At my sharp command, Hua'er deftly sidestepped, narrowly evading the lightning strike, then wheeled around, tracing nearly half the perimeter of the island's edge. He crouched low, legs coiled, settling two feet from the serpentine thing, emitting a terrifying, low whimper. I couldn't discern if malice flashed in Hua'er's eyes, as his backside faced me, but judging by the rapid, jerky twitching of his short, thick tail, Hua'er was clearly on high alert, prepared to counterattack at any moment.

Because Hua'er’s body obstructed my view, I couldn't immediately make out the true identity of that snake-like creature. Based on the fleeting image burned into my mind, I vaguely felt it wasn't a true snake; it was much shorter than a common serpent, and its head wasn't the flattened triangle typical of snakes. Yet, the thing moved with extraordinary agility; its head and body extended and retracted fluidly, like a flash of lightning, suggesting its power was equal to Hua'er's—truly a match made in heaven. No wonder Hua'er had abandoned us to race onto that small island; he had found prey he favored there.

Hua'er reinitiated the same mind-game tactics he'd used against the giant clam. After a brief standoff of a few minutes, he backed away, his rear end sticking out. In the instant the creature shifted aside, I caught a glimpse of the snake-like thing rapidly submerging and vanishing underwater. Simultaneously, the small island where Hua'er stood actually sank substantially, leaving only a scoop-sized patch exposed above the water. The resulting waves slammed against our feet with a rhythmic snap-snap.

Hua'er, clearly unsatisfied, grew anxious when he saw the creature retreat into the water and the island virtually lose its footing. He pushed off with his hind legs and leaped toward the spot where the thing had vanished, barking furiously. Inconceivably, Hua'er’s angry outburst had an effect: the slowly submerging island rose again, beginning to spin on the water's surface. As it rotated, it also bobbed up and down, seemingly trying to throw Hua'er, who occupied it, into the pond.

Hua'er was lightning-quick. His four paws gripped the island firmly. When he couldn't manage the momentum from the violent rocking, he simply tucked his legs and flattened himself against the island's surface. Though the unseen creature moved with incredible speed, the island's rotation and vertical jolts were markedly slower and clumsier by comparison.

The island spun clockwise for a while, then counter-clockwise, before gradually settling still, ceasing its descent. Hua'er, resigned for the moment, stood and paced to the very tip of the island, barking a few times at me with an air of triumphant accomplishment.

Back when I had warned Hua'er to be careful, Tan Ping'er and Man Niao Niao had flinched in alarm, then urgently started asking what was wrong, what was wrong. I was entirely focused on the island where Hua'er stood and couldn't spare them any attention. Only when the situation seemed to stabilize did I recount exactly what I had witnessed to them.

"Damn it, that thing... it really isn't a snake?" Man Niao Niao burst out first, railing like a shrew after hearing the account.

"I suppose not?" Honestly, even now I couldn't be certain if it was a snake. Oddly, I didn't feel the extreme fear of snakes that usually gripped me. Had the massive python that disgorged the Blood Soul Stele somehow numbed my nerves? What a bizarre occurrence.

"Yingying, you also saw that island rise and fall... and rotate on the water?" Tan Ping'er asked hesitantly.

"I did."

"Then... I'm afraid that island isn't a real island, is it?"

"...?" I smacked my forehead, cursing my brain for being addled by soot. Since the island could rise and fall, and also spin, it naturally couldn't be a genuine island. It had to be some other creature. And considering Man Niao Niao and Tan Ping'er said it was covered in green fuzz and was oval-shaped, what was this thing?

"A turtle!" the three of us exclaimed in unison.

After shouting it, all three fell silent, stunned. We were certainly all thinking the same thought: how in the world could a turtle be that enormous?

After a long silence, Man Niao Niao said in a low voice, "If that island truly is a huge turtle, then what Yingying saw—the snake-like thing—naturally isn't a snake, but rather..."

"A **!" Tan Ping'er finished the thought loudly.

Man Niao Niao and I nearly jumped up, simultaneously whipping our heads toward Tan Ping'er. I don't know if Man Niao Niao saw the expression on her face, but I clearly saw mine: her lovely features instantly darkened as black as ink (though, of course, that was just how it looked to me; to a normal observer, it must have been bright red). Her slender hands quickly covered her mouth. She glanced furtively at Man Niao Niao and me, about to crouch down, but unexpectedly puffed out her chest and sternly rebuked us, "Neither of you are allowed to laugh!"

If Tan Ping'er hadn't added that unnecessary sentence, Man Niao Niao and I would have mostly pretended not to hear and certainly wouldn't have touched upon the awkwardness caused by her hasty interjection. But that girl, trying to cover up, blurted out four words that completely tickled Man Niao Niao's and my funny bones. Man Niao Niao, who always enjoyed kicking someone when they were down, started roaring with laughter the moment Tan Ping'er told him not to, even bending over exaggeratedly.

I covered my mouth with my hand, trying desperately to suppress any sound. However, the air agitated by my laughing fit escaped through my fingers with muffled puffs, and my whole body shook violently.

Tan Ping'er's voice, feigning calm, cut off Man Niao Niao's laughter. "Men laugh foolishly, women laugh strangely; a beggar laughs at his rice sack! Man Niao Niao, isn't it funny?" This piece of authentic Xi Du dialect, spoken through her trembling mouth, sounded surprisingly precise.

"It's not funny! Not funny at all!" Man Niao Niao said while covering his 'crow's beak,' yet he laughed even more shamelessly, his voice carrying a suggestive tone.

"Laugh if you want to, what's the big deal? I'll give you five words... Isn't the turtle's head a **? Don't be so surprised by something you've rarely seen!" Tan Ping'er said dismissively, defiantly pushing out her chest.

"Me... I've rarely seen things? Hahahaha! I've probably seen more than you have!" Man Niao Niao's voice cracked like torn silk as he laughed with extreme brazenness.

I couldn't listen anymore. I sprinted over to Man Niao Niao, kicked him, and scolded loudly, "What are you laughing at? What's so funny? Ping'er is right! ...Hurry up and find some dry kindling to make torches. If anything happens to my Hua'er, I'll skin you alive..." Saying this, I shoved Man Niao Niao aside to rescue Tan Ping'er from her embarrassment.

Man Niao Niao grunted and walked to the end of the embankment.

My own face felt awkward. Although Tan Ping'er couldn't see my expression, I dared not meet her gaze directly, afraid of making her uncomfortable. I desperately tried to fill the silence by making irrelevant conversation: "Damn it, how can there be such a massive turtle?"

Tan Ping'er clearly understood my mood. After a few seconds of silence, she said calmly, "What's so strange about that? Doesn't your Xi Du region constantly produce bizarre creatures? Have you forgotten that giant python?"

Of course, I hadn't forgotten. And when Tan Ping'er mentioned the giant python, a flash of insight struck me—in Ji Ye's 'Waving Hand Song,' the tribes of the 'White Tiger' and 'Fish-Turtle' were mentioned. Furthermore, the stone archway in the Earthly Emperor's city also depicted a giant python and a soft-shelled turtle (Bie). Could these be connected to the giant turtle here? Although I knew a turtle was a turtle and a Bie was a Bie, considering the Tujia people historically lacked written records, with all historical legends passed down orally through generations, the possibility of distortion and mutation was high. Could the Fish-Turtle tribe of Tujia history have revered the turtle as their totem?

This thought wasn't entirely baseless. Just as the Chinese nation's overall totem is the Dragon—which, in reality, doesn't exist (with experts suggesting the 'Dragon' was likely a euphemism for another animal)—if this conjecture holds true, then the legendary Fish-Turtle tribe might very well have used the turtle as their totem.

Of course, this was merely my own speculation, perhaps even idle chatter.

While Tan Ping'er and I were chatting, Man Niao Niao had already followed the water channel we came from, gathered an armful of dry wood, and dragged back several thick vines.

I quickly arranged a few pieces of kindling together, tightly bound them with thinner vines to fashion a torch, and used the lighter Man Niao Niao had in his pouch to ignite it. The torch burst into a huge plume of bright flame, crackling fiercely before my eyes, its brilliant white light illuminating the snow-white embankment brilliantly.

With the firelight, visibility in the space increased significantly. Although the 'small island,' about fifteen or sixteen meters away, wasn't perfectly clear, at least I didn't have to strain my eyes anymore.

The 'small island' hadn't changed during this time; it floated silently on the water. Perhaps Hua'er was tired; he was now lying contentedly on the 'island,' no longer provoking the '**' hidden beneath the water.