I recalled that moment, poised precariously on that crossbeam, the sharp agony nearly stripping me of my senses. The embroidered shoe must have slipped from my grasp right there. “I’ll go look for it!” I started to move quickly, but Qin Bing'er grabbed my arm, “Hold on. Let me see your foot… Huh? Why are you barefoot? Where are your shoes?”

I managed a wry smile. “I lost them while sliding down from up there… It’s no big deal, let’s find that embroidered shoe first!”

“No way,” Qin Bing’er stated firmly. “Lift your foot…”

Pain, like sorrow, remains unfelt until it is provoked. Caught between haste and hesitation, I mumbled, “…My feet don't smell very good, so there’s no need for an inspection, right?” I immediately swung the beam of the flashlight elsewhere, trying to distract her.

Qin Bing’er was domineering; she snatched the flashlight, lifted my foot, and clicked her tongue. “And you said it was no big deal? This foot is about to turn into braised pig’s trotters… Stay still!” Qin Bing’er tore a piece of cloth from her collar, first wiping away the mud and sand caked with dried blood, then tearing off two more strips to wrap both my feet tightly. “Sigh! I don’t have any spare shoes right now, so this will have to do temporarily. Just walk slowly yourself!” Although her tone was even, the deep affection woven within it made me truly feel—pain was nothing. Just now, as she held both my feet in her embrace, her warm, small hands kneading them gave me a comforting and blissful sensation. A warmth involuntarily surged into my lower abdomen, and several times I wanted to extend my big toe to nudge her… Stop it. If I think any further, the word to describe it would be ‘lust running rampant’—What a ruffian!

With my nearsighted eyes, everything about Qin Bing’er was blurry, and her face showed severe ghosting, but I could still perceive the tender affection in her expression.

Getting back to business was paramount. “Alright,” I stood up. “Let’s hurry and find that embroidered shoe!”

“Let Hua’er go. It was the one that dug up that embroidered shoe, and its sense of smell is sharp. It’s much better at finding things in the dark than you or I…” Qin Bing’er said, holding my arm, her concern evident in every word.

I slapped my forehead, secretly cursing myself for being so dense. Why didn't I think of the ready helper? I stroked Hua’er’s head and spoke kindly, “Buddy, you’re agile. Go up and look for that embroidered shoe, okay?” A flicker of hesitation crossed Hua’er’s eyes, but it seemed to understand my words. It tilted its head up to glance at the pitch-black void above, wagged its tail, and with a few agile leaps down the stone-stepped street it had descended, melted into the darkness.

Even with the flashlight beam, I was practically blind. Looking up at the ceiling, beyond a sense of profound darkness, I couldn't see anything else. I could only imagine that what was above was certainly not the sky; we must be covered under a gigantic ‘iron pot.’

“Bing’er, why did that burial mound suddenly collapse?” It was only now that I remembered I had asked this question before, but at the time, preoccupied with the wonder of the stilt-house complex below and a jumble of chaotic thoughts linking the entire event, I had completely overlooked this question.

“I saw you walking back and forth between the broken stele and the Twin Fir trees while holding that embroidered shoe, your brow furrowed, knowing you were pondering something, so I didn't dare interrupt you. Truthfully, when I first saw that embroidered shoe, I also found it unbelievable, so I wanted to check if that stone tablet had any markings or anything on it. As a result, when my hand gently pushed the stele, the ground suddenly shook, and immediately it collapsed. Fortunately, I reacted quickly and managed to grab Hua’er’s hind leg in time…”

“...?” I was dumbfounded, silently recalling for a long time, before hesitantly saying, “Could it be… that broken stele is the mechanism to open the underground world? And does it absolutely have to be opened by you? I kicked it too, but nothing happened?”

“Whether it’s a mechanism, I don’t know. Whether only I can open it, I don’t know either. I prefer to believe this was arranged by fate…” Qin Bing’er said wistfully.

Wasn't that the truth? I found the embroidered shoe, thought of the number "48," and vaguely felt I had grasped a very important clue. Later, I confirmed that the distance from the Twin Fir trees to the stele at the burial mound was exactly four zhang and eight chi, coinciding exactly with the number "48." I guessed the embroidered shoe was a marker left by Madam Mo, intended to guide her descendants—who were highly likely to be me and Qin Bing’er—to find Tan City. And just as I figured this out, wondering where to look for the other embroidered shoe, Qin Bing’er coincidentally went to push that stele. The result was the ground sinking. I couldn't save her in time; Qin Bing’er and Hua’er fell into the hole. Without a second thought, I jumped in after them, only to discover that there was actually another world beneath the surface... If this wasn't fate’s arrangement, what was it?

Thinking this way, I became quite excited. Since it was fate’s arrangement, the tomb of Tan City, which we had tried every means to find, was likely hidden among these underground stilt houses. At the very least, arriving here meant we were one step closer to the long-awaited, elusive Tan City.

“If Uncle An and Niao Niao knew we were missing, I wonder how frantic they would be?” Qin Bing’er suddenly changed the subject, speaking softly.

“Sigh! Let them worry. I never knew Man Niao Niao had such a severe gambling addiction. That guy is still sleeping right now; he couldn't care less if we live or die. When we get back, I’m going to scold him until he sees stars… As for Master Ji, sigh…” I didn't want to continue. I was growing increasingly disappointed in him; to learn the Xiu arts from the old man, he wouldn't even speak a word to me, yet he's playing hide-and-seek like a little girl, expecting him to help me find Tan City… Hmph!

“Let’s not mention those two fellows. I refuse to believe that unless it’s Butcher Zhang, I’m going to end up eating a live fattened pig…” I said sullenly.

“Yingying, I see one flaw in you: you are too emotional. How would Niao Niao know we ran into this kind of trouble? And Uncle An, even though he hasn't said a word to us since he helped Sister Qiao’s family with the delivery, and he’s nowhere in sight now, I believe he has his reasons for acting this way. I don’t believe he would abandon us…”

This was probably the first time Qin Bing’er had ever pointed out my flaws so frankly. This statement had two implications: first, it showed that Qin Bing’er and I were growing closer and becoming inseparable; the second implication was that I had been unconsciously ‘beating down’ Man Niao Niao.

Had I truly gone too far?

Seeing my silence, Qin Bing’er chuckled softly in the darkness, sounding slightly shy. “Your name and Man Niao Niao’s name are quite interesting…”

I was startled by this. “How are they interesting?”

“You are called Man Yingying, and he is called Man Niao Niao. In any case, they both refer to things that fly. But… the character for ‘Eagle’ (Ying) has the character for ‘Bird’ (Niao) underneath it… Doesn't that mean you are always riding on top of him? Moreover… moreover…” Even though Qin Bing’er had become much bolder and more assertive recently, when she spoke of ‘underneath’ and the character ‘Bird,’ her tone was so delicate it felt like you could squeeze water from it.

I was taken aback; I had never considered this angle. I said stiffly, “That’s not my fault; blame him for writing his characters like he’s scratching with a chicken’s claw…” Next, I nervously told Qin Bing’er the origin of the nickname “Man Niao Niao.” Hearing it, Qin Bing’er burst out laughing. “The first time I heard you call him that nickname, I felt that the character ‘Bird’ must have some significant background and definitely wasn't a compliment. I never imagined it was quite like that.”

“Forget it, let’s not talk about him anymore.” This wasn’t the time to discuss such trivial matters, so I quickly changed the subject. “Bing’er, you said you’ve been here before. Do you recognize those inexplicable large characters on the plaque?”

“If you don’t recognize them, how could I?” Qin Bing’er’s answer gave me a tiny sense of accomplishment.

“Then… your eyesight is better, what is behind that stone archway?”

Qin Bing’er took the flashlight, stood on tiptoe, and swept the light inside several times, saying, “It looks like another stilt house, quite far away. The flashlight beam isn't strong enough, so I can’t see very clearly, but I get the feeling that this stilt house is very large and very strange…”

“How is it strange?”

“That building looks entirely black!”

A black building? I strained my eyes trying to look at the so-called black stilt house, and the image I received was: far more than just a black building; in my sight, it was an entirely black world… Damn my myopia!

“Why has Hua’er been gone so long without returning? Is something wrong with it?” Qin Bing’er sounded very anxious.

Indeed, why was there no news from Hua’er? The stone-stepped street wasn't long, and given its agility, even if it couldn't find the embroidered shoe, it should have returned to report by now.

I suddenly recalled that Hua’er hadn't barked once since falling down here, and the hesitation in its eyes when I ordered it to look for the shoe—my brain suddenly clicked, and my heart began to pound like gongs and drums—Could something have happened to Hua’er?

“Hua’er… Hua’er…” I shouted a few times and ran toward that stone-stepped street, planning to go meet it. However, after only a few steps, my foot went through empty air, and I fell to the ground with a thud. The flashlight flew about a meter away, and the light instantly dimmed considerably. Ignoring the stinging pain in my knees, I crawled over, retrieved the flashlight, and shone it back, discovering that the place where I had just lost my footing was a stone-lined gutter, two feet deep and one foot wide. Damn it, why didn’t I notice it on the way in?

I had no time to think further. With a sweep of the dim yellow light, I vaguely glimpsed a few crooked, black dead branches at the bottom of the gutter. Joy filled me; heaven hadn't completely sealed the path. These could be used to make a few torches; otherwise, once the flashlight batteries died, not only I but Qin Bing’er too would become blind.

Huh? Why were these dead branches so soft and icy cold? This question lingered in my mind for less than a tenth of a second. I waved my hand, instinctively attempting to knock the dust off the gutter, only to have those soft, cold branches snap into several pieces with muffled thuds…