Chapter 210: Main Text Chapter 212: Mountain Road

Main Text Chapter 212: Mountain Road

Besides me and Pangzi, nobody else had ever heard of the "fish formation." We had often heard this legend in the coastal waters of Fujian, and it also occurs in inland freshwater lakes, but for some unknown reason it has become extremely rare in the past twenty years. The "fish formation," also called the "fish wall," is a supernatural fish behavior that biological science still cannot explain: in the water, large numbers of fish of the same species gather together, biting each other's tails, head to tail, forming layer upon layer of circular arrays. Regardless of size, all the fish pile tightly together in layers, and the scale sometimes reaches several li.

In freshwater lakes, fish form fish formations for two reasons: one, to avoid capture by the black ghost; two, to defend against attacks by large underwater predatory animals, because from a distance underwater the fish formation looks like a slowly moving black giant monster, enough to scare off any natural enemy; it could also be due to a sudden change in climate or environment that frightens the fish, causing them to band together for self‑protection.

Everyone ate something by the riverbank to regain strength for swimming, and meanwhile planned how to get past the fish formation beyond the crystal wall; this was quite a headache.

Shirley Yang took a sheet of paper and sketched the underwater situation described by Pangzi on it: the Gate of Disaster underwater has a passage seven or eight meters wide, about twenty meters long; beyond it the terrain is funnel‑shaped, narrow at the front and wide at the back. Tens of thousands of white‑bearded scaleless fish form a rolling‑barrel‑shaped fish formation at the mouth of the funnel, blocking the underwater route to the outside lake; once there you cannot pass. The white‑bearded fish is a special species found only in the waters of the Kalami'er region; its characteristics are large size, no scales, entirely bluish‑green, with only the whiskers and mouth snow‑white, hence its name. Pangzi said: "The white‑bearded fish beyond the Gate of Disaster vary in size, but on average each is over half a meter long. That huge fish formation rolls and tumbles, making it impossible to get through unless they disperse."

Shirley Yang said: "Although the white‑bearded fish do not harm people, their numbers are huge, and they themselves constitute a latent threat. When we pass through underwater, if anyone becomes isolated, the school could surround them and cut off contact with the rest of the team. We should find a way to disperse the fish formation beforehand, then we can get through."

I told everyone: "Since ancient times, fishermen who want to break a fish formation need a ghost commander to lead the way. But we are deep underground in Kunlun—where could we find a ghost commander? And even if such a ghost commander could be summoned, it probably couldn't deal with tens of thousands of white‑bearded fish each over half a meter long."

Uncle Ming and the others didn't know what a "ghost commander" was and asked for details. I had Pangzi explain it to them. Pangzi said, "Do you know what a black ghost is? It's not the nickname that people in Sichuan use for black pigs. In some fishing villages, fishermen raise a kind of large‑beaked water bird called a cormorant that can help dive underwater to catch fish, but they must first tie its neck with a rope; otherwise, once it catches a fish it will swallow it themselves. This water bird's colloquial name is black ghost."

Wherever people raise black ghosts to fish, whether in a lake or a river stretch, no matter how many cormorants there are, there must always be a lead bird called the ghost commander. The ghost commander is two to three times larger than an ordinary cormorant; its beak is fiercer than a steel hook, and its eyes shine brightly. It looks much like an eagle. Sometimes fishermen take a boat onto the lake to fish, but if for several consecutive days they fail to catch a single scale, that indicates the underwater fish have formed a fish formation. Then all the fishermen pool money and effort, burn incense and make offerings to the river god, and afterwards release the ghost commander into the water. No matter how thick the fish formation, it cannot withstand its three rushes and two dives, and it breaks apart and scatters.

But here the environment is exceptionally favorable, producing white‑bearded fish of enormous size, incomparable to the ordinary fish schools of inland lakes. When these fish swim, their force is enough to knock a person over; even a ghost commander probably couldn't disperse the fish formation here.

Taking advantage of Pangzi's plain‑spoken kung fu lesson to the group, I have made up my mind: since we have arrived at the gates of the Demon Kingdom, there is no reason to turn back. We have no ghost commander, but we do have explosives, enough to blast the fish school apart. However, to dive through the underwater passage we must all five go through at once, because I see that this huge Gate of Disaster is not a monolith; it is constructed from blocks of ice‑mountain crystal each several meters square, assembled by hand. Not only are the blocks covered with numerous graphic symbols, but there are many gaps between them, possibly scoured out by strong water flow, or perhaps deliberately left during construction to lessen the impact of the water's force on the wall. The explosives used to blast the fish formation must not be too few—too few would fail to scatter so many white‑bearded fish—but if too many, the shock wave will inevitably shatter part of the crystal wall. This massive wall is an ancient relic; disturbing it might trigger a chain reaction, causing the Gate of Disaster to collapse.

It is impossible to make an accurate calculation, but judging from the wall's structure, if the explosion affects the Gate of Disaster, it will produce a kind of wave effect; within two minutes, stones falling from the main wall will completely block the passage. Before that, there is about one and a half minutes that should be relatively safe, and only by seizing this moment before the wave effect spreads can we pass through the gate—and once we are through, there is no turning back by the same route.

I told everyone about the dangers we might face, especially letting Uncle Ming prepare himself mentally beforehand; if we regret it now, turning back is still possible, but once we enter the Gate of Disaster there is no way back.

Uncle Ming hesitated for half a day, then gritted his teeth and agreed to join us. We readied our equipment and went into the water. There were three oxygen tanks: Pangzi used one himself, and he would be the one to blast the fish formation; Shirley Yang and Axiang shared one; I and Uncle Ming used the third. Uncle Ming has spent most of his life sailing at sea, so he is highly skilled in the water—underwater he moves like an old fish. Axiang's swimming is average, but with Shirley Yang looking after her she will be perfectly safe.

The river water at the bottom of the Kalami'er Mountains is exceptionally unique—clear and white. There is hardly any aquatic plant life below; the most abundant creature is a transparent little shrimp that lives in the porous stone, forming a unique underwater ecosystem. Upon reaching the riverbed and turning on the searchlight, all we see is white light drifting everywhere, and the underwater stones are all white.

A vast expanse of bluish‑green crystal wall has a passage nearly ten meters wide. Shining an underwater searchlight forward, the water beyond appears very turbid, and countless white‑bearded fish link tail to tail, forming a fish wall that stretches without end. It is a magnificent sight, sealing off the river that leads outside. The flow speed seems not to have slowed because of this; perhaps deeper underground there are other branching water systems.

I, Uncle Ming, Shirley Yang, and Axiang waited at the cave entrance for the right moment, while Pangzi swam through the passage carrying the explosives. His silhouette quickly vanished into the turbid water before the fish formation, and after a long while he still hadn't returned. Perhaps underwater time feels distorted, each second seeming endless. I kept shining the searchlight that way, growing anxious, when I saw a flash of light in the water opposite—Pangzi came hurrying back.

Pangzi gestured while swimming back; he meant that placing the explosives was awkward, so he had lost time and the blast was imminent. At that moment Uncle Ming was also looking toward the passage entrance, and I quickly pushed his head down, reached out with my arm, and pulled the desperately swimming Pangzi toward me.

Almost at the same instant, the water shuddered, as if the crystal wall itself shook three times. A powerful blast shockwave, mixed with shredded fish flesh, spread outward in all directions. We lay flat against the wall base, and through our diving masks we could see a thick red mist rising from the Gate of Disaster. Nobody expected the explosion to be this strong; Pangzi spread his fingers sideways and said, "I probably put in a bit too much explosive."

Because time was pressing, as soon as the shockwave passed we surged upward. Wanting to rush through the passage as fast as possible, I lifted my head—but before I could see the condition inside the passage, my diving mask was struck, nearly breaking my nasal bone. I quickly ducked back behind the wall, where countless startled white‑bearded fish came flooding out of the passage. These large fish that had formed the fish formation were in an excited state; biologists would say they were in a 'self‑less' condition. At that moment, even if you killed one, it wouldn't feel pain, so it is hard to disturb them from the outside and make them scatter. But the powerful blast shockforce snapped them out of their trance, and they instantly broke formation, staring with dazed eyes and flailing wildly.

I had the same intention and was about to agree when I suddenly heard Shirley Yang urgently say: "No, that road's surface is too smooth; it's definitely not a man‑made path. It's been worn smooth by some beast passing over it year after year. Let's hurry over to that distant green rock and swim there—right now, quick, quick, quick… whatever you do, don't stop."