Chapter 47: Yellow Sparrow Lurks Behind (Part 1): Bird, Mountain, Shadow Part 1

The three instantly looked up and were suddenly enlightened.

It was the shadow!

Just looking at the poses the woman struck with her hands—twisted and bizarre—left them baffled, with no idea where to even begin. But the shadow cast by her hand gestures on the cave ceiling, illuminated by the firelight, vaguely outlined the silhouette of a rural wooden house.

Qin He murmured, “It’s a house, bird, mountain, child, roof?”

The images were even more disconnected, even harder to comprehend.

Fu Li glanced at the shadow, then down at her own hand. She looked up again, tried bending her fingers, and twisted until her hand ached unbearably, but she still couldn’t produce even a hint of resemblance. She couldn’t help but ask, “How did she do that?”

Shang Shan twitched her ear tips, her nose tip wrinkling slightly. “There’s sound.”

A rumbling muffled noise came intermittently, sometimes faint, sometimes loud. The group listened intently and recognized it as thunder and rain, seemingly coming from outside. But upon closer inspection, it didn’t quite match. Their gazes swept the area and finally fixed on that patch of shadow on the cave ceiling.

Thunder sounds unexpectedly emanated from the shadow itself, creating an especially bizarre and eerie effect in the pitch-black cave.

After a deafening thunderclap that seemed to split the sky, the woman’s hand gesture remained unchanged. The house shadow suddenly expanded, spreading across the entire cave ceiling and forming a vast, pitch-black mass that roiled and boiled.

Lightning flashed and thunder roared within the shadow. At first, only fragments were audible, but they grew louder and more frequent until they reverberated overhead, impossible to escape. The shadow’s shapes shifted endlessly, light and shadow flickering like a shadow puppet play. The group watched, entranced, until thunder exploded right beside their ears and the scene before them changed.

The forest had just been washed by a violent storm, leaving it damp and heavy. Morning mist pervaded the air, filled with the scent of wet soil. Birds chirped from every direction, apes swung through the mountains, rivers overflowed, and torrents rushed.

It was still that same primitive forest, but denser, deeper, vaster than what they had seen—and most importantly, it showed few signs of human activity.

They had spent a day in the darkness, and now, upon returning to the outside world and seeing the post-rain forest, they were all stunned for quite a while before snapping out of it and beginning to assess their situation.

Then they noticed something astonishing. The four of them stood shoulder to shoulder, suspended in midair, their feet resting on the tips of verdant pine trees swaying in the wind—and they hadn’t used any spiritual power.

This proved one fact: they were in an illusion.

Mu Qian Tan said curtly, “This is inside the shadow. She wants to show us something.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the sound of branches snapping underfoot rang out. A giant yellow sparrow bird demon, roughly two people tall, raised its wings, flapped at the trees, strode forward on its legs, and shuttled rapidly through the forest.

It carried a half-rotten deer in its beak, its eyes scanning around as if searching for a suitable spot to eat.

As it passed a cliff, a sudden change occurred. A large boulder clung to the high cliff wall, normally held fast by hardened mud. But after days of heavy rain, it had turned into soft mud that oozed from the cracks. Unsupported, the boulder tumbled from the wall and smashed squarely onto the yellow sparrow’s head.

A brief, shrill scream followed, then its wings and black claws twitched a few times before the yellow sparrow perished. Circles of dark red blood spread beneath its smooth, glossy yellow-green feathers, bubbling as it seeped into the soil.

When the rain finally stopped completely, a black mass crawled out from the blood-soaked mountain shadow—viscous and rotten like glue. It let out a weak shriek, molded itself into the shape of a yellow sparrow, dripping gooey liquid, and crawled down the mountain.

Along the way down, it devoured many small beasts, but they failed to sate the hunger in its belly, and its body remained weak. It wailed in agony, tilting its head to the sky, when it suddenly caught a strange fragrance.

The scent tugged at its nostrils. It collapsed, saliva drooling from its mouth, and mustered all its strength to pursue the source.

In a valley lay a village of a few hundred households, built along a winding stream. The residents had lived in the mountains for generations, isolated from the world and living leisurely lives.

Seeing the village nestled in the mountain hollow, Fu Li was slightly surprised and frowned. “People still live in a place like this?”

One listen to her words, and it was clear they weren’t complimentary. Shang Shan shot back, “Why couldn’t they?”

“The houses are all rundown, the people’s clothes are too, and so is their food. They look…” She pointed casually, pursing her lips. “Poor and miserable.”

Shang Shan disagreed. “They’re full, they’re warm, their family and friends are right there—it’s clearly happy. If it were me, I’d be willing to live here too.”

Fu Li said, “Is just being full and warm enough? No other ambitions? The world’s so big—why not go out and see it? Hundreds of years without budging an inch. Isn’t that just a frog in a well?”

Unable to tolerate this second brainless one, Mu Qian Tan said coolly, “Easy for you to say, without thinking it through. If their ancestors all lived here, how would they even think to leave? Did someone come to enlighten them? A frog in a well has to first realize it’s in a well before considering a jump. A frog that can’t even look up at the sky has no chance to ponder whether the sky is only as big as the well mouth.”

“Besides, they’re living their little lives just fine. What right do you have to judge? Yes, it’s a hard life, but how does one choose their birthplace?”

“You think they don’t want to be born with everything handed to them, living richly without lifting a finger? Unfortunately, heaven doesn’t grant everyone’s wishes. Some are lucky, others aren’t.”

Shang Shan started, “Mast—”

The woman’s eyes suddenly sharpened, and Shang Shan forcibly corrected herself. “Yeah, you’re absolutely right!”

A few butterflies fluttered onto Mu Qian Tan’s sleeve. She gently waved them away, glanced at the golden-haired girl, and added, “If you believe in karma and reincarnation, then stop looking down on others’ origins. Be careful, or you might not even be human in your next life.”

She had expected a fierce rebuttal, but this time Fu Li’s eyes widened slightly, and she actually fell silent.

The brief interlude ended, and their attention returned to the village.

It was daytime, so the village wasn’t bustling. The men worked the fields they had cleared in the back mountains, the women hunted small game in the woods, leaving only the elders and children gathered together, eating, drinking, and washing vegetables to prepare for the evening village banquet.

In the group of children, one girl had injured her leg and was bleeding nonstop. She clutched her leg, crying piteously with big teardrops rolling down her cheeks. Two little friends stayed by her side, comforting her. The elders chuckled and popped tender bean sprouts into their mouths to chew.

The Shadow Yellow Sparrow arrived at the village entrance, twitching its nose. It crawled over bamboo poles laden with clothes and bedding, passed through the drying yard with strips of beast meat, knocked over racks of herbs drying in the wind, and entered the village, rampaging unchecked.

The crowd sensed a chill at their backs, and the laughter and chatter ceased. They turned to see a massive black shadow standing silently. Their mouths gaped open—too shocked even to scream—before the thing lowered its head and devoured three children and one elder.

It chewed up the food and dragged itself back into the forest amid trails of blood and entrails.

For some reason, the Shadow Yellow Sparrow spared the girl who had emitted that fatal fragrance and lured it with her blood. But while crunching the human bones, it did taste the sweet marrow and discovered the most delicious food of all.

The scene shifted. A broad room was dimly lit, the people’s faces grave as they sat around an oil lamp.

The old village chief could barely keep his eyes open. Leaning on his cane, he shakily discussed plans to subjugate the shadow demon with the younger generation.

A sparse group raised their hands—137 in total. They tied on headscarves, grabbed long spears, bows and arrows, saws, and iron short swords, then headed up the mountain and found a flat area. They felled hundreds of massive trees.

The cries of the old trees echoed through the valley for days, pale wood chips piling up ankle-deep. Bushes and weeds were uprooted, leaving only round stumps on the land, their unhealing wounds facing the sun.

The villagers believed the shadow feared sunlight and needed to leave it nowhere to hide, so they cleared this Shadowless Land amid the dense woods. They chose a bright sunny day and had a sturdy young man stand in the center of the Shadowless Land, where he slit his wrist and let blood flow.

The crowd surrounded the Shadowless Land, bows drawn and arrows nocked, waiting for the shadow to descend.

Blood poured from his body until the wound clotted; then he cut another. After three cuts, the yellow sparrow crawled out from the woods and slowly entered the Shadowless Land.

At that moment, the strong, brave leader gave the order. Countless spears, stones, and arrows rained down on the yellow sparrow in a fierce assault.

Never having faced such an attack since its birth, the yellow sparrow was caught off guard and suffered heavy injuries. But it quickly realized its overwhelming power and counterattacked. People fell dead and wounded in droves, collapsing one by one. Flesh splattered across the Shadowless Land, blood flowing like rivers.

When only the last brave man remained in the group, the yellow sparrow’s strength was exhausted. It turned and fled. The brave man gave immediate chase. The yellow sparrow couldn’t hold out, and just as the blade was about to sever its head, a baby’s cry suddenly issued from its mouth.

Its eyes were clearly those of a ferocious shadow demon, but the cry was so real it was horrifying. The brave man hesitated for that one instant—and in that gap, his chest was pierced through.

By devouring a hundred corpses, the yellow sparrow gradually grew stronger. The villagers, who never saw their families return, realized calamity had befallen them. In extreme terror, they began offering sacrifices to buy a chance at survival.

One by one, the selected sacrifices were carried by the villagers to the Shadowless Land and presented to the demon in exchange for temporary peace in the village.

The place once used to encircle and kill the yellow sparrow now served as the villagers’ altar of submission to the demon. Blood layered upon layer, like the ebbing of their courage. Shang Shan clenched her fists and asked, “Why didn’t they try again?”