The others’ feelings toward Zhou Huan were understandable; there was nothing to be done but let him have his way.

Zhou Huan strode toward the broken courtyard. The main residence was built with astonishing grandeur; for such a place to possess a courtyard like this was frankly incredible.

“Master, what magnificence! What is this place?” Tian Xiong felt an overwhelming sense of curiosity and surprise. To find such a spot deep in these mountains would astonish anyone.

Tian Lang, however, remained remarkably composed. Why he was calm was a mystery no one could fathom, yet Zhou Huan felt an inexplicable sense of looking at Tian Lang in a new light.

The group marched toward the courtyard. As they reached the entrance, two exquisitely carved wooden plaques bearing couplets hung on either side of the gate. Though the paint on the calligraphy was faded, the words inscribed were still legible.

“When the wind rises in the falling rain, how much sorrow remains in the mortal world? Where the soul breaks at the Bridge of Helplessness, how many ages of anguish in the underworld? Humans and ghosts walk together!” Shi Bingyuan read the couplet and the horizontal scroll by the gate. What this truly meant, any person with a grasp of poetry and literature would likely understand the hidden depths.

The casual air vanished from Zhou Huan’s face. He knew this place must be steeped in stories, and ghost stories were surely part of it. How to approach this mystery—only by stepping inside could they find out.

“I’m committed now. If you don't enter the tiger's den, how can you catch the cub? I’ve even eaten tiger meat; I’m not afraid to charge into this ghost residence. Is anyone willing to come in with me?” Zhou Huan spoke, turning to look at the people beside him. His intention was for the two girls to stay far back, preferably with two others escorting them, but the result was deeply disappointing.

“Master, don't worry, we are all willing to go with you,” Tian Xiong said, glancing back at Tian Lang. “Uncle Tian Lang, do you feel the same way?”

“Of course. Since it is a tiger’s den, how can I, Jiang Tian Lang, not accompany my brother inside to face the challenge?”

Seeing that only the two girls had not spoken up about going or staying, Zhou Huan sighed and beckoned them. “You two come in as well. I’d be even less at ease if you waited outside.”

Zhou Huan took the lead, rubbing his face with both hands to ease the tension and pressure gripping him. He stepped forward, ready to push the door open, but the moment his hand brushed against the bronze ring on the gate, an overwhelming sensation of desolation struck him—like an icy spring water entering through his mouth and sinking straight into his belly. The feeling carried a profound sorrow, making him want to weep uncontrollably.

Zhou Huan snatched his hand back abruptly, looking with a sorrowful expression at the two great doors. The rotting wood, battered by wind and rain, looked as if it would collapse at the slightest touch. The handles were already covered in green rust.

“Master, what’s wrong? You look like you’re about to cry!” Shi Bingyuan noticed Zhou Huan’s distress.

Zhou Huan shook his head. “It’s nothing. Let’s go in.” When he touched the door again, the feeling pierced his core once more. Forcing himself to suppress it, Zhou Huan pushed hard. With a drawn-out creak-creak, the two doors instantly crashed inward, shattering as they fell.

A thick cloud of dust billowed up, and the group quickly fanned the air. Looking into the vast courtyard, they were utterly stunned. The immense yard occupied nearly half the hillside; it was truly beyond comparison. It was like a palace in the great mountains: a stone bridge carved directly across the way, the ground paved with finely ground flagstones, and a clear lake where the bright moon above cast shimmering reflections. A row of large willow trees stretched all the way to the small stone bridge at the center of the courtyard.

“Good heavens, this must be where the Emperor lives; this is too extravagant!” Dong Zi couldn't help expressing his awe.

Zhou Huan waved his hand. “Let’s go in, we’ll look as we walk. Everyone be careful. Who knows how many nameless ghosts are still lurking in here!” With that, Zhou Huan led the party deeper into the courtyard.

After walking for an unknown time, they finally reached the end of the willow grove, right beside the small bridge. Looking at the water beneath the bridge, they all had the unsettling feeling that someone was watching them from the depths. In a sudden flash, the group seemed to share an unspoken thought, turning quickly and nervously to look around. After a few glances, they all froze in shock. What was happening? Were there really people here, or were there truly ghosts?

“Master, here...?”

“Don’t be afraid. Whether it’s men or ghosts, we have done nothing wrong, so why should we fear them? Let’s just find a place to rest, sleep well, and cross this mountain first thing tomorrow morning.” Zhou Huan spoke this way intentionally. Though some spirits could perceive human thoughts, others could not, so this was a delaying tactic. In truth, he felt something in the water—definitely not human. He was also certain it was a ghost.

The reason Zhou Huan said this was to make the spirit let down its guard. If it was a benign spirit, or one seeking only revenge, it surely wouldn't bother them. If it was a mad ghost, one eager for trouble, it would attack regardless of Zhou Huan’s kind words. Thus, Zhou Huan’s words were meant to create doubt and hesitation in the spirit, leaving it unsure of Zhou Huan’s true purpose.

Zhou Huan exchanged a look with Shi Bingyuan, who understood immediately. However, Dong Zi caught the exchange and only grasped Zhou Huan’s meaning after a long moment: they were to proceed together, find a spot, and sleep.

“Everyone pay attention. Sleep time will be extended tonight, but there’s one rule: nobody sleeps separately. We must all sleep together—this is to prevent our vital energy from thinning!”

“Understood, brother. Don’t you worry. We’ll hold out for another day or two, and then we’ll find a proper place to stay in the capital,” Tian Lang was smoother in his response. As for what might happen tonight, or what Zhou Huan truly meant, he didn't grasp it, or perhaps he did and simply chose not to worry, knowing he lacked the skill to handle matters between the living and the dead as well as Zhou Huan, whose innate shrewdness was evident.

Past the stone bridge, around a corner, lay the side rooms of the main residence. The central structure was the main hall, containing a receiving area and bedrooms behind it—a very good layout indeed. Furthermore, these buildings were constructed entirely of wood, making them sturdier and more durable than one might generally imagine.

Just as the group crossed the stone bridge, they heard a turbulent churning from the water behind them, as if the water were boiling, bubbling intensely. Suddenly, a burst of heat rose from the water, but they could see no trace of a ghost. Zhou Huan hadn't dared to use his Ghost Eye since the last time, knowing he couldn't control its activation and deactivation at will. So this time, he refrained.

Afterward, Zhou Huan resorted to a cautious approach: “Let’s just keep moving forward. There are probably no ghosts around; if we can’t see them, they aren't there.”

Zhou Huan understood perfectly: it was a ghost. The previous sighting of the Blood Soul had been intentional on the ghost's part. Now that they couldn't see it, experience told Zhou Huan the entity had emerged from the water, but exactly where, Zhou Huan and the others had no idea.

Though inwardly shaken, the others obeyed Zhou Huan and headed toward the main hall. The sound of bubbling water ceased, but suddenly, a new noise erupted—footsteps, and it sounded like many people.

“Don’t look back! Whoever they are, we just keep going. The main hall ahead is our destination,” Zhou Huan suspected it might be the Blood Soul again. Fearing the others might panic, he cautioned them again. Unexpectedly, the others remained calm, but the sound of the footsteps behind them grew louder, stopping abruptly only when they seemed to catch up to the rear of Zhou Huan’s group.

“You people up front, listen to me! I am the master of this place. Who allowed you to casually enter this courtyard? Don't you know this is a key protected cultural relic of the mountain stronghold?” The voice was incredibly rough, and as the words were spoken, a blade was pointed at Zhou Huan’s lower back.