Chapter 66: The Second Layer

Li Zhuiyuan didn’t attempt to wake Runsheng and the others. Based on what he had just experienced, he understood that what they had encountered wasn’t an ordinary miasma, but an Yin miasma.

The former could be compared to a haunted house in an amusement park, offering an immersive experience. The latter, however, was of a higher grade—interactive, with a clear sense of guidance.

In the “dream,” someone had clearly been guiding them. The most obvious example was when Tan Wenbin said he wanted something, and the dream arranged it for him. The intent was to keep them immersed, completely cut off from what was happening in the real world.

In that state, body and spirit were distinctly separated. Even he hadn’t realized he was walking the shade, proving that physical stimuli from the outside world couldn’t reach their spiritual consciousness.

What’s more, if he tried to shake them awake, he might accidentally push them into the water. They were still standing with some distance from being submerged. A fall would be an early death sentence.

He glanced at Runsheng and the others, then at the stone sculpture of the Woman Opening the Gate. That ghastly mocking smile was rendered so vividly and delicately.

Li Zhuiyuan instinctively wanted to swim over and see if he could push the sculpture back into place or perhaps drape his clothes over it in hopes of disrupting its effect.

But the moment the idea surfaced, he shook his head vigorously.

Such a course of action was typical of amateur adventurers or survivalists—pure test-taker thinking.

Instead of swimming to the statue, Li Zhuiyuan turned and swam to the stone steps, climbed up above the water, turned around, and sat down, facing Runsheng, the others, and the stone sculpture.

His gaze grew calm. All the information he had gathered or could infer raced through his mind. While reviewing everything, he began to deduce the layout using feng shui methods.

The first path of reasoning hit a block—specifically, the mysterious figure that had appeared and vanished at the snake’s tail.

The second yielded nothing either—there had been no notable changes in the surrounding feng shui layout.

But Li Zhuiyuan wasn’t discouraged. Failure could serve as a form of trial and error. If the main route was blocked, then even the ridiculous, irrational side paths might hold the truth.

That figure in the dream might not be important. It had simply been mimicking and guiding them. A room appearing atop the stairs, with a stalactite inside—already absurd. Then came two snake sculptures in a row. Maybe there were a third and fourth waiting.

Such finely detailed craftsmanship—were they really just using it all as staircases? Using antique calligraphy for tea fire once or twice might be a refined hobby, but doing it over and over… that’s not elegance, that’s mental illness.

There was subjective guidance, yet it didn’t feel human-made. With some distance from the situation, it all seemed a bit absurd.

As for that statue—if the feng shui derived from it was completely invalid, then maybe it was utterly useless.

He had inspected the sculpture before. What sort of uncanny mechanism could conjure a previously nonexistent back half?

Human imagination.

Which meant… he hadn’t fully awakened. This was the second layer of the dream, a multi-layer Yin miasma.

Suddenly, Li Zhuiyuan felt he could wake the others. He scooped up some of the rising water and splashed it onto their faces, shouting:

“Brother Runsheng, Brother Binbin, Brother Liangliang!”

Soon, their eyelids began to flutter. One by one, they opened their eyes.

“Huh? Was that a dream?”

“What happened to us?”

“Xiaoyuan, are you alright?”

Li Zhuiyuan’s lips twitched. He didn’t respond, just turned over and knelt on the ladder.

All four of them had been frozen, facing the steps. Yet he had been entirely drawn to the stone sculpture. In truth, the first real clue should’ve come from the stone steps—specifically, the very bottom one.

Because when they first arrived, the water had only just reached their soles.

Li Zhuiyuan descended the ladder, dove underwater, and approached the lowest step. He knocked on it hard with his flashlight, then illuminated it.

What had seemed like ordinary stone now revealed a jade-like translucence, full of filaments. But unlike the fixed inclusions of real jade, these ones moved—like long parasites, or tiny white snakes.

One of them was just now squeezing its way out from the edge, halfway out already. If he hadn’t been watching with the flashlight, he’d never have noticed it blend into the water.

Once it emerged fully, Li Zhuiyuan extended his hand.

It bit.

“Hiss…”

The pain was intense, and deep. And it only grew.

“Ah…”

“Glug… glug…”

Li Zhuiyuan woke again.

This time, he was in the water. The water had risen past his mouth, only a finger’s breadth from his nose. Any higher, and he’d suffocate.

Still screaming in pain, he involuntarily gulped down mouthfuls of water.

He turned to check on Runsheng and the others. Still standing. Still asleep.

When the sky falls, the tall bear the brunt. But when water rises, the short drown first.

He looked again at the stone sculpture of the Woman Opening the Gate. It was back to how it had always been—only its flattened back turned to him. No grotesque smile.

Li Zhuiyuan understood now—he was truly awake, back in the real world.

No time to waste. He dove under, flashlight beaming toward his leg. That’s where the pain originated.

He rolled up his pant leg. The flashlight revealed a long, thin, white thread-like thing. Its head burrowed into his skin. Its tail drifted in the water, wagging like it was happy.

The human body is a delicate machine. When we move, bones grind and muscles stretch—painful processes that our brains numb with chemicals. That’s why exercise can feel pleasurable.

Addicts, however, flood their brains with pleasure chemicals, fooling the system into thinking no more painkillers are needed. Once they stop using, the backlash is brutal—like ants crawling all over their bodies.

This little “snake” worked the same way. Its bite hurt—but it dulled your perception. The pain never left. Only when you became aware of it did your brain unlock that pain.

High-end ingredients call for simple cooking. High-grade Yin miasma… just straight-up uses parasites.

Li Zhuiyuan grabbed it and pulled. It writhed, resisted. He yanked it apart.

Honestly, if he had the right tools and time, he would’ve kept it—for research into walking the shade.

But now wasn’t the time.

He moved on to Runsheng, rolled up his pants, saw the same white thread. Pulled it out.

Then Tan Wenbin.

“Splash!”

Runsheng woke up, collapsing into the water from the pain.

“Splash!”

Tan Wenbin too, waking and falling.

But as Li Zhuiyuan was about to roll up Xue Liangliang’s pant leg, he noticed something strange—the thread in Liangliang’s leg was black.

And limp. Lifeless. It looked like it was about to die on its own, without any help.

Which meant… Xue Liangliang had the resistance to wake up on his own—and soon.

But by the time he did, Runsheng and Tan Wenbin might be saved… yet Li Zhuiyuan would’ve already drowned.

He reached out and yanked it free.

“Ah!” Liangliang gasped, but the pain wasn’t as intense. He didn’t fall. He woke, immediately reaching to help the boy submerged in the water.

All four climbed the steps, leaving the water behind.

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