novellaaa Chapter 232 Now, we can truly say we've entered the ditch!
Chapter 232 Now, we can truly say we've entered the ditch!
Chapter 232 Now, we can truly say we've entered the ditch! (4000)
A trace of the night's chill still lingered around the fire.
But as the sun gradually climbed to its zenith, that chill seemed to be suppressed by something invisible.
The fact that it spread so slowly only made people feel more uneasy.
After Lu Yuan finished saying "Depart at noon," he said no more. He just lowered his head, tore open the dry food in his hand, and slowly chewed it, as if he was resting his spirits or reviewing the road ahead in his mind.
Lin Zhaoxuan and the other two were clearly unable to calm down.
Zhou Heng would occasionally glance up towards the mouth of the ditch, his fingers unconsciously stroking the hilt of his sword.
Song Qinghe carefully put the Tai Chi Sealing Plate away from her body, and then gently smoothed out several yellow talismans one by one, as if afraid of disturbing something.
Lin Zhaoxuan was the quietest, simply closing his eyes to regulate his breathing. His chest rose and fell more steadily than before, but the doubt weighing on his brows did not dissipate at all.
Xu Erxiao and Wang Chengan didn't dare to be idle either.
One of them stomped out the remaining ashes from last night, while the other hung the water bag back on his waist, his eyes showing a hint of tension.
When the sun finally shone on the top of the old willow tree, Lu Yuan finally stood up and clapped the crumbs off his palm.
"Walk.
He uttered a single word, crisp and decisive.
The group immediately packed their belongings and lined up again to head deeper into the Savage Valley.
Once they emerged from the shadow of the old willow tree, everyone truly realized that something was amiss in the ditch.
Previously, when I rested under the tree by the fire, I only felt that the air was gloomy and the wind was cold.
But once you embark on the path inward, the surrounding scenery suddenly transforms from "desolate" to "evil".
The soil beneath my feet was black, as if it had been soaked in blood for years, or as if it had buried too many corpses. There was no softness or gentleness when I stepped on it.
Instead, there's always a strange, slightly rebounding force, like something hidden underground, pressing against the soles of your feet.
The mountain walls on both sides are no longer just ordinary rocks, but are covered with mottled red marks.
The red marks were not bright; instead, they resembled the dark red of old cloth that had been repeatedly stained by blood, smoke, and incense ash over the years, hanging thinly on the cracks in the rocks, bushes, and withered branches.
When the wind blows, it makes a very faint "rustling" sound.
As the crowd drew closer, they realized that what they saw were not naturally occurring things at all, but rather strips of faded red cloth.
Some were tied to trees, some were wrapped around rock corners, and some were simply half-buried in the mud, with only the edges showing.
Swaying slightly in the wind, they resembled open mouths.
"What is this thing—"
Zhou Heng muttered something under his breath, his voice extremely low but still tense.
Wang Cheng'an swallowed hard, staring at the red ribbons, his expression grim: "They look like summoning banners, but they don't."
Lu Yuan didn't turn around, but simply said, "It's not a soul-summoning banner."
"It's a cloth for suppressing evil spirits."
"Unfortunately, it can only be maintained for a time, not forever."
As he spoke, he pointed to a crooked, withered tree on his left.
Everyone looked in that direction and immediately stopped involuntarily.
The tree was also wrapped in red cloth.
The strips of cloth had long since turned black and brittle, yet they were still wrapped tightly around the tree trunk, as if someone had used all their strength to bind some unseen evil thing to this spot.
The bark was marked with deep grooves, revealing a faint grayish-white wood underneath, like bone.
Even more bizarrely, there was a broken clay bowl placed under the tree.
There was no water in the bowl, but there was a little moldy and brownish stuff left, like incense ash or congealed blood.
Lu Yuan glanced at it, but didn't stop walking. He just added in a low voice, "I'm afraid someone really used this place as a place of worship in the past."
"Red cloth isn't for happy occasions; it's used to weigh things down."
"But after suppressing it for so many years, it can't be suppressed anymore; instead, it has made the yin energy even stronger."
The moment those words were spoken, the air seemed to grow even heavier.
The group continued walking forward, and the further they went in, the more red cloths they saw.
Some strips of cloth were hung very high, lying between two trees, and were blown by the wind like a semi-transparent net.
Some of them became blood-red knots of varying shades, tangled among the vines, as if someone had specially woven countless red nets in this ravine, trying to trap something here.
But the further inside the red cloth went, the paler and weaker it appeared.
Because there were several wooden stakes standing by the mountain path not far away.
The wooden stakes varied in height, were black in color, and were covered with rusty iron nails.
Each wooden stake was topped with a small piece of red cloth, the corners of which drooped and were torn to shreds by the mountain wind.
What's most unsettling is that the soil under the wooden stakes has been turned over, as if someone had been buried there and then repeatedly dug up.
Song Qinghe, standing at the back, looked noticeably paler and said softly, "This doesn't look like a mountain path."
"It's like—like a road specifically for delivering offerings."
Upon hearing this, Lin Zhaoxuan's expression darkened. He remained silent, but slowly pressed his palm onto the Thunder Token.
It was nearly noon.
Logically speaking, the yang energy is at its peak at noon, so even if the mountains are yin, there should still be some power to suppress evil spirits.
But in the Wild Man Gully, the sun seemed to have been swallowed up by the mountain pass, leaving only a layer of pale white light shining down on the ground.
Instead of adding warmth, it made the red cloths appear even redder and darker, like old blood just pulled from the water.
The wind stopped.
As soon as we stopped, the surroundings became excessively quiet, so quiet that we could hear everyone's footsteps and the sound of clothes brushing against dry grass.
It was so quiet that you could hear some faint, indescribable "soft sounds" coming from deeper within.
It looked like someone was dragging something in the distance.
It sounded like someone was breathing softly.
Zhou Heng stopped abruptly, a chill running down his spine. He couldn't help but whisper, "Fellow Daoist Lu—did you hear me?"
Lu Yuan had already raised his hand to signal everyone to stop.
He stood at the front of the group, his gaze sharp as a knife, slowly sweeping across the mountain pass half-hidden behind a red cloth.
There, beside the originally narrow stone path, stood a dilapidated stone wall.
The stone wall was covered with countless yellow talismans, some of which were over 100 years old. The paper had long since turned black and brittle, with the edges curled up.
Some were even half-dry from the wind, like faces stuck to the stone.
In the center of the stone wall hung a large, heavily faded red cloth.
That red cloth is the strangest.
The other red cloths were only dark red, but this one was too bright, as if it had just been dyed.
Dark stains seemed to seep into the fabric, and as it swayed gently in the wind, it looked as if blood was slowly seeping out from within.
Lu Yuan stared at the red cloth for a couple of moments, then suddenly narrowed his eyes.
"Don't look."
His voice was very low.
But just as he uttered those two words, the red cloth seemed to be suddenly ripped open from the inside by something, and flipped over on its own with a "whoosh".
Behind the cloth, there was nothing at all.
But on the empty stone wall surface, there was a row of very shallow, very fine marks, as if they had been scratched out with a fingernail.
The characters, crooked and twisted, formed several words that no one could recognize.
When the wind blew, the scratches seemed to still have some lingering dampness, and they twitched slightly like living things.
Zhou Heng felt a chill run down his spine and almost cursed out loud.
Song Qinghe's breathing quickened, and her hand was already on the sealing disc in her bosom.
Lin Zhaoxuan's eyes narrowed, and lightning energy almost overflowed from between his fingers.
Lu Yuan did not immediately touch the stone wall.
He stood there, his gaze sweeping down the row of scratches, his brow furrowing slightly.
"It's not a word."
He said in a low voice.
"These marks were made by scratching randomly when calling for help."
Upon hearing this, everyone felt a chill run down their spines.
Lu Yuan slowly took two steps forward, the black soil under his feet making a soft sound as he stepped on it, like stepping on a layer of half-dried skin.
The red cloth beneath the stone wall was lifted slightly by the wind, revealing more dark and mottled marks behind it.
That's not a complete wall.
It was more like a makeshift ward off evil spirits, with stones piled up haphazardly and the gaps filled with talisman ash, cinnabar, and peach wood chips.
There are also many pieces of yellow paper that have long been soaked in blood and moisture.
And leaning against the wall was a skeleton.
The skeleton was half-buried in the withered leaves, with a tattered Taoist robe still hanging on its body. The cloud patterns on the sleeves had long since faded to gray-black, but the collar edge could still be vaguely seen to be in the style of the Taoist sect.
Two ribs were broken in his chest, and his left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, as if it had been broken by something.
The most striking feature was the right hand of that skeleton.
His five fingers were tightly curled up, and a small, rusted copper bell was stuck between his knuckles.
The bell was cracked and the clapper was gone, but there were scattered pieces of copper next to it, which clearly belonged to some kind of small magical artifact used to capture souls and ward off evil spirits.
Zhou Heng froze upon seeing the skeleton, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"The Dao, the Daoist sect—"
Lin Zhaoxuan didn't speak, but stared at the severed arm, his expression extremely somber.
Lu Yuan squatted down, but instead of touching the bones directly, he reached into the mud beside him and pulled out a broken piece of wood.
The wooden handle was wrapped with vermilion thread, which had been burned until it was brittle, with a few charred thunder patterns remaining at the ends.
"Thunderwood handle."
Lu Yuan glanced at it and said indifferently.
"Used as a lightning-attracting talisman to break through yin obstacles."
He then looked to his left, where a long sword lay lying on its side.
The scabbard had long since rotted away, leaving only half of the black iron tip.
The sword was stuck diagonally into the ground, and the exposed section of the spine was covered with fine nicks, as if it had been repeatedly gnawed by something.
Several tassels lay scattered beside the sword, their cores torn to shreds, and crooked, incomplete thunder inscriptions still faintly visible on the paper.
Zhou Heng gasped.
"This was a tough battle."
Lu Yuan nodded, stood up, and looked forward again.
The further in you go, the more skeletons you find.
It wasn't just one or two scattered remains, but rather remnants that could be seen every dozen or so steps along both sides of the mountain path.
Some skeletons leaned against the cracks in the rocks, with broken battle flags pressed beneath them. The Big Dipper symbols painted on the flags had been soaked in blood and turned into a mess.
Some knelt on the ground, their hands still in the mudra position, with a broken copper coin embedded between their metacarpal bones.
There was an even more gruesome body, almost torn in half at the waist, with its spine turned outwards and five extremely deep claw marks clearly visible on its chest.
It was as if he was attacked and killed by some kind of ghost before he died, and he didn't even have time to fully activate his protective aura.
Further down the rocky slope, there was a pile of charred remains.
Lu Yuan walked over and took a look, recognizing it as a talisman lamp.
The lamp frame had long since collapsed, and the lamp oil had long since dried up. Only a few pieces of burnt, curled talisman paper remained stuck to the iron frame, blackened and looking like clumps of burned souls.
"They've been here before, and more than once."
Lu Yuan said slowly, "These marks in front are at least ten years old."
"Some were trapped and died, some fought to the death, and some were caught up with halfway through their retreat."
Lu Yuan gently brushed aside a piece of rubble, revealing a broken Bagua mirror underneath.
The mirror was already cracked, with the cracks creeping from the middle to the edge, but the vermilion runes on the back of the mirror had not completely faded.
A small section of black hair hung on the edge of the mirror; it was dry and brittle, and no one knew whose it was.
Song Qinghe looked at the broken mirror, and her eyes couldn't help but redden.
"They—want to seal this place off."
"right."
Lu Yuan's voice was steady, yet it carried a chill.
"We're not here to scout ahead, we're here to reinforce the formation and ward off evil."
He raised his hand and pointed to the broken strips of cloth, wooden plaques, sword tassels, and lamp ribs at his feet and on both sides.
"Look at these things, they are clearly a scheme put together by several groups of Taoist cultivators, independent practitioners, and even folk exorcists."
"Someone set up an evil-blocking array in front, and someone buried a demon-suppressing stake behind. Fire-starting talismans were laid on the ground, and protective talismans were pasted on the stone wall."
"They did fight hard."
"Even with all our might, we couldn't kill the thing inside."
After he said that, everyone fell silent.
The wind had risen again, and as it blew through the faded red cloth, it created a very light and delicate rustling sound, like the low breathing of countless dead souls.
Lin Zhaoxuan slowly squatted down and picked up half a broken jade pendant from beside a skeleton.
Only a broken character "玄" remained on the jade plaque, with dark brown stains on the edges, resembling blood or mud.
He stared at it for a long time before saying in a hoarse voice, "This is the altar-guarding plaque of the Taoist sect."
Zhou Heng's expression changed completely. His lips moved, but he ultimately didn't say anything.
Lu Yuan glanced at Lin Zhaoxuan, then suddenly reached out and picked up a broken piece of the staff from the ground.
The staff head was made of peach wood and had been inlaid with thunder sand, but now it has been bitten in half by something.
The broken ends of the wood were curled up, leaving behind an extremely cold and gloomy atmosphere.
"This was not done by an ordinary evil spirit."
Lu Yuan slowly said, "The fact that you can suppress the altar, break the lightning, shatter the mirror, and break the sword to this extent shows that the thing below cannot be suppressed by brute force."
"It knows how to wear people down, how to entice them, and how to gradually drain their strength."
He threw the broken staff back to the ground, and for the first time, a genuine sense of seriousness appeared in his eyes.
"Moreover, the fact that there are so many old marks left in this ditch shows that the people who were defeated before suffered a terrible defeat."
"They didn't retire, they died here."
As soon as he finished speaking, a very faint sound came from the end of the stone path ahead.
It was as if the wind had stirred something.
It looked like something slowly turned over from behind that pile of white bones and red cloth.
After the sound rang out, Wang Cheng'an, Xu Erxiao, and Lin Zhaoxuan all looked up at the end with great tension.
Their hands also touched their magical artifacts.
Lu Yuan, however, did not react much. He simply stared at the end of the stone path and took a deep breath.
Now, we can truly say we've entered the ditch!