Tomb raiding live stream: Starting as the mute Zhang

The steps inside the tree trunk are very narrow.

It's only wide enough for one person to pass at a time, and the slope is very steep, almost vertically downwards. The steps were carved directly into the inside of the bronze tree trunk, with polished edges, but still rough. On both sides are cold bronze interiors covered with fine casting patterns, chilling to the touch, carrying a strong, old, rusty metallic smell.

The air was even more stagnant than outside, carrying a strange, faint ozone smell, like the aftermath of an overloaded electronic device. It was very quiet, so quiet that only the sounds of footsteps, breathing, and the muffled beating of a heart in one's chest could be heard.

The flashlight beam swayed back and forth across the narrow staircase and the bronze walls on either side, dust swirling within its rays. The staircase was deep; the beam couldn't reach the bottom downwards, nor could it illuminate the entrance upwards—only endless, spiraling darkness.

"Is this supposed to lead to the Earth's core?" Fatty Wang looked down and felt a little dizzy. He quickly grabbed the bronze wall next to him, which was icy cold to the touch.

"Speak less, save your energy," Wu Xie said, panting as he stepped up a step. "Fatty, walk carefully, don't drag me down with you."

"Don't worry, I'm as steady as a mountain!"

Zhang Qiling and "Zhang Qiling" were still walking at the front without flashlights. They walked one after the other, two steps apart, their steps precise and almost without any unnecessary swaying or hesitation. It was as if they knew this narrow and steep staircase like the back of their hand.

A levitating livestream sphere hovered in the middle of the staircase, its camera swaying up and down, diligently filming the deep, oppressive bronze staircase. The viewers in the livestream seemed to be affected by the atmosphere, with only a sparse barrage of comments.

The prophet said: "These stairs make my legs weak."

A solution to the experts' disbelief: Hollowing out a tree trunk to make a staircase – what kind of technique is this?

The male fans' fan club: Our husbands are so handsome even when they come down the stairs!

They spiraled downwards for about ten minutes. The stairs seemed endless. Just as Fatty Wang started muttering again, "How much further?", Zhang Qiling, who was walking at the front, suddenly stopped.

Zhang Qiling also stopped immediately and listened attentively.

"What's wrong?" Xie Yuchen, who was following behind, asked.

"There's a fork in the road," Zhang Qiling said in a low voice.

Everyone craned their necks to look down. At the edge of the flashlight beam below, the steps indeed split into two. One continued straight down, while the other turned left, extending into a narrower, seemingly naturally formed rock crevice. The entrance to the crevice had been artificially modified, and there were also steps leading down there.

Two roads, both pitch black, leading nowhere.

"Which way?" Black Bear asked.

Zhang Qiling didn't speak. He squatted down and gently ran his fingers along the edge of the steps at the intersection of the two roads, carefully feeling the thickness of the dust, the difference in humidity, and even the subtle changes in airflow.

Zhang Qiling walked to the entrance of the crevice on the left, placed his palm on the rock at the edge of the entrance, closed his eyes, and seemed to be sensing something.

A few seconds later, Zhang Qiling stood up and pointed to the crevice in the rock to the left. "This way."

"Is there something here?" Zhang Qiling also withdrew his hand and nodded.

"Yes, closer," Zhang Qiling added.

There was no explanation as to why it was "closer," nor was there any mention of what the "thing" was. But the others were already used to their way of communicating, leaving things unsaid, so they didn't ask any further questions and turned to the rock crevice steps on the left.

The steps in the rock crevices were narrower and damper than those inside the tree trunks, requiring one to squeeze through sideways in some places. On either side were wet, natural rocks covered in slippery moss. The ozone smell in the air was fainter, replaced by a stronger scent of moisture and the earthy aroma unique to rocks.

After walking for about five minutes, the view suddenly opened up ahead. The stairs led to a natural stone chamber that wasn't very large, but had clearly been renovated.

The stone chamber is an irregular oval shape, about half the size of a basketball court. The ceiling is made of natural rock strata, with some small stalactites hanging down. The four walls are rough rock, but have been polished smooth by human hands and are covered with dense, extremely ancient and obscure symbols and patterns.

Under the flashlight beam, the symbols and patterns glowed with a dark, deep red hue, as if they had seeped into the stone walls, like they were painted with some kind of mineral pigment mixed with blood, and had not completely faded even after thousands of years.

"Is this... a mural? Or some kind of record?" Wu Xie approached a stone wall and examined it carefully. The patterns on it were very abstract, with distorted human figures, indescribable geometric shapes, and some symbols that resembled stars and eyes. They were similar to those he had seen before in Jingjue, Xianwang, and Xisha, but they also formed a system of their own.

"Record it." Zhang Qiling walked to another stone wall and looked at a huge picture that occupied the entire wall. At the center of the picture was an extremely abstract tree-shaped pattern with twisted branches, and at the foot of the tree were countless tiny human figures kneeling. Above the tree canopy, there was a huge, swirling vortex, and at the center of the vortex, the outline of a door was vaguely visible.

"Tree, door, sacrifice," he summarized briefly.

Zhang Qiling was also looking at the painting, his gaze falling on the kneeling figures. The figures' postures were strange, not like devout worship, but more like... being forcibly pressed to the ground by some invisible force, their bodies contorted, their expressions (if those simple lines could be considered expressions) filled with pain and fear.

"Human sacrifice," he uttered.

Xie Yuchen and Huo Xiuxiu quickly photographed all the patterns on the stone wall. While taking pictures, Xie Yuchen whispered to Huo Xiuxiu, "Judging from the painting style and pigment composition, the era might be even earlier than we previously estimated... Shang and Zhou dynasties? Or even earlier? The origin of this tree worship is actually so ancient?"

“It’s more than just worship,” Huo Xiuxiu pointed to some finer, barely discernible lines at the base of the tree-shaped pattern, “it’s like… bondage? Or, exploitation?”

Fatty Wang wasn't very interested in the murals. He wandered around the stone chamber and soon discovered something else in a corner.

It was a few skeletons.

The skeletons were relatively well-preserved, but in bizarre poses. Some were curled up in corners, others lay on the ground with their hands outstretched, as if they had died crawling. The clothes on the skeletons had long since decomposed into ash, but scattered around them were some heavily rusted metal tools and small ornaments, which looked very ancient and were definitely not from the modern era.

"Looks like these guys didn't get out." The fat man squatted beside a skeleton, carefully poking at a rusted metal piece next to him with his dagger. "Tsk, what era is this thing from?"

"Don't touch that!" Wu Xie quickly stopped him. "Fatty, with your hands, you'll ruin everything you touch after opening a coffin or raising a corpse!"

"I didn't touch the coffin again this time!" the fat man protested, but still put away his dagger.

Zhang Qiling and "Zhang Qiling" also walked to the skeletons. Zhang Qiling squatted down and carefully examined the hand bones and cervical vertebrae of one skeleton. "Zhang Qiling" examined the sternum and pelvis of another skeleton.

"A broken cervical spine," Zhang Qiling said.

"Fragmented sternum," added Zhang Qiling.

"It was caused by external forces," Zhang Qiling stood up, looked towards the entrance of the stone chamber, and then looked at the murals. "It wasn't a natural death."

"Was it killed by that 'tree,' or something guarding the tree?" Black Bear guessed.

"Maybe." Zhang Qiling neither confirmed nor denied it. He walked to the other side of the stone chamber, where there was a low stone platform resembling an altar. The platform was empty, but in the center of the platform was a depression the size of a bowl. The inner wall of the depression was smooth and dark brown, as if it had been soaked in liquid for a long time.

Zhang Qiling walked over, dipped his finger in the residue from the edge of the dent, rubbed it, and then smelled it. "Blood. It's been there for a long time."

"The sacrificial altar." Xie Yuchen walked over, his expression grave. "Using living human blood to sacrifice to that 'Bronze Tree'? For what purpose? To keep it running? Or... to appease it?"

No one could answer. The only sounds in the stone chamber were the flickering beams of flashlights and the heavy breathing of the people inside.

The levitating live-streaming sphere slowly flew over the stone chamber, capturing the eerie murals, ancient skeletons, and chilling altar on camera. The live-streaming chat exploded with comments again:

Prophet: Using human blood for sacrifice? That's too cruel!

A solution to the experts' disbelief: What kind of evil thing is this tree?

The male fan club: Husbands, please leave this place, it feels so uncomfortable!

"There's no other way out here," Aning said, after inspecting the rock walls of the chamber. "The only entrance is the crevice we came in through."

"Go back the way we came," said Zhang Qiling, "and take the other side."

"Hmm." Zhang Qiling nodded. This stone chamber seemed to be just a "recording room" or a "sacrificial hall," the real core was still below.

Without lingering, the group quickly retreated from the stone chamber the way they had come, returning to the fork in the road via the narrow rock crevice steps. This time, they chose the path that continued straight downwards.

The staircase was longer and steeper than before, spiraling downwards as if it had no end. Shallow grooves began to appear on the surrounding bronze inner walls, embedded with thin, mica-like flakes that had lost their luster and occasionally reflected the light of a flashlight, only to disappear in a flash.

After walking for an unknown amount of time, the stairs finally came to an end.

The end led to an even larger space. The flashlight beam shone out, but it couldn't illuminate the horizon; there was only a chilling, all-consuming darkness. The air here became extremely cold, and the ozone smell completely disappeared, replaced by a deeper, more "empty" feeling, as if standing on the edge of a bottomless abyss.

Beneath their feet were no longer steps, but a relatively flat ground pieced together from massive bronze plates. The gaps between the plates were filled with a dark red, solidified, unidentified gel. The ground stretched forward, disappearing into the darkness ahead.

Within the limited range of their flashlight beams, many tall shadows could be seen looming in the darkness ahead. The shadows had stiff outlines and seemed to be arranged in a certain pattern.

"Is it... a tree?" Wu Xie's voice trembled.

"No," Zhang Qiling stared at the dark figures and slowly shook his head, "they are people."

Zhang Qiling had already taken a step, walking towards the nearest dark figure. He shone his flashlight beam directly at the figure.

It was a life-size bronze figurine.

The figurine is cast with exquisite detail, revealing even the folds of its clothing and subtle facial expressions. However, its posture is extremely painful and contorted—kneeling with its body leaning forward, its hands bound behind its back with bronze chains. Its head is strained upwards, its mouth wide open, as if silently screaming or praying. And in the figurine's chest area, there is a bowl-sized hole running from front to back.

The edges of the cavity were smooth, and the inner walls had a dark, blood-red hue, as if blood had truly flowed through it and never congealed.

The flashlight beam moved, illuminating another dark figure nearby. The same bronze terracotta figure, the same pained posture, the same hollow chest.

One, two, three... densely packed, kneeling silently on this vast bronze plaza, all facing the same direction—the darkness deeper within the plaza.

There, something much larger and more unsettling seems to be sleeping.

The floating live-streaming sphere transmitted this hellish scene. The chat went silent instantly, as if even the viewers behind the screen had fallen silent in this terrifying stillness.