Jiang Zhizhou reached his hand into the Buddhist shrine.
Before he could touch anything, a sharp pain shot through his fingertips.
Only after withdrawing his hand did he discover that some unknown sharp object had sliced a deep cut into the tip of his index finger. Blood flowed freely.
There was clearly nothing blocking his way. Why had his finger still been injured?
Ignoring his bleeding finger, Jiang Zhizhou pressed his body tightly against the cliff face and leaned his head close to the edge of the hollow.
Looking from this angle, he finally saw several threads stretched taut around the shrine, so nearly transparent they seemed not to exist.
“Heavenly Silkworm Silk?” Jiang Zhizhou froze. Even this tiny space had been rigged with Heavenly Silkworm Silk?
Heavenly Silkworm Silk was rigid, sharp as a blade, and impervious to water and fire. Almost nothing could destroy it.
Looking from the Heavenly Silkworm Silk to the utterly unremarkable shrine, Jiang Zhizhou became convinced that the Imperial Testament he sought lay within.
But how was he to break through this web of Heavenly Silkworm Silk?
Though there were only a few strands of Heavenly Silkworm Silk in the hollow, they blocked every approach to the shrine, leaving him no opening.
The finger sliced by the Heavenly Silkworm Silk was still bleeding. Drop by drop, the blood fell in front of the shrine, soon gathering into a small puddle.
A cold mountain wind swept across Jiang Zhizhou's back.
Only that chill brought him back to his senses. The little stone ledge beneath his feet had begun to loosen.
He looked down and, sure enough, saw fine stone dust constantly falling away.
This ledge would not hold much longer.
If Jiang Zhizhou could not retrieve the Imperial Testament soon, he would have no choice