The black world before my eyes didn't last long. After about two or three minutes, the things in my sight returned to being black and white. Although my limbs were so stiff and numb that I could barely move freely, my mind was gradually clearing up.

Enduring the sharp pain in my inner thigh and shoulder, I struggled to stand up and check on that fellow, Man Niaoniao, only to find the situation dire. After Qin Bing'er pulled him up, he was resting with his waist and abdomen against the stone beam, his hands and feet dangling in the air. He was breathing shallowly, taking in far less air than he was letting out, clearly having expended all his vital energy in that desperate struggle. This was akin to pouring oil on a fire, pushing someone who already had one foot in the gates of hell even closer to the next world.

Qin Bing'er was exhausted too, positioned almost identically to Man Niaoniao on the stone beam, gasping for breath, her face pale, her small, dark mouth trembling slightly. On her right wrist, there was a shocking, dark mark—clearly from where I had gripped her.

“Bing’er, are… are you alright?” As I asked, my throat felt rough and bitter, and my voice trembled uncontrollably, just like my body.

“I… I’m fine! Just… exhausted!” Qin Bing’er managed to lift her head, casting a vacant glance in my direction. “Are… are you okay too? Hurry… save Niaoniao, he might… not make it!”

I knew that without her saying it. I struggled to get up, furtively pulling up my trousers, then helping Qin Bing'er to stand. I moved close to her body, turning to stand in front of her, and touched Man Niaoniao. He was ice cold all over. Panic seizing me, I quickly instructed Qin Bing’er to carefully crawl to the end of the beam and lean against the slope wall, staying put. I straddled the beam like a rider in a crouch, bracing my hands under Man Niaoniao’s chest.

My chin accidentally bumped the arrow sticking in his back. Man Niaoniao gave a slight jerk and let out a low moan. A glimmer of hope ignited in me. Without time to care about where else those strange arrows were lodged, I shouted, “Buddy, if you can move, give me a hand!” As if hearing my shout, Man Niaoniao seemed to respond, using the upward lift from my hands to push off, bringing his legs up to kneel on the stone beam. I turned sideways, grunted, and hoisted Man Niaoniao’s arm over my shoulder. The two of us stood on the narrow beam, swaying precariously, our figures shaking like willows in the wind.

Damn it all, I cursed under my breath. After a few wobbles, I held firmly onto Man Niaoniao’s waist and carefully shuffled in front of him, pressing my back against his chest, mustering every ounce of strength to drag him toward the center of the beam. Although my eyes could only perceive shades of black and white, further obscured by a curtain of sweat from my brow, I could still make out a larger, wider circular platform at the beam’s center. Compared to the narrow, slick beam, that circular platform was undoubtedly an excellent place to find stable footing.

Though the distance was only about ten meters, carrying Man Niaoniao on my back was an arduous, grueling task. Several times, I nearly fell off the beam. Thankfully, Man Niaoniao’s weight helped anchor my stance, and each time I managed to regain my balance after a few shakes. But the man on my back grew heavier and heavier; in the final few steps, I dragged him toward the platform almost like a barge hauler, inch by inch. When I finally stumbled onto the platform, the tension in my entire body released, and I collapsed heavily onto the surface. Man Niaoniao, falling where he lay, crushed me with his mountain-like weight, making me wince, my whole body feeling as flat as a photograph.

After catching my breath for a good while, I carefully shifted my body out from under Man Niaoniao, letting him settle onto his stomach on the platform.

Aside from the two arrows in his back and the back of his head, there were shafts of shadowy arrows lodged in both of Man Niaoniao’s shoulders, his waist, his left knee bend, and his right calf—one in each spot. The two white feathers on the ends of the arrows fluttered gently, like the malicious mockery of a demon. There was no visible bloodstain on his thin clothing near the shafts, so I had no idea what the situation was underneath.

I was utterly spent, my face covered in cool beads of moisture—I couldn’t tell if it was cold sweat or tears.

I knelt beside Man Niaoniao, unsure of what to do. If Old Man Ji had been here, he certainly would have known how to save Man Niaoniao. But the reality was that this unlucky old fellow had vanished somewhere, leaving me to handle this extremely tricky situation. I wasn't trained for this; wasn't this clearly a case of forcing a duck onto a perch?

Still, Man Niaoniao’s life had to be saved somehow.

“Yingying, where are you?” Perhaps Qin Bing’er had recovered, as her voice no longer trembled; it was now laced with more anxiety.

“We… we are here!”

“Good, I’m coming!” There was a series of thump-thump sounds along the beam as Qin Bing’er scrambled and shuffled over like a frog, arriving next to me. There wasn’t enough space left on the platform, so Qin Bing’er settled down sitting on the edge of the beam.

“Have you thought of a plan?” Qin Bing’er asked urgently once she was settled.

“…Not yet. I still need two more things!”

“What two things?”

“Clear water and chopsticks!”

“…Clear water should be easy to find. I drank some water trickling down the slope wall earlier; it was very clean. But… where can we find chopsticks? Do they absolutely have to be chopsticks?”

“I don’t know. I saw my grandfather use them like this when I was little.”

“…Where is this so-called Yin Jian you speak of? Point it out to me!”

I dug a lighter out of Man Niaoniao’s pocket, lit it, and pointed to the arrows on his body. “Here… here… and here…” Qin Bing’er’s brow furrowed noticeably. She hesitated, then said, “Ying, is there something wrong with your eyes? There are no Yin Jians where you’re pointing!” As she spoke, she reached out to touch the arrow in Man Niaoniao’s back.

My eyes widened suddenly—when Qin Bing’er’s small hand approached Man Niaoniao’s back, the arrow she couldn't see actually wobbled slightly, and the white feathers on the shaft fluttered more intensely without a sound. I hesitantly reached out to touch that arrow, but it felt like a shadow cast from somewhere, completely intangible.

Blast it all! I can see it but not touch it, and Qin Bing’er can touch it but not see it! This is some bizarre, piss-and-shit situation!

“Bing’er… you just touched that arrow. Do you… feel anything in your hand?” I stared intently at Qin Bing’er.

“I feel something, it’s very cold!”

I was slightly disappointed; I had felt that sensation too. Refusing to give up, I gripped Qin Bing’er’s wrist to try and pull the arrow out. Her hand hadn’t actually touched Man Niaoniao’s skin, yet Man Niaoniao’s body jumped like a fish, and the arrow moved slightly.

Could Qin Bing’er’s hand substitute for the chopsticks? Excitement bubbled up inside me.

Never mind now; Man Niaoniao was already practically dead weight. As long as there was a glimmer of hope, I had to try. Whether it worked or not depended on Man Niaoniao’s luck—and with such poor luck, he surely couldn’t be doomed this thoroughly, right?

I quickly told Qin Bing’er to hold still, then carefully crawled to the other end of the stone beam. Reaching out, I felt for it and, sure enough, cool water was trickling from the crevices in the steep slope wall. Overjoyed, I brought my mouth close to the rock face and took two long sips to soothe the burning sensation in my throat. Then, I took off my upper garment, spread it out against the rock face, and quickly soaked it through.

Clutching the dripping garment like a newborn infant, I shuffled back to the platform, squeezing all the water onto the shadowy arrows near Man Niaoniao’s body. Then, I began striking down hard with my open palm, like beating soggy cotton batting.

Qin Bing’er was clearly startled by the series of slap-slap sounds. After two seconds of silence in the darkness, she asked, “Ying, what are you doing?” I didn’t answer; in fact, I didn’t have the time. My hands didn’t pause for even a second, striking Man Niaoniao’s body even more vigorously. As I hit him, I muttered inwardly, Niaoniao, don’t blame me for being heavy-handed. Compared to your life, this little bit of flesh pain is something you should be able to bear. I have no other choice…

I only stopped when my palms went numb from the striking, and I began rubbing them. However, a problem arose during the beating: I dared not strike the areas where the arrows were lodged in his back and the back of his head. What if I displaced his heart or gave him a concussion? If he recovered someday, he’d surely hold me accountable! Besides, those two spots had very little muscle, and my own hands were already swollen—my will was strong, but my strength failed me.

Hearing my ragged breathing and receiving no answer, Qin Bing’er dared not ask further. Her bewildered eyes followed the slapping sounds, and the muscles in her face twitched periodically—she was clearly at the peak of tension.

At this point, I still wasn't entirely certain that Man Niaoniao had been struck by the so-called "Yin Jian," nor did I know if my brutal pounding was the right remedy or just random desperation. With trepidation, I rolled up Man Niaoniao’s trouser leg and indeed saw, amidst the darkness on his calf, a patch of ghastly white spatter around the arrow—it was exactly like the scene I had witnessed years ago. I thought to myself, It is! This is the Yin Jian!

My heart relaxed a little. I took Qin Bing’er’s hand, asked her to open her fingers, and slowly guided her hand down to the shaft of the arrow on his calf. I helped her grip it tightly, and with a pull upward, Man Niaoniao convulsed as if zapped by electricity. The Yin Jian, invisible to Qin Bing’er, was yanked out. I didn’t dare look closely; with a sweep of her hand, I tossed the extracted Yin Jian far away.