Chapter 320: Eight Seconds

Sure enough, Fang Chuanzong still had something held back.

"The drone's last descent into the tower was three months ago," Fang Chuanzong said. "The last image it captured was when it had just entered the second underground level; a blood spot suddenly appeared on the lens, then that blood spot began to split in multiples, and within a few seconds the drone was completely corroded."

Afterward, we sent down three more drones in succession, and the corrosion speed kept getting faster; blood spots were visible everywhere… and this situation had also appeared in the files of the Special Affairs Handling Office.

This time, all three of us present gasped in shock.

I calmed myself and asked, "Has it happened before? Where?"

"In Lingnan," Fang Chuanzong said. "It was also in a local Buddhist tower where many people died, including several eminent monks; finally, Dahui Chan Master stepped forward and sealed that tower together with the monastery."

"Lingnan…… Dahui Chan Master…… Lingnan Black Widow……"

As the clues linked together, what came rushing at us was not only fear, but also sudden realization.

Sure enough, Shi Rou's appearance was no coincidence.

She accompanied Jin Wuya to Wufu Town, the car stopping at Xijiekou; although she didn't get out or speak, … she had been here!

This shows the attitude of the Lingnan side.

Adding to that, the Soul‑Piercing… the Soul‑Piercing was sent by Jin Wuya, but the real effort behind it came from the Lingnan Shi Family; this huge favor, the Shi Family has already thrown at me… no, there's still missing information.

On what grounds does the Shi Family throw this favor at me?

Even Jin Wuya's slight favor would be greater than that of a stranger I've never met, right?

So what the Shi Family actually values is Dahui Chan Master's face.

In other words, what they truly want to befriend is Liu Junyan!

"Hey, Xiao Jiu Zhanggui, are you listening?"

Fang Chuanzong's voice came through, breaking our silence here, and I quickly replied, "Old Fang, I'm listening."

Fang Chuanzong said, "After we hang up, I'll send you all the information we've gathered about the first underground level of that tower; if you need anything later, just let me know—I'll participate fully and do my utmost to cooperate."

"Old Fang," I asked again, "you still haven't told me who founded the Dang Pu?"

Fang Chuanzong said, "I haven't given you a definite answer because we're not even sure whether the name we found is correct; I can only tell you that it was an evil monk, dharma name Tanlun."

I quickly asked, "Are there any records about Tanlun?"

"None, I've searched through all the materials I could access and found nothing." Fang Chuanzong said, "He gives me the feeling of… appearing out of nowhere and disappearing just as mysteriously—very strange."

Indeed, very strange.

I thought it over and then said, "Old Fang, besides the data on that tower, I also need all the data on the Lingnan Shi Family, as well as all the data on the monastery in Lingnan where the incident occurred years ago."

Fang Chuanzong paused, then sounded somewhat surprised: "So Xiao Jiu Zhanggui has already looked into the Lingnan Shi Family?"

I did not deny it.

Since we need to cooperate, there's no need to hide anything.

After hanging up, Fang Chuanzong gave me a website and a password, etc., telling me these are confidential files that must not be leaked, that each person logging in has a separate account and password, and urging me to be careful.

That day, the three of us shut the door and studied for a long time in Hui Moqiong's room.

First we opened a video that had undergone various synthesis, processing, and encryption.

The moment the video opened, we were stunned by the image before us.

That was the first level beneath the tower, about five to six meters high, the tower body slightly conical, narrower at the top and wider at the bottom, with very dim lighting.

The light in the video came from two sources: one was the drone's own light, the other was the oil lamp lit inside the tower.

Scattered across the tower body were about a dozen semi‑arched caves, each with a monk sitting cross‑legged, an oil lamp lit before him, its light as faint as a bean.

These monks had their eyes closed, heads slightly bowed, holding prayer beads, as if meditating and chanting sutras—devout and tranquil.

Their skin was tight and lustrous, making them look merely in deep meditation, but I couldn't therefore judge whether they were alive or dead.

Back when I first saw Dahui Chan Master's mummified remains in the high tower of Songshan Valley, the situation was actually quite similar to what we see now.

But Dahui Chan Master had already passed away into mummification.

The first‑level footage was too tranquil, so still that we even wondered if the video had frozen.

But just as Hui Moqiong reached out to adjust it, the picture suddenly went dark.

Here, the picture is clearly spliced, because the time in the upper‑left corner changed.

The picture was cut to ten o'clock at night.

The oil lamps in the caves all went out at once, leaving everything pitch black.

Yet amid that darkness came sounds of painful groaning.

The drone's light source was too weak, and its signal seemed interfered with, making the capturable image especially blurry.

Yet in that blurry, dim image we could still make out that the monks' bodies in the caves were struggling and twisting, they were groaning in pain… their crossed legs seemed nailed to the cave floor, unable to move.

This process lasted a long time.

At a fleeting moment, Hui Moqiong suddenly reached out, pressed pause, then nudged the frame back bit by bit, adjusting several times before he said, "Look, here!"

Only then did I and Li Qingying see the frame that Hui Moqiong had captured and frozen: in the lowest cave, that eminent monk raised his neck, howling in pain, and on his neck a faint white scale armor stained with blood could be seen…

Li Qingying pointed to the prominent veins bulging on the monk's face and the Visible to the Naked Eye throbbing blood vessels, exclaiming, "They're actually still alive!"

I replied, "Yes, they're still alive, but this one below is probably dead now."

Hui Moqiong tapped the phone screen once, and the video continued playing.

Sure enough, shortly thereafter, the monk whose neck had shown the white scale armor saw the blood spots in the armor's cracks multiply and spread to other parts of his body.

Eight seconds!

In just eight seconds total, that monk had turned into a pool of blood.

The drone's image was still descending; after a noticeable jolt, it successfully reached the second underground level.

At that moment a blood spot appeared on the screen… the scene Fang Chuanzong had described over the phone unfolded before our eyes without warning.

The drone was destroyed, the video ended, the picture popped up automatically, and we three were petrified on the spot.

Hui Moqiong wiped a layer of fine sweat from his forehead, feeling a lingering fear: "Good thing I didn't act rashly last night and smash the tower directly; otherwise, you might never see me again……"