Chapter 220

Seeing Ming Shu's face, bleached white, I couldn't help but feel a jolt. As for what he said about someone behind the door, I didn't find it particularly frightening—worst case, soldiers come to block, water comes to flood. What I've worried about from beginning to end is Ming Shu's mental state. Since entering Tibet, one casualty after another has made him jumpy as a startled bird, and moreover, the name "Great Black Thunder Strike Mountain" happens to be one of his taboos. Although Ming Shu is also an old sailor who's weathered many great winds and waves, "suspiciousness" is his fatal weakness.

In this world, there are many things that cannot be blindly believed, yet cannot be entirely disbelieved either. But excessive superstition only brings unbearable mental pressure upon oneself. Even if one possesses greater abilities, they are still limited by one's own psychological pressure and cannot be exerted at all.

Now I can no longer judge whether Ming Shu's actions are real or fake. Perhaps he is just needlessly alarming himself, scaring himself. But to be safe, I did not go to the stone door to investigate.

Seeing that I intended to open the stone door, Ming Shu hurriedly said again: "Someone is behind the door—under no circumstances must you open it! Looking at it, that altar over there must not be approached. Hu Younger Brother, I think we should still try to find another way out."

I lifted my head, pushed Ming Shu aside, and said to him: "In a place where no living person has entered or exited for hundreds or thousands of years, how could there possibly be someone? Besides, we're currently walking along one path of Mount Hua—no matter what's inside, we have no choice but to take the risk and charge forward. Otherwise—" I originally wanted to tell Ming Shu that if we don't enter the altar today, the others might be fine, but you, this old fool, will surely die eight out of ten times. But then I reconsidered and decided not to say this, lest I give him more stimulation—perhaps he'd end up like Professor Chen, becoming mentally ill.

I persuaded Ming Shu with a few words, had him wait aside, then approached the underground stone door. Having entered the god temple inside the belly of this dead volcano so far, I still hadn't had a chance to examine this only entrance closely. Now, drawing near, I saw that this door, though not thick, was extremely ancient. At its base were sliding stone balls serving as an opening and closing mechanism. On the door were no extra decorations—only two giant human eyes carved in relief on the stone slab. The totem on the eyeballs can be said to appear everywhere in Jingjue City and Moluo Hai City, common and frequent. But the eye relief on this stone door is different from all others: previously seen eye totems were eyeballs without eyelids, whereas these eyes have their eyelids closed together.

The ancient people of the city believed the eyes were the source of reincarnation's power, but what did the closed-eye eye carving represent? At the time, I merely frowned slightly, didn't ponder its mystery further, and had already pulled open the stone door. Carefully, I protruded half my body to observe the movement beyond. Beyond the stone door was a long natural mountain cave, containing large amounts of rock crystals formed during volcanic activity, emitting a cold night glow. In the dark underground world, it resembled a winding white tunnel. The tunnel was not straight—tens of meters ahead it turned into a blind spot, making its length hard to judge.

Seeing that the cave behind the door, though somewhat strange, belonged to a very rare geological structure, but not as Ming Shu claimed—no half a person in sight? I thought Old Harbor Farmer must have truly suffered a mental breakdown. I was about to shrink back when suddenly, from the distant end of the white tunnel, came a slow footsteps sound.

This area around the stone door seems exceptionally good at conducting sound. Though the footsteps were distant, once my ears entered beyond the door, I heard them crystal clear—no mistake. That slow, deliberate stepping sound was made by a person's two legs. Possibly due to the terrain, it sounded especially heavy, as if bearing a thousand jin of force. With each footfall, my heart also trembled.

The thunderous footsteps came from far to near, the rhythm growing increasingly urgent, as if a giant were madly sprinting toward us from the end of the white tunnel. The footsteps shaking the earth terrified the soul. My heart raced, and an inexplicable fear surged from my heart—so overwhelming I could not restrain myself. I dared no longer to peek into the tunnel, hastily shrinking back. With a "bang," I forcefully shut the stone door tight, and the footsteps almost ceased at the same instant.

I exhaled deeply, noticing a layer of white sweat had already formed on my body. My mind raced and fluttered; even I couldn't understand why I had been so terrified by those footsteps. I silently cursed: "Damn it, I've actually seen a ghost!" There must be something in that cave.

I quickly calmed myself, regulated my breathing, and pressed my ear to the stone door to listen. Beyond, it was eerily silent—long and long, nothing unusual, as if the tunnel held only a void of silent emptiness, where no living thing existed.

Ming Shu stood behind me, obviously not having heard the footsteps, but seeing my expression, he knew my experience upon first pushing open the stone door must have been similar to his. Still, he asked: "What did you see?"

I thought: Now our group is exhausted, hungry, and someone is seriously injured—we're at the end of our strength. Before we can rest and regroup, we can't do much. Although the stone door seems off, as long as we keep it closed, we're still relatively safe inside this volcano's belly. Better not speak of it for now, lest we cause panic among the group. Let any problems wait until after we've eaten our fill. So I shook my head at Ming Shu, indicating nothing was wrong, pretending everything was normal, grabbed his arm, and dragged him back to where Pangzi was roasting lizards.

Pangzi now couldn't leave nor stay. Anxious, his eyes full of red lines, he sat by the fire and again launched into talk about names and fate, the superstition of place names and their karmic causes, urging me to lead the group away early from this "Great Black Thunder Strike Mountain."

I remained unmoved, only focused on eating to fill my stomach. But Ming Shu seemed possessed, talking on and on. He first mentioned several famous modern events. Seeing I had no reaction, he went further and further, finally speaking of the sixth year of Zhou Shizong's reign during the Later Zhou, when Chai Rong led his great army north to attack the Liao, aiming to take Youzhou. The true Son of Heaven, the dragon emperor, personally led the campaign, morale soared, and with the army's divine speed, the Khitan military and civilians up and down were all panicked. The Liao troops fled at the sight of the wind, fleeing all night. The Zhou forces advanced like a bamboo splitter, capturing two prefectures and three passes in succession: Mo Prefecture, Ying Prefecture, Yu Guan Pass, Wa Qiao Pass, Yi Jin Pass. It seemed Youzhou could be recovered—yet unexpectedly, when passing Wa Qiao Pass, Chai Rong climbed high to observe the six armies, saw the mighty array of the three armies, his dragon face lit with joy. Locals had many people lining the road to welcome him. Zhou Shizong Chai Rong, seeing the treacherous terrain here, occupied the strategic position. Then he asked a local elder: "What is this place called?" The reply: "Through generations, it has been called Binglong Tai." Chai Rong heard this name, his expression immediately turned solemn. That very night he fell ill and could not rise, forced to abandon the favorable situation and retreat, losing the chance to recover Youzhou. And he himself fell ill on the return journey and died. See how this name relates to fortune and misfortune—

I listened to Ming Shu talk for a long time. Some things I hadn't heard of, but they seemed true. Yet this was probably just psychological effect—there's a saying: "When a state accumulates virtue, one may live to ten billion years; when one does good deeds, one may enjoy a long life." Even ancient emperors were still called "Ten Thousand Years." But I've never seen anyone live past a hundred—clearly, it's all bullshit. I felt I could no longer let Ming Shu keep talking. We listeners had no heart in it, he the speaker had intention, the result only made his nerves more tense. So I gave Pangzi a look, signaling him to stuff a piece of meat into Ming Shu's mouth.

Pangzi understood, immediately handing Ming Shu a piece of meat that had been somewhat roasted: "Climbing snow mountains without drinking butter tea is like an eagle breaking a wing... Of course we can't drink butter tea here, but this meat is still chewy enough. I say, Ming Shu, you old man also shouldn't overthink—stop using your brains so much, just grit your molars and chew. Eat your fill, then we can hit the road."

Ming Shu said to Pangzi: "Fatty, you wouldn't speak if you didn't know—don't talk nonsense, okay? What do you mean 'eat your fill and then we can go'? That's practically eating executioner's meal—who could stomach that...?" But once he took the meat in hand, smelled its aroma, and indeed felt very hungry, he stopped mid-sentence and began biting into it with big mouthfuls. Looking at his broken-pot, broken-bowl attitude, he truly seemed to have let go—whether live or die, leave it to fate, tragic and heroic.

I understood in my heart that if a person experiences great emotional swings in a short time, it's certainly not a good omen. But here and now, I could only anxiously wait, though I had no curse. Still, at least Ming Shu had been somewhat stabilized. Taking advantage of the moment, I went to consult SHINLY Yang about strategy.

SHINLY Yang was tending to Axiang's wounds—the turtle shell indeed had remarkable effect, Axiang's wound had already healed in a short time, but due to excessive blood loss, she was extremely weak, and now lay in a daze, asleep.

I told SHINLY Yang about the stone door leading to the altar. Regarding the white tunnel beyond the stone door, SHINLY Yang had never heard of it before. In all previously collected materials, there was no mention of this passage. But one could infer: this Kalamir region must have something special about it; otherwise, the Moluo Hai people wouldn't have deliberately built the ghost cave's altar here. Our discussion was inconclusive. It seems for now, we can only rest a few hours, then enter the white tunnel, take it step by step. Besides that, there's little room for choice.

Thus everyone ate their fill, then rested in rotation according to the prior arrangement. After eating, Ming Shu wasn't as talkative—he laid down and slept. But everyone had things on their minds, so after only four hours, no one could sleep anymore. SHINLY Yang, after Axiang woke up, gave her something to eat. I redistributed the remaining weapons. Pangzi turned in Ming Shu's MI911 pistol to SHINLY Li. Only then did I realize we had only three pistols left, one rifle gone, and ammunition was pitifully scarce—average twenty-odd rounds per person. Guns without ammunition were no better than fire sticks. The loss of weapons and equipment far exceeded expectations, casting a gloomy shadow over the path ahead.

By now, all we could do was reassure ourselves that we couldn't possibly fail to pass the Flaming Mountain, grit our teeth, and press forward. SHINLY Yang looked at the tightly closed eye carvings on the stone door, thought for a long time, but had no clue. So everyone respectively disengaged the safety on their weapons, keeping them ready to fire at any moment. Then we pulled the stone door backward to open it. But having learned from past experience, no one dared to step even half a pace beyond the thunder pool line. We still stood outside the door, peeking at the movement within. Beyond the door, in the tunnel, aside from a faint white glow deep in the cave, there was no other movement.

This time, pulling the stone door completely out of the doorway, I discovered the back of the door also bore a closed-eye eye relief, plus some strange eyeball-shaped patterns. Both sections were closed-eye in form, divided into two compartments: one for the eye open, one for the eye closed. In the open-eye section, the background had an additional blurry black human silhouette. I looked at it, half-understanding, half-not—it seemed its record was precisely the secret of this natural tunnel.

SHINLY Yang glanced at it a few times and immediately understood: "Too dangerous—luckily we didn't recklessly rush in just now. This natural tunnel formed by crystalline minerals is exactly the legendary Great Black Thunder Strike Mountain. It is the sole road into the Moluo Hai City altar, with no branches. Anyone who enters must close their eyes to pass through; if one opens their eyes in the tunnel, then... something terrible will happen."

I asked SHINLY Li: In this white crystalline tunnel, if one opens their eyes, what exactly will happen? SHINLY Yang said: Who knows? The content on the stone door only serves as a warning—very vague, very blurry. Human eyes will release the tunnel's evil god; as for what exactly one will see upon opening their eyes, the stone door has no related record.

SHINLY Yang thought a moment and added: The legend says Great Black Thunder Strike Mountain is an evil spirit controlling minerals—of course, this is just myth. Roughly speaking, it's like the snow avalanche god's crystal naturally forming this tunnel—likely a crystalline rock containing some special exotic element. The human body hides many secrets, especially the eyes. There exists in human eyes a certain weak bioelectric current—for example, some people are extremely sensitive to others' gazes; even when stared at from behind, they sometimes sense it. This subtle sensation comes from this. I think this white tunnel is certainly not simple—perhaps once one opens their eyes in it, they will be affected by the energy of those elements, producing some effect: mild—loss of intellect; severe—possibly costing one's life.

SHINLY Yang's meaning is: if one wants to enter the tunnel, one must ensure not to open their eyes before reaching the altar; otherwise, the consequences are unimaginable. I think she's considering this from a scientific angle, though inevitably somewhat subjective and arbitrary. But regardless of what Great Black Thunder Strike Mountain actually is, to pass through smoothly, it's best to follow the ancient rules.

Closing one's eyes equals losing vision. Passing through the tunnel in such a state is extremely dangerous, and moreover, no one has ever had this experience before. But after discussion, we still decided to try the adventure—led by Pangzi, who unloaded the rifle's ammunition and turned it upside down to use as a blind man's cane. Ming Shu and Axiang walked in the relatively safe middle, since no mountain climbing or water crossing was needed, Axiang could barely walk on her own. SHINLY Yang and I brought up the rear. I was still worried someone couldn't bear the psychological pressure of darkness and might open their eyes midway, thus dragging the whole group down. So before entering the stone door, I taped each person's eyes shut with adhesive tape—then we set off.

Due to lack of sufficient rope, we could only have those behind hold the shoulders of those in front, five people linked in a line, tightly gripping the left side of the tunnel, feeling our way forward step by step. I silently counted steps, while Ming Shu began to grow tense again, chattering nonstop. I thought letting him keep talking might help—now we're all like blind men, only constant talking and tactile sensation through our hands can let us sense each other's presence.

This time, walking into the tunnel with eyes closed, we did not hear the terrifying footsteps from deep within. SHINLY Yang said that in the underground of Colorado's Grand Canyon, there is also a type of crystal stone that can produce sound on its own—inside it, sounds are myriad: natural sounds like wind, rain, thunder, lightning; also human weeping and laughter, beast roars and howls. But one must press the ear to it to hear—called "sound-moving stone." This tunnel might also contain such material, interfering with human hearing.

Humans may have an innate fear of darkness. As we walked, we spoke and reminded each other not to open our eyes, sharing some of the psychological pressure from losing sight. But no one knew how far the tunnel's end was. After walking a hundred-odd steps in fits and starts, the damp, foul smell in the tunnel gradually thickened, the cold air on the walls pressed in. I recalled the first time I peered from the stone door entrance inward—suddenly I felt an overwhelming fear, possibly due to this environment. Now, walking with eyes closed, I still felt apprehension, though not as strong as when looking inward. But as we stepped deeper, that feeling gradually intensified, making the whole person feel extremely oppressed.

At this point, Pangzi up front began to curse, complaining that in this tunnel, every single hair on his body felt twisted. Originally I thought only I had this feeling, but actually everyone felt the same—it was a very strange sensation.

Only then did Ming Shu say: "Miss Yang, you just said the feeling of being stared at makes one uncomfortable—I seem to have that feeling too. Do you all feel like there are many people staring dead at us, up, down, left, right—like someone is there?"

I heard SHINLY Yang ahead of me say: "Yes, there is such a feeling, but I hope it's merely an illusion caused by not seeing anything... However, this cave really does seem to have something."

At this moment, some movement appeared around us. Listening to the sound, it was actually the noise of a poisonous snake slithering and flicking its tongue. We involuntarily stopped moving forward. I felt numbness in my fingers—don't know if it's because I'd been resting my hand on SHINLY Yang's shoulder too long, causing soreness and numbness. Suddenly I had a bad thought: terrible—first, vision was forcibly restricted; then hearing, smell, and touch also became abnormal. After entering the tunnel, our five senses are gradually disappearing.