Nine Desolate Records

When we returned to the mountain villa, it was already broad daylight.

Morning light filtered through the bamboo grove, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The sounds of roosters crowing and dogs barking continued unabated in the village. Several men in short clothes chopped wood and carried water in the courtyard, everything as usual, as if the dramatic confrontation on the mountain the previous night had never happened.

But Lu Li knew things were different.

The lock on his chest was faintly burning, its throbbing rhythm with each heartbeat. The feeling wasn't pain, but rather... a kind of resonance. It was as if an organ that didn't belong to him was slowly and stubbornly integrating into his life cycle.

Even more strangely, he could hear sounds.

It wasn't a sound he heard with his ears, but a sound that appeared directly in his mind—very soft, very indistinct, like a sob coming through a thick layer of water. Sometimes it was a few broken syllables, sometimes an unintelligible murmur. The clearest time was on the way down the mountain, when he heard a sentence:

"...The...North...of...the...Frosty Abyss..."

He didn't understand what it meant, but the despair in the voice was so real that it sent chills down his spine.

"The master is waiting for you." The scarred man stood at the entrance of the main room, his face still expressionless, but with a hint of complexity in his eyes. "Go in."

Lin Qingyuan, his hand on the hilt of his sword, led the way into the main hall. Lu Li followed closely behind.

The room was darker than yesterday—the windows were covered with thick black cloth, leaving only a crack through which a faint light shone. Jiang Yin was still half-leaning against the bed, wrapped in the thick quilt, but today he had something extra in his hand.

It is a lamp.

The lamp base was made of bronze, rusted and worn. The lamp dish contained semi-solidified dark red grease, and the wick was some kind of black fiber, burning with a small green flame. As the flame flickered, it cast distorted shadows on the wall. These shadows were not Jiang Yin's outline, but rather resembled struggling human figures.

"You're back?" Jiang Yin asked, his voice even hoarser than yesterday. "Is the altar repaired?"

Lin Qingyuan didn't answer, he just stared at him.

Lu Li took a step forward, unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the lock mark on his chest.

Black runes were branded onto the skin, their edges still slightly red, as if they had just been applied. In the center of the runes, fine lines could be faintly seen flowing slowly, like a living thing breathing.

Jiang Yin stared at the mark, remaining silent for a long time.

The wrinkles on his face, illuminated by the green lamplight, appeared as deep as if carved by a knife. For the first time, his frighteningly bright eyes showed a different emotion—not shock, not anger, but a profound, almost compassionate weariness.

"So that's how it is..." he murmured, "Xun Wenruo... you really are... ruthless."

"What do you mean?" Lu Li asked. "What exactly is this?"

Jiang Yin slowly sat up in bed, a simple action that triggered a violent cough. After coughing for a while, he finally calmed down and reached out to pull back the covers.

The abnormality in my legs is more severe than yesterday.

The bluish-black scales had spread to the base of his thighs, and the area below his knees was completely deformed—no longer human legs, but two thick, scale-covered snake tails. The ends of the tails still retained the shape of feet, but the toes had grown complete webbing. The two eyes on his calves were now fully open, their pupils pure black, staring intently at the lock mark on Lu Li's chest.

"What is this?" Lin Qingyuan's voice was tense.

"This is the price," Jiang Yin said. "The price of the gatekeeper. And also... the prisoner's blessing."

He reached out and stroked the scales on his leg: "Thirty years ago, I promised Xun Wenruo that I would guard this mountain for him and protect the things in it. He said that as long as I guarded it for thirty years, he would find a way to completely solve the problem. He said that during these thirty years, the mountain would slowly erode my body, but I should not resist, but accept it and let the mountain think that I have become a part of it."

"So this is how you ended up?" Lu Li looked at the two eyes on his legs, and his stomach churned.

"It's not just the body." Jiang Yin smiled, a bleak smile. "It's also memories, perception, and even... a part of consciousness. That thing in the mountains, it's so lonely. For three thousand years, locked in the dark, sunless earth, it could only survive on occasional sacrifices. It longed for companionship, longed for someone to understand its pain. So it eroded everyone who came near it, trying to turn that person into its... kind."

The green light flickered.

The shadows on the wall suddenly twisted more violently, and the human-shaped shadows began to tear and devour each other, emitting a silent shriek.

"Your father," Jiang Yin looked at Lin Qingyuan, "is the one who was completely corrupted. He couldn't hold onto his true self; he accepted the mountain's gifts, accepted those memories and perceptions that didn't belong to humankind. He went mad because the consciousness of two people existed in his mind at the same time—his own, and that of the thing in the mountain."

Lin Qingyuan's face was as white as paper.

"So, in the end, he..."

"In the end, the two parts of his consciousness clashed," Jiang Yin said. "One wanted to continue being human, and the other wanted to become a monster completely. The result of the conflict was... his body collapsed. When he died, his internal organs were all empty, not because he was eaten, but because his body couldn't withstand the tearing between the two consciousnesses and disintegrated from the inside."

He paused, then added, "That's why he had someone take that copper coin out and keep you away from here. He knew that if his son came, his fate would be even worse than his."

"And what about you?" Lu Li asked, "Why didn't you go crazy?"

"Because I've been resisting." Jiang Yin pointed to the eyes on his legs. "See? These two eyes are the mountain's 'monitoring cameras.' They're watching me all the time, trying to erode my consciousness. But I used a clumsy method—"

He rolled up his trouser leg, revealing the inside of his thigh.

The area was covered with intricate runes, not drawn with cinnabar, but carved directly into the flesh with a knife. The wounds had long since healed, but the scars remained clearly visible. The runes were layered upon each other, like some kind of seal.

"Soul-Suppressing Seals," Jiang Yin said. "Whenever I feel my consciousness beginning to blur, and the sound of the mountains about to drown out my own, I carve one. The pain keeps me alert, and the suppressive power of the runes temporarily shields me from the mountains' perception. In thirty years, I've carved three hundred and seventy-nine."

He pulled down his trouser leg, his voice weary: "But in the last six months, it's been useless. The mountain's erosion has seeped into my very bones, and no amount of runes can suppress it. I can feel that in three months at most, I will completely lose myself and become a part of the mountain—a puppet without consciousness, only able to obey its commands."

Silence fell in the room.

Only the green lights flickered, and the shadows on the wall continued to tear silently apart.

"So," Lu Li slowly began, "you tricked us into going to repair the altar not to suppress what's in the mountain, but to... let it out?"

"Not entirely." Jiang Yin shook his head. "I wanted you to complete the altar and temporarily reinforce the seal. But I didn't expect that the scale beneath the altar... was a trap deliberately left by the prisoner."

He looked at the lock mark on Lu Li's chest with a complicated expression: "That scale contains a part of the prisoner's 'origin.' When the incomplete copy of the 'Yu Gong Tu' completes the altar, that scale will be activated, and the origin within will seek the nearest and suitable 'container' to attach itself to."

"I am that container," Lu Li said.

"Yes." Jiang Yin nodded. "And it's the most suitable vessel—because you already have a 'mark' on you that originates from the same source as the prisoner. That's why your blood can intimidate it. So when the source was released from the scales, it chose you immediately."

He paused, then smiled wryly, "But Xun Wenruo must have expected this long ago. The dagger he gave you wasn't an ordinary Dragon-Suppressing Dagger at all—it was a 'Soul-Locking Dagger,' specifically designed to seal and contain primordial power. When you plunged it into your chest, you became a living seal, locking that part of the prisoner's primordial power within your own body."

Lu Li recalled the feeling when the dagger pierced him—no pain, only a cold, viscous darkness surging into his body. It wasn't blood, but something more essential, which directly merged into his meridians, bones, and even his soul.

"So now..." He looked down at his chest, "Is part of that thing sealed inside my body?"

"More than that," Jiang Yin said, "more importantly, you became the prisoner's 'anchor point'."

"Anchor point?"

"That's right." Jiang Yin looked out the window, his gaze seemingly piercing through the wall and looking towards the mountains. "The prisoner was chained underground by King Yu with nine chains, each chain connected to an 'anchor point,' which dispersed and suppressed its power. For three thousand years, it has been trying to break free, but the nine anchor points counterbalance each other, preventing it from breaking free from any one of them with full force."

"But in recent decades, one anchor point after another has run into problems," Lin Qingyuan continued. "The abandoned graveyard of Bailu Academy was the first, and the Sword Tomb of Shu Mountain and the Ruins of the East Sea have also shown unusual activity one after another—this is what you mentioned in the message you received earlier."

Lu Li nodded.

"And now, you've become a new anchor point." Jiang Yin turned back, staring at Lu Li, "A living, moving anchor point. The Prisoner's part of his essence is within you, so it can perceive the outside world through you, and even... influence it. More importantly, because you're different from the other eight anchor points, you're alive, so the Prisoner can slowly weaken the seal by eroding you."

"So now... am I still human?" Lu Li asked the most fundamental question.

Jiang Yin remained silent for a long time.

"I don't know," he finally said. "All I can say is that you're currently in some kind of intermediate state between being a person and a prisoner. Your body has sealed off some of its power, but those powers are also transforming your body. How long this process will last, and what it will ultimately become, nobody knows."

He paused, then added, "But one thing is certain—the guardians of the other eight anchors will come after you. In their eyes, you're not a hero; you're the biggest threat. A living anchor, potentially controlled by prisoners, is more dangerous than ten problematic fixed anchors."

The shadow on the wall suddenly froze.

The human figures that were tearing at each other all turned towards the doorway.

Almost simultaneously, a short, agonizing scream came from the courtyard.

Then came the dull thud of a heavy object falling to the ground.

The scarred man roared, "Who goes there?!"

Then came the crisp sound of clashing weapons, and the footsteps of many more people—not the footsteps of the men in short clothes from the village, but the orderly, well-trained steps of at least a dozen people.

Lin Qingyuan had already drawn his sword and moved to the door, peering through the crack. His expression changed after just one glance.

"Demon-hunting Guards," he whispered. "At least fifteen people, and the leader... is a Xuan-level expert."

Lu Li's heart tightened.

A Xuan-level Demon-Slaying Guard possesses at least the mid-stage of the Dharma Aspect Realm and is capable of leading a small squad. How could such a figure suddenly appear in this deep mountain forest?

"They're here for you," Jiang Yin said calmly. "Xun Wenruo spread the word. Or rather... he deliberately sent you here so that the Demon-Slaying Guards would 'discover' you."

"Why?" Lu Li didn't understand.

"Only in this way can you legitimately leave Cangwu Mountain and go to the next place." Jiang Yin sat up straight on the bed, his mutated legs slowly moving to the edge of the bed. "The Demon-Slaying Guard will arrest you and escort you back to headquarters. And there, there is the next place you need to go—the second anchor point."

Lin Qingyuan turned around abruptly: "You mean, all of this was part of Xun Wenruo's calculations?"

"From the beginning of thirty years ago, everything was calculated." Jiang Yin smiled, but his smile was full of bitterness. "I just didn't expect him to use this method... to treat everyone as pawns."

The fighting in the courtyard grew increasingly intense.

But soon, the sounds began to fade—not because it was over, but because the men in short clothes in the village were retreating steadily. The Demon-Slaying Guards were well-trained and well-equipped, and these mountain folk could not withstand them.

"Go through the back door." Jiang Yin pointed to the wall on the other side of the room. "There's a hidden door there, leading to a secret passage in the back mountain. Follow the passage straight down to the foot of the mountain. Once you're out of the mountain, head north. There's a city called Lin Yuan, about 300 miles away. Go there and find a blacksmith called 'Old Blind Man'."

"The old blind man?"

"Tell him that Jiang Yin sent you. He will give you something—a cloak that can temporarily shield you from the seal's aura. With that cloak, the Demon-Slaying Guards will be unable to track you."

Jiang Yin took out a wooden plaque from his pocket and tossed it to Lu Li. The plaque was old, with its edges worn smooth. The front was engraved with the character "Jiang," and the back had a simple map—the route from Cangwu Mountain to Linyuan City.

"And what about you?" Lu Li took the wooden plaque.

"Me?" Jiang Yin looked out the window. In the courtyard, the last man in short clothes had collapsed. The scarred man was still struggling to stay upright, but he had already been surrounded by three demon-hunting guards, and his body was covered in wounds.

"My thirty years have come to an end."

He slowly stood up.

The legs, now completely transformed into snake tails, slid and undulated across the ground with a rustling sound. The two eyes on the legs were now wide open, their pupils reflecting the green light, and also a kind of... liberation.

"Remember, young man." Jiang Yin looked at Lu Li, his eyes clearer than ever before. "You are not a pawn, not a sacrifice, not a seal. You are simply you. No matter what's inside you, no matter what others say about you, you must remember—you are first and foremost a human being."

He turned and walked toward the door.

"What are you going to do?" Lin Qingyuan stopped him.

"Do what I have to do." Jiang Yin pushed Lin Qingyuan's hand away with astonishing strength. "The gatekeeper's last task—close the gate."

He opened the door.

The sunlight in the courtyard was blinding.

A dozen or so demon-hunting guards dressed in black had taken control of the entire courtyard. The leader, a lean middle-aged man with a scar running from his brow bone to the corner of his mouth, was coldly watching Jiang Yin emerge from the house.

"Master Jiang," the Xuan-character guard said, his voice icy, "hand over those two academy disciples, and you may be spared."

Jiang Yin smiled.

He opened his arms as if embracing the sunlight. The sunlight shone on him, and the bluish-black scales reflected an eerie luster. The two eyes on his legs slowly closed, and then—suddenly opened.

This time, the pupils were not black.

It was deathly pale.

Like the eyes of the prisoner in the hot spring.

"Thirty years ago..." Jiang Yin began, his voice changing—no longer the hoarse voice of an old man, but a series of overlapping voices, as if several people were speaking at the same time, "I promised Xun Wenruo to guard the gate for thirty years. Now, thirty years have passed."

He raised his hand and pointed to the sky.

In the courtyard, all the Demon-Slaying Guards drew their swords at the same time.

But their movements suddenly froze.

Because the ground began to move.

It wasn't an earthquake, but the dark red moss—the moss that had withered on the mountain last night had somehow spread to the village and was now gushing out wildly from the cracks in the bricks and the base of the walls. The moss seemed to have a life of its own, wrapping itself tightly around the legs, waists, and arms of the demon-hunting guards.

"This is..." Xuanziwei's expression changed drastically. He tried to slash the moss with his sword, but when the blade struck, it was as if it had cut into a sticky colloid and was stuck to it.

"This is a gift from the mountain," Jiang Yin said. "For thirty years, I have drunk its water, breathed its air, and eaten what it grows. Now, my blood, flesh, and bones are all filled with its 'seeds'."

He looked down at his chest.

Then, with her fingernails, she scratched open the skin on her chest.

No blood flowed out.

What flowed out was a dark green, viscous liquid. The liquid hit the ground and quickly seeped into the soil. The next second, the ground within a ten-foot radius of him turned completely dark red.

Countless fine roots burst forth from the soil, forming a giant net that tightly bound all the Demon-Slaying Guards. Sharp thorns sprouted from the roots, piercing their flesh and beginning to suck away their life force. Screams of agony filled the air.

The Xuanzi Guardian struggled desperately, his body erupting with dazzling golden light—a sign that a Dharma Aspect Realm expert was about to activate their Dharma Aspect. But the golden light was barely ignited before it was suppressed by even more roots surging from the ground, disappearing like mud into the sea, quickly fading away.

"Hurry up!" Jiang Yin turned around and shouted to the two people still standing in the room, "Go through the secret door! Now!"

Lu Li gave him one last look.

In the sunlight, the hunched old man's body was rapidly disintegrating—his skin cracked, revealing the dark green flesh beneath. But there was no pain on his face, only a calm, almost sacred expression.

He was using the "seeds of the mountain" that he had accumulated in his body for thirty years to buy time for the two of them.

Lu Li gritted his teeth, turned around, and rushed towards the wall on the other side of the room.

Lin Qingyuan followed closely behind.

Sure enough, there was a hidden door in the wall—not a door, but a movable wall panel. Pushing the panel aside revealed a narrow, dark passage leading downwards, its destination unknown.

The two crawled into the tunnel.

As the wall panels closed behind him, Lu Li heard Jiang Yin's last words from outside, very soft, like a sigh:

Tell Xun Wenruo... I've paid off my debt of thirty years...

Then came a huge, explosive sound, followed by a scream that abruptly stopped.

The passageway was pitch black.

Only the faint throbbing of the chest seal and the indistinct sound of dripping water in the darkness guided them forward.