The woman suddenly fell silent, let out a cold, sinister laugh, and said bitterly, “...You are indeed clever; you were trying to trick information out of me. I was once completely ruined by your sweet talk, even losing my very life to you... How cruel you are!”

With a cry that was neither weeping nor laughing, the woman shrieked, and the phone screen instantly went dark, plunging the surroundings back into inky blackness. The crisp sound of dripping water was shattered by the woman’s scream, falling into indistinct echoes of "Ah—ah—" that lingered long after.

I held my breath, sitting motionless, my eyes fixed on where the phone had been, my heart struck dumb with shock.

I couldn't see what was happening with Ji Ye and Qin Bing'er. However, from their shallow, faint breathing, I knew they too must be biting their lips, afraid to break this moment of silence. Qin Bing'er held my hand tightly, trembling slightly, as if only now realizing that the woman was the legendary “Half-Puppet,” and that my entire conversation with her had been anything but casual small talk. I touched Man Niao Niao, who was sprawled on the ground, and found that only this fellow had heavy, deep breathing, fast asleep and completely oblivious. I found this strange; usually, in a situation like this, Hua'er would be barking loud enough to shake the heavens, so why had it been so quiet these past few moments? It was said that dog teeth were weapons effective against ordinary “Half-Puppets,” which meant this woman certainly wasn't ordinary; otherwise, Hua'er would never have been so subdued and inactive.

The woman's "ah" finally died away completely, and the sound of dripping water resumed its clear, distant rhythm.

“Woof~” After a long pause, Hua'er’s bark broke the profound silence, pulling our thoughts back to reality.

It was only then that I noticed my palm was slick with cold sweat, my whole body felt weak, and the will I had been forcing myself to maintain began to drain from every part of me—I had never imagined in my life I would actually speak to a legendary spirit, and one whose soul had lingered for over two thousand years. If I hadn't experienced it myself, I wouldn't believe such a bizarre encounter was possible even if I were beaten. Things were becoming increasingly fantastical!

I suppose my character hadn't fully switched yet; my mind kept circling back to what connection I had with that woman, and precisely how I had betrayed her faith to earn her current mixture of love and hatred toward me. Judging by her tone, the Blood Soul Tablet I obtained from the giant python was a gift "I" had given her—possibly a love token. But why would "I" be faithless to her? Why did she say she even gave her life to "me"?

I suddenly recalled that the woman admitted the Yin-Yang Tree was used to curse someone, and that person, according to what Ji Ye had told us earlier, was our Tujia ancestor, Lin Jun. Could the "you" the woman spoke of be him? Was I a look-alike of the Old Man? Was the man back at the stone ** indeed him? ... This whole affair was incredibly strange, and it was a shame the woman had left, otherwise, I could have asked for details.

Qin Bing'er clung tightly to my side, pulling my thoughts back to the present. Cherishing what is immediate, what is most real, is what truly matters. Furthermore, although I still don't know what secrets the Blood Soul Tablet hides, since it appeared in Grandpa's dream, by an act against my own will, I have completed the mission Grandpa entrusted to me "over there." Also, the green-haired diagram on Qin Bing'er's back has vanished, providing a perfect resolution for both the living and the dead. This trip to Anle Cave should be over.

What I wanted most at that moment was to see the sunshine I had carelessly squandered. But how could I see my beloved sun again? Staying in this pitch-black place was not an option.

I suddenly remembered the "Poem Lock" the woman mentioned; her resentful words still echoed clearly in my ears: "If you cannot unlock the Poem Lock, you will stay here forever to accompany me..." The profound meaning of this sentence was definitely worth pondering. That woman seemed to have deliberately left us a clue, one that was highly likely the key to our escape.

But what is the "Poem Lock"? A lock made of poetry? What is poetry? And where is the lock?

My historical knowledge is woefully insufficient. Inferring from the woman’s mention of “two thousand years,” coupled with the legend that our Tujia people are descendants of the Ba people, and the Ba State was destroyed by the Qin, the period was likely the Spring and Autumn and Warring States eras. During that time, there was one historical figure I was quite familiar with: Qu Yuan, simply because my lunar birthday falls on the fifth day of the fifth month, the very day Qu Yuan drowned himself in the Miluo River. The poetry of the Spring and Autumn and Warring States period that I knew best was Master Qu’s Li Sao (Encountering Sorrow). Analyzing from a historical perspective, what the woman said about a "Poem Lock" had a certain theoretical basis, and she had spoken with such certainty that such a strange "lock" must indeed exist!

The question was, where exactly was this so-called "Poem Lock"? If one must unlock the "lock," one must first find the "poem," and to find the "poem," one must first find the characters that compose it. But where are the characters?

I thought for a long time and finally realized that in this inky darkness, the only thing that attracted the eye was the ghost-fire painting on the opposite cliff. The "poem" was most likely hidden within that painting. There was another reason for this assumption: since the woman hadn't completely severed ties with "me," and we had already passed through the dangers of Life Sha, Poison Sha, Soul Sha, and Death Sha, there should be no more mechanisms or perilous areas ahead. Therefore, the ghost-fire painting on the opposite cliff was likely the final challenge of our journey in Anle Cave.

Qin Bing'er, sensing my deep thought, held my hand tightly, occasionally squeezing it as encouragement without interrupting my concentration. Man Niao Niao was still unconscious, and Ji Ye was hidden in the darkness, thinking whatever he was thinking; only Hua'er, puffing out its chest, let out an occasional low whimper.

The ghost-fire painting on the cliff was still drifting slowly; the faint blue flames were as bright as ever, and the eight large characters remained elegantly bold.

I stared hard, fixing my eyes on the painting. My gaze swept from the top of the painting to the bottom, and then back from the bottom to the top, yet I couldn't see a single character, not even pictographic ones. I suddenly remembered that ancient people wrote vertically from top to bottom and then scanned three times from left to right, still finding no text, let alone the supposed "poem." All I saw were lines formed by clusters of ghost fires, creating the topography of Xiaomakou Village.

Could the so-called "poem" be those eight characters—"Heavenly Defect, Earthly Lack, Seven Stars Align"? I quickly dismissed this idea. The woman had explicitly told me those eight characters were the name she gave to the natural Feng Shui formation of Xiaomakou Village. Logically, the supposed "poem" would never be displayed so obviously, nor would it conform to the structure and rhythm of poetry.

I wondered if my thinking was too narrow, if I should step outside this confinement and consider other possibilities? Hadn't the woman confirmed that my initial warning and analysis upon entering Anle Cave were correct? "Do not linger, retreat." Then, could the "poem" be hidden within the events or objects we encountered?

I meticulously replayed every detail since entering Anle Cave, piecing together words and playing linguistic games for a long time, but couldn't form a poem that matched any required format or rhythm. I was completely stumped, and my gaze fixed on the ghost-fire painting began to blur...

Yi? A sudden shock, quickly followed by overwhelming joy. I realized that as my vision became unfocused, I made an astonishing discovery—there were indeed characters within that intricate ghost-fire painting, and seemingly quite a few of them. What was it? A three-dimensional stereoscopic image? Yes, precisely a stereoscopic image, the kind that is very popular right now.

With that surge of excitement, my focus tightened, and the characters hidden within the ghost-fire painting vanished again.

Qin Bing'er felt my body tremble and whispered close to my ear, "What is it? Did you find something?" I nodded excitedly, ignoring whether she could see, and murmured to her, "From now on, remember every word I read aloud. Our ability to see the lovely sun again depends on this..."

Qin Bing'er squeezed my hand hard, signaling her understanding.

I tried to let my gaze diverge; the formerly clear ghost-fire painting gradually blurred, while the characters hidden within it distinctly popped out.

I carefully read aloud: "Like flower is cup bow snake clever smile Qian..."

My focus shifted between convergence and divergence; it took several attempts before I managed to read through this string of characters that was neither prose nor poetry. I memorized every character firmly. Although I hadn't arrived at something resembling a "poem," I was one hundred percent certain that the supposed "poem" was definitely hidden within these inexplicable characters.

Although the characters that formed the "poem" were found, this passage made no sense when read aloud. I repeated it silently four or five times, feeling that the characters were somehow incomplete. Linked together, some resembled idioms, some looked like lines from Li Sao, and some seemed like Tujia proverbs, but they all appeared fractured, words without complete meaning, sentences without complete sense... Yi? A sudden flash of insight struck my mind, and I excitedly asked Ji Ye, "Ji Ye, has the Tujia custom of 'Zan Yan Zi' existed for a very long time?"

"Those Daoist masters say that in Ti Ma Shen Ge, the earliest long narrative poem of the Tujia people, there were many lyrics in the style of 'Zan Yan Zi.' Modern Daoist masters still use 'Zan Yan Zi' when singing funeral dirges. For example, I remember one that goes like this: The singing master sings truly not simply, every word and line adheres to the original, only the foolish lack insight, offending the predecessors of the three sides, only the foolish have shallow culture, never having read the characterless heaven. The omitted characters at the end of each line are Dan, Ze, Shi, Sheng, Xian, and Shu respectively. This form is also called 'Ming Qi An Ba' or 'Diao Jiao Lou' [Stilt House]... Hmm? Could the words you just read also use the 'Zan Yan Zi' method?"

I didn't answer Ji Ye, but after a moment of thought, I recited a poem clearly: "Jade shadow, thus dancing, untying robe, difficult to seek, blood bursts, thus captured, soul flies, conquering city." As soon as the poem finished, a familiar sigh from the woman echoed faintly in the darkness. Hearing the sigh, a wave of certainty washed over me—yes, this was the poem that unlocked the "lock."

The woman hidden in the darkness seemed to be waiting for me to unlock the "lock"; after a faint sigh, she lapsed back into silence. While I was ecstatic, I was also amazed that the woman, over two thousand years ago, knew how to apply the principles of three-dimensional art, hiding a passage of text within the ghost-fire painting, and utilizing the Tujia 'Zan Yan Zi' form to conceal such a poem within that text. However, when I examined the meaning of the poem closely, my heart lurched—wasn't this a poem depicting **? The general meaning seemed to be: Your "jade shadow" dances before my eyes, but after I take off my clothes, I cannot find you; only when the blood surges do I capture you, and in the scattering of my soul, I finally conquer your "castle"...

I stood there dumbfounded, taking a good while before remembering that the sentiment of this poem fit the style of that era.

With this thought, my confidence grew; I have the poem, so how could I possibly fail to unlock the so-called "lock"?

But I truly didn't know where the "lock" was. The key to unlocking it was a poem like this—so what was the "lock"? Where was it hidden? I forced my mind to work, to think. I secretly vowed that with Man Yingying’s sharp mind, I must find the "lock"; I refuse to believe in your evil!

At this point, I had completely stopped thinking about the woman's "ghostly" talk. With the precedent of the "Zan Yan Zi" forming a poem, I deduced that the woman must be using a tactic of "fighting fire with fire"—borrowing from our Tujia customs or characteristics to set up an invisible lock and a specific unlocking method.

"The key is a poem, the key is a poem..." I repeated silently in my mind, my thoughts churning violently, my reasoning unstoppable. "And poetry is composed of characters..."

Characters? Ah ha, I finally saw a path! I inwardly admired the ingenuity of this move—don't the Tujia people lack their own written script? Why would the woman use such a ** poem as the key? Wasn't this a very obvious trick of "doing the opposite"?

Having understood the key to the "lock," my spirits lifted considerably. Gathering my courage, I firmly kissed Qin Bing'er on the cheek, then slapped Man Niao Niao, who was still lying there, several times to wake him up. I thought to myself, old friend, don't blame me for hitting you hard; compared to the incident where you wore out my lips, this is mere child's play (literally 'insect's tadpole' vs. 'child's play' in Chinese)!

Man Niao Niao woke up with a start, clueless, and let out a pig-slaughtering shriek, "Who hit me? Who hit me?" He still thought a ghost was hitting him.

"It was me. I'm borrowing your broken mouth." I quickly reassured him; it would be trouble if he passed out again.

"Not lending!" Man Niao Niao was clearly still angry. "Didn't you say you'd rather see the world... than see this broken mouth of mine?"

"You have two choices," I teased with a grin. "One: you lend me your mouth, and we get out. Two: you don't lend it, and you stay in this place forever to keep the woman company. Which do you choose? Hurry up and answer: one or two..."

Before I could count to "three," Man Niao Niao quickly interrupted, "I choose one. But... how do I lend it?"

"It's very simple. You just need to shout out the few characters I'm about to tell you, loudly. Shout them out one by one until I hear a response."

"So that's how you borrow it. Tell me!"

I first read the entire poem to him, then told him to shout the first character.

"Yu!" Man Niao Niao shouted loudly, but the sound wasn't particularly booming and was somewhat hoarse. I listened closely; besides the dripping water, there was no unusual sound. "Again, louder."

"Yu!" Man Niao Niao cleared his throat and roared a second time, his voice indeed full of energy.

Huh? Why was there no reaction from the surroundings? Had I miscalculated? "Again, even louder," I continued to encourage him.

"Yu!"

"Lower the pitch."

"Yu!"

"Higher."

"Yu!"

...

Man Niao Niao roared "Yu" six times repeatedly. On the seventh shout, a loud "BOOM" echoed from not far away. I rejoiced, reached out in the dark, patted his shoulder, "Alright, old fellow, use this same volume to shout out the remaining characters."

"Ying... Xi... Dao... Yi..." With every word Man Niao Niao shouted, there was a thunderous sound.

When the last character was roared out, I counted a total of twenty booms. In the darkness, I concentrated fully, waiting for that door of life to open. After waiting for a long time, there was still no movement; the surroundings remained pitch black.

My heart filled with unease. Had I overestimated my intellect and underestimated the woman’s scheme?

After waiting longer, still nothing. I slumped toward the shallow water but violently straightened myself up, standing firm like a spring, and cheered like a little kid, "The water is rising... the water is rising!"

Ji Ye and the others didn't understand why I was shouting until they realized what rising water meant—wasn't this a natural ladder?

I also understood what the twenty loud booms meant: they were most likely the boulders the woman had arranged, which had fallen into the water due to the sound vibrations, blocking the flow while simultaneously opening another portal—a portal that was very likely the escape route we desperately craved. As for the exact situation, I didn't want to waste effort investigating further.

The water rose higher and higher. The four of us and the dog held onto each other, kicking furiously with all ten legs, managing to stay afloat. Soon, we could no longer see the ghost-fire painting; perhaps it was submerged.

Although my legs ached from treading water, I dared not stop for a moment, inwardly praying to quickly find a place to stand and breathe properly. Every foot closer to the surface meant one step closer to safety. Judging by the water, it wouldn't behave like that Yin River, where the flow went downward instead of up.

Man Niao Niao’s brute strength finally proved useful. He took on the main task of kicking in the water. Although his form was inevitably the only one he knew—the "dog paddle"—he helped us immensely, using the natural rise of the water to ensure the four people and one dog never choked.

"Look! What's that right above our heads?" Man Niao Niao suddenly shouted in surprise.

I looked up and gasped—wow, above our heads was a dim, irregular opening. Though not large, I could faintly make out a mesmerizing sunset glow in the sky...

We were overjoyed and kicked harder. After treading water for a while, we realized the opening was still the same size; we then realized the water had stopped rising at some point.

Using the dim light from above, I spotted what seemed to be a raised stone not far away. I quickly called out for the others to swim over and look—Good heavens, the shore was right behind the stone. We were overjoyed and scrambled onto the bank. Not daring to stop, we used the jagged rocks in the opening to climb out one by one.

When I finally struggled out of the hole, I closed my eyes for a moment before slowly opening them. Looking around, a red sun was slowly rising from behind Tianjiao Mountain. The spot we were on was the hillock locally called "Lian Shu Lao," which was the middle one of the seven small hills of Xiaomakou Village arranged in a straight line.

I snatched the Blood Soul Tablet from Ji Ye's hand, partially shielding my eyes from the blinding sunlight, and collapsed onto the ground, chuckling foolishly for a moment. Feeling suddenly inspired by poetry, I recited: "Oh Sun, my dear mother, to see you again, I weep once more. Tianjiao Mountain props you up, looking just like a lollipop..."

(Volume One: Seven Stars Align - End)