Old Tang shone the Strong Flashlight on the river surface where the red demonic light had faded, and he was instantly terrified— hairs standing on end, goosebumps everywhere. He cursed three times: “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
The river surface, within the beam of the Strong Flashlight, was packed with densely clustered naked corpses, painted with talismans and sealed with wax! These corpses were arrayed even tighter than the Terracotta Army, each emanating chilling ghostly energy. The nearest ones had already reached the riverbank, their calves in the water as they walked ashore.
Old Tang howled, “Run!” He glanced back to see Wang Cheng’an already at the base of the steps, ass-up climbing them. Forgetting even the fish on the ground, Old Tang scrambled toward the steps, not daring to look back.
Old Tang bounded up the steps taller than himself in one desperate climb, then gazed back at the riverbank in lingering fear. He saw those “corpses” had not pursued; the farthest had only stepped into the water at the edge. He let out a long breath and said, “Wang Ya, why didn’t you warn us about these ghostly things in the water?”
Wang Ya glanced indifferently at Old Tang and countered, “Does that even need saying?”
Old Tang was speechless, sheepishly rubbing his nose. True, in Feng Family territory, who expected the water to be free of anything? But he never imagined the Feng Family would stock so many corpses in the river!
Wang Ya pulled the portable camping gas canisters from the backpack, set up the camping stove, and told Wang Cheng’an, “Dad, cook the fish.” Then she leaned against the railing on the steps to circulate her energy and recover.
Wang Ya did not ask how Old Tang and Wang Cheng’an had blasted so many fish. For a Tao cultivator like Old Tang, using a minor technique to draw the fish in the dark river was no big deal.
Neither Zhang Qingshui nor Huang Qi dared ask if these fish had grown fat on corpses. Even if they had, they could only pinch their noses and eat, or starve to death.
Wang Ya had no such qualms. If these fish ate corpses, the ones in this stretch of river would have been picked clean to bones long ago— Old Tang and her dad wouldn’t have been chased by so many dead people when they waded in.
Those corpses in the river were just like the ones in the Myriad Coffins Array— refined into that state while alive. Their vital energies and souls were sealed with talismans, their bodies with specially refined wax; only before immersion were their breaths sealed, suffocating them alive in the river. Their souls, trapped in the corpses, absorbed Yin Qi to become “living corpses,” eternally confined in this river segment, denied rebirth.
The two fish Wang Cheng’an brought up were nearly a meter long each; half a fish fed all five of them until full.
They did not rush onward but seized the chance, with full bellies and food in hand, to rest and recover their strength.
Fish meat did not keep well, especially fresh ones with no preservatives or even salt— probably stinking after a day or two.
After the five ate their fill and slept soundly, they woke and boiled the remaining one-and-a-half fish, using up their camping gas canisters. They ate the leftover half fish, boiled the other and divided it into five portions for each to pack.
They abandoned heavy burdens like tents, taking only climbing gear, crossbows, dynamite, Glow Sticks, signal guns, food, water, and sundry essentials.
One fish would not last two days; after that, they would starve again. Even risking another river blast, they could not stay put. The best path was to travel light, reach the destination quickly: Wang Ya and Wang Cheng’an seek the Bardo Realm path to find Feng Yuqin; Old Tang and the others hunt the Ghost Pill and Corpse Dan, then escape this haunted place.
It truly was a haunted place, full of ghostly weirdness everywhere— even Zhang Qingshui could not wait a moment longer.
Zhang Qingshui truly could not bear to stay another instant and never wanted to enter Feng Family territory again.
The group packed up and set off fully equipped.
Wang Ya led, guiding them up the steps to the stone platform. She cast the Yellow Springs Other Shore Flower Seal on the stone stele. It absorbed massive Yin Qi and bloomed with red light illuminating the ground slabs, where Talisman Patterns of the Yellow Springs Other Shore Flower reemerged.
Zhang Qingshui had memorized those Talisman Pattern positions before; her memory was sharp, the eighty-one bricks crystal clear. But when they reappeared, she found the patterns had shifted. To pass safely, only Wang Ya’s Yellow Springs Other Shore Flower Seal Formula would work.
Wang Ya instructed Old Tang and Huang Qi to step only on the patterned slabs, avoid missteps, then strode forward.
After crossing the platform, they saw a bridge spanning the dark river. Its width matched the platform; a stele at the head bore the words: “Bridge of Life and Death.”
The bridge stones looked ordinary, deep brown like dried blood. The entire structure exuded thick Yin Qi, ghostly and somber. The Strong Flashlight beam revealed layers of black Qi like ghostly mist shrouding the surface.
Huang Qi “gazed” at the bridge ahead, biting her lip hard, fists clenched white-knuckled, face ashen. What she “saw” was no stone bridge but one forged from condensed corpses— densely packed, faces frozen in dying terror and despair. This was no Bridge of Life and Death; it was clearly the Dead People’s Bridge!
