"It looks like we were right. They're all drowned ghosts..."
Yao Shunyu recalled the lotus pond he had seen the night before. The lush lotus flowers had all been an illusion—each one was actually a ghostly face with long, disheveled hair.
"So General Guo and the others weren't killed by Zhennan Hou in direct combat with weapons. They all drowned." Li Bai's breathing quickened. "It... it was that ship!"
"Exactly." Another image surfaced in Jiang Cheng's mind. "Do you remember what Zhu Jie and Tang Qisheng said? They saw countless figures behind a door on that ship, wailing and begging for help, desperately trying to open it. And that ship... was sinking the whole time."
A theory gradually took shape in Jiang Cheng's mind: somehow, Zhennan Hou had trapped General Guo and the others in the ship's hold. Then, under cover of night, he had scuttled the great vessel, sending them all to the cold depths of the lake.
But the next moment, the theory fell apart. One thing didn't add up. These people were disciples who could rip armor apart with their bare hands. How could an ordinary door possibly hold them back?
This wasn't the place to talk. Now that they had achieved their goal, the four of them planned to leave, but first they had to clean up the mess.
They began by reburying the coffin they had uncovered earlier. Then they returned to General Guo's grave, but before they could do anything, Jiang Cheng suddenly called for everyone to stop.
They had dug up the coffin, leaving mounds of soil scattered nearby. Jiang Cheng was staring intently at one spot on the dirt. The Fatty followed his gaze. The ground was covered in a jumble of shoeprints.
But the next moment, the Fatty's expression changed. Among