Haha, it wasn't that my flower's (Hua'er's) power was exceptional, but rather that I happened to glimpse its four paws firmly clamped onto a pitch-black iron chain. An iron chain, and a pitch-black one at that, implied something significant: someone had been here before. If someone had been here, it meant someone had left... In any case, there was evidence of human presence, as no other creature could have hung that chain here.

This meant that I, Qin Ping'er, and Hua'er might not have to drift here forever until we died.

Qin Ping'er hadn't seen the chain, and I only caught a fleeting glimpse of Hua'er’s situation. "Hua'er... why is Hua'er clinging to the rock face?" I didn't have time to explain in detail. I quickly handed her the lighter, braced myself, planted my hands on the cold stone wall, and pushed with all my might, as if trying to slide open a door. The current wasn't fast to begin with, so under my brute force, the coffin boat quickly stopped. Seeing this, I twisted my waist, moved my hands forward rapidly to change position, and told Qin Ping'er, "Lend a hand, swing the coffin over to Hua'er." Qin Ping'er didn't understand, but hearing my urgency, she didn't ask many questions. Holding the lighter in one hand, she braced her other hand against the stone wall and pushed in the same direction as me.

The small boat drifted gently on the water. Through the efforts of Qin Ping'er and me, the coffin boat finally approached the pitch-black iron chain. After one final shove, I rapidly reached out and firmly grasped one end of the chain that disappeared into the water, securing the coffin boat. Simultaneously, I pulled Qin Ping'er over with one hand, ensuring her grip was tight on the chain as well.

Once secured, we were delighted to discover that there wasn't just one chain on the rock face, but a series of indentations extending upward along the chain. Qin Ping'er exclaimed in surprise, "Why are there Shou Ba Yan (Hand-Hold Rocks) here too?"

"What? Is this what the Shou Ba Yan you saw yesterday looked like?"

"Yes! Almost exactly the same!"

"That's good then," I sighed in relief, my joy growing. "This proves that this stone ladder was man-made too. Since the ladder goes up, regardless of whether it was meant for ascent or descent, there must be an exit above. We're saved! Heaven never seals off all roads to survival!" By the end, I was nearly choked with emotion.

Qin Ping'er had obviously grasped the possibility without me needing to elaborate. She immediately scaled the cliff using the iron chain. Seeing that both I and Qin Ping'er understood the meaning behind its calls, Hua'er used its legs vigorously, scrambling upward with a flurry of sound (pili-pulu), leaving us space to stand.

The windproof lighter roared, heating its casing until it was nearly too hot to hold. I had to let go, unwilling to waste this potential lifeline of fire. As soon as the flame died, boundless darkness surged in. Qin Ping'er and I had no choice but to follow the chain, tracing the indentations on the wall, moving upward step by painstaking step. We greeted each other as we climbed, soothing our tense spirits.

Time was impossible to judge in the darkness. Eventually, after I was so drenched in sweat I wanted to strip off every stitch of clothing, Hua'er suddenly let out a sharp cry again, and this sound was already receding into the distance, moving quite fast. I was instantly happy; it seemed we had reached the top. I wondered what the scene above would be like. A few seconds later, I indeed heard Qin Ping'er's elated voice, "We're finally up! Eagle Eagle, hurry!"

I added some strength, pulling on the swaying chain and climbing a few quick steps until my hands gripped the edge of the sheer cliff. Exhaustion and tension made my whole body nearly give out, but victory was in sight, so I dared not delay. Summoning every ounce of strength I had, I pulled and pushed, leaping onto the summit. Then, I collapsed onto the ground, panting like thunder, too weary to move.

Qin Ping'er was beside me, and she was in no better state. I reached out and touched her; she was also covered in a sheen of hot sweat, lying next to me on the cool ground in silence.

Just as I was about to ask about her condition, a muffled, thunderous BOOM... CRACK suddenly echoed from a distance below my feet. In truth, I couldn't gauge how far "distant" that sound was; I only knew the muffled impact resonated beneath me for quite a while. I couldn't fathom the source of the sound, but as I pondered, Qin Ping'er offered a possibility: "It must be that broken coffin slamming against the rock face to make such a noise."

I thought back and realized it was indeed possible. However, the implication behind this "possibility" chilled us. The water flow had been very slow; even if the coffin boat hit the wall, it shouldn't have made such a loud noise. There was only one explanation for this anomaly: the water must have sped up somewhere, carrying the coffin violently against the cliff until it shattered, causing that massive sound. Looking at it this way, we had practically just stepped through the gates of hell. If we had delayed escaping the coffin much longer, we might have been turned into mincemeat by now... Amitabha! Bless us!

After catching our breath sufficiently, Qin Ping'er and I got up from the ground and shouted for Hua'er. Hua'er barked not far ahead, its voice sounding calm. I relaxed. I felt around on the ground but found nothing useful. I had no choice but to take Qin Ping'er's hand, probing with each step, until finally, I touched something hard—the rock wall.

This was much better. With the wall, we only had to worry about one side, avoiding the awkward and precarious feeling of walking a tightrope in absolute darkness. Hua'er crawled back from ahead, whining softly near our feet and leading the way. This reassured us even more. I might not believe in ghosts, but I absolutely trusted Hua'er's senses.

The wound on Hua'er's leg healed within a few days. This was entirely due to its inherently robust constitution, and secondly, the herbal medicine Ji Ye had found was truly effective. Without that dangling lump on its leg, Hua'er’s movements were much more agile.

I increasingly felt that Hua'er was no ordinary canine. It had survived the legendary Stone Gu curse, which struck fear into all who heard of it, and not only was it fine, but it was also attuned to my thoughts, reliant on me, and incredibly spiritual—far more reassuring and comforting than the living Man Niao Niao.

We walked like this, probing step by step, for half an hour until we reached a safe place. First, I must clarify how I calculated this half-hour duration: my heart rate at the time was probably around 120 beats per minute. I counted silently as I walked, totaling 3,635 beats. I rounded it off to reach the final figure. Some might doubt if a person can hear their own heartbeat without instruments, but that’s because you haven't experienced walking slowly in extreme darkness, under high tension, amidst terrifying silence. In such conditions, you can even hear the footsteps of Death, let alone your own heartbeat.

This so-called "safe place" was not an overstatement. I judged it safe primarily based on Hua'er's calls. This fellow ran back and forth several times to my right, humming as it went, so I concluded this was likely not a deep abyss or chasm. Next, I touched a dry stick. I was startled at first—I hadn't felt anything there moments before, so how did a piece of deadwood appear out of thin air? Only after hearing Hua'er's indistinct whines did I understand: the creature must have retrieved a piece of dry branch from somewhere and brought it to me in its mouth.

As I said, Hua'er and I were almost telepathically linked. Upon touching that stick, how could I fail to grasp Hua'er's meaning? So, I reached out and took the stick, hooked my foot around Qin Ping'er's calf, pulled out the lighter, placed it at the tip of the branch, and stared unblinkingly at the small flame, silently praying to countless Bodhisattvas for protection. The dry branch finally caught fire, and a hazy, yellowish halo spread through the darkness.

Although the branch ignited, I couldn't help but feel profoundly surprised. Had Heaven taken pity on us? Had we received divine assistance, for the wood to light so easily? Only when I looked closely at the supposed dry branch did I realize it was actually a piece of pine bark rolled into a tube. I had used these before. When walking at night as a child without a flashlight or kerosene lamp, this was exactly what I used to make a torch. While not exceptionally long-burning, it ignited very easily.

The appearance of this piece of pine bark made me breathe a sigh of relief. There was no mistake: its presence meant someone had definitely been here before. Judging by the bark's condition, this "before" couldn't have been too long ago. A thought suddenly struck me: perhaps Ji Ye and Man Niao Niao had brought the people of Yu Mu Village to search for the remains of Qin Ping'er and me? But I quickly dismissed the idea. If they were coming to look for us, they would certainly have followed our trail. How could they have come from ahead of us? If that were the case, it meant someone from Yu Mu Village knew about this subterranean heaven. But even so, why would the search party stop here and not proceed further? Did they really assume that I, Qin Ping'er, and Hua'er were all certain to be dead and gone without a trace?

My head spun trying to figure out who had abandoned that piece of pine bark here. I shook my head, deciding not to dwell on it, as it wasn't the priority. Our main goal now was to see that lovely, dear, and respectable sun again. I couldn't help but offer a wry smile—this experience was strikingly similar to our ordeal in Anle Cave!

Using the light from the torch, I first checked on Qin Ping'er to see if she was injured. Thankfully, although Qin Ping'er looked haggard, she didn't appear to be in pain. A quick inquiry confirmed this, easing half my worry. I then called Hua'er over; the creature seemed fine too, except its fur was still damp, making it look somewhat like Ban Li Qiu (a chestnut ball).

That pine bark torch didn't last long; half of it had burned away in just a few minutes. I quickly instructed Qin Ping'er to stay put while I took the torch and walked a few circles inside, luckily finding some more pine bark. I clutched the salvaged pieces to my chest as if they were treasure, rushed back to Qin Ping'er, handed her one lit torch, and held the rest close to my chest like an infant.

With two torches burning simultaneously, visibility in the space increased significantly.

Once the surroundings became clear, I was nearly infuriated—this supposed safe haven was indeed extremely safe, because it was nothing more than a relatively high and large section of a cavern. Even the path we had just carefully navigated along the rock wall was uniformly flat ground, though scattered with some loose stones or dirt clumps in places. To think we had walked as if on thin ice the whole way, wasting so much time!

That wretched creature, Hua'er! It made us suffer a false alarm! Damn it...