The Mirror Hairpins

He paused, cleared his throat, his voice low and magnetic, as if narrating an ancient and mysterious legend: "This object is called the 'Mirror Hairpin,' shaped like a sharp cone, forged entirely from bronze. Its tip is as sharp as a blade, and the dense barbs are as vicious as fangs. Once it pierces the ground, it becomes as firmly rooted as if it has taken root, unshaken by wind or rain. In the middle of the hairpin's body, within an exquisitely hollowed-out spherical cage, is sealed a fluorescent liquid extracted from fireflies. At night, the faint light flickers, resembling a celestial river fallen to earth, guiding those who follow. And at the top of the hairpin, a small bronze mirror shaped like a bird's egg, polished to a shine, can capture distant scenes in their entirety, becoming a powerful tool for observation and positioning."

Gongshu Chou's description was so vivid that it was as if the "Mirror Hairpin" was shimmering with a cold light before their eyes. Qin Yi listened intently, a hint of amazement flashing in his eyes. He had never seen such an ingeniously crafted object, and his heart was filled with both shock and curiosity. He couldn't help but ask, "Such a marvelous instrument, how exactly should it be used to maximize its effectiveness?"

Gongshu Chou smiled slightly, his gaze as deep as a pool: "The method of use is quite simple. When the team sets out, the vanguard first drives the first Mirror Hairpin into the ground, as a starting point. Then, the second person advances to a distance, chooses a flat piece of ground, and firmly inserts the second hairpin. At this time, the vanguard can use the bronze mirror at the top of the hairpin to observe whether he can see the position of the next hairpin. If the line of sight is clear, he signals to continue moving forward. And so on, the team moves forward, laying down Mirror Hairpins along the way, forming a path of interconnected light points, until they reach their destination." He paused, adding, "Each hairpin is about the length of a writing brush, light and portable, and each person can carry more than a hundred, enough to cope with long journeys."

After listening, Qin Yi nodded thoughtfully, pondering: "This object is indeed ingeniously designed, but it also has its limitations. If it is in the depths of a dense forest, where trees and bushes grow thickly, the light of the Mirror Hairpin and the field of vision of the bronze mirror will inevitably be obscured, making it difficult to exert its effectiveness. Only on this vast and boundless grassland and desert can it become a guiding light."

Gongshu Chou heard this and said: "General Qin is absolutely right. My grandsons, with their hearts full of enthusiasm, took these Mirror Hairpins and set out to explore the northwest. They were full of hope, believing that they would be able to find meteorites and win honor for the clan. But who would have thought... what awaited them was an abyss of death!" At this point, his voice trembled, his eyes bloodshot, anger and grief intertwined, as if he wanted to pour out the rage in his chest.

Seeing this, Qin Yi couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. He knew that Gongshu Chou's family had been famous for their mechanical skills for generations, and the children of the clan all took pride in their mastery of the craft. Those young people, perhaps driven by their yearning for family honor, had embarked on this path of no return. He asked softly, "Mr. Gongshu, could you tell me what exactly they encountered?"

Gongshu Chou closed his eyes, took a deep breath, as if suppressing the pain in his heart. After a moment, he slowly opened his mouth, his voice low and hoarse: "I feel that it was a cursed land. My grandsons, carrying the Mirror Hairpins, followed the clues all the way, and finally found that area. At first, everything went smoothly, but when they went deep into the core of the ruins, they discovered that it was not a treasure land, but a trap full of murderous intent."

Gongshu Chou opened his eyes, a trace of determination flashing in them, his voice low and hoarse, as if every word carried a heavy price: "Monsters, they were monsters! Their bodies were covered with pitch-black scales, their eyes were blood-red, and their movements were like ghosts. They... they were simply not creatures of this world!" His voice trembled, as if those terrifying scenes were still lingering before his eyes.

Qin Yi felt a chill run down his spine, and cold sweat slowly dripped down his back. He could imagine the scene of those young men struggling in despair – in the pitch-black night, the faint glow of the Mirror Hairpins became their only hope, but it also became a death knell. Those monsters lurked in the darkness, their scarlet eyes flickering like will-o'-the-wisps, their scales gleaming coldly in the moonlight. They approached silently, their claws tearing through the air, their fangs dripping with a foul-smelling mucus, tearing each and every living being to pieces.

His mind couldn't help but conjure up the six corpses he had seen earlier in front of the Qin mansion. Those young faces were already twisted and deformed, their limbs were incomplete and mutilated, their flesh was blurred, as if they had been violently torn apart by some enormous force. Even Qin Yi, a general who had experienced many battles, had never seen such a tragic death. Soldiers kill enemies on the battlefield, engaging in direct combat, and death and injury are the most common occurrences. Swords and blades are merciless, leaving behind whole bodies, severed heads, or broken arms and legs, but that is ultimately a slaughter between humans, and even if the death is tragic, it is still within the realm of reason. But these corpses before him had been wantonly ravaged by inhuman forces, as if those monsters were not killing for the sake of killing, but to enjoy the pleasure of torturing life. Every wound was so deep that the bone could be seen, and every tear was filled with a violent aura.

The night deepened, the candlelight flickered, and the shadows of the two men were stretched long. Outside the house, the wind howled, as if telling the story of that sealed-off, terrifying past.