We were so focused on examining the dead fish on the ground that we didn't notice when A'Xiang disappeared. But she certainly hadn't made any sound of struggle or distress, or someone surely would have noticed. A wave of worry washed over us; we suspected the worst—that she had been snatched by whatever creatures came to drink the blood of the dead after the sacrifices.

Then we saw the set of footprints. The bloodstains were fresh, and there was only one set of tracks. Judging by the shape, they belonged to A'Xiang. There were perhaps a dozen steps before they became indistinct where the dried corpses were piled up.

If something had taken her, it couldn't have been long ago. If we pursued them now, there might still be a chance to save her. We wasted no time, urgently following the direction of the footprints, crossing over the heap of desiccated bodies. Beneath the pile, blood prints reappeared, leading around the back of the altar. We hurried after them, taking two steps for every three we normally would, and rounding Jade Mountain, we saw an opening among the crystal layers behind the peak—a hole leading to an unknown place. A slender figure flickered and vanished inside.

Though we only caught a glimpse, the figure’s build and clothing strongly suggested it was A'Xiang. There seemed to be nothing else around her. Why would she come all this way, bleeding so much, and what was she trying to do? Suspicion made me slow my pace slightly, but Shirley Yang quickened hers, hurrying forward to catch up to A'Xiang. Uncle Ming was also shouting A'Xiang's name.

The cavern of this altar had initially been divided by cloud and mist. The disturbance from Thunderstrike Mountain had completely dispersed the stone vapor, but we had been too busy scrambling for our lives to notice the existence of this rear entrance. Now, a faint mist was slowly rising from the crystal layers again, the stone vapor ethereal and hazy, filling the surroundings with a pervasive silence and ambiguity that made everything look strangely unreal. The mountain crevices around the cavern's edge were unfathomably deep. My intuition screamed that this cave was no ordinary place. Inside, the crystal veins diminished, the fluorescence dimmed, and a subtle sense of danger permeated the air. But seeing Shirley Yang already moving quickly inside, I put aside further hesitation. After a brief pause, I raised my "Wolf's Eye" flashlight and followed her into the mountain.

As soon as the group entered the cave, we hadn't chased more than a few steps before catching up to the figure we had seen earlier—it was indeed A'Xiang. However, she seemed to be sleepwalking, her vacant eyes staring straight ahead. Blood dripped incessantly from her nose, yet she was completely oblivious to it and unresponsive to our arrival, walking deeper and deeper into the cavern one step at a time.

I reached out to grab her, but Uncle Ming quickly stopped me. "Don't startle her, Old Hu. A'Xiang seems to have a soul-loss syndrome. With this condition, she must awaken on her own; touching her might prevent her soul from returning. She never had symptoms like this before; perhaps she's been cursed?"

I dared not move, but A'Xiang’s nose kept bleeding. Due to the excessive blood loss, her face had lost all color. If I did nothing, she could bleed to death. Shirley Yang said, "Irritating smells like sulfur or saltpeter can restore consciousness to hysterical patients." She took out the "Northern Earth Black Pearl" and was about to act when she noticed A'Xiang now held a sharp shard of crystal in her hand, slowly moving it toward her own eye.

Shirley Yang quickly brushed the "Northern Earth Black Pearl" near A'Xiang’s nostril. A'Xiang suddenly coughed violently, her body went limp, and she collapsed immediately. Fatty and I rushed to support her, sitting her up and tilting her head back while pressing on the ear cartilage above to stop the bleeding. Fortunately, we discovered it in time. But what was wrong with her? Why did she walk into this cave? Why did she try to gouge out her eyes? Could something inside the cave have confused her mind?

Shirley Yang told me A'Xiang couldn't possibly walk any further and should rest here for a while. I agreed. We'd rest for half an hour. If she couldn't walk, Fatty and I would carry her back. A'Xiang was lucky; I got a few pieces of shed turtle shell from Fatty and crushed them with a stone for Shirley Yang to feed her. These priceless spiritual turtle shells were miraculous elixirs for replenishing blood and nourishing the spirit. Fatty was naturally pained; he hadn't had much to begin with, and now it had all gone to A'Xiang. Only a palm-sized piece remained. After some thought, he decided Uncle Ming would have to pay for this; he’d write an IOU and repay the money upon our return—no backing out. Afterward, we dragged in two dead, monstrous fish. Starved and desperate, they would eat anything. Given how many years the killing ritual had been abandoned, these creatures might not have actually drunk human blood like their ancestors. Scraping off the scales and roasting them carelessly over a fire would suffice for sustenance.

I swept the flashlight around to examine the terrain. The cave was narrow and not very deep. We had nearly reached the end when we caught up to A'Xiang. With the "Wolf's Eye," I could see the situation at the end of the beam: a wall constructed of massive stones. Beneath the wall were three very low archways. Engraved on the heavy wall was a totem of a bleeding eyeball, radiating intense malevolence.

Seeing the bloody eye, everyone exchanged glances, speechless for a long moment. Not even the map Father Jose had copied from the Reincarnation Temple held any record of this place. Furthermore, all legends stated that the underground altar of the City of Evil Seas had only a single passage. Where was beyond this wall? And what did the bleeding eye imply?

Shirley Yang suggested this bleeding eye likely corresponded to the closed eye we saw before the White Tunnel. Many places in the City of Evil Seas bore various eye totems. In my view, the eyes carved on walls and stone doors served to demarcate areas or act as warnings. A closed eye is easily understood, but a bleeding one has many possibilities. The most probable is a warning: the area behind this wall is forbidden—a secret zone even more critical than Jizhi.

I went up to the stone wall at the cave's end. A fishy smell wafted from the three low archways below. Wiping my hand, I felt a slimy residue. Fish-scale-like flakes clung to the stone. Those creatures that went to suck blood after the sacrificial rites must have crawled in from behind this wall. That meant there might be water behind the stone barrier. The texture of the stone wall was inconsistent, suggesting it had been broken and repaired, or perhaps it was never a wall originally but a stone door sealed for some reason.

After a while, A'Xiang regained some consciousness. Her face was terrifyingly pale, and her body was extremely weak, making it hard for her to speak. Shirley Yang asked her what happened and if she knew what she was doing.

A'Xiang first shook her head, then said that under the Sky Beam, she was suddenly overcome with fear. She had only one thought: to leave as quickly as possible and never look at those mummies again. She walked here in a daze, not understanding why she did any of it.

Uncle Ming said, "My goddaughter bleeds from the nose when she sees things heavy with Yin energy, and it happened again. She is too young. She doesn't know what's good for her, but we have been through countless dangers. We know the stakes. It’s best not to linger here. Listen to me; the safest way is to go back the way we came."

I considered this. Going back would, at best, lead us back to the volcanic island in the center of the lake. Although there were a few underground rivers there, it was essentially a dead end, and the currents were too swift for anyone injured to navigate. While there might be danger behind this wall, there was also a chance to find a way forward. Moreover, A'Xiang walking here in a trance suggested deeper secrets were hidden underground. Ignoring it would always be a risk. Since such a place was hidden behind the altar cave, it might be connected to the Ghost Cave. To truly resolve this, we needed to eliminate the root cause; otherwise, peace might never return.

I checked the compass on my watch. The stone wall was not aligned with the White Tunnel running east-west; it was situated to the northwest. This confirmed my decision. However, I still needed the consent of the others.

Shirley Yang said that the path we took in was blocked by fallen crystals, making a retreat difficult. We only had two pull-fused detonators left, not enough to blast through. Another option was to climb to the top of the cavern and use a detonator to breach the ceiling, causing the lake water above to flood in and fill the cavern, allowing us to swim back to the underground lake. But many of us were injured, and prolonged exposure to water could be life-threatening.

Uncle Ming became hesitant again, strongly advocating returning via the underground lake. Being extremely superstitious, he absolutely refused to venture into a place heavy with Yin energy. He pleaded with me, "Are you serious, Old Hu? Didn't your Senior Brother say we would find the right path upon encountering water? I think that was absolutely correct. But we don't even know if there is water behind this wall. How can we ignore the advice of a master?"

I cursed the old Hong Kong farmer inwardly for dragging his feet again. But what could I do? If I followed my instinct, I’d leave him behind, but Shirley Yang, a believer in God, would certainly never agree to that. If we took Uncle Ming, even though his mental state had somewhat recovered, there was no guarantee his paranoia wouldn't flare up. A thought struck me: even a man like Uncle Ming had a weakness—his excessive superstition. Why not use this to convince him this was the path to life?

With this in mind, I told Uncle Ming, "Encountering water to find the middle path is certainly correct. All the way here, whenever we faced a dead end, we found water to solve the difficulty. But the water in the I Ching's Five Elements and Bagua doesn't necessarily mean flowing water in a lake; it also implies direction. In the Five Elements, North represents Water; Water's generating number is One, and its completing number is Six. North signifies Water."

This clearly didn't convince Uncle Ming, as he didn't understand it anyway. Truthfully, I barely understood it myself. However, my study of Feng Shui secrets inherently involved techniques like the Five Elements and Bagua. While I wasn't as deeply versed in esoteric techniques as Zhang Yingchuan, I knew the principles of mutual generation and restriction among the Five Elements, along with some things I'd heard from Zhang Yingchuan during our previous encounter. I launched into a narrative for Uncle Ming: "The numbers of the Bagua and Five Elements originate from the He Tu (River Chart). What is the He Tu? Back when Fuxi ruled the world—when Fuxi was the leader—he was troubled, constantly worried. Think about it; in those days, those old cadres weren't plagued by corruption; they were all dedicated and constantly worried about the nation and its people. One day, he sat by the river under an apple tree, pondering state affairs..."

Fatty, busy starting a fire to roast fish, couldn't resist interjecting, "Old Hu, I know this story too! Did an apple fall and hit him right on the head, making stars flash before his eyes, leading him to comprehend the Bagua Taiji diagram?"

I told Fatty to keep quiet if he didn't know what he was talking about. "The one whose head was hit by an apple was Newton. Fuxi was worried under an apple tree by the river, contemplating the fate of his subjects. In that primeval, desolate era, disasters were frequent, and the populace lived in deep misery. Moreover, human understanding of nature and the cosmos was extremely limited then. Fuxi prayed to the river, hoping to receive some guidance on how to help his people avoid disaster and live in peace."

At that moment, a Dragon-Horse leaped out of the river, carrying a chart on its back. Fuxi then drew the eight trigrams based on its markings. Some say the Dragon-Horse carried a giant tortoise shell, or perhaps the Dragon-Horse itself was an old tortoise whose shell bore naturally formed, miraculous patterns. Regardless of the legend, this was the He Tu. Fuxi drew the eight trigrams according to the pattern on the chart. This was humanity's earliest understanding of the universe and the world; the Heavenly Way was contained within. Records state that the markings on the chart carried by the Dragon-Horse included one white spot and six black spots near the tail, seven black spots and two white spots near the head... each version varied slightly. The He Tu contained a total of fifty-five black and white spots. The twenty-five white ones were called Heavenly Numbers, representing Yang—all odd numbers: one, three, five, seven, nine. The thirty black spots were Earth Numbers, representing Yin—all even numbers: two, four, six, eight, ten. The chart also designated one, two, three, four, and five as Generating Numbers, and six, seven, eight, nine, and ten as Completing Numbers, implying a relationship of mutual generation and completion. Each of the five directions had one odd and one even number, paired to symbolize that all things in the world are formed by the union of Yin and Yang, suggesting the Dao encompasses creation either from Heaven to Earth or Earth to Heaven.

"That's why it is said that North is where Yang energy first begins to generate—Generating Number One, Completing Number Six—termed 'Heaven generates Water by One, Earth completes it by Six.' The laws of all things follow this. Therefore, I say that heading north, we will surely encounter water and find the right path."

Shirley Yang couldn't help but exclaim after hearing this, "I never expected you to know so much esoteric nonsense. I always thought, apart from looking at Feng Shui, all you knew was how to count money."

When even Shirley Yang praised my knowledge, I naturally felt proud and almost spoke without restraint, but I maintained a modest tone. "Actually, I know a great deal more; you all just never give me the chance to speak. Now that I’ve explained, perhaps everyone can be at ease. All theories in the world are derived from existing objective facts. So I dare say the North is definitely a gate of life, because there is another crucial reason. Tomb Robbers have an ancient rule: when entering an ancient tomb, one must light a lamp in the southeast corner first, as the southeast is the direction of disaster (Huo) and action (Shi). When the lamp is lit, calamity will arise. The northwest corner is the path to life. Northwest, Northeast, and North correspond to the three gates of Opening, Rest, and Life. Among the Eight Mansions, only these three are auspicious gates. Even Sima Qian mentioned this, saying, 'Those who undertake tasks often start in the East and West; those who complete them often find success in the Northwest.' Likewise, to someone versed in Yin-Yang Feng Shui, action begins in the South and success is gathered in the North. From a strategic orientation, North, Northwest, and Northeast hold absolute strategic advantage. The North governs generative water and represents beneficial, vibrant energy."

My explanation completely convinced Uncle Ming. He became certain that going North was the only way to survive. After a brief rest, we squeezed through the low archway at the end of the passage. Before leaving, I stared again at the bleeding eye totem on the stone wall. Did this symbol have any connection to A'Xiang's attempt to blind herself? A sense of unease settled in my heart. In truth, my talk about the North governing water was just to placate Uncle Ming; I myself wasn't confident. But every other path was closed. I could only hope this was a path to life.

As we emerged from the low archway, the view suddenly opened up. A magnificent, deep underground canyon stretched before us. The cliffs on both sides looked sheer, radiating a heavy, dead atmosphere. With the faint light from the surrounding ore, we could vaguely make out the contours, while the heights faded into impenetrable darkness ahead. After walking dozens of meters forward, we found the canyon floor crisscrossed with the fossilized skeletons of gigantic creatures. The closest was a triangular skull, no smaller than a small house. Near the edge of the canyon, countless bone fossils had merged seamlessly with the rock; only the long vertebral columns indicated that the stone had once been alive.

Fatty, carrying the drowsy A'Xiang, told us, "Didn't they say the Mo People offered sacrifices to snakes? Why are there so many giant snake skeletons here? We’d better be careful; there might still be live ones."

Shirley Yang countered, "The skeletons in this massive underground canyon don't resemble snakes; they look more like Leviathan Whales or something similar, dead for at least several million years." I agreed with Shirley Yang. She was right; how could a snake have ribs that large, almost as large as the frames of a ship? All the bones were fossils, with no recent remains, so we didn't need to worry about the creatures themselves. However, we still didn't know what the E'Luo-Hai people had done here, so we needed to remain vigilant.

Just as we were about to scout ahead, A'Xiang suddenly told me she felt something to our side and rear that was giving her a terrible headache. We spun around instantly, and all of us gasped in surprise and awe. We had never expected that right where we emerged, another colossal black statue, similar to the Leshan Giant Buddha, was embedded in the mountainside. The sporadic fluorescence on the mountain highlighted its towering, dark outline, resembling a ferocious shadow reaching toward the sky. It was facing away from us, and the strangest part was that the several-dozen-meter-high statue was leaning forward, its face and both arms sunk deep into the mountain, posed as if peering down into the earth. Its craftsmanship was far less intricate than a Buddha statue; it was merely a silhouette, devoid of decoration or texture.

A question arose in everyone's mind: Is this the true form of the Thunderstrike Mountain of the Great Dark Heaven? What is this place? We soon discovered the giant statue had faces on both sides and was identical front and back, with no clear distinction between them. It possessed only two arms and no feet. Where the statue met the ground was an archway about ten feet high, seemingly leading into some internal space. A few collapsed stone pillars lay before the entrance.

Fatty suggested, "It's rare to find such a well-preserved structure. Why not go in and check? Maybe we can find something valuable to take back; otherwise, this trip will have been a loss for sure."

I also wanted to look inside, but I kept staring up at the massive statue, nearly tripping over something at my feet. It turned out there were many similar fallen stone pillars scattered throughout the canyon. One lay at our feet, half-buried in the mud. Shirley Yang looked down at the pillar by her foot, and suddenly said she knew where we were, but without stating it directly, she turned to A'Xiang and asked, "May I look closely at your eyes?"