What was Nangong Ying intending to do? Big Mao had likely figured it out almost completely. It darted through the jungle, leaping over one trunk after another, flying past swaths of thicket. The instant Yingzi plunged into the sea of the undead, Big Mao followed, landing with a distinct plop into the lake right behind her.

Plunging downward, Yingzi held her breath and slowly opened her eyes. All around her was a murky darkness of waterweeds, gathering slowly as if they were clutching hands. Looking up, the pale pink sky was being increasingly obscured and hidden by the black tangle of vegetation.

Blast it! What was this stuff? How had she not noticed it the last time she was underwater? Yingzi thought, knitting her brows. She kicked, trying to swim upward, only to find both legs already ensnared by the black weeds, which were slowly dragging her down toward the silt. The muck seemed to operate like a vacuum cleaner, sucking the weeds—and whatever they gripped—deep inside. Yingzi reached out, trying to find something solid to anchor herself to, but realized everything around her was sinking into the sediment along with the weeds. In another two or three minutes, she would be completely swallowed by the mire. What lay beneath the silt, Yingzi didn't know, and at that moment, she didn't care to find out.

But no matter how desperately she struggled, the weeds wrapped around her feet only tightened, and the half-heel already submerged in the silt burned as if touched by fire.

The silt was burning! Yingzi snapped to awareness. Glancing down, she saw the sediment bubbling sluggishly, much like volcanic lava, though its color was a mix of black and red, and the temperature was just slightly less intense. If that were truly lava below, she wouldn't need to get close; even a tiny splatter of spray would cause her unbearable agony.

What to do? Yingzi frantically reached out to the surrounding weeds that towered above her. Every time she managed to grasp one or two thick leaves, the leaf would suddenly dip downwards, as if playing hide-and-seek, instantly becoming much shorter than her reach. Yingzi had no choice but to release her grip, paddling desperately upward while continuing to snatch at the elusive weeds, praying for a miracle, hoping to snag something that wouldn't sink.

After flailing for what felt like an age, just as half her foot disappeared into the muck and a sharp, bone-piercing pain rushed through her body, a furry paw suddenly clamped around her wrist and yanked upward with force, hoisting her—along with a clump of the weeds—about three feet above the silt line.

She watched as the weed was torn out by the roots. Its milky-white tendrils made one last, spasmodic quiver, and the stems and leaves, which had been robustly vibrant a second ago, instantly withered, dangling around Yingzi’s ankles like limp noodles, entirely devoid of their tenacious grip.

Following the line of the furry paw upward, Yingzi saw with astonishment that Big Mao had looped a rope around her waist, suspending her above the weed-choked lake floor. One paw held the rope, continuously shortening the slack, while the other tightly gripped her wrist, slowly bringing her and the salvaged weed cluster up toward the water's surface, away from the dense growth. Yingzi tucked her legs up, tore off the rotten noodle-like weeds, then grabbed the rope looped around Big Mao’s waist, and together they exerted force, ascending toward the surface.

Half a minute later, Yingzi and Big Mao broke the surface, one after the other. Big Mao drew a deep breath, untied the rope from its waist, and swam toward the center of the lake on its own accord. Before Yingzi could get a clear look at what the other end of the rope was tethered to, the tip of the rope dipped into the water and vanished without a trace. When Yingzi dove down to search, she could see nothing but Big Mao’s paddling limbs and tail. The black weeds were slowly sinking and thinning as they descended toward the lakebed. Once they had completely disappeared into the silt, the dark mud began to contract inward, from the edges toward the center, until it too was gone without a trace, leaving behind only a few large stones lying peacefully on the lake floor, just as they had always been.