Passerby: Secret Image of Ancient Scrolls

The dark figure charged straight at them, landing on all fours like a black panther.

Its scales burst open, shimmering in the white snow, like ripples of moonlight on the river.

Those two rows of gleaming white teeth shone blindingly in the snow. Ye Zhuo raised his shield, his feet firmly planted on the ground, and shouted, "Push me back! Ao Luya, find your chance to strike!" Before he could speak, the dark figure slammed into the shield, and Ye Zhuo took the impact head-on.

The shield dented, and her heel slid back an inch. She didn't retreat. The shadowy figure's claws pressed against the shield, its nails digging into the metal. Its face was only a foot away from Ye Zhuo's; it was the face of a young man, but with a mouth that split to its ears, and two rows of teeth that looked healthy and flawless.

How could this person be... the vanished assassin! No, this isn't human, it's a beast, a beast left over from the ancient wilderness.

Ye Zhuo couldn't help but look at those eyes that no longer had pupils, and saw that indescribable red flame.

It was something that had burned for a long time, waited for a long time, and been forgotten for a long time, yet it still burned in its eyes. Like shadows reveling around a bonfire in a stone cave, like the first person to learn how to use fire looking up and seeing a pair of shining eyes in the darkness. They gazed at each other for ten thousand years.

Ye Zhuo's hand didn't tremble. She didn't know what it was, but she didn't flinch. She had seen the fire in those eyes before. On missions at the border, in the eyes of those enemies who couldn't stand up. They feared being forgotten in some unknown corner.

The beast loosened its grip. It didn't know why she wasn't afraid. For ten thousand years, everyone who saw those eyes had been afraid. It had forgotten that some people weren't afraid. Those who gathered around the campfire, those who stared at it in the darkness, those who drew its likeness on the cave walls. They weren't afraid. They knew it was their neighbor.

Ao Luya's deer bone knife was already in her hand. This dark figure possessed the purity of ancient wilderness, but it was no longer pure.

In the instant the shadow paused, the blade slashed out with incredible speed, severing the falling snowflakes in half. It was as if time had stopped for a moment. The bone blade was about to disappear into the ripples of moonlight when it suddenly stopped. She didn't know why the blade had stopped. Had the figure bewitched her? Or had the flames dancing in its eyes stirred up some memories?

Before Ao Luya could react, the dark figure leaped backward, landing firmly on its limbs. Old Gu, staring at the bizarre form, was too terrified to speak. He called out anxiously behind Ao Luya, "Ao Luya, what are you doing? You could have killed it just now!"

Before the words were even finished, the dark figure had already arched its back again, gathering strength, its fingers curled like claws, and plunged them fiercely into the snow. It then leaped out.

Ye Zhuo held the entrenching tool in her hand, and she could feel a desolate and savage killing intent, which was even more terrifying than when she faced the wolf pack.

With a "thud," the entrenching tool slammed down on the beast's head, causing it to sway and stop. It shook its head, its scales rustling like a general's armor. It began to slowly pace around the group, its hands and feet moving with surprising coordination on the human body.

It was a white deer. The flames in the beast's eyes burned even more fiercely. Ye Zhuo gripped his entrenching tool, staring intently at the flame. Ao Luya's hand was already on the shaman's copper bell, but she dared not shake it; she was afraid the flame would burn her, or perhaps she was afraid it would go out. She didn't know.

The mouth stretched even wider, and the gleaming white teeth rubbed together gently. Old Gu tried his best to keep his body from trembling, but he couldn't stop the cold sweat from pouring down his face.

The assassin on the ground remained unresponsive, seemingly oblivious to everything, staring blankly at the ground.

Its head was tilted to the side, its neck twisted at an angle no living person could do. It was looking at the white deer.

The white deer's mane bristled, its antlers drooped, and it aimed at the wild beast. It did not retreat.

The beast's mouth split open. From the corner of its lips to its earlobes, an arc revealed two rows of neat, white teeth.

It laughed. Not a human laughing, but a wild beast laughing.

Its eyes were fixed on the white deer, the dark red ring in its pupils pulsating like fire, like blood, like a wolf that had been starving for a very long time and finally saw meat. It had found it. The thing within this body that had suffered for countless years had found what it wanted.

It opened its mouth.

It wasn't made with the mouth. It was made with a gurgling sound from the throat, like water seeping from a crack in the rock, like wind passing through a hollow tree trunk, like something turning over deep underground.

It was a most primitive form of communication, like the way our ancestors communicated before they invented language. There was no subject, no predicate, no request, no threat.

But everyone understood. Not with their ears, but with their bones, their spine, and the deepest part of their brains that belonged to the beast.

"Okay...deer...dead...dead...people...dead..."

Ye Zhuo and Lao Gu were both startled, their bodies tensing instantly, ready to receive the attack at any moment.

Ao Luya seemed to sense something and suddenly shouted, "Uncle! It's talking about the forest farm uncle, he's going to die!"

Ao Luya pushed open the door of the wooden house and saw the uncle lying motionless on the wooden bed. He quickly stepped forward, reached out and touched the uncle's forehead and pulse. He then put his ear to the uncle's chest and listened carefully.

"Not good!" Ao Luya's copper bells jingled incessantly. She could clearly feel the evil energy surging within her.

It was Su Jin's evil aura that drifted from the riverbank to Xishan'ao, but gathered in the forest farm along the way.

Because there exists an ancient and powerful being here.

Evil wants to corrupt it. To possess it. To own it. To destroy it.

The white deer at the door stared intently at the wild beast, pawing the ground with its front hooves, ready to pounce.

The beast's body began to tremble. Not tremble, but crack. Scales rose up one by one from its body, like a frozen river cracking, like a dam about to collapse. A black, viscous substance seeped from the cracks, dripping onto the snow and staining it a sticky black.

It was holding on. But it couldn't hold on any longer.

The beast raised its head and looked at the door of the cabin. It didn't look at the assassin, Ye Zhuo, or Old Gu.

It looked at the white deer. The white deer stood there, its antlers drooping, its mane bristling. It did not retreat. It looked at those eyes that had no pupils, at that still-pulsating red.

The beast's claws dug into the snow. It was controlling itself. With its last ounce of strength, it restrained itself from lunging.

It wanted to pounce. It wanted it so badly. That body contained the purest blood; it wanted to pounce. But it didn't. It was still trying to control itself. It was about to lose control.

A gurgling sound came from its throat. It was very light, as light as snow falling on snow.

It was calling. Calling the white deer's name in a way more ancient than language. The white deer's ears twitched. It heard.

The beast's mouth parted slightly. The curve, the two rows of gleaming white teeth. It wasn't a threat, it was laughing. It was in pain, it waited, it endured. It was about to break. Yet it still laughed. It was afraid the white deer would see it cry.

Snow fell on it, on its raised scales, and into the cracks that were beginning to open. It crouched there, watching the white deer, using its last strength to hold back from lunging at it.

In front of the abandoned high-rise buildings, Lu Ye and his team stared intently at the screen. The buildings were cold, but there was something inside.

"Go down," Lu Ye said. "Let's check the first floor. Brother Shen and the others probably haven't gone up yet."

Push the joystick with your hand, and the screen will move down.

In the stairwell on the first floor, there's a bowl-shaped hemisphere, translucent and unlike the colors of ordinary objects on a screen. It's covered in cracks, like a densely intertwined spiderweb. In front of the dome, something blocks the way, like a wall, like a door. It's contracting and expanding, contracting and expanding. Its light flickers, like a candle flame about to go out.

The operator's voice trembled: "Captain Lu, this thing...it...it seems to be breathing."

He stared at the mass that was still shrinking and expanding. "Upwards," Lu Ye said.

The camera panned upwards. Every layer was empty. The points of light had vanished. Lu Ye's heart sank. "Go up again."

Fifth floor, sixth floor, seventh floor. Empty. Completely empty. The lights that once filled the hallways, the things that surged down like a tide, all gone. The operator's hand began to tremble. "Captain Lu, where...where did they go?"

Lu Ye didn't answer. He stared at the screen, at the empty hallway. Then he saw it. The eighth floor. All the lights were on the eighth floor.

That direction is upstairs. The ninth floor. The vibration source is on the ninth floor.

It didn't leave; it was still there. It was sucking. Those points of light, those things that filled the entire building like a tide... were being sucked in. It was as if something on the ninth floor had opened its mouth, pulling all the darkness into its body.

The points of light converged faster and surged more rapidly. They were no longer fleeing downwards; they were being pulled upwards. By the source of the vibration, by the thing descending from the rooftop, by the shadow that Lu Ye had never clearly seen, only knowing it was moving. It stopped on the ninth floor. It was eating.

The image on the screen started shaking. It wasn't the drone shaking, it was the building shaking. The specks of light were being sucked into the vibrator, and with each speck sucked in, the vibrator grew stronger.

It's expanding. Not getting brighter, it's getting bigger.

Like a balloon being blown up, like a river rising, like something inside it expanding and pushing it outwards.

Lu Ye stared at the screen, at the swelling, ever-growing mass that was about to fill the entire floor. His nails dug into his flesh, but he didn't let go. There was nothing he could do. He could only watch.

That mass was still expanding. The ninth floor could barely contain it. It was about to descend.

Lu Ye recalled Shen Xun's voice on the phone. "Don't come in." It wasn't a warning, it was a plea. Shen Xun was begging him not to come in and die. But he couldn't wait here. There was nothing he could do. He could only watch. He couldn't wait any longer.

"Go to the car and get the bow and arrows. Then go down and observe the situation on the first floor."

The team members ran to the vehicle, opened the back door, took out their standard compound bows and quivers from the equipment box, and ran back.

Lu Ye took the bow, nocked an arrow, drew it fully, and aimed at the glass window in the stairwell. He didn't know if the arrow would work. He didn't know what that thing blocking the dome was, how long the people inside could hold out, or what would happen after he shot through the glass.

All he knew was that he couldn't wait here. At least he could make some noise to let Shen Xun know he was there. Perhaps that would create an opportunity for him.

The arrow left the bow. The glass shattered. Not entirely, but it exploded along existing cracks, shards of glass splashing into the stairwell, flashing briefly in the darkness. The image on the screen flickered. The drone wobbled slightly from the airflow, but the pilot steadied it.

That thing on the first floor blocking the dome.

The thing that was still contracting, expanding, and flickering, as if startled by something, suddenly shrank back. Just once. Then it began to expand. Not from being stretched, but from gasping for breath. The wind rushed in. It could finally breathe again. It contracted, expanded, contracted, expanded. Faster, deeper, more powerful than before. The flickering light also stabilized. It settled down.

The operator stared at the screen, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Captain Lu...it...it seems to be breathing again."

He stared at the still-breathing mass. He didn't know what it was. He didn't know why it was blocking the way, what it was carrying, or how long it had been without a breath. He only knew that it had stabilized. At least it had stabilized for now.

Suddenly, a thought popped into my head: "That thing is stuck to the front of the shield, which must be Brother Shen's magic. Brother Shen didn't make a single move, and there are scattered points of light around that thing. It's devouring those points of light."

This was something that Brother Shen summoned, and he made a judgment in the blink of an eye.

He realized something. The glass shattered, the wind got in. What if more glass shattered? What if all the windows in the building shattered? The wind would blow away all the lifelessness, letting that thing breathe. He needed more drones. Drones that could fly to higher floors and smash through more windows. One wasn't enough. One was too slow.

"Bring all the drones from the company in the city!" Lu Ye's voice was urgent, so urgent that the team members were stunned for a moment. "Hurry! Otherwise, it will be too late!"

The team member didn't ask any more questions. He picked up the phone and dialed. Lu Ye stared at the screen, at the still-breathing light, at the expanding, growing larger and larger, almost overflowing mass on the ninth floor. He didn't know which plane would succeed, how many planes would be needed to shatter all the windows of the building, or how long that mass could keep breathing. He only knew that one plane wasn't enough. He had to gamble everything that could fly, everything that could crash, everything that could break glass.

Snow fell on the broken windowpane, on his shoulders, and on the still-pulsating light on the screen.

The White Impermanence was panting.

It wasn't the rapid, struggling breathing of before; it was deep, slow, like someone who had just surfaced from the bottom of the water finally reaching the shore. Her body was still switching between girlishness and chaos, but slower, not as rapid or uncontrollable as before. Cold wind blew in through the broken window, pushing out the deathly aura that had accumulated in the stairwell for who knows how long, and also blowing the sticky red rune fragments off her body.

It didn't blow it away, it just loosened it. The fragments were still there, but not as dense, as thick, as tight as before. She was breathing. The wind passed through her body, loosening some of what was clinging to her. Just some. But that was enough.

Shen Xun held her hand and felt her fingertips twitch. Not a twitch, but a grip. She had grasped his fingers.

"Shen Xun..." Bai Wuchang's voice was very soft, as soft as snow falling on snow, "I feel so uncomfortable eating."

Shen Xun didn't answer. He looked at her, at the dark red cracks still on her face, at the droplets of sweat or tears clinging to her eyelashes, at the light in her eyes that was about to go out. He released her hand and took out a packet of hawthorn preserves from his pocket.

Lin Jian stared at Bai Wuchang, at the face that slowly shifted between girlishness and chaos, at the cracks, at the fading light. She wanted to say something, but couldn't. She just watched. The teammate's lips trembled, his words choked by the wind, indistinct. He had never seen anything like it in his life. He didn't want to see it again.

It was Lu Ye; he knew it was Lu Ye who had arrived.

Shen Xun tore open the packaging, picked up a piece of candied fruit, and put it in his mouth. The sweet and sour taste melted on his tongue, suppressing some of the bloody taste in his mouth. He picked up another, and another. He ate slowly, as if counting. He was counting. The golden blood was still flowing, seeping from the spiritual marks on his fingertips, running down the peach wood staff, and dripping onto the patterns of the golden light shield, illuminating the almost extinguished light a little more.

He needed time. He needed blood. He needed sugar. He shoved the last few dried fruits into his mouth, chewed them twice, and swallowed. His cheeks puffed out, his Adam's apple bobbed, and the sweet and sour juice slid down his throat into his stomach, pressing back the weakness that was welling up inside him.

"The golden light shield needs repair." Shen Xun's voice was calm, as calm as a frozen river. "The evil tide has receded. But it wasn't us who repelled it; we were attracted by something upstairs."

Lin Jian looked up. The team members also looked up. They looked at Shen Xun, at his pale face, at the golden blood still dripping from his fingertips, at the increasingly cracked, denser, and crumbling shield in front of him.

"Go check the building entrance and see if you can open it," Shen Xun said to his team member.

The team member hesitated for a moment, staring at the scattered faceless phantoms in the dark corridor. Then he stood up, his face resolute. He didn't know if he would die if he left the golden light barrier, but he had to go. Brother Shen and Lin Jian needed him. They needed his help. That was enough.

He walked to the iron gate, grasped the handle, and pulled, but it didn't budge. He pressed it again, applying more force; the door frame shook, but the door still wouldn't open. He took a step back and kicked the door panel.

"Bang..." The door shook, dust falling from the frame. The door didn't open. He kicked it again. Another kick. The door rattled, the frame creaked, the lock clicked. But the door didn't open. He stopped, panting, and looked back at Shen Xun. Shen Xun didn't look at him. He stared at the golden light shield, at the slowly healing cracks, at Bai Wuchang's still-breathing body.

"It won't open." The team member's voice trembled. "We can't kick it open."

Shen Xun didn't answer. He knew. He had known all along. The door wasn't locked; whether it was by those strange runes or something else, he didn't know. He only knew that the door wouldn't open. At least not now.

Then he felt it.

The source of the vibration. It started moving again. Very quickly, so quickly it felt like it was falling. It rushed down from the ninth floor, the eighth floor, the seventh floor, the sixth floor.

With each level he descended, Shen Xun's heart sank further. He had seen this aura before. He had seen it on the frozen river. Lin Jian had seen it too; he knew what it was. He closed his eyes and swallowed the last bite of dried fruit.

"It's here," Shen Xun said.

Lin Jian's breathing stopped. The team members had returned to the golden light barrier. The powerful flashlight slipped from his hand, bounced twice on the ground, its beam flickering erratically, the scene shifting with an eerie quality, illuminating the spreading cracks on the golden light barrier and Shen Xun's bloodless face. He opened his eyes, his golden pupils flashing faintly in the darkness, like a candle flame about to go out.

"Step back," he said. Lin Jian took a step back. The team members took two steps back. Shen Xun didn't step back. He stood in front of the golden light barrier, gripping his peach wood staff, the blood from his fingertips dripping onto the cracks, slowly filling them back in. He didn't know how long he could hold out. He only knew that it was coming.

That thing that shares the same origin as the evil creature at the bottom of the river, that thing that rushed down from the ninth floor, that thing that kept waiting, kept watching, and kept going down.

The static on the screen. It's here. It won't wait any longer.

In the windswept forest, Aoluya rushed out of the wooden house and hugged the white deer's neck. Her hand was already on the hilt of her knife. Even if it truly was the guardian spirit of the forest, and although it protected the people here, it was no longer itself. She absolutely could not let it harm the white deer; she was waiting for it.

It crouched a few steps away, waiting. Waiting to shatter, waiting to give way, waiting to pounce on it.

Shen Xun gripped the peachwood staff tightly. He was waiting. Waiting for it to come down, waiting for the golden light to crack, waiting for Bai Wuchang to catch his next breath.

Lu Ye stared at the screen, gripping his bow. He was waiting. Waiting for the drone to arrive, waiting for the wind to pick up a bit more, waiting for that thing to have a little more time to breathe.

Snow fell in three places. The same snow. The same breath. They were all waiting. Not knowing how long they could wait.