The skinless yak head suddenly stirred. Fortunately, Fatty and I were mentally prepared. As Fatty raised his gun to shoot, I hurriedly stopped him, seeing that although the bovine head was monstrously bizarre, it showed no sign of aggression toward us, allowing me to examine the head closely to understand what was happening.

The practice of flaying the face off a yak while it was still alive before slaughtering it was something we had witnessed in the murals of the Reincarnation Temple, so it wasn't strange in itself; it was an ancient tradition symbolizing the release of the soul first so the flesh could be consumed without reservation.

It turned out that this slaughterhouse contained a large wooden stockade, capable of clamping a bull in the middle, with bars that could expand and contract both front and back. This device immobilized the bull, rendering its brute strength useless, allowing the butcher free rein to carry out the slaughter.

The body of the yak was trapped in that bloody wooden stockade. The hide on the body had not been peeled off, and the tail was still twitching. Before the headless, empty carcass lay a heavy axe that had severed the head. The head we saw was suspended in the air by a rope, its eyes still rotating, as if time itself had instantly solidified the very moment the head was cut off, freezing the yak precisely at the instant before its signs of life vanished.

The separation of head from body, with signs of life persisting for seconds or even minutes, is common in the biological world. A headless chicken body can run around for quite some time after its neck is severed. In ancient times, during executions by beheading, if someone called the executed convict's name just as the head hit the ground, the head would sometimes react due to the lingering activity of the nerves.

However, that is usually fleeting. Since Fatty and I first discovered this barely-dead yak head, it had maintained that state suspended between life and death. Had it been stuck like this for millennia? It wasn't just this unfortunate yak; everything in the entire "Aroha City"—every blade of grass and tree, the lit lamps, the unfinished works, the slaughtered yaks, the boiling beef, the bloodied handprints on the stone doors—was frozen in those final few seconds. Yet, not a single human silhouette remained in the deserted city. Was all this connected to the catastrophe that destroyed "Aroha City"? What kind of disaster could possess such terrifying power?

Thinking about what we had just eaten—beef that might have been simmering for several thousand years—made my stomach turn. The phenomena in this city were utterly unbelievable. It was safer to retreat outside the city first and return to the honeycomb-like main city at dawn. So, Fatty and I called Shirley Yang and the others, gathered our gear, and traced our steps back the way we came.

I looked up at the sky; night had long since fallen, yet the light within "Aroha City" remained the same as when I first discovered it, as if trapped in perpetual twilight. Despite the many lights, everything appeared hazy and spectral. Perhaps even the light from the moment the ancient city was destroyed was eternally fixed. If Ah Xiang hadn't confirmed the time, I would have sworn we were in a ghost town.

As we walked, I briefly explained the situation in the slaughterhouse to Shirley Yang. She, however, believed the anomaly was more complex than simply being outside the track of time. For instance, the beef boiled in the pot was genuinely tender and delicious; once eaten, it would not reappear. Everything in the city was locked into a specific temporal phase. Unless affected by external forces, it would never change. The sky outside shifted from dim to pitch black, and the watches kept normal time, indicating that time was flowing normally around us. Furthermore, there was one detail that was easiest to overlook: the objects within "Aroha City" were not entirely motionless. They merely retained a specific form eternally; it was definitely not a result of time freezing. Therefore, the hypothesis of temporal or spatial distortion could temporarily be ruled out, though the cause of this phenomenon remained unknown. For convenience, we could provisionally call that eternal instant within "Aroha City" the "Line" ($\mid$), a mysterious ancient city completely stopped on the "Line," where $\mid$ signifies the unknown.

To unravel the mystery of the "Line," we absolutely needed to understand what transpired in "Aroha City" in its final moments. We would have to wait until morning, re-enter the city, and check if anything had changed to confirm our theories. Perhaps the answers lay deep within the honeycomb citadel.

I was utterly bewildered by the bizarre occurrences in this ancient city, unable to grasp any solution and on the verge of losing my mind. Listening to Shirley Yang’s analysis, I realized her line of thought was remarkably clear. Indeed, comparison reveals one's shortcomings; perhaps I was destined to be a leader, lacking the mind required to be a capable staff advisor.

We climbed back from the outer walls onto the green rock near the "Wind-Eroded Lake." Looking back at "Aroha City" under the night sky, it lay silently submerged, still twinkling with countless lights, yet the internal illumination remained dim, like dusk. It seemed that even by morning, the city would look exactly the same.

After all the running around, Uncle Ming and Ah Xiang were exhausted. Since "Striped Flood Dragons" haunted the forest, we dared not descend the rock face. We found a sheltered spot on the green rock to rest, planning to wait until dawn before exploring the main citadel.

We took turns standing watch. When morning broke, I found Shirley Yang already awake, intently poring over the "Sacred Map Bible" we had found in the Reincarnation Temple. The cloud cover was thick, and the sunlight filtering through the gaps was weak. The valley, surrounded by sheer cliffs and perilous peaks, was quite dim. "Aroha City" below the rock seemed completely isolated from the outside world, remaining unchanged—its lights glittering, yet eerily silent. The entire city was fixed on the "Line."

Shirley Yang mentioned a premonition: if we couldn't uncover the secret of the "Line" today, we might never leave this valley behind the "Gate of Disaster." She felt this place was a true "dead end."

I knew that the map Shirley Yang possessed was severely damaged. It had been stolen by the Portuguese priest from the Reincarnation Sect, who intended to seek treasure, but he was killed in religious conflict before he could embark. We still couldn't definitively tell if the topography drawn depicted the "Land of the Garuda" or the "Phoenix Palace." I asked Shirley Yang if she had made any new discoveries.

Shirley Yang replied, "Comparing it with the surrounding terrain, we can confirm that the Sacred Map is indeed the map of the Phoenix Palace—Aroha City. However, despite our best efforts, we've only managed to restore less than thirty percent of the draft the Portuguese priest sketched, and it's fragmented, scattered pieces that don't connect... But if time permits, I can supplement the missing parts of the map based on the current environment."

Having the ancient city map, even a partial reference, would be a tremendous help. I roused myself, woke up Fatty, Uncle Ming, and Ah Xiang one by one, and divided the remaining meager food supply among them for breakfast. After this meal, we would have no reserves left, except to fish in the lake or go into the city and cook the beef ourselves.

As we prepared to enter the city again, Uncle Ming suggested we skip it, arguing that we could just cross the mountains to find a way out. Since the ancient city was so strange, why risk our lives?

I pretended not to hear, thinking about how much effort Fatty, Shirley Yang, and I had put into finding the source of the "Phoenix Gall," and how difficult it was to reach this location; I was certainly not about to give up easily. Better to die fighting than to retreat defeated. I immediately quickened my pace and entered the city first.

Everything remained unchanged, except for the objects we had previously touched. Even the faint mist hanging over the city was the same. Fatty went straight to the slaughterhouse and cut several large chunks of "fresh" yak beef for reserves.

Last night, we had planned to wait until daylight to get a clear view of the massive "Honeycomb" structure before heading directly to the heart of the matter. But the light in the city remained dim. Looking up from beneath the "Honeycomb," the lights inside the main city resembled thousands of fireflies quietly clinging to the structure. The atmosphere imposed a suffocating sense of pressure.

Only half of the "Great Honeycomb" was visible above ground; the larger portion was buried deep underground. According to the values of the Demon Kingdom, important centers of power should be underground. Thus, we walked around the base of the city and found the largest opening to enter the interior of the "Honeycomb." The density of the tunnels inside, and the complexity of the structure, truly resembled a honeycomb or an ant nest, leading one to question whether the inhabitants were human or insect.

Back in the late sixties and early seventies, when the entire nation was engaged in "digging deep tunnels and storing vast amounts of grain," subversive elements who had fled abroad maliciously claimed that our leaders were from the "Grey" family, otherwise why would the whole country be digging tunnels? I had dug in those "civil defense" facilities myself, but compared to the underground "Aroha City," they seemed insignificant. It was possible that many of these tunnels were naturally occurring; otherwise, given the manpower and equipment of that era, it was hard to imagine such engineering being accomplished.

We followed the largest passage leading underground. These tunnels, as well as the surrounding chambers, were illuminated by lights. Every segment we advanced, Shirley Yang used her pen to record the terrain on paper. She sketched drafts incredibly quickly, and as we moved deeper, she managed to draw a simple, practical route map without significantly slowing us down.

I occasionally shone my "Wolf's Eye" flashlight into the cave dwellings lining the passage. Most of the dark, unlit caves were empty. Some damp chambers held swarms of cockroaches larger than rats, impossible to kill even with the butt of a gun. The further we went, the fewer the cave dwellings became, but their scale grew larger.

At the very end of the subterranean city, there were two massive stone doors, seemingly illusory. On either side of the passage, there were further archways, each adorned with a blue and a white gem, respectively. Shining the flashlight inside, the chamber on the left spanned several dozen square meters with a very high vaulted ceiling. Deep within, there was a grotesque, fierce-looking stone statue of a devil's head. Beneath it was an inscription featuring a pattern of seven-spotted ladybugs. Faint tallow lamps burned in the four corners. In the very center of the floor lay two steamed sacrificial offerings, the Black Bull and the White Horse, placed side by side. The contents of the other archway were similar.

Shirley Yang pulled out the "Sacred Map Bible." One fragment marked locations named "Ice Palace" and "Fire Palace," matching this area perfectly. However, the area that should have been marked beyond the large stone doors at the end of the passage was part of the damaged and lost section of the map. Only at the ragged edge of the missing portion could one make out faint patterns resembling animal skeletons. I recalled that the lowest layer of crystal bricks in the "Black Tiger Altar" of the Reincarnation Sect also displayed similar graphics. Were these skeletons related to the event where all the humans in "Aroha City" vanished?

Bringing these questions with me, I pushed open the stone door at the end. Upon entering, I immediately felt a bone-chilling cold penetrate to my core. I thought the malevolent energy in this hall must be strong—it was both gloomy and cold, utterly different from the upper levels. What I saw was a hall of divine splendor, glittering with treasures. Although there were many lights in the hall, they were all very dim, and the hall was deep, making it difficult to discern the scene inside clearly.

At this moment, Shirley Yang and Fatty followed me through the stone door. Just as I was about to step forward, I suddenly felt something was missing. I turned back and saw that Uncle Ming and Ah Xiang were standing outside, not following. I called out to them, "Come on! What are you waiting for?"

Ah Xiang hid behind Uncle Ming and whispered something to him. Uncle Ming’s face instantly contorted in alarm. Growing even more suspicious, I walked back to ask them what they were up to.

Uncle Ming suddenly drew his pistol and pointed it at me: "Don't come closer! Don't you dare come closer, or I'll shoot! You... there's something clinging to your back."

For more novels, visit storyread.net.