The Human History of Those Gods: A Continuous Stream

Sun Wuliang remembered that no one remembered writing this card, but the card just lay quietly on the table. Jiang Hai leaned over to pick it up and read it word by word: "The person who draws this card needs to travel from east to west across the Ai Mang Mountain PT402 line within three days, cross the Erwang Mountain, and finally reach Qibei Town, and post photos of the entire journey to their WeChat Moments."

Jiang Hai looked at Sun Wuliang, then at Liang Song, and said, "Who wrote this? I think the characters look like Liang Song's. It's a goat-like style. He's always written like this since he was a child."

Sun Wuliang reached out and flipped the adventure card over, slamming it face down on the table: "Who cares who wrote it? It doesn't count, it doesn't count. There's no need to be this excited when playing a game."

The girls became a little unhappy and started chattering amongst themselves: "How can it not count? Why didn't you say it didn't count when we were choosing dares? Mijia just drew 'take off your bra,' and she did!"

Jiang Hai quickly stopped him: "That doesn't count, that doesn't count. Mi Jia just crawled under the table and stretched out her arm to wave it around. If you hadn't told me, I wouldn't have gotten angry with you. I didn't even see what size bra she wore before she put it back on. Liang Song, don't worry about it. All that stuff about Ai Mangshan hating Mangshan is trivial. Let's drink, let's drink."

The girls immediately erupted in an uproar. "What, are you suddenly comparing yourselves to Mi Jia? Do you really want her to walk around here all exposed? Why don't you call your girlfriend over and let us practice on her?"

Seeing the atmosphere growing increasingly tense, Jiang Hai and his group raised their bottles and clinked glasses, pushing and shoving each other. Just when it seemed the matter was about to pass, Liang Song suddenly stood up like a zombie, staring at KAOS-6 Song Yun'er and shouting, "It's settled! A man's word is his bond, there's no way it can be left unsaid!"

PT402……

Thinking of this, Sun Wuliang gasped... Could Liang Song, that idiot, really have gone to Mount Aimang...?

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"Sun Wuliang..."

"Sun Wuliang..."

Liang Song's voice trembled with a hint of hysterical sobbing. What had he and Sun Wuliang relied on to dominate 531 back then? It was his fists the size of bowls and his explosive whirlwind kicks. He had been learning Taekwondo since he was 7 and practicing combat sports since he was 11, honing his strength like a bear, his speed like a leopard, and his cunning like a wolf. But he never expected to be caught off guard and get drugged and bound like a dumpling by a mountain spirit who was powerless to even kill a chicken.

He tried to shout again, but suddenly a rag was stuffed into his mouth, forcing him to shut up.

Shan Jing said softly, "Uncle-Master, please bear with me for a while." After saying that, he clapped his hands and pressed on the altar, then leaped up and disappeared into the darkness after a few steps. Only the black cat remained, squatting next to Liang Song, squinting and leisurely licking its paws.

Liang Song cried out, "Brother Cat, Brother Nan Dou, can you please let me go..." The black cat stopped and seemed to smile at Liang Song.

Suddenly, a drumbeat sounded: thud...

dong... dong... dong...

Three drumbeats sounded, followed by a deathly silence.

"Seven stars shine brightly, the five elements interact, the moon is radiant, the heavenly order is majestic, the auxiliary stars bring prosperity, and the supporting stars aid in decline..."

An ancient and mysterious melody drifted from the darkness—the voice of a mountain spirit. Liang Song was momentarily bewildered, then gradually became disoriented. The voice, the melody, seemed familiar, as if he had heard it somewhere before. Thump… the drums sounded again, sending waves of vibrations through the air…

Flames rose from all around, leaping up to half a person's height in an instant. The body, which had almost lost its temperature, felt the sudden warmth and began to relax.

Where did the fire come from? This curiosity made Liang Song feel utterly bewitched. The sound of the rising flames drowned out the mountain spirit's chanting, isolating the surroundings like a wall; only the fire, only Liang Song…

At this moment, Liang Song smelled the aroma of fried rice. There are many wonderful aromas in the world, but the aroma of fried rice must be unique. It gently touched Liang Song's forehead, affectionately caressed his face, and then led him into the small kitchen in Dongsanli. Liang Song was only 6 years old, and he stood behind Shi Yufen.

Shi Yufen's voice was gentle. "Liang Song, you go outside first. Mom's frying rice. Don't cause any more trouble." Everything gradually blurred again—the firelight, the sound of drums, the chanting—only the aroma of rice grew clearer. In the blink of an eye, he had grown up. He followed the aroma of rice, crossing the pedestrian street of Shangjiu Center, hurrying forward. What was he looking for? It must be something very important, but what exactly was it? Liang Song couldn't say for sure either.

There was no road ahead, so he looked back. The familiar office buildings around him had mysteriously disappeared, and overgrown weeds had swallowed up the entire city. He found himself in a field of weeds, where all was silent and quiet except for the fog and the strong aroma of rice.

Liang Shenli… someone called that name, the voice authoritative… Liang Shenli… please follow this old man this way…

"O soul, return! The East is no place to linger. The tallest man is a thousand fathoms high, yet his soul is the only one to be sought. Ten suns rise in succession, melting gold and stone. They are all accustomed to this; if the soul goes there, it will surely be released. Return! You cannot linger here."

His soul trembled, and he felt a sense of disorientation, unable to discern the source of the sound. Snowflakes drifted silently down from all sides, one by one. He followed the scent of rice, and suddenly remembered: he was in a Taoist temple on Mount Aimang.

This feeling of simultaneously existing in two different times and spaces left Liang Song feeling both unfamiliar and bewildered, as if he were watching himself undergo a living, breathing transformation, one becoming two, and then the two turning against each other, one towards ice, the other towards fire. The flames were getting closer and closer; were the tongues of fire licking his skin?

The intense, piercing pain felt like a thousand hands pulling at him, like countless steel needles stabbing into him. He cracked, like a piece of porcelain being forged in a kiln… Bang… He shattered, breaking into a thousand pieces, ten thousand pieces, no, countless pieces… He began to rise… Only pain remained, only pain. He was about to lose control of his bladder, he was about to die, he was suffocating. There was no air, no light. He was falling again, below was a bottomless abyss, countless hands pulling him down into the biting cold…

Uncle-Master... Uncle-Master...

Someone shook him violently. He gradually snapped out of his shock, groggily opening his eyes. Water—cold water all around him, the frozen water flowing and crashing wildly in the darkness, unstoppable. His whole body ached, and he could barely breathe. A faint voice whispered in his heart, "Is this a hallucination? Or am I inside a hallucination?"

"Uncle-Master... wake up..."

"The mountain and lake collapsed..."

He suddenly opened his eyes.

Did the mountain and lake collapse?

Still in this dilapidated Taoist temple, surrounded by churning water, he couldn't see his surroundings. The icy lake water slapped against his mouth and nose, and he coughed violently. "Uncle-Master... the mountain lake has collapsed! If you don't wake up, we'll drown..." All around him was darkness and the wildly rushing lake water. Only a faint oil lamp was still burning on the altar. By its light, he saw Li Jushuang's panicked face and the black cat.

The rope was untied. He raised his arm to wipe the water from his face, staggered to his feet, and gasped for breath. His wandering spirit seemed to have settled into his body. He gradually regained consciousness: the mountain lake had overflowed.

There should be four lakes of varying sizes around the PT402 highway. The closest one is Salukama, a high-altitude lake at an elevation of about 3000 meters. If Liang Song remembers correctly, this lake is to the northwest of their current location, not far away.

Yesterday's earthquake may have caused cracks in the dam, and now the dam has collapsed. Without time to think further, he shoved Li Jushuang. Amidst the roar of the lake, Li Jushuang cried, "Uncle-Master..." Liang Song pointed to the altar.

"Don't rush to cry. Crying is the most useless reaction at this time." Liang Song was surprised by his own composure and calmness. Perhaps it was the instinct to save himself from the brink of death that made him instantly strong. His voice was almost drowned out by the sound of water. He raised his voice again, "Li Jushuang, this is your territory. Look, the water is rising higher and higher. Soon the entire hall will be flooded. Think carefully, is there anywhere else we can go? A cave would be fine, but it needs to be higher up. Yes, higher up, so the water won't reach us, but we can find shelter from the wind and keep warm. Hurry, we don't have time."

Li Jushuang was trembling. His cotton robe was soaked with water and drooped heavily, the hem almost touching the altar.

"The ancestral hall, we can go to the ancestral hall... it's on higher ground... maybe it won't be flooded yet..." His voice trembled.

"Can you swim?"

Li Jushuang nodded.

"Have you found the right direction?"

"Um."

Where did you put my bag?

Li Jushuang thought for a moment, then bent over and stepped onto the altar to go forward. She returned a short while later, carrying Liang Song's hiking backpack, with the black cat Nan Dou still perched on her shoulder. Liang Song took out his waist bag and tied it around his waist. Where are the clothes…the clothes don't matter anymore…it's too late…the water won't reach us…

He hastily picked out a few tools and then strapped the flashlight to Li Jushuang's wrist. He turned on the flashlight, its powerful beam illuminating the entire hall. Water, murky water everywhere, swirled and crashed against everything, frantically washing over the place. He patted Li Jushuang, "Take off your cotton robe… You swim ahead, I'll follow you, following the flashlight beam. Let's go to that place you mentioned. What about the cat…?"

"It's with me; it has a way."

The bright light kept guiding the way ahead. Every time Liang Song poked his head out of the water, he could see the light of the flashlight, which pierced the darkness like a lightsaber, and the snow became even finer.

The wind howled from all sides, and the water was filled with weeds, leaves, stones, wood, and countless tiny ice crystals. In junior high, Liang Song was a member of the school swimming team. After two months, he found the training too boring and refused to go anymore, but his swimming skills were still quite good. He had confidence in himself; at this moment, he could only have confidence in himself.

He didn't know how long he swam, but he felt his feet touch the ground. He groped his way to his feet, trying his best to overcome the weightlessness and cold, and stumbled toward the beam of the flashlight. Sure enough, the black cat was there, perched firmly on Li Jushuang's shoulder.

"Uncle-Master..." Li Jushuang's voice trembled.

He propped himself up on his knees and looked at Li Jushuang, unable to refute her.

Whatever, call me whatever you like, Uncle-Master is fine.

After a night of tossing and turning, dawn gradually broke. In the distance, the outlines of the mountains became clearer. He collapsed onto the snow, spitting out a mouthful of water mixed with mud. Would today be a bright and sunny day?