My leg was seized by something unseen, held fast with no chance of escape. Before I could even warn the fat man and Shirley Yang ahead of me, my body plunged rapidly beneath the water. The only light source I had was the tactical spotlight on my climbing helmet. Once submerged in the dark, cold water, the illumination range immediately plummeted to near zero. The beam could only pierce about a meter ahead. In this pitch-black subterranean water, this tiny visible range of less than 1.5 meters was practically equivalent to blindness.

In a panic, I quickly held my breath and looked down. A monstrous infant, a grotesque hybrid of insect and human, had clamped its four-lobed mouth onto my canteen pouch. Military canteens are wrapped in sturdy, thick green canvas covers. Its 'mouth'—or rather, its mouth-parts—were lined with backward-curving fleshy barbs; once it latched onto something, it was difficult to let go. At this moment, the infant was desperately pulling on my thigh with its two forelimbs, trying to wrench its 'mouth-parts' free from the canteen pouch.

In the dim underwater light, the Zhong Ying's face was even more hideous, covered in wrinkles. Its tough skin bore no resemblance to a newborn's; it looked like an old, ugly, soft-bodied reptile. Seeing it up close on the bottom instantly filled me with disgust. Thankfully, it had bitten the canteen while I was swimming; if it had clamped onto my rear, I’d have been done for.

The Zhong Ying possessed immense strength. Even before leaving its mother, it could propel the 'dead drift' rapidly within the egg. Being dragged steadily towards the bottom was a disastrous situation. I desperately wanted to break free from this fierce monster. My entrenching tool, ice axe, and other handy gear were all stored in my inflatable backpack. I had no choice but to reach down to my leg and pull out my Russian paratrooper knife.

A wave of murderous intent rose in me—I wanted to slice off the four-lobed mouth-parts clamped onto the canteen. But I suddenly realized that slicing it might release toxic blood, putting me in danger of poisoning as well. Cutting the strap holding the canteen would be safer.

I jammed the Russian paratrooper knife against the strap connecting to the military canteen and used the hook groove on the inside of the blade to scrape outward forcefully. The canteen strap snapped. The Zhong Ying's 'mouth-parts' were still stuck to the canteen, unable to release. My chest felt ready to burst, my heart hammering wildly. I was desperate to surface for air, unwilling to struggle with it any longer. I planted my free foot downward and kicked the infant's head, shoving it away, then used the leverage to swim rapidly towards the surface.

As I ascended, I saw several 'dead drifts' floating nearby, but their shells, which usually emitted a faint, cold light, were gone. It seemed the eggs inside had all detached from the mother body. Suddenly, I noticed white blurs flashing to my left and right—two more monstrous infants, shaped like large white fish, lunging at me from the bottom. Their movements in the water were fluid and agile, matching that of swimming fish.

I could only cry out internally, ‘My luck is cursed!’ before I was enveloped between them. Their mouths split open into four large sections on either side, revealing clusters of pink, backward-pointing spines. This was a fight for my life. Even if they didn't bite me to death, my breath was nearly gone; any delay would result in drowning.

I didn't think—in fact, I had no room to think. Seeing the infant on my left attack first, its four dark, gaping mouths lunging, I could only shrug my shoulder to avoid its monstrous bite. Immediately, my left hand reached over the top and clamped onto its neck from behind.

The Zhong Ying on the other side also lunged simultaneously. I quickly used my left hand to guide the one whose neck I held, using its own forward momentum to swing it diagonally into the one approaching from my right. The two infants, with their combined eight rows of spiny mouths, locked together, unable to separate, struggling as they sank back into the depths.

Having narrowly escaped death, I immediately kicked my legs and burst out of the water, greedily gulping the hot, stagnant air of the 'Gourd Cave.' My brain recovered from the semi-asphyxiated fog.

I looked around. The water surface was eerily still and black. Fatty and the other one were nowhere in sight. The echo of the detonator explosion still resonated in the cave, and the scent of smoke hadn't quite dissipated. I stripped off my heavy gear, spread my arms, and adopted a freestyle stroke, swimming with all my might toward the light source at the 'Gourd Mouth.'

The current grew stronger the farther I swam. I was being swept forward involuntarily, even without exerting much effort. The tilted Gourd Cave was draining its underground water into the deep valley outside. As the light from the cave entrance began to sting my eyes, the infants' heart-wrenching cries suddenly echoed behind me. The monsters, temporarily scared off by the blast, were catching up. These creatures could move rapidly even on stone walls; in water, they were impossibly fast. My heart sank. Even if I got out of the Gourd Cave, I doubted I could handle these freaks.

But worrying was useless. I tried to console myself: hadn't the PLA worn down the enemy during their retreat to earn the final counteroffensive? I gritted my teeth and kept swimming. Looking up at the cave mouth, I saw a figure flash by, tossing down a rope. Due to the backlighting, I couldn't make out the person's face, but the build suggested Shirley Yang. The current at the Gourd Mouth was too fierce; I grabbed the rope, preventing the water from sweeping me downstream. Outside the cave, the roar of the water and the glare of the sun made my eyes water, and I couldn't clearly see where I was. I just clung to an old vine dangling near the cave entrance and hauled myself out of the water.

Suspended in mid-air, surrounded by hanging vines and creepers, Shirley Yang asked, "We noticed you were missing right after we got out of the cave. We were about to go back for you. How did you get separated?"

I waved a hand. "It's a long story; I'll explain later. Where's Fatty?" I rubbed my eyes hard, adjusting to the outside light. Looking down made my head spin. I realized I was perched on the edge of the 'Gourd Mouth,' which was actually the periphery of a massive complex of waterfalls. In this basin where three rivers met amidst towering peaks, all the water systems rushing from the Insect Valley transformed into large and small waterfalls, plunging into the vast pool below. The largest one was nearly twenty meters wide and dropped over forty meters, its torrent splashing everywhere, its sound shaking the green valley.

This large pool was unfathomably deep, nearly eight hundred meters in diameter. Except for the side with the waterfalls, it was entirely covered in thick, ropy vines and plants—a sea of green that made the deep, jade-colored pool below seem even more bottomless. The cave entrance we exited was on a smaller waterfall, situated on the outermost edge of the cascade cluster. Countless vines grew around, otherwise, as soon as we emerged, the powerful rush of water would have smashed us into the deep pool. Fatty and the large backpack containing all our gear were hanging onto old vines below. Those vines swayed precariously, and I doubted they could bear the weight.

We were easily thirty meters above the deep pool below. Fatty, plagued by vertigo, had simply shut his eyes, too scared to even look. Shirley Yang had already hammered a piton into a rock crevice and lowered a rope, which dangled near Fatty. Fatty, eyes still closed, found the rope and clipped it into the safety harness around his waist.

I assessed the old vines—tough and resilient—and noted that the climbing rope was securing Fatty as a backup. It seemed okay for the moment. My main concern was the monsters pursuing us; encountering them on this sheer cliff would be even more dangerous. We had to decide immediately whether to climb up or descend. Climbing up would take us back toward the end of the Insect Valley. Descending led to the deep pool, but given Fatty’s current state, he definitely couldn't climb up. Descent was the only option.

I calmed myself and took in the surroundings. Better not to look, but once I did, I was stunned into silence. The massive volume of water from the waterfalls created an endless mist. Because the terrain was so low, the mist lingered, catching the sunlight to form a spectrum of iridescent rainbows. Countless rainbows supported a dazzling, magnificent palace in mid-air. It had all the features: main halls, divine walls, memorial pavilions, corner towers, offering halls, and spirit platforms—a structure entirely in the style of the Great Qin Dynasty. Jade towers and carved pavilions stood proud, built with massive Qin bricks and Han tiles, shimmering within the rainbow mist, appearing like a celestial palace conjured from illusion.

I was awestruck by the sublime mystery of this city in the sky. Shirley Yang had seen it as soon as she exited the Gourd Cave and tugged my arm. "That's the Tomb of the Xian King, but look closely; it's not actually airborne."

I stilled my shaking heart and stared intently, finally discerning that this celestial palace was not floating freely in the air. It was a massive, complete Xieshan style structure, built onto the vertical face of the cliff with engineering skill beyond imagination, much like the famous Hanging Temple. Because the surrounding cliff faces were covered in green vegetation, the colors of the palace stood out vividly. The halls and towers jutted out, further enhanced by the kaleidoscopic colors from the rainbow mist below. This created a unique optical effect, giving one the dreamlike sensation of witnessing a city in the sky, a phantom mirage.

I couldn't fathom what principle kept the City of the Sky preserved so perfectly; the vibrant colors hadn't faded one bit. But there was no time to ponder now. Although the water roared incessantly, the soul-piercing cries from inside the cave were audible outside. Those monsters would catch up in moments. I pointed toward the palace of the King's Tomb and told Shirley Yang, "Let's try to retreat there first. The broken insect path to the King's Tomb should block them."

Shirley Yang replied, "Good. There are several suspended ancient plank roads along the side that we can use to get around."

I also spotted the remains of those ancient walkways clinging to the cliff face. They were constructed from wooden stakes and stone slabs, and in some places, they were carved directly into the mountainside to form steps, wrapping around the circular, perilous cliffs. Two of these paths even led down toward the large pool below. The sheer volume of work involved in building these paths alone was breathtaking. These were no ordinary walkways; their sturdiness and width were unprecedented. Every brick and tile used for the King's Tomb had been transported up from here by slaves.

The more I considered it, the colder I felt. Such a massive ancient royal tomb far exceeded our prior expectations. Did we have any real chance of breaching it to find the 'Phoenix Gallbladder'? Right now, I had no certainty whatsoever. We had severely underestimated the scale of the 'Tomb of the Xian King.'

I shook my head, dismissing the disheartening thought, and climbed down the old vine to where Fatty was located. Then I helped Shirley Yang down as well. The nearest plank road was not far off to the left. I told Fatty and Shirley Yang, "Cut the vines and swing over to the walkway."

While this method was risky, there was no better alternative at the moment. This high, sheer cliff—forget about a phobic like Fatty, even Shirley Yang and I felt dizzy. Every movement here felt like standing on a rainbow, with water vapor rising all around us. The rocks and plants were slick; every step was like treading on thin ice, terrifyingly dangerous, forcing us to hold our breath. Furthermore, we had to yank on severed vines and leap seven or eight meters to the remnants of the walkway. Who could guarantee that the cliffside pathway was still solid? It might crumble into dust with a single touch.

Fatty remained hesitant, his legs shaking uncontrollably. I told him, "Can you stop quivering? If you keep shaking, you'll shake these vines loose yourself. You might as well take a desperate leap; dying in a jump is better than dying like a coward."

Fatty retorted, "Don't try to provoke me with words! You jump first. Once you’re across, I’ll jump. Whoever doesn't jump is a grandson."

Shirley Yang had already hooked a long vine with her paratrooper knife and told us, "Stop arguing. The Zhong Ying are already climbing over. If we don't go now, it'll be too late."

I looked up and saw four or five viscous, humanoid insects crawling down towards us from above our heads. It looked like more were following, and their bodies seemed larger than before, having shed the infant stage. The insect characteristics were far more pronounced.

I pulled the 'Chicago Typewriter' from Fatty's backpack and fired several rounds upward. Three semi-humanoid reptiles were immediately hit, tumbling into the deep, jade-green pool. Two splashes of white water erupted on the surface, but we heard no sound, completely drowned out by the thunderous roar of the waterfall, and no corpses bobbed to the surface.

The three of us were unnerved. Shirley Yang looked down at the barometer on her wrist; the altitude was lower than that of America's famous Grand Canyon. She gasped, "How is this place so similar to the 'Bottomless Ghost Cave' in the Zaglama Mountains?"

I took the backpack and hoisted it onto my own shoulders. I couldn't care less if this place resembled the 'Ghost Cave.' I figured Fatty, being high up, had courage less than a rabbit's. If we got to the walkway first and left him behind, he surely wouldn't dare jump across. So, without another word, I shoved the old vine into Fatty's hand, telling him, "Just go for it, don't forget the safety clip on your waist—you won't fall to your death." Saying this, I immediately cut the old vine and kicked Fatty's rear, intending to send him leaping toward the walkway about five meters diagonally below us.

However, my foot met empty air. We were suspended by more than ten intertwined vines, supporting the three of us plus a large pack of gear, just barely balanced. Suddenly, three or four old vines snapped simultaneously. We were all left hanging mid-air, on the verge of falling. The sudden drop caught us off guard. Looking up, I saw that the vines had been severed by the monstrous insects chasing behind us.