Having survived two life-and-death encounters and revealed our true selves, a sense of closeness settled among us, marked by awkward smiles, as if to say, "Oh, you aren't a celebrity after all."

Once the surrounding smoke and flames finally died down, we quickened our pace and charged toward the shrine grounds.

Truthfully, our greatest concern at that moment was no longer the fire and falling stones, but the enemy's scattered arrows.

Yet, it was clear the opposition hadn't anticipated that a mere handful of us could pass through such a purgatorial trial, for silence reigned above us.

We ran, passing through the torii gates, finally reaching the platform where the shrine stood, all of us breathless with exhaustion.

But this fatigue was instantly replaced by astonishment, for the royal complex before us could only be described as magnificent.

A gatehouse, towering over five meters high, connected to high vermillion walls rising over three meters on either side. The gatehouse was adorned with carved railings and painted beams, intricately decorated with exquisite birds and beasts.

The walls themselves were reinforced with glazed tiles, giving the entire structure a feel reminiscent of the Forbidden City.

At the very center of the entrance stood a pair of unadorned, matte black doors, plain yet appearing incredibly thick and heavy. Each door bore a suanni lion-head door knocker, forged from black iron, now tinged with rust.

Flanking the entrance were two human-height statues, both sculpted in the likeness of the Thunder Cloud Monk, though these were far more bizarre and terrifying than the previous ones we had seen.

The statues featured bird-like great beaks, their forked, eerie tongues lolling out, their eyes fixed forward with a fierce glare, poised for immediate action.

Looking beyond the perimeter walls, we saw pavilion beside pavilion, hall adjacent to hall—the sheer number of structures was dizzying.

The towering Japanese green bamboo between the buildings, untrimmed, had foliage so dense it looked like a cluster of green monsters, their unkempt heads poking out from within the walls to stare down at us.

Noticing the main gate appeared firmly shut, as if it hadn't been opened recently, I asked Da Xiong, "Where did the archers go? Did they go inside?"

Evidently, everyone else shared the same question, and all eyes turned to Xie Yuting, awaiting his directive.

Xie Yuting stroked his chin in thought, then said, "To be safe, we can't breach the main entrance. We'll climb the wall and get in. Remember, if you see anyone—anyone at all—take them down first. There was no order to bring anyone back alive."

The Leader, whose complexion was as dark as Louis Koo's, seemed energized by Xie Yuting's words. A slight smile touched his lips as he said, "I was waiting for you to say that. If they wanted to kill us, there's no need for mercy." With that, he licked the throwing knives on his hand.

Seeing his ruthless expression sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.

Leader Louis Koo produced a grappling hook from somewhere and, using his masterful dart-throwing skill, hurled it perfectly to hook onto the glazed tiles of the wall. He then led the ascent up the rope.

Fearing he might be in danger alone, the rest of us followed him up the rope.

Just after we scaled the wall, I saw Louis Koo rush headlong into a patch of bamboo, and the rest of us hurried after him.

As I jumped down from the wall, intending to follow, Xie Yuting pulled me back.

I looked at him quizzically, and he spoke to me, "Their mission is different from ours. I actually received reliable intelligence that the great yōkai who used to reside here planted many rare flowers and exotic herbs in the back garden. Among them is the Mizhi Xiang that produces the brain toxin, and also the flower of the Ban Ku Cao, the antidote. Look, this is what that medicinal herb looks like."

Saying this, he handed me a pencil sketch.

Unfolding it, I saw a drawing of a flowering herbaceous plant. Its leaves were large, arranged in three layers of seven leaflets, somewhat resembling those of Pachysandra terminalis. At the top grew a cluster of small flowers, about fifteen or sixteen, arranged in a quadrilateral pattern. Each small flower looked like a bellflower, and the whole plant appeared half-wilted and listless.

Receiving this, Da Xiong, Nie Chuan, and I became very excited and urged Xie Yuting to lead the way.

Xie Yuting, however, said, "The location of the back garden is easy to find; just keep heading deeper. However, finding this specific herb might take some effort, so I won't waste time accompanying you. I have a more important task."

With that, he turned to leave, but after taking two steps, he looked back at Nie Chuan and asked, "The whistle I gave you—where is it?"

Nie Chuan blinked in confusion and asked, "What whistle?"

Xie Yuting frowned. "The one the patrol team gave me, and I then gave to you."

Nie Chuan fumbled in his pocket, pulled out the whistle, and asked, "This one? What about it?"

Xie Yuting smiled faintly. "Blow it if you're in danger, and I will come to your aid immediately."

Looking at Xie Yuting's sincere smile, my heart suddenly warmed, but I also felt a strange dissonance. If he was such a loyal friend, why had he tried to harm us before? I couldn't reconcile it.

After Xie Yuting walked farther away, Nie Chuan gazed at the whistle in his hand, his expression thoughtful as well.

At that moment, Da Xiong grumbled, "We should have kept the whistle. I think he's the one who needs my help. He acts like he’s so mighty."

Knowing Da Xiong still held a strong dislike for Xie Yuting, I didn't say anything. I clapped my hands and announced, "Alright, now it's just the three of us left. Nie Chuan's squad needs to get moving."

Nie Chuan looked at me, then toward the depths of the courtyard obscured by bamboo, and said, "..., I'll have to trouble you this time. With both of you here, I feel much more at ease, so please don't get separated."

Looking into Nie Chuan's eyes, I suddenly wondered if 's spirit in heaven would be comforted to hear him say that.

The thought of * *** immediately reminded me of the moment we discovered his body, jolting me sharply back to reality.

Since we had confirmed that * * * * was electrocuted to death, the killer must have been an expert at handling electricity, something those 'Thunder Corpses' could never manage.

This meant that the owner of this shrine, the Thunder Cloud Monk, was highly likely to be the true murderer who killed * * * *.

I secretly swore an oath: once we found the herb, I would certainly confront that Thunder Cloud Monk. If he was indeed still here, I would risk my life to avenge * * * *.

With these thoughts churning, the three of us set off deeper into the shrine grounds.

As we walked and observed, I grew increasingly astonished by the sheer scale and grandeur of the shrine.

The eight-sided, ten-story wooden towers were tall and majestic, their carved railings and painted beams exquisitely detailed.

The rockeries and winding paths were immaculate, and the periodically appearing bamboo screens retained vibrant colors despite centuries passing, showcasing exceptional craftsmanship.

Everywhere there were cultivated stands of bamboo and famous trees, punctuated by small ponds and wooden pavilions—features typically reserved for imperial palaces.

Looking at the ornamentation on the buildings, dragons and phoenixes were the dominant motifs; the lowest figures were Qilins and Suanni. Everything radiated power and magnificence.

Had Xie Yuting not told me otherwise, I would truly have believed this was an ancient secondary residence belonging to the Emperor.

But then I considered that three hundred years ago, the Japanese seas were incredibly turbulent, fraught with war and famine. Perhaps even the Emperor or wealthy daimyō couldn't afford palaces of this caliber. So, what kind of person, or what kind of great yōkai, was this Thunder Cloud Monk? I truly couldn't fathom it.

Because most ancient Japanese architecture imitated the style of China's Tang Dynasty, this shrine was no exception.

The entire complex was organized along a central axis. The main avenue leading directly to the gate was exceptionally wide, capable of accommodating eight horses galloping side-by-side.

On either side of the avenue stood similarly styled pavilions and temples: side chambers nestled among green bamboo, halls for offering incense and prayers, and of course, the classic staples of temple architecture—the Bell Tower and the Drum Tower.

Although we hadn't entered through the main gate, we found no ambushes waiting behind it, so we fearlessly stepped onto the main avenue and proceeded inward.

Along the way, we encountered one of Xie Yuting's search parties ransacking a building, throwing books and antiques down from the upper floors, stirring up clouds of dust.

Da Xiong looked at the bronze lamps and porcelain vases, his fingers itching again, wanting to take a few.

But I cautioned him, saying that Japanese antiques had little resale value in China, and being only three centuries old, they weren't worth much.

Only then did Da Xiong back off, declaring righteously, "I don't care for the worthless junk of the little Japanese!"

Nie Chuan and I laughed at this, flattering him as a model patriotic youth.

Da Xiong insisted we list the "Four Goods" he possessed. Cornered, we conceded and listed them as: good at sleeping, good appetite, loud voice, and frugal.

He denied the first three one by one, but he readily accepted being frugal.

However, I couldn't hold back and blurted out, "No matter how many dishes you order at every meal, you always say it's not enough, and then you lick the plate clean. That’s certainly being very frugal!"