Go all out

Chapter 32: The Paintings on the Cave Walls

1Second★Novel§Net.. Org】, read exciting novels for free with no pop-ups! I shared my analysis with Tian Zhan and Yin Fang. After hearing it, they exchanged a glance, and their expressions shifted slightly. Tian Zhan instinctively glanced at the second cave entrance a few times, then asked, “What do you think we’ll find if we take this path?” “Hmm, based on what your facial features indicated just now, that’s the case. But as for exactly what it is, I can’t predict that.” I nodded. Tian Zhan’s Life Palace was glowing, which could indicate many different outcomes. Receiving something was the best-case scenario. Of course, returning safely after taking this path was also a possibility, but that probability was relatively low. “What about this one?” Tian Zhan pointed to the first path. “How confident are you that your master took the first one?” “About seventy percent.” I said, “My master was willing to kill three people to protect whatever it is. Since the three of us are here, he’ll certainly do whatever it takes to protect it too. So the first path is the most likely—after all, more than half the reason the three of us came in was to find my master.” But what puzzled me was: what exactly could be down that second path? Was it what my master was after? I had a vague feeling that something wasn’t quite right, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Tian Zhan nodded and turned to Yin Fang, asking, “So which one do you think we should take?” Yin Fang thought for a moment and said, “The first one. Let’s find his master first.” “Alright, let’s take the first path. But since Xiao Tian has already warned us there might be danger, everyone should be careful,” Tian Zhan nodded. Naturally, I had no objections. Right now, I really wanted to ask my master: Is it really worth killing someone just for some items? Tian Zhan once again sent the paper figure ahead as the vanguard, with the three of us following—Tian Zhan leading the way. I had originally intended to walk at the front to guard against any sudden dangers that might arise from behind. But Yin Fang—whether intentionally or not—ended up at the very back. I knew this was their way of protecting me, and it made me reconsider my opinion of this aloof woman quite a bit. The cave itself hadn’t changed much, but the three of us weren’t as relaxed as we’d been when we first entered. After all, there was danger—the kind that could leave us seriously injured or even kill us—so we had to proceed with extreme caution. Not long after the three of us set off down this path, the beam of Tian Zhan’s powerful flashlight illuminated something on the cave wall—it appeared to be calligraphy and paintings. How could there be calligraphy and paintings in this underground river? Naturally puzzled, the three of us stopped to take a closer look. The artwork was simple—though by “simple” I mean the style was straightforward: just flowers, plants, or trees. The text was written in Small Seal script, but it appeared to be of exceptional quality. As the flashlight swept across the cave wall, I saw that an entire section was covered with these calligraphic works and paintings, arranged one after another like entries in a diary. I was astonished. To be able to create such graceful and simple calligraphy and paintings on stone—and it didn’t appear to be carved, but rather “drawn” directly with some kind of sharp tool—required skills that were absolutely master-level. Yin Fang ran her hand over the calligraphy and paintings on the cave wall, murmuring to herself, “These are quite old—it looks like at least thirty or forty years, maybe even longer…” Upon hearing this, Tian Zhan and I were both startled. “Wasn’t there still water in this Longquan area decades ago?” We both had the same thought at the same moment: these calligraphy and paintings are at least three or four decades old, but back then, this underground river must have still been full of water, right? How could they have been created back then? Did someone come down in a diving suit to paint them? Who would’ve had the equipment for that back then? Unless… I thought back to the scale I’d found when we first entered… “That’s right. Thirty-four years ago, the waters here in Longquan were definitely at their fullest.” Yin Fang said, her eyes flashing, “Which means the calligraphy and paintings on this cave wall were most likely not drawn by a human.” Tian Zhan and I exchanged a startled glance. If they weren’t painted by humans, then who else could have done it? “And it’s highly likely that this Longquan area was once home to a river god!” Yin Fang continued, “But you don’t need to worry. Generally speaking, in a place like Longquan, even if a creature were to accidentally cultivate itself into a spirit, it would likely have a gentle nature. You could even say it would protect this area—it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call such a spirit a river god.” I breathed a slight sigh of relief. Even if a river god—or even a monster—had once lived here, it was no longer our concern. The Longquan Spring had been dry for so long that even a divine being would have had to move elsewhere by now. “Still, it’s strange…” Yin Fang suddenly added. “What’s strange?” Tian Zhan asked instinctively, and I, too, looked at her curiously. “Look at this one.” Yin Fang pointed to one of the paintings. It was drawn with just a few simple strokes—quite abstract—but you could roughly make out that it depicted an animal. It looked like a turtle, but it had the head of a deer, the talons of an eagle, a tail with sharp spines, and a turtle shell on its back studded with several sharp spikes. The creature looked like a bit of a hodgepodge. I’d never seen anything like it, but after Tian Zhan glanced at it a few times, his expression shifted slightly. “Is that Lao Ba?” “I suppose so,” Yin Fang nodded. I was confused. What was this “Lao Ba” all about? I asked myself anxiously, “What’s Lao Ba?” Tian Zhan shook his head. “We’re not entirely sure either. I’ll let you know once we’ve looked into it some more.” Well, I could only nod. Since the two of them weren’t sure either, it was naturally hard to say anything definitive, but I had a vague feeling that this painting of a strange animal must have some connection to what my master was looking for. As the light shone on the cave walls, the paintings continued. Following this image of the strange creature, several consecutive paintings truly resembled a diary, describing the creature’s daily life. One of them left me both amused and exasperated: the creature was holding an ancient bamboo slip in one paw, while the other hand was actually holding a teacup—it looked just like a person at Starbucks sipping tea while holding a cell phone. However, after a few scenes depicting daily life, the “mood” of the paintings shifted. The next illustration didn’t feature the strange creature; instead, it depicted a river with plenty of water. But in the following illustration, the water level had dropped to half, and by the next one, the river had dried up entirely, exposing its rocky bed—a rather desolate sight. Could this be depicting the drought from nineteen years ago? I was filled with astonishment, and Tian Zhan also looked taken aback. The next painting surprised me even more: the strange creature stood by the riverbank, looking down at the dry riverbed. Its face, sketched with just a few strokes, was filled with sorrow. Yet behind it, a man in ancient attire suddenly appeared in the corner of the painting. In the next painting, the strange creature and the man in ancient attire were face to face. A look of surprise and delight spread across the creature’s face. The human and the spirit seemed to be conversing, but what puzzled me was that the man in ancient attire had no facial features—only a silhouette. “Zhang Daoling?” Tian Zhan muttered to himself. “Is this Zhang Daoling?” I blurted out instinctively. Yin Fang ran her hand over the painting, her face also filled with astonishment. “The lines and colors in this painting are slightly lighter than in the previous ones. It was painted relatively recently—probably about twenty years ago.” So does that mean that legendary Zhang Daoling actually came because of that severe drought? Then what about me? How did I end up here? Filled with urgency, I quickly turned to the next painting. It depicted a man in ancient attire standing on a Taoist altar—still without any facial features—with five flags planted on the altar. The man held two more flags in his hands, as if performing a ritual to “call for rain.” “Zhang Daoling is performing a ritual to pray for rain,” Tian Zhan said. I nodded. Given the situation, it was almost certain that Zhang Daoling could no longer stand by and watch, so he had no choice but to pray for rain. The next painting showed a scene of swirling snow. The man in ancient attire was gazing up at the sky, while a strange creature beside him wore a puzzled expression, as if wondering why, after praying for rain, it had started snowing instead. However, the next panel was just an empty frame—nothing at all. Did he not have time to draw it? Or did he simply forget? “Xiao Tian, look.” Tian Zhan pointed his bright flashlight at the last few panels in surprise. I glanced over at them. All five paintings depicted the same scene: the first showed a snowy mountainside, followed by a row of footprints—but the owner of those footprints was nowhere to be seen. The third painting, however, left me speechless. Heavy snow was still falling from the sky. On the thick blanket of snow lay a baby swaddled in a blanket. His clothes were already covered in a thick layer of white snow. He was cold, so he was wailing loudly. Suddenly, a wolf emerged from behind a tree. She circled the infant, then wrapped her body around him. The baby was starving, so he instinctively began to suckle the wolf’s milk. The wolf licked the baby’s head with her tongue; her facial expression, though simply sketched, conveyed a touch of tenderness. Is... is that baby me?? But how did I come to be here? In an instant, a mix of bitterness and bewilderment welled up in my heart, bringing tears to my eyes. But the next scene left me even more bewildered. In the image, the she-wolf was still nursing the infant, completely unaware of the danger. Yet behind her, four men armed with weapons suddenly appeared… A few words. [One Second ★ Novel § Net.. Org], read exciting novels for free with no pop-ups! By now, everyone should know what this chapter means. Um… this book is now paywalled. Let me put it simply: if you read a book at a rate of just five fen per thousand characters, it’ll cost you about the price of a pack of cigarettes or a duck leg meal per month. My point with this analogy is straightforward—I just want you to know that reading a book is actually quite affordable. But that money you’d spend on a pack of cigarettes or a meal is what keeps me motivated to keep writing this book. With your support, the plot will become even more interesting and captivating. I write part-time—my day job keeps me pretty busy—and I actually started this book on a whim, just to get a change of pace… If this book does well, I’ll consider going full-time. The benefit of going full-time is that I’ll post at least three updates a day, so you’ll all get to enjoy it even more. But all of this depends on each of you spending just a few mao a day to support me. Your daily contribution of a few mao to read this book is my motivation—I’m begging for your support… Alright, tomorrow I’ll post at least five updates, and there’ll be red envelopes up for grabs, too. Alright, next up—as is customary—here’s how to top up your account. 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