Nine Desolate Records

The passage behind the hidden door was longer than I had imagined.

At first, there were man-made steps, rough stone steps leading down one after another, with chisel marks still visible on the walls on both sides. But after walking about a hundred steps, the stone steps disappeared, and the passage turned into a natural cave. The cave walls were damp, seeping with dark green water, which dripped down the cracks in the stone, making a monotonous "drip, drip" sound in the silence.

Lin Qingyuan took out a luminous pearl from his bag. It was the size of an egg and emitted a faint, cold light that could barely illuminate three feet in front of him.

The cold light shone on the cave walls, revealing a strange sight: embedded in the rock strata were countless tiny black crystals, arranged in spirals, extending inwards like the skeletal fossils of some enormous creature. Deeper still, faint dark red veins could be seen flowing slowly through the rock strata, like blood vessels.

"This is..." Lin Qingyuan reached out to touch the cave wall, but as soon as his fingertips touched the black crystals, he quickly pulled them back. "It's so hot."

Lu Li also reached out and tried it. The crystal surface was cool, but the moment he touched it, a surge of heat erupted from within the crystal, rushing up his fingertips and straight to his arm. The heat wasn't the burning of flames, but rather more like a living energy, slowly circulating within the crystal.

The lock on his chest throbbed violently at that moment.

It felt like my heart was being struck by a heavy hammer.

"These crystals..." Lu Li withdrew his hand, looking at his fingertips. A small patch of black lines appeared on his skin, but faded away after a few breaths. "They are breathing."

"What?" Lin Qingyuan didn't hear clearly.

"They're breathing," Lu Li repeated, his voice trembling slightly. "I can feel them, like living things, rhythmically contracting and expanding. Each contraction absorbs geothermal heat; each expansion releases energy. The whole mountain is alive."

Lin Qingyuan's expression was solemn. He raised the luminous pearl and shone it into the depths of the passage. Wherever the cold light reached, the black crystals were densely packed, stretching all the way to the end of his vision.

"Let's go quickly," Lin Qingyuan said. "We can't stay here any longer."

The two quickened their pace. The passageway began to narrow, and in some places, they had to squeeze through sideways. The air grew increasingly humid and hot, carrying a heavy smell of sulfur and another, more pungent odor, like burnt flesh and blood.

The lock on Lu Li's chest throbbed more and more frequently.

Each heartbeat brings a brief moment of dizziness. During these moments of dizziness, fragmented images flash before his eyes:

—A raging flood, with countless figures standing in the water, kneeling and chanting something.

Nine enormous bronze pillars descended from the sky and plunged into the earth, their shafts wrapped in chains.

—A blurry face opens its eyes in the darkness, its eyes filled with pure despair.

The images were intermittent, but each flash sent a chill down Lu Li's spine, as if it were some kind of primal resonance originating from the depths of his blood.

"Are you alright?" Lin Qingyuan noticed his unusual behavior.

Lu Li shook his head and continued walking forward. But after a few steps, he suddenly stopped.

The passage ahead has come to an end.

No, it's not the end—it's a landslide. Large rocks have blocked the way.

"The road is blocked." Lin Qingyuan stepped forward to inspect it, tapping the rock with his sword sheath. "It's very thick, at least three zhang (approximately 10 meters). If we try to dig it out by force, we won't have that much time."

Lu Li looked around. On the left side of the passage, there was a narrow crack in the rock wall, just wide enough for one person to squeeze through sideways. From deep within the crack, the faint sound of flowing water could be heard, like an underground river.

"There," he pointed to the crack.

Lin Qingyuan held the luminous pearl closer. There were carvings on the rock at the edge of the crack—arrows carved by humans—pointing into the depths of the crack. Below the arrows was a line of small, now blurred, writing:

"The way out... is north..."

"It's a signpost left by Jiang Yin," Lin Qingyuan said. "Let's go."

He squeezed into the crevice first. The crevice was narrower than it looked, and the rough rocks scraped against his clothes and skin. Lu Li followed behind, the lock mark on his chest throbbing with pain from the pressure.

After squeezing through about ten feet, the view ahead suddenly opened up.

It is a huge underground cave.

Countless stalactites hang from the cave ceiling, water dripping from their tips, which falls into pools on the ground, creating a crisp echo.

A faintly glowing river stretched across the center of the cave, emerging from the ground at one end and meandering into the darkness at the other. The river flowed very slowly, a layer of dark green foam floating on its surface. On both banks grew a strange plant: its stems were jet black, its leaves dark red and shaped like hands.

"This is..." Lin Qingyuan's voice was very low, "...a ley line?"

Lu Li didn't speak. He felt the lock on his chest begin to burn. It burned intensely, as if it would scald through his skin. And in his mind, that broken voice echoed again:

"The River of Blood... the Land of Conception..."

Blood River?

Lu Li looked at the river. Under the cold light of the luminous pearl, the river water did indeed have a very faint pink hue, like diluted blood.

He suddenly understood something.

“This is no ordinary underground river,” he hissed. “It’s the veins of the mountain.”

As soon as the words were spoken, the dark red plants on the riverbank suddenly began to move. It wasn't a slight sway; the entire plant was pulled out of the soil—the roots weren't rootlets, but countless tiny, pale fingers. They used those fingers to "walk" towards the two of them, not fast, but in a way that was so bizarre it sent chills down one's spine.

Lin Qingyuan instantly drew his sword and stood in front of Lu Li. Although the sapphire on the sword was dim, it still shone faintly.

The plants stopped when they were about three zhang away from the two of them. Then, they slowly bent their stems, not by the wind, but by their own conscious, deliberate bending, like a person bowing. The direction they faced was not towards Lu Li, but towards the lock mark on Lu Li's chest.

Just then, the river began to churn.

In the middle of the river, a cloud of dark red mist rose. The mist condensed and twisted in the air, finally forming a blurry human-shaped outline.

Its outline had no facial features, only a pair of eyes, pure black, staring at Lu Li.

A voice came from the outline of the mist, not through the air, but directly into their minds:

"The gatekeeper...is gone...the new anchor...has been erected..."

The voices overlapped, as if countless people were speaking at the same time, men and women, young and old.

Lin Qingyuan gripped his sword even tighter: "What are you?"

"We... are the prisoners'... memories..." the misty silhouette answered, "For three thousand years... all the souls eroded and devoured by it... the remaining fragments... have gathered here... guarding this river of blood... waiting... for the arrival of a new anchor..."

Lu Li felt the metal stamped on his chest burning hot, so hot he almost couldn't stand. He gritted his teeth and asked, "What are you waiting for me to do?"

"Waiting for you... to inherit..." The misty silhouette slowly approached, "The prisoner's three thousand years of memories... three thousand years of pain, anger, despair... and... three thousand years of scheming..."

"I don't need it." Lu Li took a step back.

"A portion of the prisoner's essence has become intertwined with your soul. Forcibly separating it will kill you, and your essence will dissipate. But the prisoner will not die; it will only lose a portion of its power. And what it has in abundance... is time." The misty silhouette interrupted him, its voice carrying a sorrowful laugh.

Lu Li's heart sank.

"So... I'm destined to carry this with me until I die?"

"Not only." The misty silhouette drifted in front of him, its dark eyes almost touching his face. "You will live a long time... much longer than ordinary people. Because the Prisoner's essence is nourishing your body, slowing your aging. But the price is... you will slowly hear more of its memories, see more of its past. In the end, you may not be able to distinguish... what is your consciousness and what is itss, until you are completely assimilated by the Prisoner, becoming a part of it, with no trace of your own left."

It paused, then added:

"Just like Jiang Yin." "Just like your father." The last sentence was said to Lin Qingyuan.

Lin Qingyuan's face was deathly pale, but his hand gripping the sword remained steady: "Is there any way to stop it?"

"There are two ways," the misty silhouette said. "First, destroy the anchors that seal the prisoner one by one. When all the anchors are destroyed, the prisoner's true form will break free of the seal. At that time, it will reclaim all the scattered essence, including this part within your body. You will return to being an ordinary person, but the land of Kyushu will become a purgatory."

"What's the second option?" Lu Li asked.

"The second method..." The voice from the misty silhouette suddenly became ethereal, as if it might dissipate at any moment, "...find the descendants of the nine people who sealed the prisoners back then. Use their blood to recast the nine Dragon-Suppressing Pillars. But three thousand years have passed...the bloodlines of those people may have long since died out, or...they may not even exist anymore."

Then it began to dissipate.

The outline of the mist began to transform into tiny specks of light from the edges, which fell into the river, creating ripples. The dark red plants also began to wither, their stems slumping down and turning into a pool of dark red mud.

"Follow the river... north... and you'll get out of the mountains..." The last voice echoed in the cave, "Remember... new anchor... your time... is running out..."

The fog completely dissipated.

The cave returned to silence. Only the sound of the flowing river and the dripping of water from the stalactites could be heard.

Along the riverbank, the mud formed from the plants slowly flowed into the river. As the mud entered the water, the river instantly turned red—not pale pink, but a deep red, like real blood. The red color flowed downstream, and soon the entire river had turned blood red.

Lu Li looked at the river and felt the seal on his chest burning, but the burning was no longer painful; instead, it evoked a strange sense of intimacy. It was as if the river had flowed out of his body itself.

"Let's go." Lin Qingyuan sheathed his sword, his voice weary. "Before anything worse happens."

The two walked north along the riverbank. The riverbank was narrow, and in some places they had to wade into the water. The water was cold, but the moment it touched his skin, Lu Li felt the throbbing of the lock's pulse subside, as if he had been soothed.

After walking for about half an hour, light appeared ahead.

It wasn't the light from a luminous pearl, but natural light, filtering through a crack in the cave ceiling and illuminating a small section of the riverbank. On the bank sat a simple wooden raft with two poles on it.

On the stone wall beside the raft, there is an inscription:

"By rafting downstream, one can reach Linyuan in a day. The old blind man runs a blacksmith's shop in the north of the city, and there is a locust tree in front of his door."

The handwriting, like the arrows in the passage, was left by Jiang Yin.

"Get on the raft." Lin Qingyuan checked the raft; it was sturdy enough.

The two jumped onto the raft and untied the ropes from the stone stakes. The raft slowly drifted away from the riverbank and downstream.

The river was swift, and the raft sped through the underground waters. The rock walls on both sides receded rapidly, and the stalactites overhead resembled countless inverted swords. The further downstream, the wider the river and the slower the current. But the water remained blood red.

Lu Li sat at the bow of the raft, looking at the blood-red river water, and suddenly spoke:

"Senior Brother Lin."

"Um?"

"Why did your father join the rebels back then? Was it really for wealth and power?"

Lin Qingyuan remained silent for a long time.

The raft drifted through a narrow stretch of water, the water splashing loudly. Only when the river widened again did he speak:

"My mother said that when my father was young, he was an idealist. He wanted to change the world, to free ordinary people from the harassment of demons, and to build a world where humans and demons could coexist peacefully."

He paused, his voice low:

"But the reality is that the number of demons is increasing, the Demon Suppression Guards are exhausted, and the imperial court is only thinking about maintaining stability. My father gradually despaired. It was then that he came into contact with the 'Turbid Abyss Cult,' which told him that the reason why demons were rampant was because the fortune of the Nine Provinces was unbalanced. To restore the balance, the existing seal must be broken, the suppressed ancient beings must be released, and the world must be reshuffled."

Lu Li's heart skipped a beat: "Your father is a member of the Turbid Abyss Sect?"

"It used to be," Lin Qingyuan said. "But later he discovered the truth: what the Zhuoyuan Sect wanted to release was not some 'ancient being' that could restore balance, but a pure monster that craved to destroy everything—that was the Prisoner."

He gripped the oar so tightly his knuckles turned white:

"Father wanted to withdraw, but it was too late. The Zhuoyuan Sect used the lives of 30,000 rebels to complete its first sacrifice. As the strategist, Father was forever nailed to the pillar of sinners. He went mad, because of remorse, and also because... the mark of a prisoner was planted within him. Like Jiang Yin, he was corrupted."

The raft drifted into a completely dark section of the river. The light from the luminous pearl could only illuminate the raft itself; all around was pure darkness.

In the darkness, Lin Qingyuan's voice continued:

"My mother told me that in his last moments of lucidity before he died, my father held me and said, 'Qingyuan, don't hate this world. If you must hate, hate those who made the world this way.'"

He took a deep breath:

"Therefore, I do not hate Jiang Yin, I do not hate Xun Wenruo, and I do not even hate the prisoners. I only hate those who are willing to sacrifice countless lives for their own purposes, whether it is the Zhuoyuan Sect, the imperial court, or... those high-ranking so-called guardians."

Lu Li did not speak.

He gazed at the blood-red river, feeling the seal on his chest throbbing slowly. Each throbbing seemed to be an echo of Lin Qingyuan's words.

hatred.

Yes, he also harbors hatred.

He hated his special bloodline, hated those who used him as a pawn, and hated that he was inexplicably forced to bear the fate of the entire world.

But what's the use of hatred?

The raft suddenly began to shake violently.

A whirlpool appeared in the middle of the river ahead.

It wasn't an ordinary whirlpool—its center was hollow and bottomless, while the blood-red river water at its edges swirled wildly, emitting a howling sound. Even more eerie, several dark green specks of light hovered above the whirlpool, moving slowly in the darkness as if on patrol.

"What is that?" Lu Li asked in a low voice.

Lin Qingyuan raised the luminous pearl, its light shining into the sky above the vortex.

The points of light were illuminated, not by light, but by eyes. Seven or eight pale, pupil-less eyes, each the size of a fist, floated in the air, all turning in unison toward the raft.

Below the eyes was a blurry, translucent body, like some kind of giant jellyfish, slowly floating in the air. The body's tentacles drooped into the whirlpool, swirling with the current.

"The Jellyfish That Spys the Path..." A voice echoed in Lu Li's mind, not the voice of the misty outline, but a more fragmented, more indistinct voice, like fragments of a prisoner's memory, "The Eye Guardian of the River... Trespassers... Die..."

As soon as he finished speaking, those eyes simultaneously lit up with a ghastly green light.

The beam of light shone on the raft.

Lin Qingyuan swung his sword to parry, the blade colliding with the beam of light, creating blinding sparks. But there was more than one beam of light; seven or eight ghastly green beams shot from different directions, sealing off all avenues for evasion.

Lu Li grabbed a boat pole and held it horizontally in front of him. The beam of light struck the pole, instantly charring the wood into black ash. But just as the beam of light was about to touch his body, the lock on his chest suddenly erupted with an icy chill.

The chill spread from him, freezing the air wherever it passed, even forming a thin layer of ice on the surface of the flowing river. The pale green beams of light quickly dimmed and dissipated in the chill.

The eyes suspended in mid-air froze completely.

"Anchor...point..." The shattering sound rang out again, but this time it was filled with fear, "New anchor...spare me..."

One by one, the eyes went out, like candles being blown out. The translucent bodies rapidly withered and shriveled, finally turning into wisps of black smoke and dissipating into the darkness.

The whirlpool is still there, but it is no longer dangerous.

The raft successfully drifted through the whirlpool area and entered the next calm section of the river.

Lin Qingyuan sheathed his sword, looked at Lu Li, his eyes filled with complex emotions: "That chill just now..."

"It's the power of the seal," Lu Li said, "or rather... the power of that part of the prisoner's essence."

He looked down at his chest. The lock was still pulsating, but the rhythm was very slow, as if it had exhausted too much energy and fallen into a brief slumber.

"Can you control it?" Lin Qingyuan asked.

"No." Lu Li smiled wryly. "It moved on its own. It's like a... instinctive reaction."

He paused, then added:

"But I can feel that every time I use its power, the fusion between the seal and me deepens. Just now, after the chill dissipated, several fragmented images appeared in my mind—about this river. I know it's called the 'Blood River,' I know it flows through nine nodes beneath the Nine Provinces, and I know it eventually merges into the Ruins of Return..."

He couldn't continue.

Because those images were so clear, so clear that they didn't seem like memories instilled by someone else, but rather like his own personal experiences.

Three thousand years.

The prisoner was sealed away for three thousand years.

Over these three thousand years, how much did it see through those who were corrupted? How much did it remember?

And now, those memories are gradually becoming his memories.

Lu Li closed his eyes, feeling an unfathomable weariness engulf him.

The raft continued to drift downstream.

In the darkness, only the sound of the blood river and the slow throbbing of the lock on his chest could be heard.