Chapter 52: The Hidden Cavern Beneath the Mountain

In the trunk of the off-road vehicle lay more than a dozen coils of rope, all of them high-quality outdoor climbing ropes, woven from hemp and steel wire. Gao Xiang, who had spent years traveling through Sichuan-Tibet and Nepal, always kept such equipment on hand, saving Guan Wen a great deal of trouble.

Gao Xiang fastened one end of the rope to the vehicle’s undercarriage winch, tossed the other end over the cliff, and then turned to Guan Wen. “Judging by eye, the cliff is about forty meters deep. There are plenty of cracks in the cliff face to use as footholds. Getting to the bottom shouldn’t be too hard. Do you want me to go down with you?”

Guan Wen nodded. “That would be ideal.”

Gu Qingcheng leaned over the edge and observed the abyss for a while before returning to Guan Wen and speaking in a whisper, “Would you like to carry a gun? The environment down there is complicated. Having a weapon might give you more peace of mind.”

Before Guan Wen could refuse, she produced a gun from her sleeve and slipped it into his pocket, stepping back with a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of Miss Baoling until you both return safely.”

“What are you worried about, Miss Gu?” Gao Xiang asked with a smile.

Gu Qingcheng’s expression was unchanged. “When traveling in unfamiliar places, caution is the key to a safe journey. Mr. Gao, as a man of the world yourself, surely you agree with that?”

Gao Xiang nodded. “Of course. Miss Gu, you are truly meticulous.”

Guan Wen squeezed Baoling’s hand and whispered reassuringly, “Don’t worry, everything will be fine. Heaven brought us together so I could heal your wounded heart and banish the traces of those nightmares. I’ll be back soon, and all these disasters will soon be over.”

He spoke only to soothe Baoling.

In the valley, the north wind rose, whipping their clothes with a flapping sound. No one could foresee what the future held, or even whether any of them would still be standing, whole and unharmed, when all was said and done—a vast unknown.

“I’ll wait for you, unwavering and unchanging.” Baoling’s words were filled with an indescribable sorrow.

Gripping the rope, Guan Wen placed his feet into the cracks along the cliff’s edge and began his descent, step by step. The interlacing fissures in the rock had been soaked in blood countless times, turning a dark, brownish-black. Though centuries of wind and rain had passed, the scent of blood still lingered heavily. Every mountain and stone on this land was different from elsewhere; here, the passage of time seemed to lose all meaning, and those bloodstains ceaselessly whispered stories from the past.

He kept his mind clear, undisturbed by any strange sights, and soon reached the bottom.

The ground at the base was uneven, with only a narrow goat track, trampled out by herb gatherers, winding off to either side. This was true wilderness—no voices could be heard, only the wild wind howling through the ravine. Apart from those who risked their lives for a living, no ordinary person would ever set foot here.

Soon, Gao Xiang descended the rope as well.

“Which way?” Gao Xiang asked.

Guan Wen, without hesitation, pointed to the right. “That way.”

The two of them advanced along the narrow path, hugging the rock wall for about five hundred steps. Further ahead, the trail led straight into a black cave.

Guan Wen knew this was the place where Master Shu had ambushed his disciples. He had seen it himself in the time-distorting visions created by the master.

“Is that the place?” Gao Xiang asked.

Guan Wen nodded, quickening his pace until he reached the cave entrance.

Gao Xiang took out a flashlight and shone it inside. The cave was irregular in shape, its widest point about ten meters, its narrowest no more than three or four, and its overall depth no more than thirty paces. The cave walls were pitch-black, the same color as the cliff outside. The only difference was the twisted black vines that grew from the cracks, covering the ceiling and walls. The vines had no leaves, only stems—some as thick as a grown man’s arm, others as thin as a baby’s finger.

“Nothing seems out of the ordinary, does it?” Gao Xiang ventured a sheepish smile.

Beyond this cave, there was no path in any other direction. To the side of the cave was a steep slope, angled at about forty degrees, falling away into a bottomless chasm downstream.

Guan Wen stepped into the cave. The floor was also black, smooth and dry, and not covered by the vines. He squatted down, moving forward in careful increments, his hands feeling along the ground, hoping for some revelation. In Master Shu’s guidance, all the wise seekers had gone underground; the disciples of Tashilhunpo Monastery had cast their treasures of gold and silver into a black abyss and sealed the way with stones. This was the only entrance and exit; the mechanism must be somewhere here.

To keep the secret, Master Shu had killed his own disciples with his own hands, playing out a tragedy of heroism and despair. In the years that followed, did his conscience torment him day and night?

“Any luck?” After more than ten minutes, Gao Xiang could not help but ask in a low, slightly anxious voice.

“Nothing.” Guan Wen stopped, sat where he was, frowning. “Compared to the ancestors, what do you think, Mr. Gao? I’ve always been curious—you’ve traveled these regions for years and seen all manner of great treasures. Why would you willingly join us in this search? Besides, the secret of Tashilhunpo Monastery isn’t about treasure, but about certain esoteric aspects of Tibetan Buddhism. Ordinary treasure hunters wouldn’t be interested.”

Gao Xiang countered, “Miss Gu is a bounty hunter, yet you joined the team as well. Why? In today’s world, most bounty hunters are flocking to Europe, where political turmoil and endless disputes offer ample opportunity to make a name for oneself.”

The two of them sparred in words, their faces smiling, but the antagonism between them was unmistakable.

“Perhaps none of us are here for the obvious reasons,” Gao Xiang said as Gu Qingcheng remained silent, lowering his head with a slight smile while staring at the flashlight that split the darkness.

“No, my purpose is clear: to kill the Golden Cicada of the Azure Dragon Society and collect the highest bounty of this chase. I care only for money, not for people, and have no interest in the profound mysteries of Tibetan Buddhism. I’m here with Guan Wen because I’m certain the Golden Cicada will appear…” Gu Qingcheng’s response was resolute and calm.

She lowered her hand, drew another gun from her sleeve, expertly removed the magazine, and checked the bullets inside.

“As long as he appears, only one of us will leave the Niseri Mountains alive. That’s the price a bounty hunter pays: it’s all or nothing, life or death.” Her eyes grew sharp and cold, her entire being transformed into a sacred, untouchable sculpture of arrogance and frost.

“In any field, true professionals deserve respect.” Gao Xiang offered a sincere bow.

“My record is flawless, and I have no reason to believe this time will be any different.” Gu Qingcheng extracted a bullet from the magazine, held it at her fingertips, and slowly rubbed the tip. “I’ve trained my draw speed using every method in the famed military manuals—even Bruce Lee’s electric shock method from Jeet Kune Do—until drawing my gun became as natural as snapping my fingers, a mere thought away. Every one of these bullets I personally selected from a private arms factory assembly line in Israel, each flawless, guaranteed to fire instantly and claim a life…”

In truth, in any field, those who become masters among masters are all forged through brutal training and relentless hardship. The sharpest blade is honed in the harshest grindstone; only through endless tempering, day and night, can steel become supple enough to bend around a finger.

Gao Xiang clapped softly. “You are truly a professional. Listening to you is like hearing a legend.”

Their eyes met, and Gu Qingcheng spoke directly, laying her cards on the table: “Mr. Gao, I don’t understand the relationship between you, Miss Baoling, and Guan Wen—and frankly, I don’t care. But I ask that there be no conflict between us before the Golden Cicada appears. My only concern is my own interest, and Guan Wen is my bait; I must ensure his safety. Can you grant me that?”

Gao Xiang nodded at once. “We’re all in the same boat, of course we should work together. There’s no animosity between Mr. Guan and me. Rest assured.”

Gu Qingcheng put away her gun and let out a long sigh of relief. “That’s best. Thank you.”

This face-to-face confrontation revealed the depth of Gu Qingcheng’s courage and resolve. Though she was a young woman, Gao Xiang found himself deeply impressed, unable to harbor even the slightest underestimation of her.