Before us lay a fork in the road, and we took the left path along the riverbank. The man said he was taking me somewhere.

"Hey, kid! Move it, will you? You're so slow we won't make it before dark," he called back to me from time to time, urging me to hurry.

I didn't talk back, only grumbling to myself, "What does he mean 'before dark'? Is there even a distinction between day and night here? Besides, doesn't he see I'm carrying someone?"

Red Sister was voluptuous but not very tall—I reckoned she couldn't weigh more than 110 pounds. Although not excessively heavy, carrying her for several miles, especially along the treacherous banks of the Underground River, was no easy task. One misstep and we could both tumble, so I couldn't walk fast.

"Stop, let's stop here," the man in front abruptly halted.

He pointed across the Underground River for me to look.

On the opposite bank was a rock wall, and by the dim light of the flashlight, I could see a fissure in the rock face about several inches wide, stretching long vertically, though its depth was not visible.

"What's going on?" I asked, puzzled as I looked across the river.

"What else? We swim across, get to the other side," he said, squinting at the crevice in the stone.

"I can't swim, and Red Sister hasn't woken up yet. How is she supposed to get across? You're not serious, are you? We should wait for Red Sister to wake up before crossing."

The man glanced at me, then at Red Sister, still unconscious on my back. He sighed deeply and cursed under his breath about a lazy donkey being the most troublesome at the mill.

I gently laid Red Sister down and leaned against the rock wall with the man, resting with closed eyes. I wanted to wait for Red Sister to wake up before proceeding; safety was the priority.

Feeling tired, I leaned back and soon drifted off.

As the old saying goes, "Your day's thoughts become the dreams of your night," and I had a peculiar dream.

In the dream, I found myself in a grand and splendid palace, its floor covered with fur carpets. On either side of the palace stood six enormous bronze palace lamps, their candles flickering inside. Gradually, numerous light gauze-clad dancing girls with slender willowy waists entered the palace, dancing in groups of three.

These exquisitely beautiful palace maids, with eyebrows arched like mountains, glanced upward in unison amidst the dance of their gossamer veils.

Following their gaze, I looked up.

There, rising before me, were twenty-nine steps leading to a colossal bronze bed at the center, its four corners adorned with fierce chi dragons, their bodies coiled as if spring-loaded, faces menacing. Each dragon faced a different direction—east, south, west, north—guarding its respective quadrant.

On the bronze dragon bed lay a man, regally dressed and crowned, casually holding an empty bronze goblet, paying no heed to the dancing girls behind him.

Since he lay with his back to me, I couldn't see his face clearly. I wanted to approach for a closer look but found myself unable to move.

Suddenly.

Within the immense bronze palace lantern, the candles that were burning began to shift from a pale yellow to a light green, and ultimately, to a deep green hue.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

In an instant, the resplendent palace vanished from sight, and the room was bathed in an eerie green glow, as if one had arrived in the Underworld. At this moment, the once ravishing faces of the dancing girls took on a ghastly transformation.

It was then that the man lying on the bronze dragon bed began to slowly turn his head towards me.

This man...

His face was green with a collapsed nose, pus dripping incessantly from his visage. His entire face looked as if it had been soaked and swollen, becoming large and round, with all features squeezed into the center. Two long fangs pressed tightly against his lower lip, and a few strands of hair naturally fell across his forehead.

"Ah!" I woke up with a start, drenched in a cold sweat, panting heavily, my heart still racing from the shock.

"What's the matter? Dreamt of ghosts?" The man leaning against the stone wall opened his eyes—a term in Buddhism—and asked me indifferently.

"It's... it's nothing, just a dream," I said, hastily wiping the cold sweat from my forehead.

The dream had been so vivid, I could even make out the patterns on those bronze palace lanterns... It felt all too real.

Red Sister was still not awake, but I could see a hint of color returning to her face, which gave me hope that she would soon come to without any serious issues.

And indeed, my prediction was correct; Red Sister woke up that night.

Upon awakening, she asked for water. Knowing her weakened state, I feared the river water might upset her stomach, so I took out the last half bottle of mineral water from my bag and helped her drink.

"Red Sister, you're finally awake!" I said, wiping her mouth with a look of joy.

"Ah... I nearly met my end here," she grasped my hand, "Thank you, Cloud Peak, for saving my life. You didn't abandon me to save yourself. As the saying goes, you are a man of deep loyalty and righteousness."

She no longer called me 'Little Brat', now addressing me as a man.

"It's really nothing, just helping each other out, heh heh," I said, scratching my head in embarrassment.

"You are...?" She suddenly noticed the bearded man resting with his eyes closed in the southwest corner.

The man opened his eyes—a term in Buddhism—and seeing A Mole awake, he greeted her with a bow: "I am a laborer from the Southern Sect, a gold tapping specialist, Chen Jiansheng."

Red Sister's expression was a mix of gravity and disdain, six parts to four, but she still returned the gesture and replied: "Logistics of the Northern Faction, A Mole, Chen Hong."

The two acknowledged each other with a nod across the void, then ceased any further conversation. It was the customary greeting between peers in their line of work.

The Southern Sect and Northern Faction had always been at odds. To have them exchange names and greetings in such a manner was already quite amicable under the circumstances.

"In a narrow path, the brave emerges victorious," I thought. Should the leaders of the Southern Sect and the Northern Faction encounter each other in the same tomb... it might well end in bloodshed.

Both were ready to draw swords, and neither would concede defeat willingly. Only if one group could decisively overpower the other would the truth be revealed.

Their paths were divergent, but it wasn't my place to fan the flames. I tried my best to maintain a calm and peaceful dialogue between them. After all, there were only the three of us here, all in the same precarious situation—like grasshoppers on a rope. Our primary concern should be to find a way out.

I informed Red Sister about the need to cross the river to the other side.

Upon hearing this, she furrowed her brow and said, "Cloud Peak, how can you trust others so easily? What if someone harbors malicious intentions against you?"

"Hmph."

The man beside us crossed his arms and said, "Projecting the petty mind of the villain onto the noble heart. Indeed, women and petty men are the most difficult to raise."

"You!" A Mole stood up furiously.

"Say that one more time?"

"Heh heh..." The man smirked with a cold laugh. "Indeed, women and petty men are the most difficult to raise."

"Stop! Don't be rash, Red Sister!" I reached out to hold her back, but I was too late.

"It's over, this is going to end badly..."

"You rat from the south, get up!" A Mole charged at him, full of fury.

It was then that I noticed a change in the man's eyes. From rage, they shifted to a bewildered daze.

He was a head taller than Red Sister, and there was a certain presence to him as he stood up.

Scratching his head, the man echoed, "You rat from the south, get up!"

Red Sister's face changed as she planted her hands on her hips and shouted angrily, "Try mimicking an old lady again!"

The man immediately mimicked her posture, "Try mimicking an old lady again."

"Stinking rat of the Southern Sect, dead rat, rotten rat!" Red Sister was so angry that veins throbbed at her temples.

The man simply laughed foolishly and parroted, "Stinking rat of the Southern Sect, dead rat, rotten rat." (To be continued)

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I have also posted the following more chapters [All free]: https://www.readgates.com/article/7b136c