Chapter 23 The Blind Man Gets Snake Venom
The air in the tunnel felt like it was soaked in ice water; the damp, chilly air seeped into the bones through the collar, carrying a pungent, sweet-smelling odor—not rotten, but a slimy, fermenting smell, like dried snake slough. Zhang Qiling walked in front, his black-gold ancient sword slung across his back, the rope binding the hilt darkened by sweat. He deliberately slowed his pace with each step, his toes lightly probing the ground to make sure there were no loose slabs or trigger points. Hei Xiazi followed closely behind, a modified pistol in his right hand and a flashlight in his left. When the beam swept across the walls, he could see the faded murals: women with human bodies and snake tails were pouring liquid from bronze containers onto a kneeling crowd. Though the paint had faded, it still exuded an eerie solemnity.
"This smell is too strong." Wu Xie covered his nose and moved closer to Xie Yuchen. "I encountered a rat snake at the Seven Star Lu Palace last time, and it didn't smell this bad—could this be pheasant neck?"
“The Xiwangmu tribe regards snakes as sacred creatures, so it’s not surprising that there’s a snake’s lair hidden in this tunnel.” Black Bear’s flashlight beam stopped at the corner of the mural, where several small snakes were depicted, their eyes marked with cinnabar, which seemed to glow faintly in the dark. “Little Third Master, keep up close and don’t take the wrong step—look at these shallow grooves on the ground, they’re worn out by snakes crawling across them over the years, which means we’re not far from their lair.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Zhang Qiling suddenly stopped, his right hand rising sharply, palm facing backward—a silent "stop." Everyone immediately held their breath, even instinctively lowering the beams of their flashlights. He turned his head, his left ear twitching slightly—a faint rustling sound came from deep within the tunnel, not the sound of wind, but the sound of countless scales rubbing against the stone walls and scraping across the ground, like someone scattering a handful of broken glass in the dark, which was rolling down the slope.
"There's something moving ahead." Zhang Qiling's voice was extremely low, with a hint of tension that was barely perceptible. He slowly drew his black gold ancient sword, and the blade made a soft "whoosh" sound as it left its sheath, which was particularly clear in the closed tunnel.
Almost simultaneously, Hei Xiazi switched off his flashlight, plunging the tunnel into darkness. After only a few seconds to adjust, a dozen pairs of eerie green lights appeared in the darkness—snake eyes—slowly approaching them from the depths of the tunnel. The number of lights continued to increase, densely packed, like stars appearing out of nowhere.
"That's fucking pheasant neck!" Wu Xie's voice trembled, but he still reached for the lighter in his backpack—he remembered Xie Yuchen saying that pheasant necks are afraid of fire.
Zhang Qiling didn't turn around, but simply held the ancient sword horizontally in front of him, the blade reflecting a faint green light. Hei Xiazi quietly moved to his left, patted his arm with his left hand, and whispered, "Dumb, leave the left side to me, you keep an eye on the front." As soon as he finished speaking, the neck of a pheasant at the front suddenly shot out, its body taut like a bowstring, its fangs gleaming coldly as it lunged straight at Zhang Qiling's face.
Zhang Qiling flicked his wrist, the ancient blade slicing through the air with a cold arc. With a "thud," the snake's head fell to the ground, its body still writhing and struggling. Almost simultaneously, two more snakes darted in from the left. Hei Xiazi's dagger was already at the scene, the blade precisely slicing open the snakes' vital points with swift, clean movements, not even splattering snake blood on himself. The two moved in perfect unison, one on the left and one on the right: as Zhang Qiling slashed down the snakes in front, Hei Xiazi would always preemptively block the sneak attacks from the sides; as Hei Xiazi dealt with any stragglers behind him, Zhang Qiling's blade would shield him from the frontal assault—without exchanging a single word, yet it was as if they had rehearsed it a thousand times, even their breathing rhythm almost synchronized.
"Watch out behind you!" Xie Yuchen's shout suddenly rang out.
Zhang Qiling felt a cold wind blow from behind. Before he could turn around, Hei Xiazi pounced and shoved him aside. The next second, a giant python as thick as a bowl darted out from a crack in the stone ceiling of the tunnel. Its fangs grazed Hei Xiazi's shoulder, leaving two bloody marks. Dark venom dripped onto the ground, instantly etching two small pits into the stone slab.
"Damn it!" Black Bear grunted, staggered back two steps, pressed his hand to the wound, and dark red blood immediately seeped from between his fingers.
Zhang Qiling's eyes suddenly changed—his usually calm and unwavering eyes now flashed with a cold, fierce rage. He didn't turn back to look at Hei Xiazi, but instead charged towards the giant python. His black-gold ancient sword pierced straight into the snake's belly, then he slashed horizontally, splitting the python's body in two. Hot, bloody splattered on half of his clothes, but he didn't care. He turned and ran towards Hei Xiazi.
"Are you alright?" Zhang Qiling supported Hei Xiazi's arm, his movements becoming gentle as his fingers touched the wound, his voice filled with a rare panic—he rarely acted like this, not even when he was attacked at the underwater tomb in the Xisha Islands.
Black Bear grinned and tried to pat his shoulder, but the movement aggravated his wound, causing him to wince in pain. "It's just a minor injury, I won't die—your knife was sharp enough to prevent this thing from biting me a second time." Despite saying this, his face grew paler and paler, and his lips began to turn blue, clearly indicating that the snake venom had begun to spread.
Wu Xie and Xie Yuchen had just dealt with the snakes around them. Xie Yuchen quickly walked over, took out disinfectant wipes and antidote pills from his backpack, and was about to hand them over when he saw Zhang Qiling already helping Hei Xiazi sit in the corner, his fingertips gently parting Hei Xiazi's blood-stained collar—the skin around the wound had turned black, and venom was crawling down his neck along the blood vessels. Without hesitation, he first took the antidote pills from Xie Yuchen, pinched open Hei Xiazi's chin and fed them to him, then unscrewed the water bottle, carefully supporting the back of Hei Xiazi's neck to pour water, his movements clumsy but focused, not even letting the spout touch Hei Xiazi's lips.
“Just taking medicine isn’t fast enough.” Zhang Qiling stared at the wound and suddenly spoke, his voice lower than usual. Before Hei Xiazi could react, he leaned down, his left hand pressing down on Hei Xiazi’s shoulder to hold him still, while his right thumb and forefinger gently spread open the edge of the wound, and he lowered his head to suck on the bleeding spot. Hei Xiazi stiffened, trying to push him away, but Zhang Qiling’s hand on his shoulder gently squeezed it—a soothing touch. He could feel Zhang Qiling’s tongue lightly sweeping across the wound, each swallow and spit with deliberate restraint, not letting his teeth touch his skin. The blood that came out had a faint fishy smell, dripping onto the ground and spreading in small circles.
"You're insane, you mute! This poison..." Black Bear's voice tightened, but he stopped struggling—he knew Zhang Qiling's temper; once he made up his mind, no one could change it.
“I have antibodies.” Zhang Qiling raised his head, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His voice remained calm, but it reassured Hei Xiazi. He took out gauze from his backpack, which Xie Yuchen had prepared before they set off; it still carried a faint medicinal smell. He first applied a sterile cotton pad to the wound, then wrapped the gauze around it, his fingers occasionally touching Hei Xiazi's skin. He could feel the other man trembling slightly from the pain, so he wrapped it more slowly, finally tying a slipknot at the collar, leaving a little looseness so as not to constrict him.
"Alright, can you walk now?" Zhang Qiling helped Hei Xiazi to his feet, her arm always protecting him.
"Who are you underestimating?" Black Bear chuckled, but still moved closer to him following his lead. "We should be nearing the end. I just heard the wind."
At the end of the tunnel was indeed a massive underground cavern, its ceiling adorned with countless stalactites, some still dripping water. The "drip-drip" sound echoed in the puddles on the ground, creating a remarkably spacious atmosphere. In the center of the cavern was a murky swamp, its dark green water floating on a layer of foam. Occasionally, a bubble would rise and burst, releasing an even stronger, fishy stench. On a high platform opposite the swamp stood a half-collapsed altar, constructed of bluish-gray stone. Several broken bronze tripods rested on it, their surfaces engraved with the same serpentine patterns found in the cavern murals.
“That’s the altar of the Queen Mother of the West.” Xie Yuchen’s flashlight beam stopped in the center of the altar, where there was a dented stone slab. “It should be used to worship the snake god, but I don’t know why it’s on the other side of the swamp.”
Wu Xie's gaze, however, was drawn to something in the swamp—a dozen or so corpses floated on the surface, some face down, others lying on their backs. Their clothes weren't completely rotten; the style of camouflage uniforms was still discernible. The armbands on their arms, though blurred, were identical to those of the group that had followed them earlier. "These people...were they here before us?" He pointed to the chest of one of the corpses, where there was a penetrating wound. "It looks like it was pierced by a sharp weapon, and they haven't been dead long; the bodies aren't swollen."
“It seems someone tried to find the Queen Mother of the West’s Palace before us, but they got caught in this swamp.” Black Bear leaned on Zhang Qiling, his breathing already weak, but he still managed to observe his surroundings. “Look at the ripples on the water, something’s not right—there seems to be something moving at the bottom of this swamp.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a figure appeared on the altar across the swamp—a man in a black robe, thin and frail, the hem of which trailed to the ground, obscuring his feet. He stood motionless with his back to the crowd, like a stone statue, yet even through the murky water, a sense of oppression could be felt, as if the air itself had been frozen by him.
"Watch out!" Xie Yuchen had just shouted when the man in black slowly raised his right hand, his five fingers curled into a claw shape. The corpses in the swamp suddenly moved—not floating, but struggling to stand up, their rotting skin dripping with slime, their eyes rolling back, walking towards the shore like marionettes. Some of the corpses had no legs, so they crawled on their hands, their fingernails scratching the stones.
"It's corpse puppetry!" Xie Yuchen's expression changed instantly. "Using specially made powder to control corpses and turn them into killing tools—this is an evil technique from the time of the Queen Mother of the West. I never thought someone would actually use it!"
Zhang Qiling gripped the Black Gold Ancient Blade tightly, his eyes as cold as ice. Hei Xiazi struggled to stand up straight beside him, but Zhang Qiling pressed down on his shoulder: "Don't move." His voice brooked no argument, his fingertips still carrying the scent of medicine from when he treated the wound. "I'll handle it."
“But you’re all alone…” Hei Xiazi wanted to say something more, but he met Zhang Qiling’s gaze—a gaze without indifference, only certainty, as if saying, “I can come back.” He watched Zhang Qiling turn and walk towards the swamp, his back standing out exceptionally tall in the shadows of the stalactites. Suddenly, he fell silent, gripping his dagger tightly, his eyes fixed on the crawling corpses, ready to provide support at any moment.
As Zhang Qiling stepped into the swamp, his footsteps landed on the floating corpses, each step remarkably steady. The foremost corpse puppet lunged at him, but he dodged to the side, slashing with his ancient sword. The puppet's arm fell to the ground with a thud, yet it continued to twitch and crawl forward. He didn't stop, charging straight towards the altar. With a flash of his blade, the corpse puppets blocking his path were sliced in two, black slime splattering all over his trousers, but he didn't even blink.
The man in black robes seemed surprised by Zhang Qiling's speed and abruptly turned around—the hood of his robe slipped down, revealing a wrinkled face painted with snake-like patterns. He opened his mouth and let out a sharp hiss, as if summoning more corpse puppets. The surface of the swamp began to boil, and more corpses floated to the surface, some still entangled in water plants, surrounding Zhang Qiling.
"Dumb man! The bronze mirror on the altar!" Black Bear suddenly shouted, his voice hoarse from weakness but exceptionally clear. "The key to the Corpse Puppet Technique lies in the bronze mirror! Smash it!"
He had previously read in his research on the Queen Mother of the West that the Corpse Puppet Technique required the light reflected from a bronze mirror to transmit control signals; if the mirror was broken, the Corpse Puppet would lose control. Upon hearing this, Zhang Qiling immediately changed direction, pointing his blade directly at the center of the altar—where, sure enough, stood a bronze mirror about half a person's height. Although the mirror was covered in dust, it could still reflect the shadow of the Corpse Puppet.
The man in black panicked, reaching into his robes to pull out a bronze dagger and hurling it at Zhang Qiling. Zhang Qiling dodged to the side, using the momentum of the impact to flick the ancient dagger upwards. With a clang, the frame of the bronze mirror shattered, and the mirror instantly broke into countless pieces.
The black-robed figure let out a shrill scream, its body began to smoke, and it shrank rapidly as if burned by flames, finally turning into a wisp of black smoke that dissipated above the swamp. The still-crawling corpses instantly lost their strength, collapsing back into the swamp with a "plop," never to move again.
Ignoring the corpses, Zhang Qiling turned and ran back, twice as fast as he had come. Hei Xiazi watched him run towards him and instinctively reached out. Zhang Qiling immediately crouched down and grasped his hand—it was icy cold to the touch. Hei Xiazi's lips were already a deep purple, and his breathing had become shallow.
"We...we have to keep going..." Black Bear leaned against him, his voice barely a whisper. "Jude Kao's men are definitely waiting ahead...we can't let them find the Queen Mother of the West's Palace first..."
Zhang Qiling didn't speak, but simply picked him up again, this time more carefully, letting his head rest in the crook of his neck, avoiding his injured shoulder, and adjusting his pace to small, quick steps to minimize the jolting. Xie Yuchen and Wu Xie followed behind, watching Zhang Qiling's back, neither of them saying a word—they had never seen Zhang Qiling like this before, not even when facing the blood corpse in the Cloud Palace, he hadn't been this nervous. The way he held Hei Xiazi now was as if he were protecting a priceless treasure.
Behind the altar was a stone staircase leading upwards, covered in moss and very slippery. Zhang Qiling walked extremely slowly, first scraping off the moss with his toes before landing steadily. Halfway down, Hei Xiazi suddenly tugged at his collar and whispered, "Dumb, I'm fine... put me down and walk for a bit, save your energy."
Zhang Qiling looked down at him. In the dim light filtering in from above the stone steps, he could see the bloodshot in Hei Xiazi's eyes, yet he was still forcing a smile. He didn't put his head down, but paused, gently rubbing Hei Xiazi's head with his chin—a very light touch, as if to comfort him, or as if to say, "Don't force yourself." Hei Xiazi was stunned for a moment, then didn't speak, but snuggled closer to him, closing his eyes and resting for a while.
As they climbed the stone steps, they were all stunned—outside was not land, but a vast, boundless swamp. Dead reeds floated on the murky water, and in the distance, through the mist, the outline of a ruined ancient city could be vaguely seen. The city walls were dark blue-green, covered in vines, as if abandoned for millennia. On the high ground surrounding the swamp, countless figures dressed in black robes stood, each holding a bronze sword, their eyes fixed on them with fierce intent.
The leader of the black-robed men removed his hood, revealing a familiar face—gray hair, a high nose, and the usual cold smile on his lips.
"Long time no see, Zhang Qiling." Jude Kao's voice carried a smile, yet it was tinged with cruelty. "Or should I call you... the Zhang family patriarch?"
Zhang Qiling gently placed Hei Xiazi on the stone steps, then stood up. His black-gold ancient sword lay horizontally before him, the blade still gleaming with the slime of the corpse puppet. He didn't look at Jude Kao, but instead looked down at Hei Xiazi, lightly touching the gauze on his shoulder to make sure it wasn't loose before turning back, his eyes icy cold: "You can try."
Hei Xiazi struggled to his feet from the stone steps, staggered, and stood in front of Zhang Qiling, supporting his arm with his left hand and gripping a dagger in his right. Although his arm was still trembling, his eyes were unusually firm: "If you want to touch him, you'll have to get past me first."
Jude Kao laughed loudly, his voice echoing over the swamp: "Look at you now? You've been poisoned by pheasant neck poison and can't even stand up, yet you think you can stop me?"
Zhang Qiling gently pushed Hei Xiazi aside, stepped forward, and met Qiu Dekao's gaze. He didn't speak, but slightly turned his head, his gaze sweeping over Hei Xiazi's face. Hei Xiazi was also looking at him. Their eyes met, and without saying a word, they both understood—no matter how many people they would face next, they would not let the other face them alone.
The wind on the swamp suddenly picked up, whipping up black mud that lashed against everyone's clothes. The footsteps of the black-robed figure drew closer, the gleam of the bronze sword flashing in the mist. Black Bear quietly moved closer to Zhang Qiling and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear, "I'll be on the left, you on the right."
Zhang Qiling didn't turn around, but gently touched his wrist with her right hand in response. Sunlight shone through the mist, illuminating their clasped wrists. Despite being at a critical moment of life and death, there was an unspoken understanding between them that no one else could penetrate—it wasn't about one protecting the other, but about standing by each other no matter how dangerous the situation.
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