Chapter 11 ： Seeing the Light Again

The motor on the skiff had blown out during the explosion. We searched the whole boat but couldn't find any paddles. Left with no other choice, we had to make do by using a rifle stock to row. We hadn't gone far when a cold gust of wind slid down the back of my neck, making me shiver. A deep sense of foreboding suddenly welled up inside me.

Behind me, Li Yan jabbed me with his elbow. I turned around and saw someone "walking" toward us on the surface of the water, about twenty meters away. He moved slowly, each step leaving a ripple across the water.

The man was dressed in a police uniform, hands buried in his pockets, his face blank and dull. I'd recognize that bastard even if he turned to ashes. Just half a day ago, I'd given him a pack of cigarettes.

"I told you already, didn't I? Never come near the Pool. But you just wouldn't listen. Sigh… Now you regret it, huh?" Old Lin said with a sigh, as though he didn't want to see the scene unfolding before him.

Fatty whispered to me, "Who the hell is that? You know him?"

"He's the one who led Mott and us in here. He must be one of those living corpse descendants that the white-haired guy mentioned," I replied.

Song the Fool had already raised his gun and aimed at Old Lin's head. "Cut the crap! Isn't this all your doing?"

"You're wrong," Old Lin said with another sigh. "I didn't plan to harm you at the start. My only target was Mott's crew. They're drug dealers, scum of society. Bringing them here was a form of justice."

Fatty growled, "And what about me, huh? What the hell did I do to deserve being dragged into this?!"

Old Lin responded coldly, "Every temple has unjustly wronged ghosts. Great deeds require sacrifices. Besides, aren't you still alive?"（Note: The meaning of this sentence is that among the deceased enshrined in every temple, there are inevitably some who were wronged in their lifetime. It implies that in the process of upholding justice, it is inevitable to harm the innocent.）

I couldn't hold back my fury anymore and shouted, "What about Old Wang? And my fallen comrades? How do you account for them?!"

Old Lin fell silent for a moment before replying, "They were just unlucky. I didn't think you guys would make it through the Death Gate. Sigh, maybe it's all fate. Once you're in here, there's no getting out alive. You should just accept it."

That last sentence was clearly meant for us. Li Yan, having lost all patience, said, "Why are we still talking? Take him out!" With that, the four of us pulled our triggers at the same time, aiming at Old Lin's head.

A full burst of bullets emptied—and Old Lin was still standing right there. Strangely, he wasn't like the living corpses. The bullets hit him squarely, yet he didn't even flinch. There was no effect whatsoever. He remained with that same sorrowful expression, as though the bullets had passed right through him without leaving a trace.

"Why are you bothering?" Old Lin sighed and shook his head. "Since you've come in and learned this place's secret, there's no way out. Just accept your fate. It's all f—"

Old Lin suddenly froze mid-sentence, like he'd just seen a ghost. His eyes widened in shock, staring in our direction. "No... impossible! I saw you fall into the water with my own eyes. With the Ancestor Shaman's protection, you couldn't have escaped!"

Fatty, thoroughly confused, asked, "What's wrong with him now? Did one of you fall in the water?" The guy's slow on the uptake—I didn't even bother replying. Instead, I turned around.

A pale figure stood on the water behind us, holding a bundle of something in one hand. His entire body was white from head to toe. Who else could it be but the white-haired man who had fallen into the water earlier?

"Ancestor Shaman?" the white-haired man sneered. "Only you self-important mountain folk still worship him like he's anything. Here—you can have your Ancestor Shaman back." He tossed the bundle at Old Lin's feet.

Somehow, through some unknown means, the thing floated on the surface of the water without sinking.

"Ancestor Shaman!" Old Lin cried out when he saw what it was—a mangled upper half of a human body. The head looked like a blood-drenched gourd, and the eye sockets were empty—someone had gouged the eyes out.

Staring at the half-body, Old Lin became hysterical. "Impossible! I know you! There's no way you could kill the Ancestor Shaman! This has to be some illusion, right?!"

"You understand me? Just you?" The white-haired man strolled slowly toward Old Lin, speaking as he walked. "You only know what I wanted you to know. You haven't forgotten what I said back then, have you? Whoever wrongs me, I'll repay them tenfold. Now the Eye of the Cave is broken, the Ancestor Shaman is dead, and it seems like you're the only one left. You've lived long enough. Most of your skills were taught by me—time to return the favor."

As a bystander, I seemed to get the gist of it. Old Lin must've known the white-haired man from way back and had even betrayed him. Now the white-haired man was back for revenge. Old Lin had arranged for that so-called Ancestor Shaman to deal with him, and the zombie ambush earlier must have been targeting him. Old Wang, you guys really died for nothing.

The white-haired man walked toward Old Lin step by step. The same scene from earlier in the hall with the zombie played out again—Old Lin was trembling all over, like his tendons had been pulled out. His body gave out, and he fell into the water. The moment he splashed in, the white-haired man reached him, grabbed him by the hair, and yanked him back out.

Old Lin could no longer stand in the water. Half of his body floated, his lifeless fish-like eyes staring blankly at the white-haired man. His mouth twitched as if it took all his strength to speak. "Spare me… I know a secret. That elixir you gave me back then—I gave half to someone else. He didn't die either. The three of us share the same constitution."

The white-haired man's pupils contracted as he stared silently at Old Lin. Sensing a glimmer of hope, Old Lin continued, "You said yourself the elixir didn't work well on me. I suspected it was poisoned, so I gave half to someone else to test it. In the end, we both survived. Who he is and where he lives, only I know. If you kill me now, you'll never find him."

Still silent, the white-haired man locked eyes with Old Lin, like a venomous snake trying to see through him. At this point, Old Lin threw caution to the wind. "Spare me, and I'll tell you where he is. I'll disappear and never show my face again. Please…"

The white-haired man seemed tempted. "And if you're lying?"

Old Lin swore, "I swear to the Ancestor Shamans of the Miao people—if I, Lin Huo, deceive Wu Mian today, may my soul rot in blood after death, scattered to the winds, never to reincarnate."

I felt a jolt—so the white-haired man's name was Wu Mian.

Perhaps he found the oath convincing. Wu Mian nodded. "Alright, speak."

Old Lin hesitated. "You're sparing me?"

"I am. Speak."

Wu Mian lowered his head. Old Lin leaned close and whispered a few words in his ear. Wu Mian was silent for a moment before asking, "Are you hiding anything else from me?"

Old Lin shook his head. "No, that's all." Wu Mian nodded, still holding Old Lin by the hair, and dragged him to the sampan where I sat. He took out a pistol and handed it to me. "You. Shoot him."

Seriously? First it was "I'm giving you a chance," and now it's "I'm sparing you." Nothing he promises ends well.

"You said you'd spare me!" Old Lin's eyes widened. "You can't go back on your word! You are—"

"Shut up!" Wu Mian barked. "I said I wouldn't kill you. What others do isn't my concern. Do it."

I pulled the trigger. Bang. The bullet pierced straight through Old Lin's forehead, a jet of blood spraying out. He arched backward and died on the spot. Hundreds of rifle rounds couldn't harm him earlier, but a single pistol bullet ended his life.

What kind of gun is this? Only after Old Lin died did I turn my attention to the pistol. At first glance, it looked like a standard Type 92 military handgun, though a bit heavier than usual. On closer inspection, the surface was densely engraved—wait, were those runes?

"Holy crap! The corpse is smoking!" Fatty cried out. I looked up and saw thick smoke pouring from the bullet hole in Old Lin's forehead. Then flames erupted from his eyes, mouth, nostrils, and the wound. Wu Mian released the corpse, and it sank into the water. Flames engulfed the body—strangely, the fire didn't go out underwater. The burning corpse sank slowly, glowing until it disappeared into the depths.

I tucked the pistol into my waistband. Wu Mian said to us, "Keep walking forward. When you see light, you'll be out."

Fatty asked, "Who the hell are you? We need an explanation. Otherwise, no one's going to believe what happened today."

Wu Mian glanced at him. "Would they believe it even if I gave you an explanation? Once you're out, someone will tell you what to say." Then he extended his palm toward me. "Hand it over."

I pulled out a cigarette. "Not the best brand, but it'll do."

Wu Mian rolled his eyes. "Don't play dumb. The gun."

Feigning realization, I said, "Oh, right. Habit. Always put it away after shooting." Reluctantly, I handed the Type 92 back to him.

He pocketed the pistol and walked away, no longer paying us any attention. Song the Fool shouted, "Where are you going? The exit's the other way!" Wu Mian didn't turn back. "My business isn't finished. Keep going. You'll be out in about twenty minutes."

Just as he said, twenty minutes later we saw light. The water current picked up—no need to paddle, the sampan was carried swiftly along. A few more minutes passed, and the light ahead grew brighter, the roar of water louder.

Fatty, clutching his AK-47, tilted his head. "What's that sound? Whoosh… Sounds familiar."

His words jogged my memory. "It's a waterfall! We've looped through the mountain's belly—we're about to fall from the top!"

Song still didn't get it. "So what?"

"We jump! Now!" I shouted. But it was too late. Light suddenly exploded before us, and the sampan—with all four of us—plunged downward in dramatic fashion.

Technically, we didn't fall from the top. The cave exit was hidden behind the most violent part of the waterfall. With the water curtain masking it, it was nearly impossible to spot from outside.

Luckily, we'd done two river-crossing drills the week before. With over a hundred training runs under our belt, this little pond wasn't enough to drown us—Fatty possibly excluded. At that point, we couldn't worry about him.

As soon as I surfaced, a few strong hands pulled me into a raft. Before I could react, several guns were aimed at me.

A familiar voice said, "Lower your weapons—it's Shen La and the others."

It was Wang Zuo. He and Wang Guofeng had regained radio signal after exiting the cave. When the squad leader brought reinforcements and re-entered, Old Wang had already led us through the Death Gate. They couldn't follow. After failing to find another way in, the squad leader ordered the mountain sealed off and sent someone to the command post halfway up the mountain to fetch explosives. He was going to blast the gate open.

When the squad leader learned we had reappeared, he rushed out of the cave. On the shore were five neatly laid corpses: Old Wang, Li Jiadong, Liu Jingsheng, Zhang Yunwei, and the drug dealer Mote.

Since the squad's founding, we'd never suffered such losses. Four out of nine dead—including our leader—and we weren't even fighting trained soldiers. Just some drug traffickers with militia-level equipment. No one expected this level of casualty.

The squad leader's face was like stone. He stared at Mote's corpse, his teeth grinding. Suddenly, he pulled his sidearm and aimed it at the corpse to fire a few more rounds. The political officer, seeing this, quickly grabbed him. "Old Zhang, don't! We need to do an autopsy—your bullets in his body will be a problem."

"Squad leader! Captain Wang's death had nothing to do with Mote!" I had to speak up before he lost it. I walked quickly over and lowered my voice, recounting everything that happened after we entered the Death Gate.

The squad leader stared at me. "Are you telling me a myth?"

I answered seriously, "Song Chunlei, Li Yan, and our comrades from Narcotics can vouch for me."

Behind me, Song the Fool and Li Yan nodded. Not far away, Fatty was still coughing up water on the shore.

The squad leader turned away, ignoring us. He shouted toward the crowd, "Where are the explosives? Why aren't they here yet?!"

Just then, a lazy voice interrupted, "Blowing up the cave? That won't do."