“We’ve explored a lot of the route here and almost got to the end last time,” Lu Shijiu explained. “This time, we should be able to leave.” After saying so, he cocked his head, signaling for them to follow.
Xuanmin observed them for a moment before starting after them. As he walked, he nodded at Jiang Shining and Lu Nianqi. “Stay behind me.”
The two of them obeyed, trailing behind him like a little tail, nervous yet also reluctant to get too close, lest they step on his snow-white monk’s robe.
Lu Nianqi’s face was full of indignation still, so Jiang Shining tried to console him. “Your brother must be exhausted. He’s probably tried to find a way out many times. Look at his robe—it’s wet and starting to dry. It must have been soaked and still heavy. He’s conserving the strength he needs to walk. That’s why he’s speaking as little as possible.”
Looking down at the wet marks on the ground, Lu Nianqi snorted in response, but he forced down his frustrated expression.
Lu Shijiu stopped in front of another stone door and placed his hand upon it. He stared at it, then blinked once. “It might be a little dangerous. Remember to follow me.”
At the same time Lu Shijiu blinked, Lu Nianqi couldn’t help doing the same. Shaking his head, he rubbed hard at his eyes as if to wipe something away.
Xuanmin caught this out of the corner of his eye. “What’s wrong?”
“My vision got blurry all of a sudden,” said Lu Nianqi. He blinked hard and mumbled, “It’s better now. It doesn’t matter. We need to get out of here first.”
Xuanmin observed the scabs on Lu Nianqi’s forehead and then looked at Lu Shijiu.
Jiang Shining followed Xuanmin’s gaze and glanced back and forth between the two. The scholar suddenly felt like something was wrong.
Just when he was about to pinpoint the reason, Lu Shijiu shoved open the stone door. The hollow rumble of the door grinding open echoed through the hall, and the talisman paper in Xuanmin’s hand flared before blinking out without warning.
With their surroundings plunged into darkness, everyone halted. Jiang Shining and Lu Nianqi gasped, and their breath caught in their throats, where it stayed—they were too afraid to exhale.
A cold wind surged through the open stone door, carrying with it a strange, indescribable stench that was damp and full of decay, chilling enough for goose bumps to erupt over their skin. Even Xue Xian, still boiling away, felt it somewhat.
For him, the chilly wind was a welcome relief for his overheated mind. However, it was only a temporary one, a superficial stopgap that didn’t address the underlying symptoms. As soon as the wind passed, he began bubbling once more. Such intense heat would render an ordinary person’s mind incapable of functioning, and Xue Xian was no exception.
Rocking back and forth within the pouch, he simmered in a dreamlike state as he wondered how to free himself, even if only to catch a breath. At that moment, he had little care for his own dignity, and he groused to himself that Xuanmin hadn’t reached in and let Xue Xian cool himself against his fingers.
With his mind this useless, Xue Xian’s mouth moved as he complained internally, leading him to mutter all of his subconscious thoughts, though they came out slurred thanks to his daze. Rather like the repetitive mumblings of a senile old woman, he echoed the same phrases without variation.
Once the cold wind passed and the flame went out, Jiang Shining and the others held their breaths. The room was deathly silent as they stood as straight and rigid as wooden planks.
That was when Xue Xian’s incessant mumblings drifted through the air, accompanied by the chilling wind. The effect was quite potent.
“Wh-what is that sound?” Lu Nianqi asked. “Wh-where is it coming from?”
“Master, can you light another flame?” came Jiang Shining’s anxious voice.
The sudden darkness had enshrouded everyone’s figures; it was as if all their companions had been swallowed, leaving each one of them alone. It was said that when silence reached an extreme at night, one’s senses would grow disoriented. Faraway noises would seem to be in your ear, making it difficult to discern distance and direction.
When Xuanmin first heard the mumbling, his hand paused on the paper. After a moment, he realized that the dazed murmur was coming from the pouch at his waist. What was that evil spirit up to now?
Xuanmin frowned as he listened, only to realize that Xue Xian was muttering a single phrase over and over again like a hornet’s incessant buzz: “Bald donkey.”
What’s this about? Xuanmin wondered.
At a loss, he chose to ignore Xue Xian and pulled out a new sheet of talisman paper, lighting it once more. But the moment the flame flickered to life, another gust blew past, and the light vanished.
“Don’t waste your time. It won’t stay on.” Lu Shijiu’s voice was dull as he gathered his strength to shove hard against the stone door.
In contrast to the all-consuming blackness swallowing them, the chamber behind the door glowed with a faint, ethereal light. This light was soft and feeble, like a fine dusting of frost sprinkled over charcoal wood, barely illuminating the silhouettes of those present.
Lu Shijiu, at the head of the party, said no more. He simply walked inside. Xuanmin patted the tireless murmurer at his waist, then told Jiang Shining and Lu Nianqi without looking back, “Stay close.”
He, too, stepped through the tomb door.
Jiang Shining and Lu Nianqi, afraid of being left behind, dashed after them.
As Lu Nianqi walked, he felt something beneath his foot like a small pebble. He stumbled slightly while a loud roar echoed from the stone door grinding shut behind them. The rumbling shook him right to the core, and he almost turned tail and ran right then and there.
Despite some dim lighting, the chamber remained dark and dismal. The size of the place was impossible to gauge, nor could they discern what lay at their feet, the surroundings enveloping them, or whether anything loomed overhead.
“Wait, are those holes up there?” Jiang Shining interjected, pointing up.
The stone chamber was soundless, and his words echoed multiple times, causing him to freeze in place. His hand remained pointed at the ceiling as he quailed, too terrified to move.
“Keep your voice down,” Lu Shijiu said quietly.
With his whispering, the echoes faded, and the chamber felt less empty and eerie.
Xuanmin looked up to see seven tiny holes drilled into the ceiling. He reached out into the void above them.
“They’re not holes,” he said. If they had been, the wind wouldn’t have blown in that direction. “Night pearls,” he declared. He studied the luminescent pearls for a while, then added, “Exactly seven of them. Their positions match the Ursa Major constellation.”