I told him, "Don't touch anything randomly. What if turning it instantly riddles you with holes like a honeycomb?"

Hearing my words, Daxiong quickly froze his hand.

I examined the thing, which resembled a ship's wheel, closely, and noticed that it was connected to a leather belt underneath. This belt disappeared into the ground through a small hole in the floor tiles, presumably operating some mechanism below.

I hesitated, wondering whether to pry open the floorboards to see the structure beneath.

Nie Chuan, standing nearby, remarked, "I doubt these rotating wheels are meant to activate the mechanism, because the trigger method is too obvious. Traps designed to harm people are usually more subtle."

Hearing him, I agreed it made sense. I told the other two to find cover, and then began to spin the wheel myself.

I must admit, the wheel required immense force to turn. I had to grit my teeth and exert every bit of strength just to make it click into motion.

The instant the mechanical sound echoed, I immediately dropped low, fearing any projectile arrows might shoot down from above.

However, after waiting a few seconds, nothing happened overhead, while the mechanical grinding continued with a kaka-ka sound.

Glancing around, I finally realized that the pattern within the mirror was changing.

The dragon depicted in the mirror seemed to come alive, soaring through clouds and mist. Every muscle, every scale appeared vividly real, giving the distinct impression of watching a dragon truly take flight.

Staring at the scene before me, I was momentarily stunned, unable to process what was happening.

At that moment, Nie Chuan and Daxiong came closer again. Nie Chuan exclaimed, "So the back of the mirror is actually filled with flowing sand paintings!"

As he pointed it out, I noticed as well. This was a unique ancient technique of sand art, using iron sand of different colors placed on a metal plate. The mechanism below, by shifting the position of magnets, could create various changing patterns.

This type of display was usually reserved for the entertainment of the upper classes, leading me to wonder if this was purely an elaborate form of amusement.

After studying it for a long time, none of us could arrive at any definite conclusion.

However, Nie Chuan did spot a distinct anomaly. He pointed to the ceiling above us and said, "Look, those two holes up there don't seem empty; they look like crystal too."

I looked up and saw that indeed, the reflections of the light and shadow below were visible in those two circular voids.

What was the purpose of this? I truly couldn't fathom the use of this entire series of mechanisms.

"Forget it, we don't have time to analyze this now. Once we reach the next floor and examine that crystal surface again, perhaps we’ll naturally understand its function," Nie Chuan said to me.

I nodded and stood up.

Next, of course, we had to investigate the rooms distributed around the main hall.

Our flashlights were long dead, so we proceeded toward the nearest room using the cold flame of our fire-sticks.

The door to the room was ajar. Even before entering, we spotted the pattern on the door: a skull split in two by a lightning bolt.

This was the exact emblem on the vests of the White-Haired Old Man's subordinates. We hadn't understood its meaning before, but now it was clear: this must be the representative symbol of the Thunder Cloud Monk.

Thinking of the Thunder Cloud Monk, my mind drifted to the ice-cold beauty we encountered earlier. If she was here looking for the Monk, I wondered if she would head to the temple we had already visited after leaving this place.

If they entered the temple, were they meant to be the punished, or were they enforcers who originated from the temple itself?

The more I considered it, the more the latter possibility seemed likely. If the temple was a place of punishment for them, the Thunder Cloud Monk would have no reason to flee there.

Recalling that Xiao Ge might have defeated the Thunder Cloud Monk, I desperately wished to witness how potent Xiao Ge's Nian truly was.

But that was now impossible, as I only gained my own abilities after separating from him.

Lost in thought, the three of us had already filed into the room one after another.

The room was a wreck. A table was overturned, the two potted plants near the window were shattered with dirt strewn across the floor, and the room was littered with discarded white paper. The wastepaper basket had been stomped flat by someone.

Opposite us on the wall was a glass window, its panes all broken, revealing the scene of the sun setting in the distance.

Daxiong leaned close and asked me, "Have you noticed anything strange about this room?"

I scanned the area but didn't immediately spot anything odd. However, one thing had struck me since we entered, so I asked Daxiong, "When you say strange, are you referring to the fact that this room has entirely modern interior decor? It doesn't look like a place ancient people would inhabit."

Daxiong nodded. "Exactly. Don't you find that odd? It suggests someone has been living here within the last few decades."

I shook my head. "That’s not strange. Since the Thunder Cloud Monk still resides here, he wouldn't adhere strictly to ancient traditions like an old fossil. Having some modern renovations is quite normal."

Nie Chuan interjected then, "Haven't you noticed that there are actually quite a few modern items here? I suspect they must have access to aircraft; otherwise, construction materials like these couldn't possibly be transported to this deep mountain area by vehicle."

I agreed. "Maybe this eighth-floor attic is actually a retractable roof hangar. We might even be able to leave from here later."

Having voiced my speculation, we began searching the area independently.

There was no sign of Jie Yuting and his group in this room, but the documents scattered on the floor were quite noticeable.

I casually picked one up and saw it was just plain white paper.

We soon discovered that most of the paper here was blank; only a few sheets bore strange symbols drawn in black pencil—like an incomplete five-pointed star, or two overlapping triangles. This led me to suspect if a primary school math teacher had once lived here?"

After examining these useless papers, we moved to the desk by the bed.

The desk was a style from the 1980s, featuring an equally old-fashioned black wooden pen stand, though it held no pens.

Next to the stand was an antique printer—a typewriter with those circular metal keys.

Besides these two items, there was a messy pile of Japanese books, mostly classical literature, along with a few Chinese translations of Lu Xun's essays.

These books were easily available on the market and held no particular value for us.

In addition to these three categories of items, there was a stack of white paper on the desk, topped with a fountain pen.

I flipped through the papers; they were slightly yellowed, and I could smell a musty odor when I brought them close to my nose.

Apart from these, the desk had two drawers and two vertical cabinets, all of which required keys.

I searched the surroundings but found no keys, so we used our knives to pry open the drawers and cabinets for inspection.

The result was that we found nothing inside, save for an old, unusable camera and some miscellaneous old books.

After investigating everything, the three of us stared at each other blankly.

"Let's go, to the next room. It seems there's nothing useful here," Nie Chuan said, hands on his hips.

I nodded. Being sensitive to mildew, I let out a sneeze.

My sneeze was innocuous enough, but immediately after I finished, we all clearly heard another sneeze echoing from a different corner of the room—though this one was much softer than mine.

The three of us froze simultaneously and looked toward that area.

But in the dim light of the fire-sticks, we saw nothing. That corner contained only a single, nearly withered potted plant.

Having witnessed countless bizarre phenomena, we were certainly unwilling to believe that nothing was there. Even a dying plant could conceal some snake spirit or ghost.

Daxiong then asked me, "Can you see anything? Is there any Nian?"

I shook my head. "Nothing at all. I can't sense any living aura."

Just as I finished speaking, the leaves of that nearly dead potted plant suddenly moved, as if something had just brushed past it.

Simultaneously, a flash of ghostly blue Nian darted across my vision, vanishing immediately before I could get a clear look.