The skinny horse's hooves struck sparks from the gravel road. By the time Da Yajin reined it in, the rough knots of the reins had rubbed red marks into his palms.
Langhuan Mountain loomed ahead like a slumbering beast, its dark outline growing ever more ferocious in the twilight. There was none of the grass or vegetation one would expect at a mountain's foot—only layer upon layer of exposed Black Stone. Wind howled through the cracks, producing a mournful sound like ghosts weeping.
"Is this the place?"
Ma Er shrank his neck, keeping his voice extremely low. The moment he finished speaking, a bone-piercing chill wrapped around him. It did not come from the evening breeze, but seeped out from within the mountain itself, carrying a faint stench of blood.
Da Yajin swung down from his horse and pulled the charred bamboo slip from his bundle.
The words "Langhuan Mountain" on the fragment gave off a faint glow in the dusk. His fingertip brushed over the engraved marks reading "Evernight Turning Yang," and his brow furrowed tighter. "No mistake, this is it. But this Yin Energy... it's far too wicked."
Ge Yanbing had already drawn the short blade at his waist. Its tip pointed toward the mountain, and his gaze was sharp as an eagle's. "There isn't a trace of living creatures on the mountain. Not even the sound of insects."
Liu Shan circled behind a huge boulder, then quickly returned and whispered, "There are footprints behind the rock. They were left not long ago, heading toward the mountain's interior."
The group exchanged glances. Da Yajin stuffed the bamboo slip back into his bundle and raised a hand in a gesture for quiet steps. "Let's sneak in and take a look first. If anything feels wrong, retreat immediately."
The entrance