The strange floating water band caught Lu Zong's gaze. He'd witnessed this natural phenomenon before—in a park in Shandong just recently, where the locals called it "dragon drinking water." Its formation mechanism resembled that of tornadoes, so was their current encounter one too? Yet this water column could stretch endlessly without collapsing, an inexplicable anomaly. Tilting his head back, he still couldn't glimpse his reflection on its surface.

A sudden exclamation escaped him as he reached out to touch the shimmering band. The texture felt rigidly solid beneath his fingertips, instantly clarifying everything.

"Hey!" Ma Xiong and Fatso yanked their own hands toward the water column at seeing Lu Zong's revelation, then both sprang into enlightenment simultaneously.

Fatso furrowed his brows, "How can it be so hard? Feels like... some kind of..." He waved a hand through the liquid air.

Lu Zong narrowed his eyes, "This isn't ordinary water—it's mercury." The lack of reflections confirmed his theory, but the arching structure remained puzzling. "Some force must be drawing this column here and keeping it suspended," he muttered, following its path toward the bridge's end that vanished into perpetual darkness.

"This leads to an eternal hell?" He scratched his head, staring at the metallic band with furrowed brows.

The spectral bridge seemed to shimmer with purpose—guiding them somewhere. But who or what was orchestrating this? With no other paths visible, it remained ambiguous whether this was salvation or damnation.

Ma Xiong tested its stability by stepping onto the mercury bridge. To his surprise, it yielded only slightly beneath his weight before supporting him fully. "Guys!" he called excitedly, "We can walk across!"

Lu Zong yanked him back down. "Not yet," he warned. Snatching pebbles from the smooth shore, he hurled them onto the bridge. Each stone was instantly devoured by the mercury without a trace.

Sitting cross-legged on the sand, Lu Zong sighed. "Let's wait—this thing might swallow us whole."

Fatso followed suit, copying his leader's relaxed pose. Ma Xiong fidgeted impatiently, "When then?"

"The heat has kept it semi-liquid," Lu Zong explained as frost began crystallizing around them. The scorching air currents that once blew through now felt bitterly cold. When a test stone finally landed with a metallic clank rather than being consumed, he stood up decisively.

"Come on," he said, stepping onto the bridge first while Fatso brought up the rear—the most dangerous position since any misstep would send them plummeting into mercury's embrace.

Their thin clothing offered no protection against the freezing air. As they trudged forward past skeletal trees stripped bare by what felt like autumn winds, Fatso grumbled about the rapid seasonal shifts—summer melting instantly to winter.

"This place has no climate system," Lu Zong explained. "The temperature swings are caused by volcanic heat vents we suspected earlier."

As Fatso trudged through snowfall toward winter's end, he suddenly halted in his tracks. "What if this is Meng Po's bridge?" he asked nervously, referring to the legendary soup vendor for lost souls.

Ma Xiong groaned with hunger pangs. "Don't mention food! Now I'm starving."

But Lu Zong's thoughts drifted darkly. The mercury was toxic—had ancient embalmers once force-fed it to corpses? He tried shaking off his unease as they advanced quarter of the way, only for rising temperatures to trigger new panic.

"The bridge is melting!" he shouted, bolting forward with the others in pursuit.

Each step made the mercury tremble beneath Fatso's feet. Halfway across when Lu Zong abruptly stopped mid-stride—he'd glimpsed a human-shaped shadow undulating within the metallic surface below. The others soon noticed it too.

"Who is that?" Ma Xiong asked, staring at the formless silhouette. No one stood above it—yet shadows shouldn't reflect in mercury.

Then came more figures emerging from beneath them, spectral entities drifting endlessly through the bridge. Lu Zong nearly screamed as he recognized Meng Po herself materializing from the quicksilver—a black-clad crone with a golden ladle levitating above her.

"The dead drink this?" he asked as they watched Meng Po scoop mercury into the ladles, transforming each soul into corporeal forms with their first sip.

But what shocked them more was the occasional female figure emerging among the souls—beautiful, ethereal women whose curves and delicate features seemed impossibly divine.

"Wait!" Fatso suddenly cried out, "There's Ganda! He just drank Meng Po's soup!"

Lu Zong clapped a hand over his mouth as Ma Xiong cursed. But when they confirmed it was indeed their lost comrade emerging from the bridge's end...

"Should we bring him back?" Lu Zong asked.

Fatso shrugged, "We're invisible to ghosts—they can't see us."

Ma Xiong added suspiciously, "But what if Meng Po notices Ganda seeing us?"

Lu Zong hesitated. The rules of this realm remained uncertain...