To anyone witnessing such a situation, it would be utterly baffling, leaving them scratching their heads in confusion. As the vision vanished, the three of us exchanged glances, unsure what expressions to wear.

For a long moment, nothing stirred within the cavern. Yet, no one dared to settle down and rest, uncertain when or where some bizarre apparition might manifest next. My heart hammered against my ribs; it felt as though a spring had been coiled inside my chest, threatening to burst forth with every beat.

“Perhaps…” Matyathis mused, looking thoughtfully at us, “Perhaps… it seems you two don’t know something, do you?”

I glanced at Old Li, then back at Matyathis, completely bewildered. “Know what?”

Matyathis hesitated, clearly weighing whether to speak. After a pause, he stammered, “It’s just… the magnetic field here is chaotic. Did you know that?”

“Chaotic magnetic field?” I repeated. “Are you saying this situation is similar to getting lost in a phantom fog—that the hallucinations in our minds are caused by magnetic field disturbances?”

Before I finished speaking, Old Li immediately seized the thread: “No wonder the compass directions are all reversed! Is that also due to this?”

Matyathis shook his head. “I don’t understand what you mean by phantom fog or compass; I don’t know what those things are.”

Old Li pulled a compass from his breast pocket and held it out. “Here… this thing.” Matyathis looked at the compass with confusion, still shaking his head. “You Chinese people are truly strange, carrying around a bronze plate.” I figured showing him more would be useless; to a foreigner like him, such an authentic Chinese artifact would remain incomprehensible.

“Forget it, Old Li, he wouldn’t understand,” I said, abruptly changing tack. “The compass issue can perhaps be explained by magnetic field disruption, but… what about what we just saw? How do you account for that?” Though I spoke to Old Li, my words were really aimed at Matyathis; his analysis, as a genuine geologist, held some weight.

Old Li shook his head, indicating his ignorance. I turned to Matyathis, who shrugged, throwing his hands up. “A chaotic magnetic field can affect one’s thoughts. Perhaps… our thoughts were all influenced, which is why we saw strange things. That’s all.”

I still couldn't fully agree with Matyathis's explanation. I had a persistent feeling that something crucial remained hidden, though I couldn't pinpoint what. With no immediate rebuttal for Matyathis, he seemed to have grasped the principle, his expression losing some of its earlier terror. He spoke casually, “I never thought I’d see my grandfather again. General Himmler personally handpicked him as a favorite officer. You can imagine how brave he must have been back then…” As he spoke, his eyes darted around, filled with reverence, clearly hoping to catch another glimpse of his ancestor.

I scoffed inwardly. It was only Hitler’s fevered imagination that would believe his ancestors had a branch settled in Tibet, or entertain the claims of that fanatical pagan, Himmler, that an Eye of the Earth actually existed. Only he, facing unfavorable domestic and international circumstances, would dispatch the nation's elite to Tibet.

Old Li remained unresponsive to Matyathis, lost in his own thoughts. Knowing him to be resourceful, I didn't interrupt, standing quietly beside him.

After a while, Old Li looked up. “We should leave. If we stay longer, and the magnetic field affects our brains too much, what if we return to a normal place as lunatics?”

At his words, I was startled; I realized he was right. I quickly urged Old Li to find the path to life.

“The gate of life is found; it’s right here, just further ahead,” Old Li said expressionlessly, but he stopped moving, standing rooted to the spot, staring blankly. If he wouldn't lead, I certainly wouldn't dare wander off. Frankly, I was terrified of some sudden, gruesome scene erupting from anywhere.

Matyathis looked at me hesitantly. “Luo Lian, I… I think I have a map. I… I want to look… can you shine the light for me?”

I had asked him about the map earlier, but we had been sidetracked. Realizing this now, I couldn't fault him. I shone the light for him as he fumbled inside his coat and pulled out a map made of waterproof cloth. The lines and markers on it were dense, crisscrossing everywhere.

Matyathis brought the map close to the light, analyzing it meticulously. I leaned in shamelessly to look as well. However, his map felt utterly unfamiliar, despite my numerous previous visits to the Guge ruins. Even though we had immediately plunged into these winding tunnels filled with countless traps since entering the desiccated corpse cave, and even though I possessed a terrible sense of direction, my intuition screamed that his map was wrong.

So I asked Matyathis, “Who drew this map?”

Matyathis didn't look up. “One of my grandfather's companions, a teammate.”

“Are you certain it’s completely accurate?”

“……” Matyathis hesitated again. He thought for a moment. “It was correct at first, but… given the current situation, it seems it’s not right anymore.”

“What do you mean, not right?” I asked, drawing out my words.

Matyathis sighed helplessly. “At the very least, this place we are in—whatever the devil it is—isn't marked on the map, nor are the traps on the tunnel we fell down marked.”

Hearing that, I thought, Didn't you say your grandfather and his team documented every single blade of grass? How could they miss a huge trap! But I held back the words; this wasn't the time for sarcasm or settling scores.

“Alright… in that case,” I said, “do you still think this map is useful?”

Matyathis flinched at my question, quickly shielding the map with both hands, watching me warily, as if expecting me to tear it up. After a moment, seeing I made no move, he carefully folded it and tucked it back into his pocket before saying, “It should still be useful. Why else would my grandfather’s companion risk death to bring it back to Germany from Tibet?”

I had no appetite for arguing such points. Ignoring him, I turned to Old Li. “Old Li, what’s your take?”

Old Li replied, “This place is strictly arranged according to the Bagua formation. There is only one Shengmen (Gate of Life). Going in any other direction is purely seeking death. So… we have no choice but to go forward.”

Since there was no other option, there was no point in hesitating. Let’s go. I didn't want to linger either; those scenes that could erupt at any moment genuinely terrified me, a deep, bone-shaking fear. Thus, I resolutely stepped forward and strode ahead. Old Li hesitated briefly, then followed. Matyathis paused for a moment before trailing after us.

Truthfully, I had no confidence moving forward, but what choice did we have? Wait here to die?

We had no idea if the space we occupied was round or flat. The light only illuminated a short distance ahead, the surroundings a dim, viscous fog. We could only estimate our progress by the time we walked.

After perhaps five or six minutes of walking, I suddenly felt that familiar moment of mental clarity—the sudden emptiness in my mind. My first reaction was, “Not good!” And before anything could appear ahead, I quickly retreated a few steps. Old Li looked at me strangely and asked what was wrong. I told him my feeling, and he dared not move forward either, stopping dead in place.

Indeed, just as I spoke, the area ahead turned strange again. The entire front dissolved as if becoming a giant screen, and there were the same ecstatic Tibetan people again, all stretching their necks, standing on tiptoes to see something ahead. Every single person wore the exact same expression: immense excitement and anticipation, tinged with slight tension. Not a single sound escaped them, not even a cough.

The scene froze for a moment. Then, a figure who appeared to hold high status made a gesture, signaling everyone to disperse. The crowd immediately spread out to the sides, creating a path down the middle. Following this, a man wearing a crown appeared, holding an object in each hand, raising them high. He swept his gaze over the surrounding people, then nodded with satisfaction, an unconcealed smugness and display of pride on his face. He then turned and walked into the deeper darkness ahead. The crowd continued to watch him, craning their necks expectantly.

I felt the crowned man looked intensely familiar; I thought I must have seen him on the murals in the desiccated corpse cave. Although the two weren't completely identical, the crown was almost indistinguishable from the one in the murals. Moreover, among the crowd were old women sipping yak butter tea, just like in the murals. Though the painting was a bit blurred, the clothing and jewelry were exactly the same. And the objects held in the hands of the crowned man felt incredibly familiar—it took me a moment to realize: weren't those the Golden Eyes and Silver Pearls?! Two of them!

I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me and rubbed them, trying to get a clearer look to confirm they were the Golden Eyes and Silver Pearls, but the infuriating king walked into the darkness and never reappeared. After a while, the person who had signaled earlier reappeared, beckoned everyone, and with a chorus of cheers, the crowd followed him in an orderly fashion into the depths of the gloom.

Then the vision gradually faded, much like a movie ending.

This time, I wasn't even afraid; my mind was filled only with curiosity. Had we somehow entered a world like The Truman Show, where everything we saw was deliberately staged?

This occurrence was truly similar to watching a film: a large black screen, followed by a series of images appearing one after another, then gradually fading out to signal the end of another segment.

“Old Li?” I wanted to ask him what was going on, but when I turned, I saw his eyebrows tightly furrowed; he was about to ask me something as well.

Before he could speak, Matyathis rushed over, exclaiming in shock, “The Golden Eyes and Silver Pearls, two of them!”

I started, quickly asking him, “Did you see clearly? Did that man have two Golden Eyes and Silver Pearls in his hands?”