We walked for so long—so long, in fact, that I almost suspected we were merely traversing level ground—when I finally glimpsed a sheer, steep wall abruptly rising before us. Beneath it, the vague shape of a ruined bird’s nest could be discerned. Only upon drawing closer did I realize what I had taken for a nest was merely a haphazard jumble of branches, looking more like a crude shack.

Seeing this flimsy, unstable structure swaying in the wind, I was suddenly reminded of the legends surrounding the Suoluo Divine Tree, and I couldn't help but wonder: could this shack have been the sanctuary of our ancestors millennia ago? But why would this shack still exist after such an immense passage of time? Moreover, as far as I knew, no one had ever discovered this place; not a whisper of it had ever reached the outside world. Then, where exactly on Earth was this Suoluo Divine Tree, this "Nanliu City"? The relentless travel of the previous night, coupled with a string of bizarre and inexplicable events, had thoroughly disoriented me; I hadn't even paid attention to which direction the sun had risen from.

Lost in my thoughts, Jiye, Qin Ping'er, and Hua'er ahead of me vanished again. I hurried to the supposed wall and reached out to touch it, only to discover it wasn't a wall at all, but an impossibly thick tree trunk. The smallest strips of bark peeled away from it were taller and wider than a man’s body.

Still, I saw no leaves. According to descriptions, the Suoluo Divine Tree was also called the Seven-Leaf Tree. Now, forget seven leaves; I couldn't see even one, suggesting its vitality was indeed severely threatened. Compared to the vibrant life pulsating in other trees during summer, this one seemed truly on the verge of its final moments.

Qin Ping'er’s voice drifted from the other side of the trunk. “Ying, hurry over!”

I looked toward the sound. Though my vision wasn't perfectly clear, I managed to make out that Jiye and Qin Ping'er had rounded the edge where the massive branch met the trunk, crossed to the other side, and ascended onto another branch. This new branch formed roughly a forty-five-degree angle with the one I was currently standing on. Due to the immense size, the two branches inadvertently created a narrow pathway along the main trunk. Seeing the situation, I carefully navigated this perilous path to reach the next limb. As I traversed this strange walkway, below me was nothing but ethereal, milky-white mist that seemed bottomless, and gusts of cold air rose from the depths, quickly chilling my sweat into a cold, clammy film.

Fortunately, I dared not look down closely, and with Qin Ping'er pulling me from the other side, I managed to catch up with Jiye and Qin Ping'er, escaping the ordeal unscathed. Jiye, seeing I had arrived, said nothing more, but simply pulled Qin Ping'er and moved onward. This time, the direction was the opposite of our approach: we had moved from the end of a branch toward the trunk earlier, but now we were following another branch leading away from the trunk.

I was slightly bewildered. What was Jiye up to? To move with such vigor with his old bones—where did he get such stamina? Had he learned some spell from the old man Xiang as a Tujia Tima and undergone a genetic mutation? Before I could ask, he was already pulling Qin Ping’er rapidly along the sloping, upward-climbing branch.

I paused for a brief moment and then had an epiphany. With a trunk this vast, and without wings or even suitable tools, how could we climb directly to the crown? We could only approach the summit circuitously, by traversing one branch after another, ascending gradually. However, a question still nagged at me: where did the end of this branch lead? Logically, the higher up the branch, the thinner it must become. Could we transition to another branch from there?

Not far along, I noticed what seemed to be a short, thick branch broken off in a V-shape, suspended between two smaller limbs in the misty gloom to my right. Although those branches looked sturdy enough to bear our combined weight, they grew progressively thinner ahead. Jiye ignored them, likely concluding those branches wouldn't lead to the larger, higher limbs.

After walking a bit further, the branch elevated us considerably. Casually glancing back, I was startled to see that the V-shaped branch was hollowed out inside, resembling a trough carved into the wood. Instantly, I understood: that short, thick V-shaped trunk segment must certainly be an abandoned hanging coffin.

This sight of the derelict hanging coffin suddenly conjured the scene from the mural in Tenglong Cave, and an idea involuntarily surfaced: could the end of the branch beneath my feet lead to a grotto on the cliff face? The mural in Tenglong Cave depicted a scene where many people carried coffins along massive boughs into caverns hidden in cliffs, placing the caskets inside the caves or on jutting rocks. Thinking this way, the terminus of the branch beneath me was very likely a grotto or a rock ledge intended to house a hanging coffin.

With this thought, I quickened my pace. Though I knew such a branch grew high in the air, surrounded by swirling clouds and mist, I rarely worried about falling. The branch was simply too enormous, far wider than the suspension bridges commonly seen spanning rivers in Xi'du. Nor did I fear slipping; while the surface was damp, the rough bark provided ample friction. As long as I didn't deliberately edge toward the side to look down, falling was unlikely.

Because the branch only inclined upward at a shallow angle, I moved swiftly, but Jiye, pulling Qin Ping'er, moved even faster. As for Hua'er, that scamp had long dashed ahead of us; who knew where he was now. A strange feeling settled over me. What exactly was Jiye playing at? He claimed time was pressing, yet if we were to advance together, why was he clinging to Qin Ping'er’s hand so tightly, as if afraid she might run off? Strange!

I counted my steps as I walked, and the branch slowly narrowed. It was still wide enough for a few people to pass in single file, but as we proceeded, the psychological pressure mounted.

When I estimated I had covered about two hundred meters, Jiye and Qin Ping’er ahead of me slowed down. I hastened my steps and was horrified to see the branch had broken off. The severed end of the branch terminated at a rather dark stone cave. The break surface appeared to have been severed by some tool; the cut wasn't clean, but it clearly lacked the ragged, splintered look characteristic of natural breaks caused by wind or external forces.

There was about a meter of space between the severed edge of the branch and the rim of the stone cave—a gulf that seemed bottomless. Jiye paused briefly, leaned back to whisper something to Qin Ping’er, then took two steps back before launching himself forward with a mighty leap. Simultaneously, Qin Ping’er sprang up, and the two of them vaulted straight into the stone cave.

That short distance was no obstacle for me, robust and young. I gauged the distance, took a running leap, and sailed toward the cave. Jiye and Qin Ping’er had left me space after entering, so I slipped into the cave without issue or misstep.

I was thoroughly vexed throughout this journey because I desperately wanted to question Jiye about the cryptic remarks he had made. But Jiye simply dragged Qin Ping’er along, walking in silence, never giving me an opening. Now that we had reached a cave, surely Jiye would stop to rest; this was my chance to ask him everything.

To my frustration, the moment Jiye saw me open my mouth, he twisted his head, yanked Qin Ping’er along, and plunged deeper into the cave.

Even more dejected, I could only let out a faint sigh and follow their footsteps into the darkness. At this point, I was utterly helpless, knowing neither north nor south, trailing Jiye like a puppet.

Entering this cliffside grotto, I found it wasn't very large, its shape resembling the stone caves we had seen at the Hanging Coffin Cliff. Not far inside, I was chilled to find a severely decayed coffin actually placed within the tree-cavity. I intensely wanted to examine the remains inside, but recalling the ferryman’s warning about poisonous snakes in these hanging coffin caves, and despite my prior encounter with a giant python, the instinctive fear of venomous reptiles hadn't vanished. Furthermore, Jiye and Qin Ping’er were already moving past the coffin to continue forward. Thus, I gave the coffin only a hasty glance before following them like a shadow.

I expected the stone cave to be deep, but that was not the case at all. After circumventing the coffin, Jiye and Qin Ping’er actually turned a corner and exited from the other side of the cave. When I squeezed out of the opposite exit, I looked back and saw a dilapidated wooden barricade blocking that way out—we had squeezed through a broken gap in the fence.

I should have been brimming with curiosity about this hanging coffin cave I had just encountered up close, yet the old rogue Jiye was utterly indifferent to the mystery of the hanging coffin. He relentlessly pulled Qin Ping’er onto yet another tree branch and headed back toward the trunk.

I was boiling inside. Jiye was leading us through a labyrinth. Seeing how smoothly and familiarly he moved, I wondered: had Jiye been to the treetop before? If so, the time he swung his Sidao, emitting a red light to dispel the buzzing black clouds above my head, must have been specifically to meet up with me and Qin Ping’er.

Suddenly, I remembered that Man Niao Niao's whereabouts were still unknown. If Jiye was leading us toward the top of the Suoluo Tree as he claimed, what if Man Niao Niao couldn't find this path? Alarm shot through me. There was no justification for abandoning a companion! I abruptly stopped and yelled at Jiye’s retreating back, "Stop!"

Jiye’s steps only paused momentarily. Without turning his head, he called back while walking, "What is it?" His tone sounded extremely impatient.

"Niao Niao doesn't know we're here yet. Why don't we wait for him, or I can go down and look for him!"

Jiye snorted heavily, offering no reply, and quickened his pace, still gripping Qin Ping’er tightly. Seeing Jiye completely ignore me ignited a fire of frustration within me. "Fine, you two go ahead. I'll go down and find Man Niao Niao!" With that, I turned to leave.

One sentence from Jiye pinned me to the spot: "Man Niao Niao already climbed to the top of the tree. Why would you need to look for him?"

Man Niao Niao reached the treetop? Did he find the Suoluo Tree last night? Damn it, that didn't make sense. If he found the Suoluo Divine Tree, he should have gone back to notify me and Qin Ping’er, no matter what. Why would he climb this Suoluo Tree alone? Was he trying to spare me and Qin Ping’er suffering by taking on the task by himself?

That wretched companion—I swear I’ll rip out his gonads and use them as stepping stones later.

Since Man Niao Niao was already ahead of us, I picked up my pace and continued forward. I spent the whole walk pressing Jiye for answers: how did Man Niao Niao find this Suoluo Divine Tree? How did you meet up? What was he doing climbing alone? Unfortunately, Jiye remained tight-lipped, not even deigning to answer Qin Ping’er’s curious questions.

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