Chapter 49: Ghost Wall, Unable to Exit the Deep Mountains

The moonlight was pure and clear, coldly overlooking the people moving through the mist, constantly rushing back and forth, as if trapped in a cycle.

The surrounding darkness grew even thicker, forming a stark contrast with the white mist; black and white intertwined now, like a heavy spiderweb layered upon itself, leaving the insects inside unable to escape.

Poor them, they were completely unaware of this, still engaging in futile effort.

Yang Cheng and Ma Tian did not know how long they had walked; despite their throats becoming dry from walking, they still saw no path leading down the mountain.

Originally, there were still people speaking in the group.

But as time passed, it grew increasingly quiet, as if they were being assimilated by the surrounding environment, falling into a deathlike silence, inexplicably making people feel a bit anxious.

"Do you guys feel it's too quiet?"

A sudden sound rang out, breaking the original silence.

Everyone involuntarily stopped their steps.

At first they could still hear insect chirps and bird calls, as well as the incessant cicada singing, but as the white mist appeared, all these sounds vanished completely.

Besides their footsteps, there was no other sound around.

The white mist formed a world of its own, as if it had completely severed them from this land.

Yang Cheng's expression turned somewhat odd; he earnestly tried to calm everyone, saying, "Don't think too much; maybe there are just no insects around here. If we keep walking forward, we might yet get down the mountain."

Although this reasoning didn't hold up, the people didn't care to dwell on it; they quickened their pace, hoping to escape this strange environment.

Ma Tian suddenly stopped his steps.

Yang Cheng's tone grew impatient: "What's wrong now?"

Ma Tian looked around, as if he had sensed something, and his expression suddenly turned strange.

"I feel like we've walked this road before."

Within the group, a small commotion suddenly arose.

"No way, we've come such a long distance—how could we be just going in circles back where we started?"

Yang Cheng took his flashlight and carefully swept it around the surroundings, saying, "Don't go spouting nonsense."

Ma Tian instantly grew anxious: "Really, I remember that crooked-neck tree; back then I found it striking, so I glanced at it a few extra times."

He paused in his tone, then spoke word by word: "But now I see that crooked-neck tree again!"

Everyone looked in the direction he pointed, and indeed there stood a lone crooked-neck tree.

The tree had few leaves left, only a bare trunk, twisted into a strange shape, like an elderly person in their final years.

"Maybe you misremembered; it's not unusual to see identical trees in the mountains."

Although he said that, Yang Cheng kept a reservation in his heart, and the group continued onward.

But not long after, the crooked-neck tree appeared again before everyone's eyes; Yang Cheng felt his throat inexplicably dry, and his heart grew anxious.

He feigned calm: "Perhaps we just happened upon the same tree again."

Others' expressions clearly showed disbelief—how could such a coincidence happen? It's not as if the surroundings are all crooked-neck trees.

For a moment, everyone's faces turned somewhat grim.

"Perhaps we were too hasty earlier, took a wrong turn, and thus ended up back where we started."

Yang Cheng tied a strip of cloth to the tree, then led the group in the opposite direction, saying, "Don't worry, this time we'll definitely make it out."

The crooked-neck tree watched from behind as the line of people merged into the thick mist; silver light from the sky showered down, and although there was no wind around, the cloth on the tree began to flutter for no reason.

This time, nobody saw the crooked-neck tree, and they all breathed a sigh of relief in unison, as if a stone had finally been lifted from their hearts.

Yang Cheng spoke with relief: "It seems we just lost our direction a moment ago, looping back to the start; we should be out of the mountains soon."

Imagining is beautiful, yet reality is cruel.

Before Yang Cheng's words had even finished, Ma Tian's slightly trembling voice sounded, pointing ahead: "That, that thing ahead—what is it?"

Not far away, a black silhouette appeared, like a twisted monster lurking deep in the mist, secretly watching their every move.

Yang Cheng felt an uneasy premonition, and cautiously stepped forward to have a look.

His pupils suddenly contracted, as if he had seen something utterly unbelievable, and even his breathing became extremely rapid.

A lone crooked-neck tree came into view, with the cloth he had personally tied still on its branches.

Yang Cheng cried out in shock: "How could this be!"

They had walked for at least half an hour, and moreover they had gone the opposite direction—how could they possibly be back where they started!

All of this is truly too strange.

If before we could explain it by two similar trees, but the cloth was tied by Yang Cheng himself—surely there couldn't be another like it.

Everyone's panic on their faces had been replaced by fear and terror.

"This is really too evil; we must have run into a ghost wall."

"We've walked so long and still haven't gotten out—could it be that we've been going in circles the whole time."

"This mountain is truly too evil; even mountain mist isn't this thick—could there be some unclean thing causing mischief."

A mountain wind blew from somewhere, making the leaves not far off rustle with a shushing sound, as if someone were clapping.

Yet the mist was thick, they couldn't see clearly, only hearing the omnipresent mountain wind wailing, like ghosts crying and gods howling.

Together with this crooked-neck tree before them, it became strange to the extreme, sending chills through their hearts.

The cold sweat on their backs had already soaked their clothes; when the wind blew, they couldn't help but shiver.

Ma Tian couldn't help but swallow, "Then what should we do now?"

A flash of ruthlessness crossed Yang Cheng's eyes: "What ghost wall? I don't believe it—keep walking! I refuse to believe we can't get out of this broken mountain!"

This time he chose a direction opposite the crooked-neck tree again.

However, not long after, the crooked-neck tree appeared again.

The expressions on everyone's faces grew even grimmer, and at the same time an indescribable fear welled up in their hearts.

Yang Cheng glanced askance, his expression gloomy as if it could drip water.

They didn't know how long they had walked; they seemed to have fallen into a loop, each time able to see that crooked-neck tree.

The vast fog formed a strange circle, enclosing them inside, from which they could no longer exit.

Yang Cheng was drenched in sweat, his eyes bloodshot, and upon seeing the crooked-neck tree again, he could no longer bear it.

"Bang!"

He kicked the crooked-neck tree with one foot, and the whole tree shook violently.

"Damn it, I told you to block our way!"

"It's just a rotten tree; do you think we'd be afraid of it?"

Yang Cheng kicked repeatedly, his expression ferocious, yet his brows and eyes showed some panic.

The crooked-neck tree was already slender, its branches and trunk thin, long weathered, its interior almost hollow.

All that was heard was a "crack," and it fell over.

Yang Cheng still felt unsatisfied, and he stomped on it a few more times hard.

(End of Chapter)