"Very well," Ma Xiong said, "I'll wait then. I’ve endured this long; a little more time won't matter."

The white substance began to spread with startling uniformity, as if possessing a will of its own, maintaining a perfectly level surface as it advanced, much like a disciplined army. They found the phenomenon utterly uncanny.

Ma Xiong and Lu Zong stared blankly as the white mass slowly crept outward, its surface remaining impeccably flat, refusing to yield to any dip or rut in the ground. Only after completely covering the floor did it begin to rise slowly.

The three stared tensely at the milky-white **, as the bodies of the snakes gradually floated to the top, swaying precariously upon it. It seemed some rocks and debris were also ascending. Ma Xiong’s heart lifted; his own density was far less than that of stone, so if stone could float, surely he could.

Just as Ma Xiong felt relief, Lu Zong suddenly spoke up, "Wait, look! The snakes?"

Ma Xiong and Fatty quickly turned their attention to the serpents but noticed nothing unusual. "What is it? What did you see that's wrong?" Ma Xiong asked.

Lu Zong replied, "Haven't you noticed the snake corpses are dwindling? The ** surface is getting cleaner, as if all impurities are vanishing?"

Ma Xiong and Fatty looked, and indeed, where the corpses had initially formed a dense, layered mat—like fish packed tightly together—they were now separated, with visible gaps between them.

"Maybe they just sank," Ma Xiong tried to reassure them. "No need to worry."

Lu Zong disagreed. "Don't you feel the ** is corrosive? Those snakes must have been eaten away by it."

Ma Xiong started, glancing at the snakes. Signs of rot were visible, yet he couldn't bear to accept the truth. "It must be from the intense heat of the fire earlier, causing the decay," he argued.

Fatty, examining the snakes, also looked puzzled. "Why are they rotting? We can test it and find out!" He picked up an intact snake from the stone he stood on, holding it by the head, and dipped its tail into the fluid. The moment it made contact, a puff of white smoke erupted. He hastily pulled the snake up, finding the tail had corroded down to the bone. He gasped, then tossed the carcass onto the ground. He looked at Ma Xiong. "Brother, this is bad. You're wrong."

Ma Xiong stared at the dissolving snake, a wave of despair washing over him. He looked at the approaching white **—less than half a meter away and set to reach him in about half an hour—and felt a deep sense of dread. He would be dissolved alive.

Lu Zong, however, remained calm. He scrutinized the ** and then suggested, "We could build something to traverse it."

Fatty laughed dismissively. "Lu Zong, have you lost your mind? Where are we going to find a boat here? Even if we found one, it might not sail on this stuff—it's highly corrosive. I’ve never seen a single piece of wood float up; they’re probably all melted down below." As he finished speaking, he deliberately glanced upward at the ** surface. It was now bare—not even a stone that had carried a snake remained. His heart sank further. Ma Xiong’s face grew even paler; the situation looked grim, leaving him only to wait for the inevitable. But having faced life and death so often, he took it in stride, deciding to take things one step at a time, knowing that one always finds a way when the time comes.

Lu Zong clarified, "I mean we can fashion a raft from vines. I noticed these ** don't seem to corrode the vines."

Fatty questioned, "How do you know they don't corrode them?"

Lu Zong countered, "What do you think is surrounding us? It’s vines! If they could corrode vines, they would have dropped long ago."

Fatty nodded. "That makes sense." Then he shouted toward Ma Xiong, bolstering his spirits. "Ma Xiong, we have a chance! Wait for us!"

Ma Xiong replied carelessly, "Suit yourselves. I’m ready to meet God."

Fatty muttered under his breath, "Go meet the King of Hell yourself," and started working. He noticed the stone ceiling above was covered in climbing vines and prepared to pull some down. However, the vines were wrapped too tightly, and combined with his significant weight, he struggled for a long time without success. Just as he was about to call Lu Zong up to pluck some down, he heard Lu Zong utter an exclamation of awe.

He spun around and saw Lu Zong staring intently at the Gate of Survival, his eyes unblinking. Following Lu Zong’s gaze, Fatty was stunned.

He saw that where the stone wall had melted, a dark, downward-sloping opening had appeared. Most strikingly, the gateway itself was shaped like a large ear.

"A big ear?" Lu Zong mumbled, "How many times have we encountered a big ear now?"

Fatty was equally bewildered. "Big ear... Transmigration? Are we really about to cross over again? And here..."

Lu Zong interrupted Fatty’s line of thought. "Fatty, I know what you were going to say."

Fatty eagerly asked, "Guess what I was thinking?"

Ma Xiong joined their conversation. "Guys, I know what you’re thinking, but I suggest you don't stop working. Otherwise, we’ll all end up as dissolved mush soon, and none of us will survive."

Lu Zong glanced down; the milky-white ** was indeed creeping close to their heels. He hastily climbed up, saying as he ascended, "Fatty, were you saying we have to cross over again to get out?"

Fatty nodded. "That’s what I feel. Otherwise, why would the exit always be shaped like a big ear? It must symbolize something."

Ma Xiong thought Fatty was speaking nonsense. Did they think the ear shape was attractive?

Lu Zong tossed down a length of vine, and Fatty, using his naturally immense strength, quickly managed to bend the thick length around a makeshift handle.

Lu Zong continued to drop vines down while the three maintained their conversation without interruption.

Fatty remarked, "Lu Zong only got half of it right. I was actually thinking about something else."

Lu Zong said with interest, "Oh? Tell me then. What other profound ideas do you have?"

Ma Xiong interjected, "Fatty, I actually thought of what you were thinking too. Let me try to guess if we are telepathically connected. Are you suggesting this big ear is an ancient shamanic weapon?"

Fatty looked at Lu Zong, astonished. "Ma Xiong, I didn't expect that! When did you start reading my mind? Yes, I feel this big ear is a battle weapon of the ancient Shamanic tribes. Think about it: if they were defeated, they could use this big ear—this Gate of Time—to return to the past, fight the battle again, and correct their mistakes before attacking anew. That might be why the shamans were invincible and unconquerable."

Ma Xiong nodded. "Your analysis makes sense, but I find it quite strange. I don't know why, but time travel feels incredibly unbelievable."

Lu Zong, however, remained pragmatic. "Who cares if it’s a Gate of Time or some nonsense? Let's escape first! Fatty, how’s your boat coming along?" He glanced down.

Fatty had already bound five or six wrist-thick vines together. He gave Lu Zong an 'OK' sign and signaled him to climb down.

Lu Zong inspected the raft; it seemed sturdy enough. No more materials were needed, so he descended. Just then, the milky-white ** had reached the stone they were standing on. Fatty quickly jumped onto the makeshift raft, which actually floated.

Fatty boasted, "Damn it, everyone calls me fat and says I can’t ride in a boat. But look at this—a boat we built ourselves is different!"

Lu Zong looked at the raft, which was already submerged halfway, then at Fatty's large frame. He hesitated, but seeing the rotting corpses below, he suppressed his fear and slowly climbed aboard.

The raft was already drawing over twenty centimeters of water, submerging a third of its hull. Adding anyone else might sink it entirely. He said to Fatty, "Fatty, let's paddle toward that door quickly. Once I get you to the opening, I’ll come back for Ma Xiong and Gan Da."

Fatty paddled through the liquid, stirring up clusters of the snakes' rotten skeletons with every stroke. They looked so fearfully perished that Fatty dared not look down, paddling with all his might.

The fluid was rising rapidly, and Ma Xiong could barely endure it. He watched Fatty’s snail-like pace and cried out, "Hurry up! It’s up to my feet, and it stings! It hurts!" He lifted a leg, his face etched in pain, looking toward Fatty and Lu Zong.

Fatty paddled harder, but the density of the fluid made every stroke feel like an immense effort. Despite his gritted determination, the raft moved with agonizing slowness.

Ma Xiong pleaded again, "Please, hurry up! I can’t take much more!"

Fatty glanced toward Ma Xiong and saw that his feet were nearly pulled up to his waist; the fluid was surging fast.