Night Visit to the Buddhist Temple, Snakes, Bugs, Mosquitoes, and Ants

"And keep an eye on what the tomb raiders sell. Don't let it end up in foreign hands."

Third Master Cao added one last point.

"Senior Cao."

Qin Geng bowed respectfully.

Celestial Official or earthly official, it made no difference. A man who drew a government salary and still carried the smell of grave dirt had to know his trade.

"That's everything, then."

Lu Xingmin clapped his hands, tucked the last paper figure into the black case, and slung it onto his back.

"Xiao Wu, before we head into the mountains, I need to go over the rules with you again."

Lu Xingmin's smile vanished. "We'll lead the way in, and you follow. But when we come out, it'll be pitch-black. We might even be running for our lives. That's when we'll be counting on you."

"If we run into anything at night, or if a fight breaks out, we'll take the front."

Lu Xingmin pointed to himself, then to Miaoxuan and the Cao uncle and nephew. "Whatever it is, you don't step in front unless every last one of us is dead. Just remember the way and lead us back at a run. That's your job."

A chill went through Qin Geng. He nodded hard. "Understood. As long as I'm still breathing, I'll get you back."

They had hired him as their driver for precisely those abilities: [Old Horse Knows the Way] and [Step-Sensing Danger].

"Right, then."

Third Master Cao glanced at the sky. The sun had already set, leaving only a smear of dark red afterglow along the horizon, like a streak of blood that had yet to dry.

"It's about time."

Third Master Cao tucked the half-length Luoyang shovel into his belt, and his whole bearing changed in an instant.

A moment ago, he had looked like a shopkeeper keen to turn a profit. Now he was an old wolf that had caught the scent of prey, his gaze cold and sharp.

"Let's go."

At Third Master Cao's low command, he set off first toward the narrow cleft of Heaven-Reaching Gate.

Cao Xiaoliu followed close behind. He still looked carefree, but his hand had moved to the bulging leather pouch at his waist.

Qin Geng took a deep breath and, without another word, stayed close behind Cao Xiaoliu.

Lu Xingmin carried the black case, while Daoist Miaoxuan held the Peachwood Sword. The two brought up the rear.

The five of them filed into Heaven-Reaching Gate.

As the mountain shadows swallowed the last sunlight, Qin Geng felt the temperature around him plunge, as though he had stepped straight from warm spring into bitter winter.

The level dirt track beneath his feet gave way to a rugged path of uneven stone.

Qin Geng set his foot on the ground.

But what came back through his sole was not a sense of solid footing. It was a faint... agitation.

It was as though the Earth Veins beneath the mountain were churning uneasily.

Qin Geng said nothing. He quickened his pace and kept close behind the Cao uncle and nephew, and before long his figure vanished into the thick dusk of Bell Mountain.

Deep in Bell Mountain, the trees blotted out the sky. What little light remained was cut off entirely after nightfall.

Darkness closed around them like a sealed coffin. Only the rustle of dry leaves beneath their feet broke the deathly stillness of the forest, each step grating on the ear.

Third Master Cao walked at the front.

Away from his pawnshop counter, the old man was more nimble in the woods than a monkey.

He carried no lantern or torch. Relying only on eyes long accustomed to burrowing underground, he picked his way ahead over the uneven ground.

"Hold up."

Third Master Cao stopped abruptly and drew a blackened earthenware jar from his robe. He lifted the lid, and a pungent, fishy stench spread at once.

It smelled like fish and shrimp left to rot for decades, mixed with old corpse oil.

"Put some on."

With two unusually long fingers, Third Master Cao scooped out a dollop and spread it over his forehead, neck, and wrists. Then he passed the jar to Cao Xiaoliu behind him.

"Yin runs thick in these mountains. The snakes, bugs, rats, and ants have all turned uncanny, and they'll swarm you the moment they smell a living person. This Earth Dragon Balm reeks, but it masks the scent of the living and keeps foul things away."

Everyone did as he said.

Holding back a gag at the sickening smell, Qin Geng rubbed some onto his temples and wrists.

The moment the balm touched his skin, a piercing cold sank in, as though a sheet of chilled iron had been laid over him. The lingering heat in his body vanished, and even his heartbeat seemed to slow by a few beats.

Once everyone had applied it, they moved on.

They walked for two full hours.

Qin Geng stayed in the middle of the group. He looked as though he was trudging along with his head down, but every nerve in his mind was drawn taut.

Each step they had taken, every turn, every raised tree root was rapidly being drawn into a detailed map in his mind.

It was a strange sensation.

He even knew that if they turned back right now, he could shave three paces off the route at one point and avoid a loose stone at another.

If he wanted to go back, this maze of dark woods could not trap him.

At last, Third Master Cao stopped.

The others looked up. Ahead, where the trees thinned, a dark building loomed.

It was a Buddhist Temple fallen into utter ruin.

Half the courtyard wall had collapsed, exposing the weeds running wild inside.

The mountain gate hung crooked. Where a signboard should have been, there was only an empty space, like a toothless mouth silently grinning at them.

There was no scent of incense, only an indefinable reek of mold and rot, mingled with the faintest hint of rust—or blood.

Qin Geng instinctively started to step forward. But just before his foot touched the ground, a needle-sharp pain shot from his sole straight to the crown of his head.

[Step-Sensing Danger]!

Qin Geng pulled his foot back almost by instinct, every muscle in his body going taut.

"There's something terribly dangerous in there."

Qin Geng kept his voice low. The gravity in it left no room for doubt.

"It's all right," Lu Xingmin said. "We're not going in."

"Is this the place?"

Third Master Cao tapped the bowl of his pipe. He did not light it, only turned it in his hand out of habit, his old eyes fixed on the depths of the ruined temple.

"This is it. No mistake."

Lu Xingmin lowered his voice. "The foreigners left all their things here. I've scouted the place three or four times. Last time, a paper figure pinned down this location. I didn't expect that corpse to follow the paper figure back to me."

He paused, pulled a paper cutout from the black case on his back, and rubbed it gently between his fingers. "This time, we won't force our way in. We'll catch one of them alive out here. I want to know what those foreign devils have gone to all this trouble to study, hidden deep in these mountains."

"Done."

They exchanged glances, the wordless understanding of people who had been through plenty together.

With a plan settled, they hesitated no longer and retreated without a sound.

About a quarter of an hour's walk from the Buddhist Temple lay a slightly more open clearing in the woods.

"This'll do."

Third Master Cao chose a spot and crouched down.

His two long Mound-Sealing fingers moved with the deftness of a woman at her embroidery, rapidly digging holes and setting branches into the earth.

He used no iron jaws, rope loops, or other such contraptions. Instead, he worked with what lay at hand, using the spring of tree roots and a few stones as counterweights. In moments, he had built an exceptionally well-hidden Earth Dragon Snare.

Mound-Sealing Celestial Officials had originally used this kind of trap in tomb passages to stop pursuing reanimated corpses. It was just as well suited to taking someone alive.

When the trap was finished, Third Master Cao took a small paper packet from his robe and carefully shook its contents into the center.

The dark red powder gave off a strange, sweet fragrance that felt utterly out of place in the rotting forest.