Chapter 85: Strange Architecture

Suddenly, his movement jerked to a halt, and he turned his head, staring fixedly at the half-buried kettle in the soil.

That symbol… damn familiar! I feel like I've seen it somewhere before!

Right! That metal disc! It also seems to have similar demonic scribbles etched on it! Though the details differ a bit, the feeling, the style—definitely matches!

Could it be… this broken kettle was left by Lin Yan? Or perhaps, before him, or even earlier, others came to this damned place and left something linked to Lin Yan, to the beacon, and even to that sinister power within his body?

This discovery made Zhang Jun's heart jump heavily.

The urgent task is to start a fire, letting Lin Xue recover fully. Then… we'll talk later.

He gathered some relatively dry moss and a few small chunks of unknown-age wood, forced a bit of controlled heat from his fingertips, and ignited the fuel.

The flames sprang up, crackling softly, bringing a bit of precious warmth and light to the icy cave.

The firelight illuminated Zhang Jun's dust-covered, weary profile.

"Awake?"

Zhang Jun's voice was low, lacking his usual vigor, with a hint of hoarseness hard to notice.

Lin Xue's lashes fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes.

She tried moving her fingers; her whole body remained limp and weak, but the icy, despairing helplessness had indeed lessened considerably.

"I…" her throat dry and hoarse, like sandpaper, "Am I still alive?"

"Nonsense." Zhang Jun retorted, but his tone clearly softened considerably, even carrying a hint of awkwardness he himself didn't notice, "You won't die. King Yama doesn't welcome your ice‑block face; he'd hate freezing his oil pot."

Lin Xue tugged weakly at the corner of her mouth, trying to smile but lacking strength. She saw she was covered in a tattered coat that still held someone's warmth, and a faint herbal scent lingered at her nose.

"Was it… you who saved me?" Her voice was soft, tinged with uncertainty.

Zhang Jun didn't look at her, tossing a dry branch he'd picked up onto the fire; the flames rose higher, casting his half‑face in alternating light and shadow. "Don't get full of yourself." His voice still sounded stiff, "I don't want to owe anyone. That cloned Wang Jun, before he died, even had me watch you ignite, so you wouldn't die too fast."

Lin Xue said nothing. She knew Zhang Jun was being stubborn, didn't press further, and just quietly watched his profile. In the firelight his outline was hard, a stubble of bluish beard on his chin, his gaze fixed on the flames—unlike the jumpy, easily‑explosive guy she remembered.

Perhaps after all this, he really has changed—not just in strength, but… as a person.

"What is that?" she asked weakly.

Zhang Jun then turned his head and handed her the icy metal kettle. "You mean this? Found it in the cave." He lowered his voice, as if fearing to disturb something, "It might… be a clue to getting out of this damned place."

Lin Xue took the kettle; its icy touch made her fingertips instinctively retract. By the firelight she examined the strange symbol on the kettle's base, her brows slowly knitting.

"This mark…" she muttered softly, doubtful, "I feel like… I've seen it somewhere."

"You've seen it too?" Zhang Jun snapped his head toward her, his voice betraying undisguised urgency.

Lin Xue shook her head, then hesitantly nodded, her expression dazed. "I can't recall… it feels like long ago, somewhere I saw a similar pattern… very vague…"

"No worries, take your time." His voice softened, with a hint of gentleness he himself didn't notice, "You'll remember eventually. As long as… you stay alive."

Lin Xue lifted her head, looking at him. Her gaze was complex—wary, perhaps with a hint of reliance she herself wasn't aware of.

"Mm, alive." She repeated it softly, her tone a bit heavier than before, "Let's survive together."

"Survive together."

Lin Xue's voice was light and airy, yet it struck Zhang Jun's chest like a stone.

He no longer paid attention to the leaping flames, propped himself on the ground and stood up.

His joints, somewhat numb from the cold, emitted light creaking sounds.

He glanced sideways at Lin Xue.

"Can you move?"

Lin Xue leaned against the slick, icy stone wall and staggered upright.

Her calves still trembled; each shift made her viscera feel weakly swaying along.

She clenched her molars and nodded.

"Yes."

Zhang Jun said no more, his movements somewhat stiff as he rewrapped the tattered coat around her tightly and shoved the icy metal kettle into her arms.

"Hold on. It might actually be a way out."

He bent down, brought his face close to the ground, and examined carefully.

The wind and snow at the cave mouth were about to bury all traces, yet he still caught some very faint, odd marks—as if something had long worn them down, regular, pointing to a dark corner deep in the cave.

In that corner, the cold wind wrapped in snow nearly blocked a narrow, upward stone fissure.

Zhang Jun reached in, probing the stone wall; his fingertips felt bone‑chilling cold, plus… a sense of artificial smoothing.

"Here."

He brushed away the snow, revealing several steps buried under thick ice, worn smooth so their original appearance was indiscernible.

One behind the other, they climbed the steep, slippery stone steps.

Knife‑like cold wind scraped their faces, making them sting.

Lin Xue truly had no strength left; her feet slipped several times, she was about to tumble down, but Zhang Jun, quick‑eyed and quick‑handed, grabbed her arm each time.

His palm was hot; the heat transmitted straight through the layers of cloth, steady beyond measure.

Lin Xue didn't shake him off, nor utter a sound, just being half‑dragged, half‑pulled upward by him.

At the top of the steps lay a slightly wider little platform, as if forcibly set into a massive glacier crevice.

Before the platform jutted the ruins of a tiny, indescribably styled structure made of strange stone.

Most of it was buried under ice and snow; only a few broken stone pillars and a collapsed corner of eave were visible, the latter carved with vague, odd patterns that resembled the symbol on the kettle's base yet differed slightly.

The place was deathly silent, save for the wooing sound of wind whistling through ice cracks—lonely and eerie.

"What… what damned place is this?" Lin Xue gasped heavily, her voice trembling badly, unable to tell if it was from cold or fear.

Zhang Jun didn't respond.

He tensed all his focus, vigilantly scanning the surroundings.

The air carried a stench of something long left to rot, plus… a faint, faint hint of a living creature's movement.

Something's off.

Just as that thought arose, several pitch‑black shadows seemed to materialize out of thin air, silently leaping out from behind the nearby ice wall!

They were terrifyingly fast, their aim unmistakable, and they lunged straight at the two of them!