The team trekked through the vast, barren reaches of Xianchi.
The ground was covered in soft, fine sand mixed with fragments of bone that had accumulated for who knew how many years. Their footsteps made an unpleasant rustling sound.
The sky grew darker and darker, with heavy clouds hanging so low they seemed within reach.
The air was filled with an increasingly dense aura of death, mingled with rot and dust.
The short guide had dark skin and a face full of wrinkles. His name was Old Zhou.
The sun was about to sink completely below the horizon.
He stopped, took a filthy cloth bundle from his robes, and carefully opened it.
Inside were several black, rough-skinned things shaped like sweet potatoes, though much darker in color.
"Everyone, we need to eat this before it gets dark."
Old Zhou's voice was hoarse and thick with a local accent as he raised one of the black lumps.
"This is called Gray Garlic, made using a local folk remedy."
"Eat it, and it'll mask the scent of the living on us, so those things underground won't smell us as easily. Otherwise, once night falls, this place will get lively."
As he spoke, he broke off a small piece and stuffed it into his mouth. He chewed a few times without even frowning, clearly long accustomed to it.
The others looked at one another, all hesitant as they stared at the horribly unappetizing Gray Garlic.
He Yu was the first to take a piece. To find Zhang Xiaohou as quickly as possible, she was willing to try anything.
She took a small bite, and her expression instantly became extraordinarily vivid. She barely managed not to spit it out.
Mo Fan took one as well. Imitating Old Zhou, he broke off a piece and