The array of things presented before us resembled a staircase descending endlessly, one after the next, luring us toward the bottomless abyss: the "ghost signals" emanating from the night forest, the wreckage of a USAF C-type transport plane caught in the tree canopy, and beneath it, the "Jade Coffin." Inside the coffin lay the corpse of an old man, and further down, the skinned carcass of the "Thug Python," from whose body sprouted red fleshy filaments that burrowed into the coffin floor. This floor, crafted from that peculiar "Lang Wood," was like a thick, yielding layer of tree sap, allowing the red filaments to pass through without a single drop of the fluid in the Jade Coffin seeping out.

Further below was the large cavity within the old banyan tree, filled with countless mummified remains of birds and beasts, and human bodies. Without exception, every one of these desiccated forms was entangled by the threadlike, fleshy red tendrils originating from the Jade Coffin. These serpentine red threads ultimately pierced the mouths of the animal and human corpses, as if by these tentacle-like conduits, they were siphoning the very lifeblood, transmitting it back to the Jade Coffin. This explained the abundance of fluid inside, a preservative formed through conversion, sustained by fresh blood to maintain the incorruptibility of the corpse within.

At the highest point within the tree hollow were the skeletal remains of a pilot, clad in a shearling-collared air force jacket. Though long reduced to bone, he still held the posture of his final moment. One skeletal hand reached out from beneath the Jade Coffin—the very hand bone we had previously seen clutching the "Double-Headed Clamp." He seemed to have been dragged into the tree hollow by those red filaments. In his last moments, he struggled, managing to grip the tree trunk beneath the Jade Coffin, but that was as far as he could go. As his hand emerged from the rotting wood, the blood-sucking red filaments had already infiltrated his mouth, nose, and ears.

All this made it starkly clear: this was a subordinate tomb to the "Tomb of the Xian King," interring a High Priest who served the King. He utilized "Thug Techniques" to skin a Thug Python and inter its carcass together with his own body in the Jade Coffin. The entire structure of these two ancient trees, overgrown with parasitic flora, constituted a relatively self-contained ecosystem, and many nearby animals had become "fertilizer" for this Jade Coffin.

This accidental discovery was immensely significant. Not only did it further confirm the possibility of the "Muchen Pearl" existing within the main "Tomb of the Xian King," but through this subsidiary tomb, we could directly ascertain the location of the principal tomb built within the "Water Dragon Halo."

The pair of ancient trees beneath "Zhelong Mountain," while not a formal Feng Shui nexus point, could be inferred to be situated at a "Rotten Bone Aperture" along the Water Dragon path where the Xian King was buried. A "Rotten Bone Aperture" is defined as a place where Yin fails to meet Yang, and Yang cannot reach Yin; the boundary is indistinct, the form vague, and the vital energy scattered, refusing to coalesce. The Yin energy refers to the exhalations beneath the aperture, and the Yang energy to the currents overflowing the surface. In the jungle, the humidity and heat are so intense that the distinction between above and below ground is negligible, hence "Indistinct Yin and Yang." It means the terrestrial energy currents accumulate nowhere, lack the interception of living water, and thus, burial here offers no blessing to future generations—it merely facilitates the decomposition of the corpse and bones, hence termed "Rotten Bone Burial" or "Corpse Rot Interment."

However, this method of using the tree as a grave altered the locale's structure, and with the "Thug Python" inside the coffin drawing sustenance from surrounding lifeforms, the corpse's state of non-decay was completely maintained. This suggested that this High Priest was also a master skilled in the arts of Yin and Yang during his lifetime; such an eerie method, completely defying convention, was not something an ordinary person could conceive.

If not for the USAF C-type transport plane smashing into the tree trunk and exposing the Jade Coffin, who would have ever suspected that the tree itself was a natural outer coffin containing another casket? This could only be attributed to fate, destined for us to stumble upon it.

Yet, one thing remained difficult to comprehend: if the Jade Coffin possessed the ability to slaughter nearby creatures, and these two ancient banyans had already accumulated countless vengeful spirits, why had we never been attacked?

Fatty, holding the deerskin pouch containing four or five ritual artifacts, was smug. "Old Hu, I think you’ve been scared witless by the enemy. Why worry about it? If it were up to me, I’d set this ghost tree on fire and wipe it clean—a scorched earth policy: burn it all, kill them all, loot it all."

Shirley Yang examined things more closely, hoping to find inscriptions or pictorial clues inside the Jade Coffin. Finally, she noticed the inside of the lid, set aside nearby. It was covered with markings of the sun, moon, stars, various animals, and strange symbols. After only a moment’s glance, Shirley Yang reacted immediately, asking us, "What's the lunar date today? Regardless of whether the Thug Python is a vengeful spirit, it is at least a latent fungus-like plant that has parasitized via the Lang Wood and the fleshy maggots, similar to a man-eating plant. It isn't active every moment. Like most animals in the forest, it sleeps at night and hunts during the day. The period around the fifteenth of every lunar month is when it's most active."

Fatty quickly calculated on his fingers. "First, fifteenth, fifteenth, twenty... I really can't remember what day it is today. But I remember the moon last night was frighteningly huge, perfectly round and red..."

At that moment, heavy leaden clouds gathered in the sky, but the thunder had ceased. The forest was utterly silent, as if only the breathing and heartbeats of the three of us remained. As soon as Fatty finished speaking, we all realized that the night before had been beautifully moonlit; even if today wasn't the fifteenth, it was likely the sixteenth.

Suddenly, Shirley Yang drew her "Paratrooper Knife" and shouted toward my back, "Watch out behind you!"

Before I could turn, I swung the climbing axe in my hand backward. Instantly, three red filaments that had already reached my body were severed by the tree trunk, splitting into six segments. Black-red ichor immediately oozed from the break points. The three shorter segments fell onto the canopy and withered instantly, while the three severed ends emerging from the tree hollow healed and coiled back toward us separately.

Following the momentum, I glanced down and saw countless red filaments slowly writhing over the entire trunk of the massive tree, having already cut off our retreat. I hadn't realized there were so many of the red parasitic growths that had spread from the Jade Coffin into the old tree. They moved like fine red water veins, suddenly erupting from the tree cavity. Shirley Yang and Fatty were both using their respective tools to hack at the countless writhing red growths.

But no matter how much we cut, the earthworm-like filaments seemed to multiply. For every one cut, three emerged, and those burrowing from the depths of the tree hollow were much thicker than the previous ones, twisting and writhing toward us like bloodied roundworms, nauseating enough to induce vomiting.

The space in the canopy was limited, leaving little room to maneuver. If one misplaced a foot, although the safety ropes ensured we wouldn't fall to our deaths, once suspended on the trunk, we would immediately be swarmed by these red Thug Python filaments, which would force their way into the body's seven orifices. That agonizing death would likely be comparable to being turned alive into a human cocoon.

Shirley Yang was now forced to the end of a relatively thin branch, which threatened to snap at any moment; she could only use her Paratrooper Knife to brace herself. Seeing her isolated and in danger, I wanted to move to her position, but I found it impossible to break free. On the other side, Fatty was also fully occupied defending himself. Anxious, I considered using the "Chicago Typewriter" to suppress the threat and relieve her, but I feared shooting the branches and causing her to fall. Helpless, I could only shout loudly to Fatty to go save her quickly.

Hearing our shouts from the other side, Shirley Yang glanced over amidst the chaos and yelled back, "I'm jumping down to get the Butane Injector bottle and burn this tree! When I start the fire, you two figure out how to climb down."

A shock went through me. A twenty-meter-high tree—how could she just jump? The safety rope only covered half the height; jumping the rest of the way meant certain broken limbs even if we didn't fall to our deaths. I quickly warned Shirley Yang, "Have you lost your mind? Jumping from this height is suicide! Don't do anything foolish. Don't just focus on showcasing American individual heroism; the collective strength is greatest. Hold on, we'll reach you!"

Fatty, however, fanned the flames, shouting to Shirley Yang, "Jump! When you land, you'll dissolve into the blue sky!"

Shirley Yang said no more, slicing through the safety rope attached to her waist with her Paratrooper Knife, and leaped from the tree. My eyes were transfixed, my heart seemingly plummeting with her from the twenty-meter height.

Fatty's mouth gaped open. "What? She actually dared to jump! Americans really play rough." As Shirley Yang fell, we saw her already holding the "Diamond Parachute" in hand, deploying it like a canopy, slowing her descent mid-air.

If not for the extraordinary toughness of that "Diamond Parachute," a regular umbrella would have been instantly twisted into a "morning glory" shape by the upward rush of air. Shirley Yang's desperate gamble had succeeded.

However, we were celebrating too soon. Just as Shirley Yang descended seven or eight meters, a thick vine suddenly shot out from the trunk of the ancient banyan. I saw clearly from the top that several red filaments were attached to this vine.

This vine immediately coiled around Shirley Yang, trapping her in mid-air. Faced with this sudden attack, Shirley Yang had no recourse but to use the armor-piercing spike atop her "Diamond Parachute" to stab the vine.

The potency of these red filaments growing from the Thug Python carcass lay in their sheer multitude, and their ability to survive even when cut into segments like massive earthworms—there was no viable point of attack. A few droplets of the viscous fluid had splashed onto my body; it smelled bitter and foul, but seemed non-toxic, or I would have already succumbed to poisoning.

The bitter, foul scent filled my nostrils. A sudden thought flashed through my mind: this dark red fluid might be the essence of the humans and animals that had died in the old banyan. Those red filaments acted like blood vessels. "Strike the snake at its vital point, capture the enemy by capturing the leader." Why not try to smash the Jade Coffin directly? Fighting on the tree canopy indefinitely was no solution; eventually, even a momentary lapse in guarding our hands would lead to capture. Today, risking our lives, we had to gamble.

I told Fatty to cover me for a moment, then raised my Thompson submachine gun and sprayed a continuous burst directly at the Jade Coffin within the tree. The high-powered American submachine gun immediately riddled the coffin, draining every last drop of blood within.

As the last of the blood flowed out of the Jade Coffin, the writhing Thug Python filaments seemed to lose their souls simultaneously, dropping down one by one, swiftly shriveling and drying up.

Shirley Yang landed safely on the ground, having held onto the old vine, so she was uninjured, though visibly pale from the fright. Fatty and I quickly climbed down. Once the three of us stabilized after the ordeal, we realized the surprise encounter, though seemingly swift, had felt both intense and prolonged.

Just as I was about to speak to Shirley Yang and Fatty, the entire ground suddenly began to shake violently. Both ancient banyans vibrated incessantly, their roots tearing free from the earth with constant snapping sounds. It was as if some massive creature beneath the ground was about to break through, lifting the entire two-thousand-year-old tree, roots and all. The thunder overhead intensified, and wisps of black smoke emerged from the fissures in the ground. Black torrents, black smoke, and earth fissures converged into a vortex centered on the old trees, encircling us entirely.