When the team entered the golden mine territory, it had already grown dark. Ahead, the landscape was black and featureless, and Chang Dong thought they might have lost their way. Suddenly, a tremendous roar echoed, causing the vehicle to tremble slightly. He looked up and saw a massive rock—surely at least ten stories high—splitting open into two halves. It wasn’t a neat, symmetrical pair of gates, but rather two twisted, entwined human forms, one larger on the left, the other smaller on the right, originally touching seamlessly, now gradually separating. Ahu murmured, "This is the spirit gate." As the gate opened, a clear path emerged, lined on both sides by countless fire pits that stretched continuously into the deep heart of the mine. As the vehicle passed, Chang Dong paid close attention: these fires were unusual—there was no wood or fuel oil, as if they had appeared spontaneously. On the back seat, Ding Liu asked Ahu, "Why is it called the spirit gate? Does that mean there are spirits—or ghosts—here?" "Ah, that's not quite it," Ahu said. "There's a saying: 'No one is perfect.' Even the best of people have their bad intentions; even the worst can occasionally do good, right?" It seemed logical, Ding Liu nodded. "Then how does this relate to the spirit and the soul?" "I heard that people become complex precisely because their spirit and soul are different—the spirit is good, the soul is bad; the spirit is refined, the soul is dull. They support and complement each other, yet also balance and counteract one another, never fully separating. In the realm of spirit and soul, the spirit is on the left, the soul on the right, with the spirit dominating the soul. That means, when you reach a place where gold is everywhere, it's perfectly natural to have strong desires—indeed, to harbor ill intentions is no shame. But you shouldn't act like a mere person." Ding Liu murmured, "You people who practice this tradition really pay attention to symbolism." Ahu shook her head. "The spirit-soul mountain gate is naturally formed, inherently intertwined and mutually embracing. In other words, there's no path into a golden mountain—no way forward at all." Later, when the妖ghosts were finally vanquished at Yumen, large numbers of people entered the Yumen Pass and discovered this site, whereupon they began to build gates, lay out roads, establish outposts, and excavate tunnels... As he spoke, the carriage gradually wound through a long series of curves. This mountain range featured multiple peaks, rising and falling in a broad, arm-like arrangement, forming a substantial mountain-mining belt. A river ran through the center, along whose banks countless tents were erected—clearly for sand-gold extraction. At higher elevations, the Yulin Guard maintained watch, occasionally breaking the silence with the sound of dogs barking. The convoy halted in a vast, seemingly open valley basin. Though once bustling with activity, the area had now been cleared of much of its original campsite. Ropes had been stretched to form a perimeter, blocking off a large number of miners who were still bundled with their bedding and belongings. They stood upright, gazing upward at the guards who pointed and discussed. Within the enclosed area, only scattered, flickering fire platforms remained, and piles of yellow mineral materials lay spread out—covering an area as large as a full basketball court. At Zhao Guanshou's side, a head of the Jin Yu Guard from the mine had already approached to speak. Several Jin Yu Guards were leading seven or eight dogs standing at the foot of the mountain, calling for them to advance, but none of the dogs dared to move—each one hesitated, its hindquarters firmly planted, refusing even to touch the large pool of blood already spreading on the ground. Chang Dong looked up; the mountain was so tall and imposing, the atmosphere so dim and oppressive, that he could hardly make out the face of the Jin Lord. Soon, the head of the Jin Yu Guard shouted loudly, "Let the Heavens send thunder and the Earth unleash fire!" Sounds echoed from all around—silver fire balls surged upward, like signal rockets, then exploded with a thunderous roar at about fifty meters' height. At the same moment, the fire platforms on the ground erupted as if doused with hot oil, their flames swelling into towering pillars that shot skyward, rising several tens of meters in an instant. The light brightened dramatically, intense and scorching. Changdong could see clearly that the "Golden Lord's face" high up on the mountain's slope was at least as large as a whole building. Though the blood flowing from the seven orifices had ceased, it had left seven distinct wet streaks on the yellow-brown mountain stone, each several meters wide. "It's hard to say—sometimes just a few hours, sometimes several days." "What kind of damage would this cause?" "Again, not easy to pinpoint. Generally, when Master Jin's face is bleeding from all seven orifices, the mine shuts down for a few days, waiting for the earthquake to subside before resuming gold extraction. The Seven-Orifices tunnel is a mystery to most; in other tunnels, landslides or blockages during earthquakes are common occurrences—Miss Liuxi, wouldn't it be a bit risky for someone who's merely a casual acquaintance to take such a chance?" Ye Liuxi glanced at him. "This trip was said to be for saving Fei Tang, yet everyone knows in their hearts that saving him was merely a matter of convenience—after all, isn't the real reason really Jiang Zhan's desire to avenge the destruction of the city and recover the beast's jade? This crisis is unavoidable. If we don't take this risk today, we'll have to face it tomorrow, or any day after. In the end, it's just a matter of time. Why wait? Why not just go ahead and take the plunge now?" "After all, Jiang Zhan worked hard as a laborer at the gold mine. He must have heard the rumor that he'd be bleeding from every orifice. When people conduct business face-to-face, an earthquake strikes and everything collapses together—how could Jiang Zhan have planned for a complete mutual destruction with her? By now, Zhao Guanshou has no further advice to offer: "The terrain of the gold mine is unique—the mountain gate is the only entrance. Guards from the Golden Feathers are stationed at every high point. We channel earthfire for protection; even if birds fly overhead, they'll be reduced to ashes. Jiang Zhan doesn't go through the mountain gate or the elevated areas, yet he manages to reach the Ghost Tooth tunnel—this simply doesn't make sense." Ye Liuxi interrupts: "Didn't he also avoid the mountain gate and the high points back then, yet still escape from the mine? Have you never questioned whether there are other hidden passages or exits within the mine?" Zhao Guanshou is at a loss for words. Jiang Zhan back then was just a young lad with a mop of hair, no particularly notable figure at all. Plus, it was no uncommon occurrence in the mine that people died from hunger, exhaustion, or injuries—sometimes even vanished without a trace, with only one or two missing being a rare event. It wasn’t until Jiang Zhan later spread the word that he had escaped from the gold mine that anyone began to believe he had ever been here at all. He spoke vaguely: "Therefore, this time I’ve brought my full contingent of the Swift Hawks, planning to work in coordination with the Golden Feathers to establish perimeter patrols—my goal is simply to identify his hidden access point." Ye Liuxi was straightforward: "Then, how many people do you intend to send with me into the mine tunnels?" She wasn’t particularly counting on Zhao Guanshou’s team, but given the size of the procession and the grand scale of the arrival, if in the end only she, Chang Dong, and Ahu entered the tunnels while the rest merely watched from above, it would seem utterly absurd. Zhao Guanshou, indeed, was not one to lose face: "I’ll do my best to assemble a team of ten." The noble origins of the hawk guards come with strong family backing, and while it's not uncommon for them to make a heroic sacrifice in times of crisis, being clearly assigned to die on the spot would surely draw criticism. Thus, even someone as high-ranking as Zhao Guanshou had to be sparing with the number of personnel sent. Yet Ye Liuxi was already satisfied. The guards were well-equipped—featuring iron kneepads, arm guards, and chest-and-back armor—and the Golden Feathers also brought along safety helmets embedded with flowing light. Yet, every advantage has its drawback; once all these items were worn, movement became significantly cumbersome. So Ye Liuxi and Chang Dong only wore the arm guards and helmets, while simpler items like basic anti-toxin masks and anti-corrosion rubber sleeves were tucked into Chang Dong’s bag and carried for later use. "Anyway, it's just not going well," Ahu said. "Think about it—eleven is the start of the Zi hour, and Zi hour is the farthest from the peak of yang energy at the midday hour, at noon..." As she finished speaking, her face suddenly changed, her throat as if compressed by someone's grip, her eyes wide open, her body convulsing uncontrollably. Chang Dong didn't know what to say at first, just about to respond when suddenly she lifted her head and called out, "Ye Liuxi." Jiang Zhan's voice. Ye Liuxi looked at Ahu, knowing Jiang Zhan couldn't see her expression, yet couldn't help a quiet scoff. "You're quite punctual. Have you finally arrived?" "Yes, I've been waiting for you." Ye Liuxi glanced up at the half-open mouth high above. "I've been standing right at the entrance of the ghost tooth mine passage all this time, and haven't seen anyone go in. Jiang Zhan, are you not inside? During the day, Mr. Jin's face had already bled from all seven orifices. You brought me in, and now when the earthquake comes, if I'm "Jiang Zhan simply said, 'Then let Mr. Jin give you a toothy grin.'" After these words, there was a brief silence. Ye Liuxi looked up at Mr. Jin's face, puzzled as to how it could possibly "grin." Suddenly, he realized—if this face could actually grin and make expressions, wouldn't it then become... alive? As he was thinking this, a sudden glow struck his eyes. Without realizing it, he raised his hand to shield them. In just a few seconds, the crowd around him erupted into noise. Someone screamed, "Look! Look over there!" Ye Liuxi quickly lifted his gaze. After a moment, the mirror folded away, and Jiang Zhan's voice returned: "Now do you believe me?" Ye Liuxi smiled: "Don't rush, I'm here to swap for the fat Tang. I still need to find out what's going on with him." Jiang Zhan's tone remained neutral—neither pleased nor concerned. "Your matters are quite numerous," he said. Soon, Tang's voice came through: "Western Sister!" He didn't wait for Ye Liuxi to ask further, launching into a rapid update: "I'm doing great, Sister. I told Jiang Zhan that someone like me simply isn't worth the beast's jade. If he starves me or leaves me injured, you never know—maybe you'll back out. So these days, I've been well-fed and comfortable, no suffering at all. You can rest assured." Chang Dong asked: "Are you currently inside the mountain's core? Could you briefly describe the situation around you?" Tang swallowed: "Yes, it's a massive cavern..." His voice cut off there—likely at Jiang Zhan's request. However, the most critical points had now been confirmed, and Ye Liuxi had little left to hesitate about. She turned to Chang Dong nodded, shook the iron chain in his hands, and the Zhen Si was thrilled, half-dashing forward. Chang Dong took the lead, followed by Ye Liuxi and Ahu, with the Mungu Guard trailing behind. "Chang Dong gestured toward the area illuminated by the beam, "When I was down there asking around, someone mentioned that the Seven-Hole Mine Passage is a ceremonial site where live sacrificial animals—usually three types of offerings—are brought up during festivals. According to that, even if it's not foul-smelling, there should be quite a few remains of cattle and sheep scattered around. Yet..." There were no visible signs of such offerings—what seemed to be countless ceremonies appeared to be merely spoken of. Chang Dong crouched down, angling his flashlight nearly parallel to the ground, shining it inward. A sudden thought struck him. When he led expeditions in the Lop Desert, to determine orientation, his most habitual practice was to crouch and observe the direction of the sand grains on the ground. Over time, the desert's surface, worn down by wind erosion, left distinct grooves that clearly indicated wind direction—much like the Yadan formations, where the most eroded side typically faced the prevailing wind. The ground inside this mine passage was no different. The sand particles and soil fragments were subtly oriented inward, as though a consistent wind had always blown from outside toward the center. But the entrance terrain was bent and curved, like a mouth opening wide to embrace the earth—theoretically, the wind should not be able to blow in. More importantly, just at the entrance of the mine passage, two people had clearly been moving back and forth, holding mirrors and adjusting them up and down. Yet, upon closer inspection, there was not a single footprint left on the ground.