As I watched Tang Minghao's strange expression, an indescribable tension crept into my heart. Could the ghost within him have seized control of Tang Haoming's body again? The thought made me instinctively clench the dagger hidden in my palm.

After a long pause, Tang Haoming tapped his head. "I can't recall," he said, his eyes wide with confusion as he looked at us. "Which places did we pass through?" He shook his head again quickly. "Just follow me. I'll take you back."

Old Li remained silent, his gaze drifting to me, Yanzi, and Li Zeng, seeking confirmation.

None of us knew what lay ahead. We couldn't gauge Tang Haoming's current state, and Yanzi couldn't tell if the person leading us was truly him or the ghost controlling his frame.

"Let's hurry up and go," Tang Haoming said, walking ahead.

We had no alternative. Even if we worried about the spirit inhabiting Tang Haoming, we were trapped; there was no way out but to place our desperate faith in this gamble.

We kept a cautious distance from Tang Haoming, fearing some sudden, terrifying move on his part, following him step by tense step. The slightest crunch of our boots on the uneven stones echoed sharply in the heavy quiet.

Tang Haoming set a wide pace, walking a few steps only to stop and brood for a moment. Yet, there were no diverging paths here. His posture, the way he occasionally scratched his arm or ran a hand through his hair, showed he was deep in thought. The patch of blood on his scalp seemed unnaturally vivid under the strange light.

I followed carefully, edging closer to Yanzi as I moved, opening my mouth as if to question him. Tang Haoming's behavior was far too erratic; we couldn't even be certain the ghost had actually left, or if the figure in front was truly Tang Haoming.

Yanzi immediately understood my impulse. She gently shook her head, then pointed a finger toward Tang Haoming's back, signaling me to stay quiet. Our role now was simply to follow.

It seemed Yanzi shared my apprehension, but in this moment, judging whether Tang Haoming was genuinely back to normal was impossible.

Crack. A small pebble struck another rock, emitting a faint, sharp sound.

Tang Haoming froze, his neck suddenly retracted, his body beginning to shake violently as if seized by a fit, appearing to be in extreme distress.

We all halted, our instinct to rush forward and support him warring with immediate hesitation. Tang Haoming then spun around. Just like last time, his complexion was deathly pale, huge beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks, and his eyes, growing clouded, fixed straight on us. Immediately after, Tang Haoming let out a savage yell, "Red water! Go find me the red water! You servants, hurry up and fetch it for me!"

My grip tightened on the dagger, and I slowly began to approach him. I didn't want to kill him, but the current situation was highly disadvantageous. This malevolent ghost controlled Tang Haoming’s body; we had to subdue it, for our own survival and for the hope of rescuing Tang Haoming.

Old Li and Li Zeng shared my resolve; they were prepared to act, while the more timid Yanzi retreated behind us.

None of us dared to make the first move, maintaining a wary defense against the ghost-possessed Tang Haoming.

Tang Haoming suddenly roared, "Doctor Ciren, which skin bag will you choose for your temporary vessel first?" His eyes swept over us, scrutinizing us as if he were selecting merchandise at a marketplace. He pointed at Li Zeng. "How about this one? I think it's quite suitable. Aren't you thrilled to have so many vessels to choose from? Hahaha..." His laughter was unrestrained and cruel.

We nervously closed the circle, intending to subdue him the moment he let his guard down. It was Tang Haoming's body, after all. The demon might not care, but Tang Haoming was our comrade. Watching him die was not something we wished to see.

Just as we were about to move, Tang Haoming convulsed again, his face contorted in pain. He suddenly spat out a curse, "You damned bastard, get out of this body!"

We exchanged bewildered glances. The situation was far too bizarre, too complicated. From that single sentence, we could deduce that another spirit was fighting the malevolent entity for control of Tang Haoming’s form.

"You think you can manage that?" The evil spirit retained the upper hand, still firmly gripping Tang Haoming's body.

The sweat on Tang Haoming’s face became thicker, and his tremors intensified. I couldn't help but sweat for him, forced to watch his agony without being able to intervene.

Time crawled by—we lost all track of how long it lasted—until Tang Haoming collapsed softly onto the ground, gasping huge breaths.

We dared not approach, uncertain which entity currently held sway over him.

When Tang Haoming slowly managed to stand, his body swayed involuntarily. "Let's go," he rasped. "We need to leave this place quickly."

"Brother Hao?" I asked tentatively.

"Technician Luo," Tang Haoming replied, calling me by name.

A wave of relief washed over me; the control had indeed returned to Tang Haoming.

Tang Haoming resumed leading the way, though we remained constantly vigilant. During the subsequent journey, Tang Haoming’s body was briefly seized by both the evil spirit and the other entity several times. However, each incident ended without serious harm; the malicious ghost merely offered threats without taking substantive action.

In the faint, ethereal light, we were stunned by the sight before us. Deep within this subterranean world, a peculiar village existed.

The source of the light was unclear, allowing us only to glimpse the vague outlines of the village—it wasn't utterly dark like night, but our vision was severely limited.

As far as the eye could see, structures built of stacked stones stretched out, illuminated by a mysterious luminescence that made them simultaneously distinct and indistinct.

What was this place? What were these constructions?

We stood frozen, unable to process what we were witnessing.

A mysterious world, a mysterious village—why was it built here? For what purpose?

Yanzi seemed visibly agitated. I glanced at her secretly; could this be the treasure she had mentioned?

The marvelous cluster of ancient architecture featured five tiers of steps. As we set foot on the first tier, we discovered several stones bearing unique symbols and patterns.

These symbols resembled the modern Arabic numerals "0" and "1." We couldn't determine if the figures indicated a left-to-right or up-and-down orientation. If the orientation was vertical, what did these strange signs signify? If vertical, they might symbolize the sun, suggesting this site could be an altar for nature worship.

"Face! The face!" Yanzi suddenly cried out, pointing toward a distant stone wall.

Carved into the rock face was an enormous human visage, hanging there as if someone were actively watching us.

"I—I—" Yanzi was clearly overwhelmed, her speech fragmented. "It—that face—it—it's moving."

I approached. The colossal face, easily half my height, was carved entirely from a single slab of stone. Beside the carving, seven perfectly spaced indentations were arranged in a regular pattern.

"Did you perhaps imagine it?" Old Lu questioned skeptically. He was generally dismissive of such things, but everything happening now defied rational explanation.

The 'eyes,' 'nose,' and 'mouth' of this 'face' were relatively clear: the 'eyes' were narrow slits, the 'nose' slightly recessed, the 'mouth' elongated and flat, and the 'teeth' appeared serrated. It belonged to a profoundly ancient era, yet for some inexplicable reason, the face stirred a strange sense of familiarity, as if I had seen it before.

"This must be an ancient sacrificial site," I hypothesized, observing the carving.

"I really saw the face move," Yanzi insisted.

"Perhaps the shock of the last few days has caused you to hallucinate," I said, not entirely disbelieving her, but choosing this interpretation to steady myself.

Yanzi looked down. "Perhaps so."

We continued upward, a peculiar sensation growing within us—a creeping dread, a worry about the unknown. I glanced back at the carving on the stone wall; that familiar feeling lingered, taunting my memory. I began cycling through my knowledge of ancient architecture, artifacts, and records of rituals, trying to pinpoint the source.

The stone steps were hard and cold, flickering eerily in the dim light. The distinctive patterns appeared with increasing frequency: every so often, seven regularly spaced holes would appear. On one massive stone block, five holes formed an arc, while two others sat nearby. On the inner wall’s stone slabs, each circular hole, about three to four centimeters in diameter, was spaced evenly. The arrangement was so precise and orderly that if two adjacent stones formed a unit, we could surmise, based on sacrificial practices, that they might represent a celestial pattern, perhaps the Big Dipper.

The thought of the Big Dipper made me instinctively look upward. Though the ceiling remained dark, something seemed to shift up there.

The Big Dipper has been revered since antiquity; ancient Eastern lore is rich with tales of the Plough and its fixed, eternal Pole Star.

Where on earth were we? My unease intensified. I looked toward Tang Haoming, who was still walking ahead.

Why did he bring us here? How did he know this place existed? Why was it built? My mind was a flurry of unanswered questions, leaving me adrift and bewildered. My brain felt close to exploding with all these "whys."

I violently shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts, but the confusion only deepened. The sense of dread pressed closer, a suffocating weight on my heart.

"Why did you bring us here?" I finally couldn't hold back the burning question.

"Leave this place," Tang Haoming replied without turning back.

"Why? How do you know about this place?" I pressed relentlessly.

"Stop asking," Tang Haoming suddenly snapped, whipping around to glare at me. "My head hurts. Don't ask me anymore. Just follow me."

His clipped answers only deepened my anxiety. When I finally focused on Tang Haoming’s face, my fear spiked, because behind him, etched high on the stone wall, I saw another visage—a huge face that seemed to be directing a grotesque smile right at me.

Yes. Now I finally understood why the face on the wall had felt so familiar moments before.