Back at the stone archway outside the Hanging Tower, after Ji Ye merged my flesh and soul back together, he sang some incomprehensible swaying song and then tossed us aside, leaving us adrift. Fortunately, based on the last line of his song, I deduced that the plum blossom pattern on the embroidered shoe sole was a map leading to the Tusi King’s city, which is why we eagerly traveled this far. At the time, I hadn't given much thought to what the strangely embroidered plum blossoms truly signified, but after this entire ordeal, I felt I understood something—perhaps those blossoms were hinting that the journey ahead would be anything but smooth, certain to involve severe trials, and that the size of the blossoms might represent the degree of danger involved. Looking at what we’ve experienced so far, this hypothesis seems confirmed—

The first plum blossom, the smallest one, foreshadowed that narrow passage. I should say that passage itself held nothing particularly noteworthy; aside from being frightened, I, Qin Ping'er, and Hua'er encountered no real danger, though Man Niao Niao took a few shadow arrows that nearly cost him his life—this remains one of the things I cannot fathom: why was only Man Niao Niao "unlucky," while the other person, the other human, and the dog emerged unscathed?

The second plum blossom must have been that Leizi depression. While it posed no immediate physical danger, it nearly trapped us until we starved. Thank goodness for that single breach in the Leizi, and that we happened to have Hua'er with us, allowing its relatively small body to squeeze through. But what happened after Hua'er got out? And how did that millstone start moving? That is another mystery for now. Perhaps the layered Leizi structures were man-made, definitely containing mechanisms, and Hua'er unintentionally triggered one, causing the millstone to turn and create an opening for escape... Of course, this scenario doesn't feel like mere coincidence; perhaps there was another reason?

The third plum blossom, naturally, was the quicksand capable of swallowing humans and beasts. According to Man Niao Niao and Qin Ping'er, the quicksand was vividly crimson, not ordinary yellow sand. So, what exactly is this red quicksand? Recalling the function of the Leizi, the deep pit dug behind it, and the layout of the quicksand beneath, I vaguely suspected that the Leizi was used to refine some kind of mineral. This mineral might very well be the red quicksand itself, and the massive Leizi was perhaps used to crush the ore. In ancient times with undeveloped productivity, using stone tools to crush minerals would be an effective method. Judging by the seven or eight segments of the Leizi's millstone, perhaps the people of that era required multiple stages of processing to completely pulverize the ore, hence the incredibly fine red sand... The question remains: where did the power to turn the Leizi come from? Was it manual labor or harnessed natural force?

The fourth plum blossom was the layer of oxygen-depleted gas that nearly suffocated us—this pool of gas beneath our feet. This gas pool has both human and natural elements. The human factor is clearly the smooth ravine below. If my previous conjecture is correct, after refining the useful mineral, the people of that time certainly needed a way to transport it out, hence the road-like ravine for easy hauling. As for the means of transport, that remains unknown, but the ancients possessed their own wisdom; if they could refine minerals, transport certainly wouldn't be an insurmountable difficulty. The natural factor, of course, is the coal burning on the cliff face. However, I cannot tell if the entire ravine of coal has been burning continuously or if the combustion only started after we entered. Given the thick layer of oxygen-depleted gas filling the ravine, I suspect the former possibility is more likely; at the very least, this coal has not begun burning in a short time.

From this analysis, the danger level at each location intensified sequentially, largely aligning with the symbolism of the plum blossoms embroidered on the shoe sole. Purely based on this point, my decision back then was not wrong. Tusi King Qin Cheng—or perhaps the "millennia-long reincarnation I seek," as sung by Ji Ye—lies at the location of the last plum blossom embroidered on the sole! Whatever the case, we were undeniably getting closer to our final destination.

Certainly, this analysis also contained baffling elements. Judging by the shape of the plum tree, there should be a trunk connecting the blossoms, representing concrete paths, yet our journey so far has revealed no established road. Perhaps this path is merely conceptual? Or perhaps it is something we entirely fabricated? As Mr. Lu Xun once said, "Originally, there was no road in this world; when many people travel it, a road is formed!" This place is now seldom visited; when fewer people traverse it, the path ceases to exist.

Regardless of the speculation, excitement outweighed apprehension. Having reached this conclusion, proceeding forward must be the right course of action. There is no turning back now; or rather, even if there were a path back, I wouldn't take it. Pressing forward is simply in my nature.

Of course, a degree of anxiety is unavoidable. The three humans and one dog were utterly exhausted after passing just four "blossoms." What will the next eight increasingly larger "blossoms" represent? And why must these twelve "blossoms" be so viciously malicious?

Even while engaged in this deep thought, my actions were unimpeded. As I walked toward the end of the dike, I was startled to see water trickling down the cliff face. I tasted a drop; it was cool and even held a faint sweetness. Of course, this might just be my perception; when one is desperately thirsty, even one's own urine can taste sweet and refreshing.

Originally, there was water inside the dike as well, with the surface about an arm's length below the crest of the dike, allowing one to scoop it up while leaning over. However, I noticed the water in the pond inside was surging with undercurrents, murky water churning, and white vortices occasionally bubbling up with a gurgle. The surface was covered with assorted weeds and duckweed, emitting a strong, fishy odor. I dared not gamble with the lives of my companions. If there were some poison within, drinking it down without a second thought would lead to a horrific end. I absolutely would not permit, nor would I ever allow, such a "drinking poison to quench thirst" situation to occur.

By this time, I had clearly surveyed the situation in the pond inside the dike. The pond was an irregularly shaped rectangle; its irregularity stemmed from the cliff walls on both sides folding and undulating like bolts of cloth hanging in a shop. Approximately twenty meters opposite the dike beneath my feet, there was another, even higher dike, and beyond that dike was another long set of ladders. Between the two dikes lay this stagnant pond of unknown depth.

Seeing the scene clearly, my eyebrows knitted together: How were we supposed to cross this pond?

I lay prone on the cliff wall, gulping down the cool magma water until my stomach sloshed loudly, then stopped.

The cool water settled in my belly, bringing an indescribable comfort, a joy almost more intoxicating than the legendary Ginseng Fruit. The oppressive heat vanished instantly. Not daring to waste any time, I quickly stripped off my clothes, found a small waterfall to wash them clean, then saturated the fabric with water and carefully cupped some back, squeezing it into Man Niao Niao’s and Qin Ping’er’s mouths.

Man Niao Niao and Qin Ping’er had regained some strength; the cool water had cleared their minds considerably. Of course, this small amount wasn't enough for them. They struggled up from the ground and came to where I drank, lapping up the water greedily. In moments, water sloshed audibly in all three stomachs, and Man Niao Niao even let out a long, satisfied burp that was quite comical to witness.

After Qin Ping'er and Man Niao Niao had drunk their fill, I recounted my analysis to them point by point. Neither offered any dissent. Indeed, in a situation like this, someone must take the lead in decision-making; otherwise, if everyone argues their own case, wouldn't we just scatter like loose sand? Therefore, we decided to continue moving forward.

"Where is Hua'er?" Qin Ping'er asked, looking around.

Hua'er? If Qin Ping'er hadn't mentioned it, I would have almost forgotten about the creature. Where had this fellow wandered off to? Since we struggled onto the dike, we hadn't seen hide nor hair of it, nor heard a sound.

My heart tightened. Looking at the immediate environment, Hua'er couldn't have gone far. Did it accidentally fall into the water in a panic? But that seemed impossible; generally speaking, pigs can swim the three rivers and dogs can swim the four seas—dogs are natural swimmers. Even if it fell into this pond, it shouldn't sink. The only plausible explanation is that Hua'er encountered some unforeseen danger after falling into the water.