Passerby: Secret Image of Ancient Scrolls

Before the phantom could completely slide through the crack in the door, there was a deathly silence behind it.

Half a breath later, it was as if someone had punctured a beehive.

Countless illusory figures squeezed out from the crack in the door, not rushing out, but surging out, like a swarm of bats disturbed deep in a cave, like a river bursting its banks, like darkness that had accumulated for countless years finally finding its way out.

They take on humanoid forms, varying in height and build, with outlines indistinguishable from ordinary people. However, their bodies are semi-transparent, covered with countless black spots, resembling splashed ink landscapes.

The team member's eyes widened in shock. He instantly realized that they had no faces. It turned out that what was peeking out from the crack in the door was the creature's head.

They pushed, squeezed, and overlapped each other in the narrow space of the corridor, making a soft rustling sound. The countless rustling sounds mixed together, like countless mouths grinding their teeth at the same time.

Before Lin Jian could retreat, those things had already crashed into the golden light barrier.

"Sizzle sizzle sizzle".

The moment the phantoms touched the golden light, it was like an ice cube being thrown into boiling oil, exploding with a piercing scorching sound. The first few phantoms instantly evaporated, turning into wisps of smoke. But those behind didn't stop at all; they pierced through the ashes of their own kind, piling up layer upon layer, until in the blink of an eye, a thick layer covered the outside of the golden light shield.

Shen Xun's hand holding the staff showed prominent veins, with a faint golden light shining through the veins.

He could sense that those things weren't attacking.

They were gnawing at him. Not at the golden shield, but at his spiritual blood.

Each bite is small, but there are so many of them.

Hundreds, even thousands of mouths, all biting at once. The energy-locking array he summoned could stop his aura from leaking out, but it couldn't stop this overwhelming devouring.

"Shen Xun!" Lin Jian's voice came from behind, choked with sobs, "They...there are too many of them!"

Shen Xun did not turn around. He stared intently at the increasingly thick layer of blackness outside the golden light barrier. A drop of golden blood seeped from the spiritual mark on his fingertip, flowing down the staff and brightening the dim light barrier a little more.

But as soon as it lit up, the shadows outside grew even thicker.

And things got even worse.

The flowing, blood-red runes on the wall began to peel away. Like melted glue, they were torn off inch by inch from the wall, slowly drifting into the air, trailing sticky red threads. An indescribable smell filled the air, like earth, like rotting flesh, like the bloodwort that Lin Jian had smelled in front of his grandfather's medicine cabinet when he was a child.

Those originally mere phantoms of evil spirits, upon encountering the red runes, seemed to be infused with lifeblood. Their illusory forms began to expand and solidify.

Their color changed from translucent to dark red, and the original black spots bulged up, as if they were breathing, rising and falling.

It looked like toads crawling all over his body, their bellies about to burst.

Inhale, exhale.

The toad's surface was wet and sticky.

Lin Jian couldn't hold it in any longer and vomited it out.

The team member could no longer lift his baton. His hands were shaking, and his whole body was trembling.

The powerful flashlight slipped from his hand, bounced twice on the ground, and its beam swayed wildly, illuminating the dense, inverted shadows of red liquid dripping from the ceiling.

The White Impermanence appeared. Instead of shrinking behind him as usual, she stood still, looking up at the darkness that was still pouring down from the ceiling.

Her eyes have changed.

It won't turn red, nor will it turn black.

Something was shining deep within her pupils; the light didn't come from her eyes, but from something deeper within her body.

Like a crack suddenly appearing in a deep sea trench, like a gaze that suddenly opens in the void, belonging to no living being.

The light was so bright that Lin Jian instinctively took a half-step back.

But it was still her face. Soft and chubby, with almond-shaped eyes, a pert nose, and tightly pursed lips.

Shen Xun recognized that light. It wasn't light. It was chaos churning, the abyss responding to the abyss, the shapeless, eyeless, hungry entity within her body finally smelling blood.

It was an instinct etched into her bones, older than any blood pact. Chaos had no eyes, but she had. Chaos had no voice, but she had.

She is the only form of chaos in the human world.

White Impermanence was swallowing his saliva.

Lin Jian noticed it. The girl, who was usually soft and cuddly, would stick out her tongue, and would curl up into a small ball when she was scared, was now making a soft swallowing sound from her throat.

One after another. Her lips were pressed together until they turned white, as if she was desperately trying to suppress something.

Her pigtails no longer swayed lightly. They were taut and straight, like two fully drawn bowstrings, pointing towards the sinister forces still churning on the ceiling.

It wasn't her controlling it; her body was moving on its own. It was instinct, starved for countless millennia, making the decision for her. It was that shapeless chaos, pulling her towards food.

"Shen Xun..." Bai Wuchang's voice changed.

Her voice carried another layer of echo, as if two people were speaking simultaneously. One was herself, soft and tentative, with a hint of cautious probing. The other was silent, only trembling, the frequency of chaos itself, the resonance of the abyss, the eyeless void speaking through her mouth.

"So much. I've never eaten so much before."

Her body began to lean forward. Not walking, but floating. Her toes were half a foot off the ground, and she felt as if she were being gently pulled by something, leaning towards the edge of the golden light shield. She reached out, her fingertips touching the inner wall of the golden light shield.

The golden light burned her, and she pulled back. Then she stretched out again. Then she pulled back again.

"They're very nourishing." Bai Wuchang turned to look at Shen Xun. She was still using that same face. Soft and supple, her almond-shaped eyes shining like they held starlight. But the light in those eyes was wrong. That light wasn't hers. It was chaos churning, hunger burning, that shapeless, insatiable thing within her body seeing the world for her.

"I'll just eat a little, just a little," Bai Wuchang said. Her voice trembled, her fingers trembled, but she was still smiling. Just like when she usually whine to Shen Xun, "I'll come back after I eat. Okay?"

Shen Xun did not answer.

He was calculating. Hundreds of years of reincarnation and protection allowed him to deduce countless possibilities in an instant. But this time, he wasn't calculating how to win, but the cost.

He wouldn't summon her. How long could the golden light shield last? He glanced down at the cracks in the staff. Half an hour, a quarter of an hour? Could Bai Wuchang endure it? She could still speak now, still asking, "Is it alright?" He didn't know if she would still be able to speak in a little while.

What would happen to her if her desires swelled to their limit but remained unfulfilled? He had seen those perpetually insatiable shadows in the realm of chaos. They didn't die; they only scattered. They became shapeless, ever-expanding, and never-to-return blackness. He didn't want to see that in Bai Wuchang. He didn't want her to become a boundless void, never to be called back.

Summon her. How much can she devour? How much of that evil, those runes will stretch her to? After she's finished, will she still be herself? The blood pact remains; he can feel her trembling. Right now, she's enduring, enduring it with great difficulty.

Bai Wuchang swallowed again. His voice was very soft, as soft as a feather falling to the ground. But Shen Xun heard it clearly. It was like a needle pricking a place he thought would never feel pain again.

"I can control myself," Bai Wuchang said. Her voice was more steady, but the light in her eyes was brighter. "Back in the Chaos Realm, I always ate by myself. Even without you watching over me, I didn't go crazy."

Shen Xun looked at her. The light in her almond-shaped eyes grew increasingly intense, yet she still looked at him. Waiting for his nod. It wasn't that she couldn't rush forward; she was waiting. Was it the blood pact that held her back, or was she holding herself back? Shen Xun didn't know. For the first time, he realized he couldn't tell.

"And..." Bai Wuchang's voice suddenly lowered, as if afraid of being overheard, "You're here. With you here, I won't go crazy. Do you believe me?"

Do you believe me or not?

Outside the building, two cars screeched to a halt. One was a 2045, and the other was a black SUV. The wheels crunched over the snow, making a "squeak" sound.

Lu Ye and his team members quickly got out of the car. He had already received a call from one of the team members who was with Shen Xun.

Shen Xun was in trouble, but Lu Ye couldn't help, so he could only wait outside for backup. Lu Ye stood at the building entrance, clutching his phone. Looking at the closed door, goosebumps suddenly rose on his skin.

The cold wind stung his face, but he seemed oblivious. He stared at the flickering golden light reflected in the stairwell glass for a long time.

A sense of foreboding washed over him, and he immediately ordered his team to take out the drone from the vehicle and launch it to investigate the situation inside the building. This was the latest model equipped with a shortwave infrared camera, capable of penetrating glass to photograph the interior.

As the drone took off, he stood beside his team members, his eyes glued to the control screen. Cold sweat streamed down his face. The other team members seemed to sense something was amiss and began to patrol their surroundings.

Snowflakes drifted onto the glass of the stairwell, blurring into a hazy mist.

The car's air conditioning was on its highest setting for defrosting, and the water vapor disappeared from the windshield. The two vehicles sped along the snowy road, one after the other, chunks of snow hitting the pickup truck's windshield with a buzzing sound, and even the wipers on their highest setting couldn't clear the snow properly.

Old Gu squinted, leaning forward until his face was almost touching the steering wheel. He couldn't see the road clearly. This road, which he had driven countless times, now resembled a crumpled piece of white paper; the roadside, the slope, and the distant shadows of trees were all tangled together, their boundaries indistinguishable.

But he kept his eyes fixed ahead; he was looking for a way out.

His eyes changed; he was calculating.

How wide the road, how sharp the bend, how deep the snow, how much force can the wheels still withstand?

The SUV behind him was still chasing his tail, like a wolf he couldn't shake off. But he didn't look in the rearview mirror anymore; he was looking ahead.

He was looking for a road. He'd traveled this road countless times when he was a freight truck driver. He knew there was a small path beside it, used by farmers to get to the cornfields below. He'd been looking for that road for so many years that he couldn't be sure if it still existed. He remembered it was to the left of a small bridge. If the bridge was still there, then the road was.

If the bridge is gone...

"Old Gu!" Ao Luya's trembling voice came from the back row; she could no longer control herself. "Bai Lu can't hold on any longer!"

Old Gu didn't know how to answer, so he didn't reply.

The sideboard of the wagon bed was hit again, the sound of the corroded metal like bones breaking. The white deer was jostled about inside the wagon bed, but still stubbornly held on with its hooves.

Ye Zhu leaned out of the car window and fired an arrow at the assassin who was leaning out. The assassin pulled back. He leaned out again, and Ye Zhu fired again. One advance, one retreat, like two gamblers seeing who could blink first. The pickup truck's rear window had been pierced with seven or eight bullets, and several crossbow bolts were stuck in the supply box behind the seat. Shards of glass splashed all over Ao Luya, but she didn't bother to wipe them off.

She stared at the white deer in the truck bed. It was trembling, all four legs shaking. The truck bed's side panels were already deformed from the impacts; a few more jolts and it would fall off.

"Ye Zhuo!" Old Gu suddenly shouted.

Ye Zhuo didn't turn around. Neither did Old Gu. He stared at the road ahead. The windshield was covered in snow, obscuring everything. But he kept looking. He was searching for the bridge.

"There's a sharp bend ahead," Old Gu said. His voice was flat, as if he were saying, "The weather's nice today."

Ye Zhuo paused for a moment. Then she understood. She retreated back into the car and put down the compound bow. What happened next was not something the bow and arrow could decide.

"Aoluya, hold on tight."

Old Gu floored the accelerator. The pickup truck suddenly lurched to the left front. The waiting killer, who had intended to ram the pickup truck into its lane, suddenly found himself without the pickup truck blocking his way. The SUV surged forward, and the two vehicles lay side by side on the snow.

The SUV driver swerved to the left, trying to push the pickup truck off the road. Old Gu didn't dodge. He gritted his teeth and turned the steering wheel all the way to the right. The front of the pickup truck was pressed against the SUV's door, and the two vehicles' rearview mirrors were almost touching.

The wind and snow poured in through the gap between the two vehicles, howling as if something was crying.

The road ahead begins to turn. It's that bend.

The SUV driver also saw the bend. He couldn't see how long the bend was, but he could see its blurry outline; it was a sharp, near-right-angle turn.

His pupils contracted slightly. In this weather, on these road conditions, going full speed ahead would mean a fatal accident. He had absolute confidence in his driving skills, but he dared not gamble. Not out of fear of death, but out of fear of losing.

If things went wrong and the mission failed, he didn't dare imagine how Su Jin would treat him. He eased off the accelerator. His mission was to kill these people, not to crash here. The straight road was still long; he could catch up eventually.

Safety first. Leave no room for risk.

The off-road vehicle slowed down.

The wind and snow were hitting the windshield like a blizzard, and the wipers were completely ineffective. As soon as they cleared a crack, another clump of snow would smother up the windshield.

With his line of sight less than a meter away, Old Gu could no longer see the SUV that had been colliding side-by-side with him. The car had vanished, as if swallowed by the wind and snow. In the rearview mirror, there was only a blurry shadow, flickering in and out of focus, torn apart by the wind and snow.

He didn't know where the assassin's SUV was.

He dared not ease off the gas pedal, dared not slow down, dared not gamble.

He didn't know that the car had slowed down. He knew nothing. All he could do was stare at that white blur ahead, floor the accelerator, and gamble with his life.

Just then, he saw the bridge.

It wasn't something he saw, but something he felt; it was a feeling that was both familiar and strange. He had driven this road countless times when he was on long-distance runs.

The outline of the bridge flashed briefly through a gap in the wind and snow.

The bridge was still there. He jerked the steering wheel, and the pickup truck's front scraped against the bridge railing as it hurtled past, the vehicle swayed for a moment, then regained its footing.

His gaze swept to the left of the bridge; the road was still there. It was mostly covered by snow, with only two shallow tire tracks visible.

He had been waiting for this road. From the moment he was overtaken, he had been drawing this road in his mind, for over ten kilometers. He remembered it was to the left of a small bridge. Now the bridge is there, and so is the road.

He didn't step on the brakes; he didn't dare to, he didn't dare to gamble.

He turned the steering wheel all the way to the left, and the pickup truck veered sharply toward the side of the road.

"Old Gu!" Ao Luya screamed, "That's not the road..."

"Do you believe me or not!" Old Gu, who wasn't usually like this, roared out.

The wheels rolled over the snow on the shoulder, causing the truck to tilt violently. Ye Zhuo gripped the handrail tightly, his composite bow slipping from his knees. The pickup truck plunged off the road. Old Gu eased off the accelerator and lightly applied the brakes, letting the wheels slide down the slope into the cornfield. The truck bounced violently on the uneven ground, corn stubble scraping against the chassis with a piercing metallic sound, as if something was tearing at the undercarriage. Bai Lu was tossed about in the truck bed.

But it didn't fall. It stuck itself in the corner of the truck bed, its four legs bracing against the sheet metal, holding on tightly.

Old Gu stared ahead. The vehicle bounced up and then sank down, each time lower than the last. On the final landing, the wheels caught the weight, and the pickup truck didn't flip over.

The underpass was just ahead. He drove in and turned off the engine. The lights went out. The engine stopped. The wind died down. Only the snow continued to fall, pounding on the ground outside the underpass with a muffled sound, like someone setting off firecrackers in the distance.

Ao Luya covered her mouth, holding her breath. Ye Zhuo gripped the composite bow tightly, her fingernails turning red from the force. They listened intently to the sounds overhead. The roar of the engine grew louder and then faded away. The vibrations from the wheels rolling over the bridge, penetrating the concrete roof of the archway, entered the vehicle, making their bones tremble. The white deer huddled in the truck bed, shivering, but it didn't utter a sound.

The SUV sped across the bridge.

Old Gu listened to the engine sound receding into the distance. The SUV was accelerating. It was going to chase after them, to the forest farm, to where Ao Luya was headed. Old Gu quickly ran through his thoughts and said, "The one changing the spare tire behind, at normal speed, will take ten minutes."

In this weather, add another ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Add to that the engine smoke from hitting the tree, and it's possible we'll catch up, or it's possible we won't. We just need to stay here for twenty minutes. Those behind won't catch up, and those ahead won't find him. That gap in the middle is our chance of survival.

Ye Zhuo nodded and said, "That's right, your analysis is very accurate."

Ao Luya let out a long breath and said, "I want to get out of the car to see the white deer; it won't make a sound."

Ye Zhuo and Lao Gu exchanged glances and nodded.

Ye Zhuo said softly, "Go ahead, but be careful."

The wind and snow pounded on the ground outside the bridge arch, one pound after another, like a pendulum.

Ao Luya climbed onto the white deer that was clinging tightly to her. The deer's heartbeat was steady. It obediently breathed against Ao Luya's palm, showing no signs of injury. Only then did Ao Luya feel relieved. She patted the white deer's head and returned to the carriage.

A long time passed. There was no sound of an engine in the wind and snow. Nothing at all.

Old Gu turned the key, the pickup truck shuddered slightly, and the engine started up again. He didn't turn on the lights. He put it in gear, drove out of the underpass, back onto the highway, and followed the assassin at a distance.

Ye Zhuo breathed a sigh of relief: "It seems they headed straight for the forest farm."

Aoluya understood. All they needed to do was follow.

The pickup truck sped across the snow, and the white deer began to grow restless again, as if telling them: Hurry up.

Ao Luya reached out and through the hole in the back window. Glass shards cut her hand, but she didn't say anything.

The white deer pressed its head against Ao Luya's hand, its ears twitching as if it had heard something.

Those were two rows of gleaming white teeth, and it heard them grinning from ear to ear. The owner of the teeth didn't laugh out loud, but the white deer heard it.

A call from ancient times.

Before the campfire is lit.