The oddities at Baidongdui must surely be no mere coincidence. Chang Dong asked Fei Tang, "Have the Gray Eights all gone?" "Yes, they've all left quietly—wishing not to draw attention. A few people remain in the main tent to keep watch. I said I needed to urinate, and that's how I slipped out. Now, Dongge, I'm returning." Chang Dong added, "Be careful at night—things aren't quite peaceful here." Fei Tang nodded, hunched his shoulders, and walked off without looking at Ye Liuxi, still a bit afraid of her after her last reprimand. Chang Dong turned to Ye Liuxi, "Shall we go? Is your footwork comfortable?" Ye Liuxi had already taken up her sword: "If it's hard to walk, what then? You can't carry me, can you? I'll manage on my own." Chang Dong wanted to smile, yet found her words quite valid—after all, who would spend a midnight tracking someone else while carrying someone else on their back? —— At night, it's harder to observe footprints on the ground. The Gray Eights have been gone for some time now, having He scanned his surroundings, rushed several steps to a raised platform, climbed up with one arm, used his legs for leverage, and with remarkable lightness, leaped and landed on the platform's top. Ye Liuxi looked up and saw him checking all directions before lowering his center of gravity and swiftly sliding down, "This way." Hui Ba and his group moved at a leisurely pace, wobbling along, and within a few minutes, the two had pulled slightly behind, staying at a distance without drawing close. Only then did Ye Liuxi ask him, "Have you trained?" Chang Dong didn't immediately respond, "What?" Ye Liuxi extended his finger, making a gesture upward, saying, "Whoosh..." "I've done some urban adventure training—when it comes to combat skills, however, I'm only average, falling short of the national three-time martial arts champion." National three-time martial arts champion... Ye Liuxi found the phrase familiar; she was certain she had heard it before. Hai Ba and the others walked and stopped, occasionally marking spots on the earth platform. It felt like a mere illusion, but they always sensed the wind stronger here—the strange, swirling sounds between the Yardangs seemed more eerie than before. Ye Liuxi turned several times to look back, and a thought came to her. She felt uneasy, not just afraid for herself. Chang Dong reached out, overlaid his palm with hers, then grasped her hand firmly: "I'm timid. I'm afraid what's behind me when we arrive will be all a mess." Ye Liuxi's gaze passed over their interlaced hands: "Speaking of hands, I just thought of another thing—the man who's always holding the woman's hand. Actually…" Chang Dong tightened his grip on hers. She finally stopped telling stories. … After about half an hour, they reached their destination. The wind was strong, so Chang Dong led Ye Liuxxi to a nearby earthen platform, where they peeked out and roughly counted—nine people in total, including Hui Ba. The lights on the platform flickered unevenly, everything was rough and unpolished, yet orderly: several iron shovels had hand-held flashlights attached, positioned at different spots, illuminating the entire area evenly. Hui Ba was in charge of supervision, assigning two people to climb to higher positions for watch duty; the remaining three were divided into two groups and rotated through their tasks. At that moment, aside from the wind, there was only the sound of the spade cutting into the earthen platform, and occasional exhortations from Hai Ba: "Slow down! Slow down! Don't scratch the coffin surface—didn't you see the little drawings? The drawings make it an artwork, something valuable!" Chang Dong observed clearly: the so-called coffin was positioned halfway up the platform, deeply embedded, requiring gradual excavation outward. Ye Liuxi found it odd: "This isn't what we call a coffin, is it? A coffin should be buried underground—this one's actually on the ground level." Indeed, it stood nearly half a person's height above the ground, hardly qualifying as "resting in the earth." Changdong said softly, "Also, the coffin lid is actually plain wood—this differs from the local burial customs." Take the Xiahe burial site, for instance: the coffins are typically wrapped in cowhide. Experts explain that live cows are slaughtered on-site, their hides removed and used to wrap the coffins. After burial, the hides gradually shrink due to drying, while the sand absorbs blood and all moisture, thus preserving the bodies remarkably well. In response to the harsh environmental conditions, the ancient people devised this method, and Western explorers who later excavated the site were particularly impressed by it. This coffin, however, lacks such protective measures—does this indicate that the deceased was not treated with much care? Changdong thought Gray Eight might end up disappointed. Progress on excavating the coffin has been rather sluggish; they've already changed three or four teams, and even Gray Eight has taken up the spade, working until late at night, yet they've only uncovered a narrow, elongated depression halfway up the mound, revealing about two-thirds of the coffin's body—the coffin is embedded in the mound, like a tongue protruding from the mouth. Huo Ya came over with the rope circle: "Master Eighth, let's pull it together." Gray Eighth didn't care about the artistic finish of the coffin anymore; he spat on the ground and said, "Get on board—where are the people? Come here, everyone, pull!" The battery was running low, and the flashlight light had dimmed. After a flurry of activity, the coffin was tied down with all sorts of ropes, four people standing on each side, each taking up the rope and pulling with steady, deep groans: "One, two, three—go!" Gray Eighth kept digging to provide support: whenever he noticed one end loosening, he added two more shovelfuls of soil to that side. Whether it was good luck or bad, after a few minutes, the end of the coffin embedded in the earthen platform suddenly gave way, and under the force of the pulling, it almost slipped out—two people at the front couldn't avoid it and were knocked hard, their heads striking the earthen platform directly across from them. The coffin crashed to the ground with a thunderous sound, sending a gust of dust swirling into the air, which was then swept away by the strong wind. At once, the scene turned chaotic, with people shouting and murmuring. Amid the commotion, someone exclaimed, "Master Eighth, he's gone—his head's been crushed like this!" Just moments before, they had been alive and well, now two of them had passed away in quick succession. Chen Dong felt a pang of sympathy. Ye Liuxi remarked, "This isn't a good omen—we haven't even opened the coffin yet." Gray Eighth roared, "Hush everyone! First, carry the bodies to the side." His voice always carried authority. He paused, then led the way, having his companions lifted to the periphery. The others stood by, watching, their faces tinged with complexity as they recalled how recently they had shared meals and lived together side by side. Gray Eighth said, "I'm a man of honor—I won't back down! Chen San and Ma Feng paved the way for us. Everything inside the coffin shall be split equally between them!" After a moment of silence, Huaya took the lead and erupted, "Master Eighth, this seems unfair—why give so much? If they take so much, our brothers will only be left with scraps!" Others grew increasingly dissatisfied: —Indeed, indeed, they're all worn out now; no matter how much we offer, they won't be able to enjoy it. —We're only making the household wives better off, aren't we? In the end, it's still the other men who suffer. Why not have the brothers divide the share more generously? “It’s like a box, but this shape—it’s a coffin.” …… Gray Ba grumbled, “All this babbling! Just lift the lid and see.” He reached his hand to the coffin lid. At that moment, the wind suddenly picked up, and among the familiar strange sounds, a faint singing emerged—soft and melodic. On closer listening, it was a low, steady hum. Gray Ba frowned, “Did you hear that?” The singing came and went intermittently, and after listening for a long time, he finally made out a few words: “Yumen Pass… entering the pass…” Chang Dong also focused his attention, but the wind scattered the sound so much that he only caught a hazy phrase: “You keep your golden pavilion for someone special.” Ye Liuxi smiled and said, “I think this has something to do with me.” She stepped past Chang Dong and walked out confidently. —— Gray Ba was startled to see someone appear behind the earthen platform, his body instantly bristling with gooseflesh. When he recognized it as Ye Liuxi and Chang Dong, his heart began to race like a drum. He didn't know why Ye Liuxi had ended up on the register, but from the way she carried herself, he sensed she wasn't someone easy to cross off. So he always adhered to the principle of doing his best not to offend her—now, with her suddenly appearing at night, her eyes adorned with a ghostly scorpion, smiling faintly, as if she had transformed entirely. Hai Ba dryly smiled, "West Sister... you never used to scare people like this!" Ye Liuxi asked, "Did you catch that? Was it me singing?" Before she even finished speaking, Hai Ba realized he had misjudged: the voice began soft and mournful, then gradually unfolded like waves rolling gently across the horizon— "Yumen Pass, Ghost Pass, one step beyond, blood runs dry. You live in golden halls, enjoying your own happiness, never mind my tears streaming down..." Hai Ba's team gradually caught on, each growing pale, their teeth trembling, their legs shaking. Hai Ba swallowed hard, then suddenly erupted, shouting, "What in the world is this—some kind of act of divine pretense!" "Speaking, he swung the iron shovel he was holding and hurled it fiercely toward the darkness. The sharp tip, driven by his strong force, sank an inch into the saline soil, yet it wavered and trembled, nearly tipping over. On Gray Ba's face, anger surged: "Xī Sister, I've been polite to you all along—not out of fear. Let me be clear: are you here to block my shipment? There's a natural order—after all, I've seen blood, lost people here. To let me go just because you've arrived, that doesn't sit well with me." Ye Liu Xi smiled gently: "I've overthought it. I'm simply here to watch the show." "Li Ba wasn't entirely convinced, but since she was making a show of it, he wouldn't back down: 'That sounds great. But I'm no stranger to good things—should the chest truly be full of treasures, Xi Ji, everyone who sees it gets a share. You go ahead and pick a few more, if you like.' He bent down and forcefully lifted the lid of the coffin. Before Ye Liuxi could even take a good look inside, she suddenly heard a gasp, followed by a sharp crackling sound. She quickly turned around—something was hurtling toward her, and finally, with a clatter, it landed on the nearby earthen platform. It was the iron spade Li Ba had thrown earlier. 'Who! Who's there?! The men, get your tools ready—don't let them outsmart us!' A dull thud followed—the lid of the coffin that had just been lifted now settled back down. This sound drew everyone's attention. Li Ba remained in the same bent posture, motionless, his clothes filled with the rushing wind, and a tuft of hair at the top of his head swaying gently in the breeze. Huo Ya stepped forward with a brave heart, crouching down to look at him: "Eighth Lord?" Under the weak light, Yi Ba's eyes were wide open, and blood threads were slowly seeping from his neck.