The village stone gate had remained shut for centuries, layers of time weathering its surface. There was no other way in, yet the pristine map revealed a compass pointing to the far side. Perhaps a secret passage lay hidden within.
With unwavering resolve, Li Haoran followed the indicated direction without a backward glance. He steeled his courage, refusing to be deterred by any unease lingering in his path.
In silent contemplation, he focused on his next goal: obtaining the third antidote ingredient—Phantom Lily Leaves.
Far from the stone gate, he discovered an uneven square hole. Darkness swallowed the abyss below, where an old, rotting wooden ladder descended. The pit wasn't too deep—perhaps eleven feet—with a sandy, uneven floor at the bottom.
He didn't hesitate or falter; with confidence, he jumped down. Upon landing, he summoned his power to forge a spiritual guiding light, illuminating the tunnel and granting his journey a bright, clear path forward.
A few stone steps descended ahead, leading the way in. Li Haoran began his journey and crossed the path with composure.
As he proceeded, he heard strange voices laced with resentment. The sounds were so deafeningly loud they seemed to pierce his ears—whispered words trembling with fear, punctuated by cries and screams. All around him was an atmosphere of trouble, desperation, and helplessness.
It seemed this place had once served as a hidden refuge for the villagers during times of chaos. The remaining survivors made it their home, living out their final days within its confines.
Deeper inside, he passed by an old, rusty dungeon. Relics from ages past were completely blanketed in dust. Beyond the next open threshold, instead of a common room, he found an ancient stockroom. Rotten sandbags lay on the ground, thin as paper—empty and falling apart. This had once served as a small granary for the inhabitants during ancient times.
Perhaps there had once been a living survivor here.
In the end, when all supplies were exhausted and there was nowhere left to run, the inhabitants faced a calamity of famine.
The next town was far in the distance, and no convoy could possibly reach this place. Traveling there on foot would likely take at least four to five hours. Furthermore, after losing their wealth to the tragedy caused by Telsovore, the survivors were plunged into distress. Unable to return to their usual treasure digging, many ultimately fell prey to the beasts, unable to reclaim their former lives.
In the larger scheme of things, this village and its people had already suffered greatly, enduring relentless misfortune.
Their pain was immense—and utterly undeserved.
If that was the case, then the terrible resentments he heard were the souls of the villagers, still trapped in darkness, unable to see the light.
As he ventured deeper into the corridor, Li Haoran halted. His keen eyes were sharp enough to notice the oppressive atmosphere and the countless human bones scattered throughout the vast chamber.
He was utterly stunned by the sight, but pressed onward, surveying the bones scattered along his path.
At first, he hesitated to look closely; then, for a moment, his heart pounded as he spotted tiny skulls—those of newborns, toddlers, and people of all ages. His eyes stung, and he fought back tears of pity.
How cruel fate can be!
How could innocent lives be taken in such a way? They never even had the chance to experience the joys of a full and vibrant life.
Pursuing his goal was what mattered most right now. There was no room to dwell on what had happened so long ago.
Li Haoran walked away without looking back, his footsteps echoing through the dark corridor.
A short distance ahead, a tiny spot of light pierced down from above—marking the opening to the passageway leading to the main location.
Upon finding it, Li Haoran rushed forward, excitement flickering across his face. Up close, he saw a wooden door overhead—old, rotten, and riddled with holes. Beside it hung a massive rope, thicker than a person's arm and expertly crafted, serving as a support ladder. It was securely fastened to the tunnel wall and extended up beyond the wooden door.
At first, he hesitated to climb it, certain it might give way if he put his weight on it. He grasped the rope ladder and shook it with all his strength. Fortunately, despite the ages that had passed, the rope held firm—still durable beneath its thick coating of dust, its craftsmanship impeccable.
Satisfaction washed over his face. Without hesitation, he began to climb. Dust billowed into the air with every touch of his hand and with each tug under the weight of his body.
When he reached the top, he tried to push open the wooden door. Before he could apply much force, the door suddenly gave way, breaking apart into several pieces. Li Haoran winced as fragments of wood tumbled down onto him. He paused, brushed the dust from his clothes, and then continued his ascent.
Finally, he reached the top.
Once he regained his footing, he saw the arched frame of the tunnel ahead, formed from ancient stonework. He walked through it, and as he crossed its threshold, he finally glimpsed what the world inside this hidden village looked like.
The atmosphere was dim, like the moments just before dawn—the hour of Yin. The breeze carried an earthy scent, reminiscent of rain-soaked soil and petrichor.
The establishments lay in absolute ruin, as if trampled by massive creatures.
Not a single structure stood firm; nothing usable remained. Even the scattered shards of concrete were slowly crumbling to dust, swallowed by a shroud of green moss.
The scene was bleak and hopeless—an unpleasant sight, reminiscent of a desolate, apocalyptic landscape.
The scattered dead leaves were the only sound in the entire area—utterly quiet, gloomy, foreboding, and deeply unsettling.
Li Haoran drew the pristine map from the folds of his robe, carefully unfolding it to follow the guidance of the glowing compass. It pointed west. He set off, letting the map direct him onto the correct path.
Following its instructions, he soon arrived at a resting place for the deceased, now overgrown with all manner of weeds. The deafening chirp of crickets filled the air.
Looking up, he stared at the darkening silhouette of a slope, shrouded by thick, seemingly endless clouds that blocked the sun from ever reaching the village.
Suddenly, Li Haoran sensed something unexpected. Amid the bleakness, he felt a pair of eyes fixed intently on him.
He stopped, scanning his surroundings. Moments later, he heard the rustling of leaves and the rapid patter of footsteps. Spinning around, he quickly searched every corner. Then, he spotted a figure dashing and hiding among the crumbling concrete.
No, this wasn't just some creature—this was one of his own kind.
A corner of Li Haoran's lips lifted in a wry smile as he unleashed a burst of spiritual power at the fleeing figure. Struck from behind, the figure abruptly collapsed from the meager force he had used. He heard a muffled groan as the stranger sprawled motionless on the ground.
He approached the man, placing his hands on his waist as he watched the stranger hurriedly clutch his side.
Upon closer inspection, the man appeared to be around sixty years old—though it was hard to tell for certain. He was balding, with two missing teeth, one on each side of his mouth.
The old man looked up, taking in Li Haoran's tall, well-built, and handsome appearance. He forced a smile and slowly rose to his feet.
Li Haoran returned only a cold, silent gaze.
"Old man, what are you doing here? Are you following me?"
The old man immediately raised both hands defensively.
"No, I am not following you. In fact, I should be the one asking you that. Why are you here? What is your purpose? Don't you know this place is extremely dangerous? No one dares to trespass. Death awaits you."
"Death?" Li Haoran raised an eyebrow, echoing the old man's warning. "Before I came here, I already survived death twice. Whatever danger awaits me here today, I do not fear it."
"You…" The old man paused, his gaze traveling from Li Haoran's head to toe, flinching slightly as if examining him with growing suspicion.
"Why? Is what I said so hard to believe?" Li Haoran pressed, noticing the old man's furtive glances. "You keep looking at me. Is this place truly dangerous, or are you the one instilling fear here?"
At this, the old man averted his eyes.
"Do not hurl false accusations," the old man shot back at once, his face clearly offended.
A heavy silence settled between them.
Li Haoran observed the old man closely, noting his worn clothing, riddled with small holes, as though he had never changed out of it.
The style and stitching of the garment were unmistakably from an ancient era. Li Haoran's brows drew together in suspicion as he spoke, his voice laced with doubt.
"You are not someone from this generation. Who are you, really?"
The old man was visibly startled by Li Haoran's question. He turned to face him, forcing a smile.
"Young man, I've lived here for over twenty years. Ever since I found myself in this place, it has been my home."
Li Haoran responded immediately. "This village fell a long time ago. How can you bear to stay here? Look around—it's completely lifeless, with even the sunlight denied to this place. The buildings are in ruins, and all that surrounds you are remote, gloomy slopes. Outside, the world is beautiful, and you wouldn't have to live like a prisoner. Why not try leaving and making a life beyond these walls?"
"Son, there are many things that need to be explained but cannot be explained. There are also things that, even when explained, still cannot be understood," the old man replied, his voice calm and confident. "It is too dangerous to remain here. Let us talk somewhere safer. Whatever your purpose is in coming here, I may be able to help you."
Li Haoran wasn't sure whether to trust the old man, but his tone sounded genuine.
It was true—he had a purpose for coming here, and despite his strength, he was unfamiliar with the labyrinthine dangers of this place.
The old man, having lived here for twenty years, undoubtedly possessed knowledge and secrets about the area that Li Haoran did not.
Not wanting to let the opportunity slip away, Li Haoran nodded in agreement. The old man immediately turned and led him toward the shelter where he had been hiding for the past twenty years.
In the deepest corner of the village, there was a place where towering, sharp-tipped rocks stood upright.
Five steep stones encircled a stone gateway, its door fashioned from solid rock. Wild plants and tangled vines hung like a curtain, shielding the entrance from view.
Li Haoran paused, gazing up at the jagged, towering crags and the yawning mouth of the tunnel. Despite the village's graveyard silence, a small pocket of life still persisted within its shadows.
Interesting.
The old man insisted, calmly gesturing toward the passage.
"The rocks serve as an added defense against the giant monster. In my home, you'll be safe here," he said, gently guiding Li Haoran toward the entrance.
Li Haoran remained silent, but truth be told, he was impressed by the old man's ingenuity.
Upon reaching the entrance, the old man immediately pushed the only wide, round stone. This served as the door's button, whether from the outside or inside.
The old man gestured inside once more with genuine warmth. Li Haoran stepped in, and the old man followed, pausing to ensure the stone door was securely closed behind them.
They entered a spacious chamber lined with all sorts of books, most of them worn and ancient.
Bright lanterns illuminated the room, with small torches set in the corners to further light the stone walls.
Li Haoran turned to the old man when he noticed several strange objects—items he couldn't fully identify—resting on a spacious stone table beside the old bookshelf.
His suspicion deepened as he took in the objects—celestial globes, obsidian mirrors, and astrological charts—arranged neatly on the table.
"These things clearly don't belong to ordinary people—they're tools for divination. You're only pretending. Who exactly are you?
The old man answered calmly, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I was once an astrologer... a long, long time ago."