The moment I heard Man Niao Niao speak, I wanted to retort, but alas, my will was paralyzed. While secretly thanking the heavens for my narrow escape, I was deeply ashamed; the exit was tantalizingly close, yet because of my inherent fear of snakes—my Achilles' heel—I had dragged Ji Ye and the others back into this sunless abyss once more.

As Ji Ye spoke, Tan Ping’er carefully broke apart several baobaguba (cornbread patties) into small pieces and fed them into my mouth. With my stomach comforted, my strength quickly returned, and my mental state improved by leaps and bounds compared to before.

I scanned my surroundings and found this place to be a small, sandy beach dotted with stones of varying sizes, some sharp, some blunt. A sluggish, dark river snaked between two damp stone walls; its bed was littered with jagged rocks, the water not deep. Under the firelight, a faint mist hovered above the surface. The ceiling and areas further off were obscured by the limited light.

“You feeling much better now?” Ji Ye asked, seeing my spirits revive. “Let’s hurry up and figure out a way out.”

I nodded, signaling that I was mostly fine. I felt the same way; we couldn't stay here long. The old man was right; Anle Cave was indeed treacherous and bizarre. Right now, we were less explorers and more fugitives running for our lives.

Looking at the environment, the only hope of finding an exit seemed to lie in that dark river. Following the principle that “man walks uphill, water flows down,” as long as we persisted upstream, we were surely getting closer to the surface, and thus had a better chance of finding a way out.

“Let’s go! We’ll go against the current.” Ji Ye and Man Niao Niao extinguished their fire, packed up, and, supporting my arms, stepped into the dark river. Tan Ping’er supported my back, gesturing for Hua’er to follow. I had eaten a few baobaguba, and though my stomach no longer ached, my throat was hoarse, and my limbs trembled; I couldn't walk independently and had to rely on Ji Ye and Man Niao Niao to help me grope my way upstream.

I had already experienced the river water—it was bone-chillingly cold. I worried Tan Ping’er couldn't handle it and kept turning to check on her. She communicated with her eyes: “Don't worry, I can manage!” Hua’er, true to her nature, had already bolted ahead, splashing the water wildly.

The dark river had a significant drop, and its course was filled with haphazard rocks. While trying to quicken our pace, we moved with extreme care and caution—a collision with those jagged stones, though perhaps not fatal, would certainly result in torn flesh.

As we walked, I suddenly realized something was wrong.

Ji Ye and Man Niao Niao supporting me were moving upstream faster and faster. Tan Ping’er was right behind me, her body almost pressed against my back; I could even feel the warmth of her soft body and the hot air she exhaled.

I was astonished. Man Niao Niao had the strength of an ox, so his speed was understandable, but Ji Ye, at his age, was moving with the same briskness and vigor as Man Niao Niao. Could some danger be approaching from behind, making them rush forward in such haste?

I turned to look. Besides the sparse sparks from the bamboo lantern, I saw nothing unusual, nor did my ears pick up any strange sounds. I looked at Ji Ye and Man Niao Niao and noticed their faces were etched with surprise and tension. Logically, no matter how strong these two Tujia men were, carrying a hundred-plus-jin person uphill should make them pant like bellows and sweat profusely. Strangely, they weren't sweating, and their breathing was barely audible.

The group’s speed increased until we were nearly jogging forward. The wind whistled louder in my ears, and the bamboo lantern flickered perilously close to going out several times.

After a few more steps, with a soft poof, the bamboo lantern was finally extinguished by a sudden gust of cold air.

The four of us moved as if we were tumbling down a slope, our speed accelerating uncontrollably. Realizing we couldn't stop, Man Niao Niao shoved forward in the darkness, steadying himself while firmly gripping my hand. Tan Ping’er slammed into my back, but Ji Ye, caught by inertia, flew forward with cries of “Ouch!” and a sound of things scattering—where he landed, I couldn’t tell.

Chaos erupted. Anxious, I shouted, “Get the flashlight!” Before my shout faded, Man Niao Niao had already switched on the flashlight and swept the beam forward. What we saw defied belief—Ji Ye was rolling up the river current! His straw carrying-basket was no longer on his back but tumbling upwards in the water, spilling out its contents: the Jingang sundries and a large plastic bag were also rolling upstream.

We were so stunned by the sight that we forgot to pull Ji Ye back. After rolling for a bit, Ji Ye frantically grabbed the edge of a rock, pulled himself onto the bank, and barely managed to stabilize his position. The carrying-basket and its scattered contents, however, bounced and rolled further upstream in the river.

I snatched the flashlight from Man Niao Niao and shone it into the water, discovering with amazement that the river water was actually flowing upwards!

Were we hallucinating? Had we misjudged the river’s upstream and downstream? I rubbed my eyes and pointed the flashlight beam back: it was undeniable, the area we had just passed was definitely lower than our current position! In other words, the river was unequivocally flowing uphill!

As soon as I shone the light on the water, Man Niao Niao started yelling, “Damn it! What the—! The water is actually flowing up?” Hearing Man Niao Niao’s outcry and recalling our walk in the dark river, Tan Ping’er gasped behind me.

Ji Ye muttered above us, clinging tightly to the rock and afraid to let go. Fearing he couldn't hold on and would roll back up the slope, I signaled Man Niao Niao and Tan Ping’er to carefully move closer to Ji Ye. We braced our legs against a rock to steady ourselves and pulled Ji Ye back to his feet.

Once stable, Ji Ye kept lamenting, “When I was carrying it, I thought I was going up toward the surface; who knew I was burrowing deeper!” Judging by his words, he seemed to think he had misjudged the direction because of dizziness. I quickly reminded him, “Don't worry, Old Man. Even though the water is flowing up, we are actually still moving uphill.”

Ji Ye froze when he heard that. “Really?” “Really!” Man Niao Niao and Tan Ping’er echoed solemnly.

Ji Ye took the flashlight, leaned close to the water surface to check the current direction, then stood up and scanned back and forth. “How can such a bizarre place exist? I’ve lived this long and never seen anything so strange!”

“Ji Ye, you wouldn’t know about this. Places where water flows uphill aren't uncommon globally…” I recounted to him what I had learned online about places where “going up is easy, going down is hard,” adding, “…the marvels created by nature baffle even the experts!”

Ji Ye looked enlightened. “Now I finally understand why the water in the ‘One Bowl Water’ never runs dry!”

“One Bowl Water?” Tan Ping’er was puzzled. “What’s ‘One Bowl Water’?”

“‘One Bowl Water’ is a bowl-sized rock basin on the peak of Mount Zhaokou, directly opposite Tianjiaoshan. It was carved manually into the rock plate many years ago. The water inside is sweet and pure, and it never dries up, no matter how much cattle or horses drink. Many experts have studied it, but none could offer a satisfactory explanation. Who knew we would solve this riddle—if the dark river water can flow uphill, then the water in the ‘One Bowl Water’ naturally won’t run dry… It’s amazing that this magical spot exists here, in the shadow of the mountains surrounding Xi Du [Selenium Capital].” Man Niao Niao, being quick-tongued, explained the origin of the ‘One Bowl Water’ to Tan Ping’er.

Hearing Man Niao Niao mention Zhaokouyan, another thought struck me: after entering Anle Cave, we had wandered through countless twists and turns and were completely disoriented. Could it be that we were no longer at the foot of Tianjiaoshan, but had somehow ended up beneath Zhaokouyan?

If that were true, the area beneath Xiama Mouth Village must be riddled with interconnected caves, which would explain the abundance of sinkholes and rock fissures.

Ji Ye arrived at the same conclusion, his voice filled with excitement: “This is great! If we keep going up, maybe we really can reach the vicinity of the ‘One Bowl Water.’ I remember there was a cave there; that must be the exit.”

With a clear direction, the four of us gained significant confidence. Discussing the marvelous spectacle of “water flowing uphill,” we began to trudge forward against the current of the dark river.

The dark river wound and turned, but the water consistently flowed uphill. After walking an unknown distance guided by the flashlight and bamboo lantern, Ji Ye suddenly shouted in pleasant surprise: “Haha! Isn’t that my carrying-basket?” Indeed, his straw basket was jammed against a stone wall, swaying back and forth. We approached and saw that the dark river made a sharp 180-degree turn; after climbing the slope and passing a small saddle, the flow reversed, pouring downwards into a pitch-black sinkhole.

At the bend of the river, there was a small shoal covered in black pebbles. We stepped onto the shallow area and found the ground level and stable, with no sense of going up or down. We realized then we had finally passed that strange, uphill-flowing section. Hua’er stood on the shoal, barking wildly at Ji Ye’s basket. Ji Ye returned my belongings, panted heavily, then waded back into the dark river to retrieve his basket. He bent over and fished around in the water with a sound of intense effort, his face a mix of relief and joy: “Haha! My stuff really was flushed down here!”—this old man was truly something…

Up to this point, besides knowing he carried a piece of fresh pork, an axe, some baobaguba, and a jug of wine, I had no idea what else was in his basket. I felt rather unimpressed by his near-ecstatic expression.

Man Niao Niao was fascinated by the strange slope. During a brief respite, he retreated a short distance back up the slope, then returned, saying, “Damn it, Anle Cave is dangerous, but I never expected such a magical place. —It would be great to develop this spot!” His ulterior motive was clear.

Ji Ye collected his things, went to the river bend, peered down into the sinkhole for a while, and then returned to tell us, “That sinkhole is like it was cut by a knife; it’s slippery as hell, impossible to climb down. It looks like we’ve hit a dead end again.”

By now, although my strength hadn’t fully returned, I could stand normally. Holding the flashlight, I surveyed the surroundings and unintentionally noticed what looked like a basin-sized rock opening on the wall near the shoal. The cliff face was steep, but there were many protruding stones, suggesting we could use them to climb into the opening, although we had no idea if there was a way out inside.

“Niao Niao, go up and check,” I instructed, pointing to the rock opening.

Man Niao Niao agreed, took the flashlight, climbed the rocks on the wall, and in a few swift moves, agilely scrambled into the opening. After the flashlight beam swung around a few times, he threw down the hemp rope and shouted excitedly, “Come up, come up! Good heavens, it’s huge inside!”

I was overjoyed. I quickly put Hua’er on my back, signaled Ji Ye and Tan Ping’er to grab the rope, and climbed into the opening. When I looked in—my great ancestors! It wasn’t just large; it was an endless desert!

I jumped excitedly into the cavern, grabbed some sand from the ground, and realized it wasn’t sand at all, but dry, yellowish-brown soil. Ji Ye set down his basket, snatched the bamboo lantern, and quickly ran forward. Hua’er yelped and followed close behind Ji Ye. As I stood there wondering, I heard Ji Ye shouting loudly ahead: “Saltpeter Cave! Saltpeter Cave!!! This is Saltpeter Cave!” His cry echoed vast and distant in the huge chamber.

Saltpeter Cave? We had entered Saltpeter Cave? This was truly a case of one coincidence leading to a completely unrelated one—we tried to enter Saltpeter Cave because the sky ladder broke, and we tried to exit via the Yin-Yang Tree, yet ended up here, in the Saltpeter Cave bearing traces of the Tujia people… Was this truly fate operating in the unseen world?

We quickened our pace to catch up with Ji Ye. Everything in sight stunned us—the first thing to catch our eye was a massive cylinder built of packed yellow earth, measuring at least ten meters in diameter and about three to four meters high, based on estimation. Surrounding the earth column were several piles of more regularly constructed earthen mounds, on which one could vaguely discern steps carved for ascending and descending. The top of the mounds was about two feet short of the cylinder’s peak. Due to the age, considerable sections of the cylinder and the surrounding mounds had collapsed, with chunks of yellowish-brown earth scattered nearby. Because the cave was vast, the bamboo lantern provided limited illumination, so we could only make out the general outline of the column and the earthen steps.

“Ji Ye, what is this earthen column for?”

“What column? It’s an earthen vat, it must be the legendary ‘Saltpeter Pond.’ If I remember correctly, there must still be saltpeter earth inside the vat. Come on, let’s climb onto the earthen mounds to take a look.” Ji Ye sounded very excited. Holding the bamboo lantern high, he led the way up one of the mounds. The three of us followed closely, treading on the broken earthen steps, and climbed up to where Ji Ye stood.

Under the flickering, ghostly light of the bamboo lantern, we indeed saw that the column was hollow, shaped like a round vat, with a large pile of hard, dried, grayish-white earth turned over and scattered in the middle.

“It’s a saltpeter pond, no doubt,” Ji Ye confirmed. He then noticed several arm-thick, charcoal-like objects stuck haphazardly around the edge of the vat. He tried lighting one with the bamboo lantern, and it immediately flared up with a hula la sound. Analyzing the faint smell that drifted to my nose, I realized those things were torches made from youcong (oily fir). Before electric lighting, these torches, aside from kerosene lamps, were the primary source of light or tinder for local people.

Ji Ye lit the remaining youcong torches, greatly increasing visibility in the space. We then noticed a structure not far from the saltpeter pond—a seven-eyed earthen stove whose outline was barely visible—with a large number of iron pot shards scattered on the stove and in the soil in front of it.

“The old man was right,” Ji Ye said before we could ask. “This saltpeter pond and the earthen stove are equipment for boiling saltpeter. The yellow soil on the ground is saltpeter earth, highly concentrated with alkali salt. Our ancestors would pour the saltpeter earth into the pond, add water, stir thoroughly, then filter it. The resulting yellowish-brown liquid is the saltpeter water—look, isn’t there something like a pipe at the bottom of the pond? That’s for collecting the saltpeter water. Then comes the hardest and most time-consuming process: boiling the saltpeter. They would pour the saltpeter water into the iron pots on the earthen stove, using straw or corn stalks as fuel in the first stove eye to begin boiling…” He recited a vivid couplet describing the saltpeter boilers: “Butt facing the sky, mouth chewing the ground; carrying water, stirring the pot, mixing the muddy mess.”

“An Ge, why use straw or corn stalks as fuel? Aren’t youcong more combustible? Also, why only burn the first of the seven stove eyes? Isn’t that wasting resources?” Man Niao Niao interrupted Ji Ye.

“Because the smoke from burning straw and corn stalks contains alkali, which neutralizes the acidic gases produced during boiling, which is better for the body,” I explained to Man Niao Niao, vaguely recalling something from a chemistry class.

“Ying Ying is right. As for why only the first stove eye is burned, the stove eyes are connected; temperature transfers between them. The saltpeter water is gradually reduced as it moves from the seventh pot to the first. The pots being burned with non-durable straw or corn stalks—if all seven pots were fueled, it would waste manpower and, more importantly, fuel.”

“Does it become crude saltpeter after boiling in the first pot?” Tan Ping’er asked, sounding particularly curious, as she had never heard of such things.

Ji Ye replied, “No. Didn’t I mention it at Longqiao? The purpose of boiling saltpeter—some for making sugar, some for obtaining salt—depends on whether the original saltpeter earth is sweet or spicy. When only about forty percent of the liquid remains in the pot, salt or sugar crystals form at the bottom. The remaining solution is then scooped out and left to settle slowly in a corner, eventually forming blocky crude saltpeter. My grandfather’s generation sold the crude saltpeter to the state as raw material for ammunition; people before them likely used it directly to make gunpowder…”

“Ji Ye, this saltpeter pond and the seven-eyed stove below are still relatively intact, as are those broken pots. Logically, the last batch of saltpeter boilers couldn't have been more than a few decades ago, right? Didn’t you say people had been boiling saltpeter a long time ago?”

“Let’s look around; maybe there are other saltpeter ponds.”

We took a few youcong torches and went to search the rest of Saltpeter Cave. Wherever we went, we found over a dozen more collapsed saltpeter ponds and earthen stoves, some reduced to mere mounds of earth. Judging by the artifacts occasionally kicked out of the soil, people had indeed been boiling saltpeter here many years ago. Man Niao Niao even picked up half a rod, heavily coated in copper rust, which was so brittle it crumbled into copper dust when he gently snapped it.

“Ying Ying, do you think we might find some treasure here? Even a chamber pot used by our great-great-great-grandfathers!” Man Niao Niao’s words reminded me, and I began digging in the dirt—one shouldn't return empty-handed from a mountain expedition.

“Ji Ye, is that a house up ahead?” Tan Ping’er suddenly called out. Following her finger, we indeed saw a low-slung house built of bluestone not far in front of us. We hurried over and found that the crudely built stone house had no windows, only a low and narrow doorway.

Crawling inside the stone room, we found it extremely cluttered. Wooden shavings, porcelain shards, and iron scraps were scattered across the floor. In the middle of the room was an amorphous earth-bed hearth, with a tripod used for supporting pots and cauldrons overturned inside the pit, pinning down several burnt charcoal ends. In a corner, there was a low stove with fragments of daily necessities scattered around it, covered in a thick layer of dust.

Without needing Ji Ye to explain, I understood that this stone house must have been the dwelling of the last group of saltpeter boilers.