As Iley Yang and I observed the surrounding ritual scenes recorded by the "Human Execution Pit," the more we looked, the more shocking it became. Although the ancient carved patterns were simple in composition, the psychological impact they delivered was no less than witnessing a living person being flayed alive before our eyes; every stroke of the murals seemed drenched in blood.

But more brutal and ruthless than the murals depicting the killing rites was the reality we had to face: the iron-clad rules allowed for no deviation. To perform the Ghost Cave ritual, at least one person was required as a sacrifice. Without the soul of a sacrifice, it was like having no air—the candle could not burn.

The simple, crude stick figures in the murals clearly distinguished between the "offering" and the "priest." The entire process of sacrificing the "Serpent Bone" was performed by two priests. Dressed in strange robes and wearing masks, they first secured a slave to the wall and used a sharp implement to peel the skin from the slave’s head, starting from the crown. Before the slave completely died, they placed him in the stone trough on the ground to finish the killing. Afterward, one "priest" carried the dead offering into the area with two pools near the altar—that was the primary location for the Serpent Bone sacrifice. Regardless of the ritual method, both the deceased and the "Phoenix Gall" had to be simultaneously submerged into their respective pools, seemingly to maintain some kind of energetic balance.

The scene of the killing ritual was too gruesome. After viewing it twice, I felt physically ill, as if I could smell a heavy, putrid stench of blood in my nostrils; my heart filled with nausea and terror. I asked Iley Yang if there was no other way. If survival meant turning on our companions, whether from a moral standpoint or according to conscience, it was absolutely unacceptable. Companions—to put it plainly, they were brothers and partners who ate from the same pot. Who could bring themselves to strike a deadly blow against one of their own? Turning a gun on one's comrade, even if one miraculously survived, would lead to eternal damnation. They might escape the curse of the Ghost Cave, but they would never escape the curse on their own conscience.

Iley Yang was clearly also burdened by extreme psychological stress. I tried to comfort her: "It’s not a dead end yet. Let’s think of other ways; there must be a solution." Although I said this, I had no confidence whatsoever. I just didn't want to face that cruel problem immediately; stalling for even a moment was better.

The stone trough and wall used for the skinning and killing ritual were too terrible to look at for long. We returned to the hall with the two pools. We saw Ah Xiang sitting next to Uncle Ming, softly sobbing while clutching his severed hand. Uncle Ming sat leaning against the wall, his eyes vacant and his head bowed. Fatty was squatting on the ground, examining a strange crystal bowl. Seeing Iley Yang and me return, he waved us over to look together.

I had noticed this transparent crystal bowl when I first entered but hadn't paid it any attention. Seeing it seemed odd now, I approached it and remarked, "This looks a bit like some kind of timekeeping device."

The bowl of the crystal vessel was like a small water vat, connected seamlessly to the mountain body of Yushan, with no discernible joint. At some point, a thin stream of dark cyan crystal sand began to leak from above, already forming a thick layer at the bottom of the bowl. I traced the source of the flowing "crystal sand" upward to the joint with the mountain, where there was a black mural of a grotesque demon, its features blurred and unrecognizable. However, I felt it strongly resembled the "Great Black Heavenly Thunder Mountain" from the tunnel. Was this crystal bowl, constantly pouring in the sand, an ancient timer? What was its purpose, placed here inexplicably? A bad feeling arose in my mind, vague and hazy like that shadow; even though my thoughts were chaotic, I sensed that this thing which measured time was not benign.

Fatty said to us, "I noticed this thing started leaking crystal sand as soon as we came in. Judging by my expertise in antique appraisal and aesthetic taste, this item has some miraculous craftsmanship and could fetch a good price at Panjiayuan. Why don't we... take it back as a souvenir?"

My doubts were deepening, so I shook my head at Fatty, then nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Iley Yang suddenly spoke up: "Maybe we accidentally triggered some mechanism when we entered the altar. This crystal bowl has started a countdown. If we haven't completed the ritual before the sand fills up, then..." She trailed off, casting her gaze toward the shadowy, demonic mural.

I immediately realized: yes, this underground altar was the core of the E’luohai people's sacred domain; one could not simply come and go. If the ritual wasn't performed by a certain time, the "Great Black Heavenly Thunder Mountain" from the tunnel would be released into the altar from the white tunnel. We still didn't know what that shadowy thing was—it seemed to be some form of evil substance existing within the crystal stone, the "supervisor" of the altar. How much time did we have left?

Judging by the speed of the sand flow and the size of the crystal bowl, we had no more than two and a half to three hours remaining. We had to complete that cruel, skinning "killing ritual" within this timeframe.

Facing this steadily depleting death countdown, our heartbeats began to quicken, as if what was flowing out wasn't "crystal sand" but souls continuously escaping their shells. Iley Yang said time was still plentiful, but watching the flowing sand inside the altar within Yushan only heightened the pressure in our hearts. Let’s retreat to the stone pillars and beams outside first and discuss how to handle this.

Fatty and I felt the same way. So, bringing Ah Xiang and Uncle Ming, the group temporarily left the evil altar cave and sat under the stone figures near the beams, each lost in their own thoughts, sinking into a long silence.

Finally, I spoke first. Throughout the journey, constantly encountering references to the "Ghost Cave," "Serpent Bone," "Imaginary Space," and various religious legends I had never heard of, I was gradually forming a rough concept of the "Bottomless Ghost Cave." I explained my concept to Iley Yang.

The Ghost Cave tribe of the Jingjue people called the bottomless pit containing the Serpent Bone the "Ghost Cave," but the E’luohai people had no such term; they called it directly the "Serpent Bone." These were skeletal remains from Imaginary Space that should absolutely not exist in our current reality. The abyss-like cave was the memory within the skull of those remains. The E’luohai believed the world was a cycle of life, death, and rebirth. After this world was destroyed, another would be born, the cycle continuing endlessly; all worlds were one, and the "Serpent Bone" would be resurrected in that next world. By continually sacrificing lives to appease it, they hoped the E’luohai people could also endure in that other world.

If one understood the Ghost Cave legends from another angle, one would find astonishing similarities to ancient Chinese geomancy. The essence of Feng Shui is not merely "Dragon, Sand, Water, Direction"; ultimately, it is the pursuit of "Unity of Heaven and Man." What is "Unity of Heaven and Man"? "Heaven" signifies the cosmos, the world; "Man" signifies humanity, including all creatures and life. Under the concept of "Unity of Heaven and Man," none of these things exist independently; they are one, a single entity, or as Iley Yang put it, like the later theory of "Cosmic Holography."

The theory of "Unity of Heaven and Man" posits the existence of Yin and Yang energies. Although divided into two poles, since they are one entity, there must also be a point of convergence—this area is the "Dragon Core" of the ancestral dragon earth vein, buried deep beneath Kunlun Mountain. The "Dragon Core" is the place where the vital energy gathers. Looking up, one could see the crystal veins overhead; some had turned entirely black, while others shone brilliantly. When the lifespan of one dragon vein ended, a new one began to appear—this was the so-called exchange of life and death. Perhaps only under the Dragon’s Peak in the Kara-Mil region of the world was there such a rare geological phenomenon. This was the place where "Yin" and "Yang" merged and mingled, which is why the E’luohai built their altar at this crucial junction where the arc intersected. Although ancient people were primitive and ignorant, perhaps their understanding of the natural world was far more profound than that of modern people.

The curse of the Ghost Cave, whether transmitted by a virus infecting the eyes or by the resentment of an evil god, could be removed most directly and effectively by casting a cursed sacrificial corpse and the "Phoenix Gall" into the two pools within the Dragon Core in opposing positions, thereby severing the connection. The murals in the altar recorded that this passage had been closed more than once. Closing the passage would not erase the Ghost Cave, the Shadow E’luohai City, or the marks on our bodies, but it would turn them into tangible things, removing their harm, until a new sacrificial rite was performed. However, the altar must not be destroyed, as this would significantly affect the geography of the mountains and rivers, leading to unquantifiable consequences.

I checked the time; unconsciously, an hour had passed while discussing with Iley Yang. We had thought of many possibilities, but the final conclusion remained the same as the initial one: without a sacrifice, everyone would die inside the altar.

Fatty had been listening for a long time and couldn't interject. Although he didn't grasp the whole picture, he understood the gist of it and said, "A sacrifice? That's not hard. Isn't there one right here? A true man doesn't shrink from small risks, a brave man isn't afraid of poison..." He looked at Uncle Ming, his meaning obvious. If someone had to die, no one was more suitable than the old Hong Kong farmer. He brought this on himself; we told him eight hundred and sixty times not to follow us, but he insisted, and now his head is concussed and he's old enough to be our elder. Since the Ghost Cave curse kills the oldest first, he's practically already dead. So, we don't need to practice revolutionary humanitarianism. As Old Hu would say, it’s sacrificing oneself to hell to save the world—achieving nirvana, worthy of celebration.

Upon hearing this, Ah Xiang's face turned pale with fright, so much so that she couldn't even cry. She clung tightly to Iley Yang, pleading, "Sister Yang, please don't kill my godfather! He’s the only one who looks after me in this world; I have no other family."

Iley Yang comforted her not to worry, then said to me, "This cannot be done. You know I'm religious; I’d rather die myself than do something inhumane. Although Uncle Ming probably won't live past tomorrow at this time, if we kill him, how can we face our own conscience? The Bishop taught us that..."

I told Iley Yang, "What your Lord preaches is useless platitudes; I don't want to listen to him. But you are right. We've done things that are morally questionable due to necessity. Setting aside everything else, look at the code of conduct for tomb raiders—we've broken nearly every rule. You could say the window of morality has long been pierced, but there’s a difference between sticking a finger through the window and climbing the whole body through. I still can't bring myself to do something this dark and ruthless."

Iley Yang was relieved when I said this and remarked, "If someone absolutely must die, I..."

I knew Iley Yang constantly felt responsible for involving so many people in the desert Ghost Cave incident and carried a deep sense of guilt. She was quite willful, and at this moment, she was probably planning to die in the altar so that we could live. So, before she could finish, I quickly interrupted her. Everyone looked at me, assuming I had thought of a solution. My mind was a mess. Looking at Uncle Ming’s vacant expression, a flicker of murderous intent surfaced, but my rational side forcibly suppressed the thought. Various contradictory notions tangled together, my brain felt like it was boiling, and my head ached as if it might split open. I glanced at my watch again—the ominous death timeline was rapidly shrinking. Seeing Fatty tossing the "Phoenix Gall" up and catching it, I snatched it away: "Be careful not to drop it down off the beam! It’s deep water down there. If we lose this pearl, none of us will make it out alive. Is this a toy?"

Fatty complained, "Why have you all suddenly gone soft-hearted today? Actually, I think Uncle Ming is suffering just by being alive—dazed and listless. It pains me to look at him. Let’s take this opportunity to send him off and let him attain his deserved end. Ah Xiang, don't be so attached to your godfather; keeping him alive is holding him back and delaying him. Once this chance is gone, it won't be a death to save the world, so he won't attain nirvana, and who knows what he’ll be reborn as? Besides... besides, there’s the most important reason: don't forget, Uncle Ming has a concussion and is half-witted, meaning he knows nothing. It’s better to..."

Ah Xiang was speechless against Fatty's logic and was about to start crying again when she suddenly heard Uncle Ming, who had been sitting silently without reaction, let out a soft groan: "Ouch... it hurts... Is this old life of mine still living?"

Ah Xiang was overjoyed and surprised to see Uncle Ming's consciousness return. Uncle Ming appeared very weak, his gaze scattered. He said that when he fell onto the crystal stone at the bottom of the cloud layer, his climbing helmet must have snagged, causing him to smash his head against something hard, and after that, he knew nothing. He then asked where they were.

Ah Xiang explained the situation to him. Uncle Ming stroked Ah Xiang’s head, sighed deeply, "Ah, this poor child. Where is Brother Hu? I... I have something to tell him."

Uncle Ming requested that Iley Yang and Fatty step aside, knowing he probably wanted to discuss Ah Xiang's marriage. They reluctantly retreated a few paces. With tears streaming down his face, Uncle Ming said to me, "Ever since I heard the name Thunder Mountain, I was mentally prepared. It seems my internal organs were injured this time; it’s fate. Since one person must die, none of us can leave alive... Then I accept my fate... But I worry about this child, Ah Xiang. You must promise me you will take good care of her in the future." As he spoke, he weakly grasped Ah Xiang’s hand, trying to pass it to me.

Seeing that Uncle Ming was near death, his words were indeed kind, and a bird’s cry is mournful before death, I felt a sudden pang of sorrow. I took Ah Xiang’s hand and promised him, "Don't worry about these things. While I might not marry her, I will take care of her forever, like my own sister. If I have dry food, I will certainly not let her drink thin soup."

A look of relief appeared in Uncle Ming's eyes. He tried to take my other hand. At this moment of separation, I was also deeply moved. Just as I was about to extend my other hand to shake his, in my momentary distraction, I noticed a slight, almost imperceptible, strange glint in Uncle Ming's eyes. It was like a flash of lightning in my brain: "Damn it, this acting is too convincing, but you’re still a bit short of fooling Hu Ye!"

However, I was still a half-step too slow. In less than a second, Uncle Ming snatched the "Phoenix Gall" and rolled away from the ground. My other hand was still clasped with Ah Xiang's. I quickly shook off her hand and tried to lunge for Uncle Ming's legs to hold him back, but we were not far from the edge of the beam, and below was the mirror-maze-like crystal stone, with water in some places. That "Phoenix Gall," crucial to everyone’s survival, could easily fall during a struggle. My hands were tied by caution; I dared not exert full force and failed to stop him.

Uncle Ming sprang up like an old monkey, used the stone basin in front of the stone figure for leverage, and scrambled onto the head of the statue in two quick bounds. Raising the "Phoenix Gall," he shouted, "If anyone dares to touch me, I'll throw this pearl down. We all die together! Hu Boy and Fatty, you sons of ill fortune, dreaming that Lei Xianming will die for you—it’s a pipe dream! What scenes haven't I seen? I've always been the one to survive till the end. Nobody is going to kill me!"