By the time Qin Jiuye and Jiang Xin’er swapped shifts for the third time to man the oars, the sky had only just begun to turn a murky, ashen grey.
Earlier, drawing on their experience, they had built three fires using a fixed amount of kindling. Each pile took roughly an hour and a half to burn from ignition to embers. Now that all three had burned out, a single glance at the remaining ash told her that the hour of sunrise had long since passed. Today’s sun would likely offer nothing more than this.
In the wilderness, one often relied on celestial signs or the color of the sky to judge direction and time. When the weather turned foul, it was easy to become lost in both space and time. This was perhaps why there were so many legends of ghosts and gods surrounding this place.
The sky hung overhead like a giant grey gauze cage. Though there were no physical obstructions around them, one couldn't help but feel a stifling sense of entrapment. The mist upon the lake finally began to thin, faintly revealing the steep stone cliffs in the distance.
Qin Jiuye lay prone at the bow, seizing the opportunity to re-verify the location marked on the map.
“Steward Liu once said that the place Li Qingdao marked should be near the mountainside around here. But this area is flanked by cliffs on three sides; at a glance, there’s nowhere to even set foot.”
Jiang Xin’er pondered this for a moment before speaking with newfound resolve.
“Li Qingdao was no ordinary person, and the paths she trod were never conventional. Perhaps the place is hidden right on the cliff face. If that’s the case, bring the boat closer and I’ll go up to investigate.”
Jiang Xin’er’s reasoning was sound, yet Qin Jiuye still felt something was amiss. She looked around, once again confirming the small islands poking out of the water against the landmarks on the map.
“If it’s as you say and the place is somewhere on the cliffs ahead, we’d have to row quite a bit further. It wouldn't align perfectly with the markings on this map. But if we follow her markings exactly, it looks more like…”
Qin Jiuye’s voice trailed off as an incredible possibility struck her. She stood up abruptly.
“Li Qingdao visited this place the year after the Battle of Juchao ended. At that time, Commandant Qiu was still managing the waters at Jiugao, which means the floods hadn't ended yet. The downstream areas were likely still inundated.”
The makeshift raft wobbled. Jiang Xin’er reacted instantly.
“You mean the geography changed shortly after Li Qingdao left. The floodwaters poured from the mountain pass into the valley floor, forming this lake and submerging everything beneath it.”
Qin Jiuye nodded, laying out her final deduction.
“It’s not that we haven't found the right place; it’s that the place can no longer be seen. The entrance to the location Li Qingdao marked should be right under this lake.”
As soon as she finished speaking, she began rustling about, stripping off her cumbersome outer garments.
Jiang Xin’er watched her, momentarily unable to process the sight. “You… you aren't planning to…”
“What else can we do? We’ve been drifting on this broken raft for a day and a night. Our food and water are gone. We can’t afford to just waste away here.” As she spoke, Qin Jiuye pulled off her shoes and socks, offering a word of comfort. “Don’t worry. I used to dive for fish with my grandfather all the time. I’m a great swimmer—better than all the kids in the village put together.”
How could the current situation be compared to children catching fish? Jiang Xin’er felt the anxiety that had been building since they left the shore reach its breaking point. She snatched the half-knotted rope from the other girl’s hand and hissed urgently.
“Have you lost your mind? Have you considered why there isn't a single fish to be seen in this lake?”
Forget fish—there wasn't even a midge larva or a blade of pondweed. Qin Jiuye knew there was something strange afoot. But as a healer, she was loath to attribute every eerie phenomenon to the supernatural.
“I’ve seen it recorded in ancient texts that mountain hollows which have suffered forest fires or heavy logging often form these deathly still lakes. Some even have strange colors. It’s likely the same principle as the hot springs on Qionghu Island—certain substances have leached into the water. While it’s not conducive to life, a human entering briefly shouldn't suffer much harm. Besides, I tested the water before we left the shore yesterday. Aside from being a bit cold, there was nothing unusual.”
Faced with such a reasoned explanation, Jiang Xin’er was momentarily speechless. It took her a long while before she brought up the name no one in the Qiu Estate dared to touch.
“Do you remember how Xu Qinglan fell ill and died? If she truly died from consuming contaminated water and food, it means the water here might be problematic as well.”
Qin Jiuye gave Jiang Xin’er a deep look. She suddenly realized that while the girl often appeared aggressive and reckless, she possessed a delicate, observant side.
“Before coming here, I had the same concerns. But now, I feel that the very fact this lake is so lifeless suggests that whatever influence was once here might have faded. Do you remember the Dalu Brew I brought back from Qionghu Island? Back at the shipyard, I experimented on fish. Wine laced with a small amount of the secret formula did have a restorative effect, but those fish died shortly after. They were nowhere near as resilient as He Yuanzhou. This suggests that the so-called secret formula likely weakens over time or as the dosage decreases.”
The existence of the secret formula was terrifying, but heaven and earth possessed their own power to consume and dissipate. She did not believe anything in this world was truly eternal; even something as insidious as the formula would change as it spread. This was likely why Ding Miao had been using the Fangwai Temple, the Su family, and the patients at the shipyard for his repeated experiments.
“But… but…”
Jiang Xin’er couldn't find the words for her "but," yet her hand gripped the rope tightly, refusing to let go.
The night before, the other girl had asked if she was afraid of water. At the time, she hadn't given it much thought; she believed she was incapable of "fear." Because she had been lucky enough to enter the Qiu family shortly after leaving the mountain villa, she had never personally experienced the punishments endured by Unit Thirteen. Yet, to this day, she remembered the disciples carried out of Toad Laurel Valley—she remembered the cold, fishy stench of silt and rotting weeds that clung to them.
That was the scent of terror.
Never retreating before an enemy was the vow she had carved into her heart the day she first picked up a blade, a vow she had never betrayed. But now, upon this black water where no path forward or back could be seen, trapped on a lonely boat, that remembered scent was slowly closing in on her.
As the stalemate dragged on, Qin Jiuye finally sighed and spoke first.
“Do you know why I urged those mountain folk to leave? The world outside might not be as beautiful as they imagine, and I don't want to give them hollow hope. But if they stay in the mountains, they will likely meet a dead end. Better to struggle with hope than to accept such a fate. It is the same for us now…”
“How do you know it’s a dead end? If they’ve lived in these deep mountains for so many years, they must have their ways. How do you know you won't harm them by forcing them to leave for a new environment?” Jiang Xin’er grew more agitated, as if pouring out all the dissatisfaction of the past few days in one breath. “Why are you always like this? Knowing full well there is danger ahead, yet insisting on charging in. It was like this at the Sword Appreciation Assembly, and it’s the same now, coming south to Juchao.”
Startled by this rare display of the girl’s inner thoughts, Qin Jiuye was momentarily stunned. She was surprised Jiang Xin’er had spoken so many words at once. After a pause, she replied.
“We entered the Yuan-Shu Marshes and wound our way here. Have you observed the changes around us? Whether it’s the rising river levels or the disappearance of birds and beasts in the forests, none of it is a good omen. It suggests an upheaval is coming to this land.”
When that happened, no one knew what the Yuan-Shu Marshes would become. Forget finding a specific spot on a map; the entire ruins of Juchao might vanish entirely. This was their last chance. Whether the secrets buried deep within Juchao would ever see the light of day depended on their choice in this moment.
“I only showed those mountain folk another path, another possibility for life. As for whether they take that step, it’s their own choice.”
The same applied to them.
Having said her piece, Qin Jiuye didn't want to force the pressure of the decision onto her companion. She simply added, “This is my decision. I will bear any consequences myself. You don't have to force yourself to follow. I enjoy company, but life often goes against one’s wishes. The paths that belong to us must often be started alone.”
Jiang Xin'er clearly disliked these deep forests, and she clearly disliked this woman’s opportunistic, stingy ways. Yet, when the woman prepared to leave her behind and go on alone, she had stubbornly followed. Why?
Because what she feared was never toxic mists or black water, nor mountain paths without end. She was simply afraid of being alone.
Her hand gripped the rope, then slumped. Qin Jiuye knew she didn't need to say anything more.
Her mind was made up. She re-tied the knots. Just as she was stretching her limbs, preparing to enter the water, the motionless Jiang Xin’er finally moved.
“This lake looks calm, but it’s unfathomably deep. There must be undercurrents and whirlpools below. It will be even harder to find your bearings in the pitch black. No matter how good a swimmer you are, I doubt you can make the round trip easily.”
As she spoke, she leaned down, brushed aside her hem, and drew a small, exquisite dagger from her boot, handing it over while averting her gaze.
“The Young Master gave this to me. If you lose it, I’ll never forgive you.”
The gem-encrusted dagger was heavy, perfectly matching that dandy’s flamboyant style.
Qin Jiuye smiled and tucked the dagger carefully into her waistband. “Don't be afraid. I’m a tough one to kill. I won't let this puddle take me, and I certainly won't leave you alone in this godforsaken place.”
Jiang Xin’er rolled her eyes and turned away. She double-checked the rope they were using as a safety line and, still uneasy, tied a tight dead knot around Qin Jiuye’s waist.
Qin Jiuye watched her movements. When the girl stood up, she whispered, “Did your Young Master give you any other divine weapons before we left? A Sea-Calming Needle? A Sea-Dragon diving suit? A Night-Luminescent Pearl would be nice too; it’s going to be pitch black down there…”
This time, it was Jiang Xin’er who lost patience. “Are you going down or not?”
“Going, going. I’m going.”
Qin Jiuye scratched her head, turned around, and stepped onto the bow of the dilapidated bamboo raft.
The moment before she leaped, Jiang Xin’er’s voice came from behind her.
“I’ll only wait for a count of one hundred. After a hundred, if you aren't up, I’m coming down to find you.”
The icy lake water instantly enveloped her, but Qin Jiuye felt a bit warmer inside. Her lungs, filled with air, were charged with fighting spirit. She slowly opened her eyes underwater.
From childhood to now, she had splashed in all sorts of rivers and lakes, even mud pits after summer rains. But she had never seen water like this. It was as black as ink, letting in not a single ray of light. Falling into it was like falling into the dead of night.
She kept her eyes wide, trying to search for something, but no matter how hard she strained, there was only darkness.
Qin Jiuye’s heart sank. In water with such poor visibility, how could she possibly find a submerged destination of unknown appearance? Even if she had the power to catch turtles in the five oceans, it would be useless.
Determined to see it through, she moved her limbs and dove deeper.
The next moment, as if the morning sun had torn through the clouds, she fell into an entirely different world.
The black turbidity vanished in an instant, replaced by lake water as clear as a void.
It turned out the blackness only gathered in the upper layer of the water, like a film of oil floating on the surface. Her entry had torn a hole in it, allowing the pale sunlight to penetrate the depths and illuminate a lakebed that had long been dark. Using that pillar of light behind her, Qin Jiuye stared wide-eyed into the depths.
Massive charred beams lay crisscrossed on the lake floor. Upon meeting the long-lost light, they reflected fleeting glints of gold. Moving closer, she could faintly see roof tiles encased in gold and giant bronze beasts with golden eyes, scattered like golden fish scales. Everywhere she looked, she saw the edges of collapsed city walls. The unique, slender pillars of Juchao pointed straight toward the surface, decorating the ruins like a sword mound, intertwined with the dead trees beyond the city’s edge.
This was the site of the ancient Juchao kingdom after its city was burned. Carved beams and painted rafters had become charred earth and river silt; golden tiles and auspicious beasts lay ignored. Not a single fish or water snake could be seen. The desolation was like an underwater desert.
It was too quiet—so quiet it was unsettling, as if something might shatter the silence at any moment. The water was too clear—so clear one couldn't judge the depth, making it easy to fall into an abyss without realizing it.
Qin Jiuye had to use all her willpower to suppress the urge to grab some golden tiles. She reminded herself to use her limited air to explore further. Soon, she discovered a flight of man-made stone steps amidst the ruins. Recalling the coordinates on the map, she swam along the steps. Before long, a cliff suddenly appeared at the end of the flat lakebed. She swam closer and peered into the depths of the chasm; it seemed bottomless.
Just as she was about to look away, several bubbles rose from the depths of the cliff. She paused, then noticed a massive silhouette in the darkness.
Something seemed to be wedged into the cliff wall of the abyss. One end was slightly pointed and upturned, about twenty or thirty feet long, looking like the skeleton of some gargantuan creature.
At first, she thought she was mistaken, but after a closer look, she confirmed that the object in the chasm was a sunken ship. Because the hull was broken and the other half was hidden at the base of the cliff, it looked somewhat strange.
Qin Jiuye instinctively moved closer for a better look.
Because they had to navigate complex waterways with varying depths, merchant ships in the Longshu region were often much more slender than the large ships of the north. But the frame of this ship was excessively delicate. It was two or three stories high, not looking like a commercial vessel. Yet, compared to a pleasure boat used for lake tours, it had more water-beast decorations. It looked more like…
Yes, she had seen this kind of ship in Jiugao before. During the Sword Appreciation Assembly, Xu Qiuchi had invited her onto a flower boat for a night tour. Though there were slight differences, that flower boat was seventy to eighty percent similar to this wreck, especially the Yi-bird totem carved on the prow. It was strikingly familiar… but this wreck looked at least a century old. A hundred years ago, this place should have been a closed mountain hollow. Why would a ship from Jiugao appear in the heart of Juchao? Did this have anything to do with what they were investigating?
The light around her suddenly dimmed. Qin Jiuye looked back; the hole she had torn in the grey layer was slowly closing. The light was about to vanish completely.
She was still a short distance from the location Li Qingdao had marked. She wasn't sure if this ship was what she was looking for. After a quick thought, she decided to swim over the chasm and continue forward.
Another string of bubbles rose from the bottom of the cliff. This time, they didn't rise vertically but wobbled, seemingly caught in a small vortex.
Qin Jiuye noticed it instantly and adjusted her direction toward that subtle change.
The surge of the current became more pronounced. Jiang Xin’er had been right—undercurrents were indeed dangerous. But this meant there truly might be a hidden opening somewhere on the lakebed. However, the rope at her waist suddenly tightened; she had reached its limit without realizing it. Qin Jiuye steeled her heart, drew the dagger Jiang Xin’er had given her, and cut the rope tied to her waist.
Without the final restraint, she felt her body sucked into the undercurrent. She quickly adjusted her limbs to keep from losing control entirely.
In the chaos, a dark shadow seemed to flash past from the direction of the cliff behind her. She turned around belatedly, but could see nothing but pitch black.
The air in her lungs was gone. The sensation of suffocation made her head spin. she couldn't tell if that was a real creature of the lakebed or just a shadow left in her mind by the mountain folk’s legends.
The next moment, there was a disturbance on the distant surface.
It was the sound of Jiang Xin’er entering the water.
That stubborn blade-woman—whether she had finished her count of one hundred or sensed the rope being cut—had jumped in regardless. But thanks to her leap, another hole was torn in the surface. The pillar of light shone again, making the dark opening below even clearer.
Qin Jiuye turned with difficulty, signaling to the approaching Jiang Xin’er, then seized this last chance to point the way. The next moment, the last sliver of light vanished. Boundless darkness descended. She felt like a tiny shrimp swept into the deep sea by a turbulent current, unable to escape the spinning world no matter how she moved.
After an unknown amount of time, carried by that flow of water, she finally broke the surface. Long-lost air rushed into her mouth and nose, and she gasped for breath.
Her heartbeat and the ringing in her ears gradually subsided. The surroundings fell silent, save for a faint rumbling that seemed to come from deep within the rock walls. Qin Jiuye pulled out a fire-starter she had sealed in a bamboo tube. While observing her surroundings, she waded forward.
The darkness seemed to have no boundaries. She cleared her throat, only to hear her voice travel far before returning as an echo.
If she hadn't dived to the bottom of this black lake to explore for herself, who would have thought such a massive cave was hidden beneath the water? Or rather, this place was originally hidden within the foothills. Because the entrance was low, it had been submerged by the lake, while the higher ground formed an air pocket—the very place she was now.
After walking about thirty or forty paces in the same direction, she finally touched a stone wall. Following the wall for another five or six paces, she bumped into a bronze lamp-bearer covered in stone chips and dust.
Her racing heart finally settled. Qin Jiuye knew she had found the right place.
The oil within the bronze lamp-bearer was refined from something unknown; despite years of moisture, it hadn't spoiled. Blowing away the surface impurities, Qin Jiuye succeeded on her second attempt at lighting it. The flame followed the oil flowing from the lamp-bearer’s chest, looking like burning blood. It spread along the grooves carved into the mountain wall. Dozens of bronze lamp-bearers were lit in succession, and the entire cavern was instantly illuminated.
Almost at that moment, Jiang Xin’er emerged from the water. Her swimming wasn't as good as Qin Jiuye’s; she had clearly swallowed some water and coughed for a long time before recovering.
“The host just lit the lamps, and you arrive right on cue. Perfect timing.”
Jiang Xin’er had no time for Qin Jiuye’s teasing. After steadying herself, she walked over, looking disheveled. “What is this place?”
Qin Jiuye didn't answer immediately. Instead, she turned her gaze to the cavern she hadn't yet had a chance to examine properly.
They appeared to be in a stone hall. The left and right walls were pitch black. The ceiling wasn't as high as she had imagined. In the center, in a slight depression, were twelve stone plinths about half a person’s height, arranged in a circle. Moving closer, she saw they bore signs of careful carving—they were actually stone statues. However, the wooden heads of the statues had long since charred and fallen off, leaving only the bare stone bases. They looked as if they had been beheaded, a gruesome sight.
This arrangement wasn't rare in the Yuzhou region of old; it was likely used for some kind of divine ritual. The rise of ancient small states was often tied to developed agriculture, and farming was always at the mercy of the heavens. Praying for favorable weather and a bountiful harvest was the most primal and urgent need. Because the farming seasons differed, the gods people prayed to also differed. Sometimes they even needed to pray to several gods at once. People would swap out the heads of the statues with different painted decorations and place different offerings on the altar, hoping to convey their wishes to the gods’ ears.
“…It should be a temple of the Juchao people.”
Qin Jiuye spoke softly, though doubt remained in her heart. Why would a temple be built in a cave? Weren't the Juchao people said to revere their gods? Compared to that golden city at the bottom of the lake, wasn't this place a bit too humble?
Qin Jiuye circled the statues and finally stopped at their feet. She leaned down, picked up a handful of soil, and rubbed it between her fingers. Coarse grains fell away, leaving a black stain on her palm.
The soil in this cavern wasn't naturally black; it was an illusion caused by a thick layer of ash mixed into it.
Qin Jiuye’s movements froze. She turned to look at the churning black lake water at the entrance. She finally understood what was in that black water.
It was countless tons of heavy ash—the traces left behind after the entire ancient city of Juchao was burned. This blackness had somehow seeped into the mountains and rivers here. After years of accumulation, it gathered on the surface of the rivers and lakes. Because the river mouth leading outside was blocked, the living water became stagnant, gradually separating into two layers. The upper layer was deathly still, while the lower layer was like a box with a hole in the bottom, connected to various underground rivers and caverns. Within the stagnant water, undercurrents surged.
Thinking of this, she looked up at the surrounding rock walls. Sure enough, water was seeping from multiple places. Listening closely, she could hear the faint sound of rushing water, though she couldn't tell if it came from deep within the mountain or the undercurrents of the black lake behind them.
The entire Juchao mountain range was connected, and the underground waterways beneath them were also linked. Recalling the continuous heavy rain and the rising waters of the past few days, Qin Jiuye knew they didn't have much time left.
A light flared beside her. Jiang Xin’er had made a torch using scattered wooden frames. The two women met each other’s eyes, then simultaneously looked past the stone hall toward the depths of the cavern.
“Let’s go. Let’s see what Li Qingdao discovered all those years ago.”
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
居巢 | Juchao | An ancient kingdom/city now in ruins.
九皋 | Jiugao | A neighboring region or state.
大庐酿 | Dalu Brew | A medicinal or alchemical wine mentioned in previous chapters.
蟾桂谷 | Toad Laurel Valley | A place associated with the training or punishment of the Qiu family's disciples.
鹢鸟 | Yi-bird | A mythical water bird often used as a totem on the prows of ships.
铜灯人 | Bronze lamp-bearer | Anthropomorphic bronze lamps found in the ruins.
远枢大泽 | Yuan-Shu Marshes | The larger geographical region where the story is currently set.
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