded from thick to thin, from deep to shallow, gradually losing its scarlet hue.

"The Sea of Spirits is vanishing!" I shouted.

Old He hastily picked up the blood-soaked rag ball, wiped the rain from his face with force, and rushed to Xiao Shu’s side. With his hands twisted in reverse, he squeezed the last vestiges of blood from the rag directly onto Xiao Shu's backside. Before long, the wound healed in the rain.

Xiao Shu, lying on the ground, moved his legs, seemingly without any major issue. He then tried kneeling and sitting up, also without trouble. Next, he straightened his spine and stood up beneath the pouring rain.

Seeing him completely unharmed, I felt immense relief. A great stone in my heart finally settled.

At that moment, the rain gradually stopped.

"I must have walked through the gates of hell and back this time, right?" Xiao Shu hopped left and right, testing his newly recovered body.

"It seems we’ve returned to our original timeline," Old He remarked, pointing toward the horizon.

Xiao Shu and I turned our heads and followed the direction of Old He's finger. After the heavy rain, the sky was a brilliant blue, and the land looked as if it had been thoroughly cleansed, casting off the withered, dead exterior from moments before and donning a vibrant, thriving robe once more.

Looking around us, the leaves were green, the small grasses stood tall, and the entire mountain had regained its vitality, reverting to the way it looked when we arrived. This made me almost doubt whether the place we had just left was the legendary hell.

"Let's head down the mountain," Old He walked over to Hua Jinlan's corpse, hitched up his trousers, and gestured for Xiao Shu and me to come help carry the body.

Just as we were about to lift the corpse, we suddenly heard someone call out from below the mountain: "Stop lifting! We’re here!"

Looking toward the sound, three figures were ascending from the mountain base. I recognized two of them. The woman was Hua Gu, and one man staggered up, leaning on a cane—it was the Village Chief who had guided everyone up here that night to catch Scarface. The third was wearing a monk's robe and holding prayer beads; he must be the High Monk.

Moments later, the three reached the mountainside and stood before us. The six of us gathered around Hua Jinlan’s body. The Village Chief asked with curiosity, "After that night, I led people up here to clean up several times and never found the body. How did you find her?"

So, I recounted the experience of the temporal shift to him.

Hearing about a sea that could bring the dead back to life, he seemed slightly skeptical. He took my hand and carefully examined the scars on it. As he looked, he muttered something with a clicking sound. After a while, he pulled Xiao Shu over and lifted his collar to examine the scars on his neck. After that, he tried to pull down Xiao Shu’s pants to check the scars on his backside, but Xiao Shu politely declined.

Meanwhile, the High Monk stood silently beside us, his gaze fixed upon Hua Jinlan’s corpse.