Secret Recipe | Chapter 213 | Bones of the Mountain God | Novela.app

Of all the natural disasters since ancient times, water and fire have always been the most merciless; among them, floods and wildfires are the most treacherous of all. Yet, the Way of Heaven has its own methods of balance, and these two rarely occur simultaneously. Twenty-two years ago, Juchao was first besieged by torrential rains and floods, only to be consumed by a mountain fire afterward. The world naturally understood the suspicious nature of such events. Still, Qin Jiuye remained unwilling to believe that the Black Moon Army, which had once marched under the banner of righteousness and benevolence, would ultimately end it all by incinerating a city. Even if Wen Dimuo had been bent on his own way at the time, how could Qiu Yan, the man holding the commander’s seal, have been so easily swayed by another? As a general who had led campaigns for many years, how could he not know the consequences of setting a mountain ablaze? The fire not only gave the late Emperor’s "just cause" a bad name but also ensured that all traces of the Black Moon Army’s failed sieges and dilemmas were swallowed by the flames. Consequently, when the Son of Heaven handed down his punishment, not a single soul in the imperial court dared to speak in their defense. Furthermore, according to Liu Caiwu, Wen Dimuo had clearly ordered the digging of mass graves to bury the diseased; how did things spiral so far out of control that a fire was needed to burn everything to ash? "The traces of the fire seem to end here." Jiang Xin’er’s voice rang out from ahead, snapping Qin Jiuye back to reality. Years ago, the fire had invaded from outside the cave. The stone hall near the entrance had not been spared, and the stone statues and sacrificial implements nearby had suffered as well. However, perhaps due to the terrain, the wind direction, and the underground river within the cave, the flames had eventually stopped at the end of the stone hall, leaving the depths of the cavern untouched. "Let’s see what useful things are left inside," Qin Jiuye said, following Jiang Xin’er deeper into the cave. Her footing was somewhat clumsy. She instinctively reached out to steady herself against the damp rock wall, only to find faint, shimmering specks of white. Upon closer inspection, it was a small patch of tenaciously growing moss. Perhaps because the cave was pitch black and devoid of sunlight, the moss was a grayish-white color, seemingly different from what grew outside. Driven by her years of instinct as a medicinal herb gatherer, Qin Jiuye hesitated for a moment before taking out a previously prepared bamboo tube. She gathered some of the moss, sealed it inside, and looked up to find that Jiang Xin’er had stopped. The faint sound of water echoed from ahead. Soon, they saw a natural waterfall spilling from a fissure in the rock, pouring into a pool within the cave. Before the waterfall stood a stone platform carved from a massive boulder. The once-rough stone had been polished as smooth as a mirror—the result of countless worshippers prostrating themselves in prayer over the years. On the platform sat a stone tablet snapped at the waist, its inscriptions obscure and difficult to decipher. Aside from this, there was nothing else to be found on the platform or in the surrounding area. "Is this truly the place Li Qingdao marked? There’s nothing here. Did we find the wrong spot, or are we a step too late?" Jiang Xin’er’s question echoed Qin Jiuye’s own thoughts throughout the journey. She did not deny that every corner of this cave exuded a sense of gloom and mystery, but what did the Juchao temple have to do with the secret formula? Why had Li Qingdao tracked his way here, and what had he discovered? Glancing back toward the fire-scarred stone hall and then listening intently to the echo of the waterfall hitting the pool, Qin Jiuye pulled out the bronze mirror she kept close to her person. She wiped it carefully, climbed onto the stone platform, approached one of the lamp-men nearby, and began to adjust the mirror’s angle. Jiang Xin’er understood instantly. She stepped forward with her torch, helping to concentrate the light. The firelight reflected off the mirror’s surface, casting a beam of light into the dark space behind the waterfall. Though weak, it was enough. "There’s a space behind the waterfall." Qin Jiuye lowered the mirror and carefully examined the indentations on the stone platform. "Though faint, the stone here shows signs of wear, meaning people once passed through. As for what lies behind..." Her gaze couldn't help but fall on the broken stone tablet. The ancient stone had been eroded by the cave’s dripping water, making it blurry. The script likely belonged specifically to the ancient kingdom of Juchao; not only could she not read it, but she doubted many in the entire Liang Empire today could. "It was likely a so-called forbidden ground or sacred site. Normally, no one but the priests would be allowed to set foot there," Jiang Xin’er said suddenly, staring into the pitch-black space behind the waterfall. "Juchao was being consumed by fire at the time. Perhaps surviving residents were forced to flee here. In their desperation, someone might have toppled the tablet, or a priest broke the rules, and they hid behind the waterfall to escape the danger." Qin Jiuye turned her head, her dark eyes practically screaming the words "I’m impressed." Jiang Xin’er felt a bit uncomfortable under that gaze and rubbed her nose, muttering. "All forbidden grounds are more or less the same. Almost every sect has one. Those who want to save trouble just put a tablet at the entrance as a warning, either carving a curse or setting traps. But in the end, don't those who want to get in always find a way?" Curiosity is one of the hardest things in this world to extinguish. The more a place is forbidden, the more one wants to investigate; the more obscure a question, the more one wants to get to the bottom of it; the more dangerous and unpredictable a riddle, the more one is willing to solve it at any cost. Thinking of this, Qin Jiuye nodded in deep agreement. "You have a point. Besides, we are currently at a dead end and in great peril. The gods won't blame us for borrowing their sacred ground." Without further hesitation, she stepped into the falling water of the waterfall. The light of the eternal lamps was left behind, faintly shimmering through the cascading water. The torch in Jiang Xin’er’s hand illuminated a corner of the darkness. If the outer cave was merely quiet and eerie, the sight before them could only be described as ghastly. The black-gray sandy ground turned a grayish-white—the remains of vast quantities of incinerated animal bones. The four walls were constructed from piles of grim beast bones, the gaps between them filled with a crimson clay that emitted a faint, cold, fishy stench. At a glance, the entire cavern looked like the fleshy interior of a giant monster’s belly. It turned out that the stone platform before the waterfall was empty not because the priests had cleaned it, but because the offerings had been moved here. In such a place, let alone exploring boldly, an ordinary person would hesitate even to enter. Yet, as luck would have it, neither Li Qingdao, who had explored this place alone, nor the two women who had swum their way in today, were ordinary people. One was a wandering physician who carried corpses and picked up the wounded to earn silver; the other was an assassin who trusted only the blade in her hand and solved problems by cutting them down. This bone-white hell suddenly didn't seem quite so terrifying. Jiang Xin’er took the lead to scout ahead, and Qin Jiuye followed closely behind, her steps uneven. Soon, a massive pit appeared at the end of the cavern. Something at the bottom of the pit shimmered with a ghostly light. Upon closer inspection, they were irregular, circular plates, shaped like the legendary dragon scales. The large ones were like a giant’s shield, while the small ones were the size of a child’s face, packed densely in layers at the bottom of the pit. The descriptions from Madame Feng’s *Secret Records of Guifang* surfaced in Qin Jiuye’s mind. She couldn't help but murmur, "Do you remember what the legends of Juchao said? They said this place produced something called Red Gold, used for divination and prayer. But what Red Gold actually is and how it’s used is known to few today." Jiang Xin’er, who was searching the area, turned back at her words. "I haven't seen it myself, but when I used to travel with the Young Master, I heard about it at banquets. The noble youths of the capital like to collect oddities in their manors, and Red Gold is just one of them. Though rare, it isn't considered incredibly precious." Thinking Qin Jiuye was being greedy again, Jiang Xin’er pointed toward the black water at the entrance. "I advise you not to get any ideas. The outside is already flooded like that. Even if the mining site still exists, there probably won't be anything left." "That’s not necessarily true." Qin Jiuye crouched down, brushed aside the white ash at the bottom of the pit, and picked up one of the plates to examine it closely. "Because so-called Red Gold isn't mined from a specific place; it’s something taken from a living creature." The object in her hand was nothing other than the plastron of a giant *Yuan*—a giant softshell turtle. Unlike ordinary divination shells, these brownish-tan plates had a delicate luster and faint, golden patterns. They did not fade when drilled or scorched with wood; instead, they produced deep red cracks. Even after a hundred years, they still radiated a treasure-like brilliance in one's hand, looking truly extraordinary. She estimated there were over a thousand plates in this single pit. And this was merely the consumption for the Juchao people’s own divination; there was no telling how much Red Gold had been sent as tribute beyond the mountains. The total number might be several times that. Ancient emperors revered ghosts and gods, and they wished they could build their sacrificial altars and temples out of solid gold. The Red Gold required for shamanic rituals was worth ten thousand pieces of gold. Beyond that, even shamanic doctors and practitioners of the Way used Red Gold in medicine, claiming the divination shells could communicate with spirits. Consuming them was said to have miraculous effects—not only gathering *qi* and prolonging life but also granting eternal youth and a path to the heavenly courts. For a time, Red Gold became an object of fanatical pursuit. Large and small quantities of Red Gold flowed out of these deep mountains like water, and in return, wagons of real gold returned to Juchao City. At its peak, this place could truly be considered a city of gold. Combined with the unique rainfall and heat of the Mingshan area, Juchao did not need to bow to anyone to remain prosperous for a thousand years in these mountains. However, no amount of bounty could withstand such consumption. After a long period of plunder, the resource naturally began to dwindle. The value of Red Gold skyrocketed, and driven by heavy rewards, the hunting became increasingly rampant. In this vicious cycle, it wasn't long before no one saw those giant *Yuan*, as large as islands, ever again. Throughout history, things like "immortal flesh," "high monk bones," "thousand-year snow lotuses," and "ten-thousand-year turtles" have been nothing more than a revolving feast on the path of the powerful seeking immortality. People wished they could take every rare thing and turn it into an elixir, yet who has truly achieved the art of eternal life? In the end, they all just meet underground after a hundred years. The mythological colors were stripped away layer by layer, and Red Gold fell from its divine pedestal. After all, it wasn't salt, iron, grain, or livestock; no matter how precious, it was merely an ornament. Once the dynasties changed and the talk of ghosts and gods faded, the practice of burning shells for divination was no longer as fanatical as before. Red Gold gradually became a plaything for the nobility, and the status of this golden city plummeted. It was forced to submit to various lords and clans, eventually becoming a treasury to be squandered and taken from, marching toward its ultimate destruction. Perhaps even without that great war twenty years ago, the interior of this ancient city was already rotten to the core. Human greed, along with that gold, had crushed the city, making it destined to become a ruin. "The stone hall outside was just a temple; this is where the Juchao people actually performed their sacrifices. They gathered the *Yuan* caught from nearby lakes and rivers here to kill them, offering their flesh to the gods and using their plastrons for divination. However..." Qin Jiuye paused and looked around the entire stone chamber again. Whether it was her imagination or not, she felt the sound of the waterfall behind them had grown louder than when they first entered. "There are no statues of gods anywhere here. What did the deity they worshipped for hundreds of years actually look like?" Jiang Xin’er raised her torch to the walls. On the upper part of the bone-piled walls, some ancient murals were faintly visible. "There are no statues, but these paintings are quite interesting. Have you ever seen a mural that’s been altered?" Qin Jiuye looked around and realized that the pigments in some parts of the murals varied in depth. It seemed someone had used a tool like a chisel to remove certain elements from the original paintings before adding new ones. Among the existing murals, there was no image of a primary deity; most depicted groups of people dancing around a lake, performing sacrificial rituals. Judging by the depiction of the surrounding mountains, the lake should be in a mountain basin. The water was pitch black and calm, and because it was the sacred lake of the Juchao people, it was depicted as boundless, extending all the way to the ceiling of the cavern. The cave they were currently in was originally by the lakeside. The high priest, wearing a mask and holding a burning black scepter, stood at the cave entrance, while everyone knelt toward the center of the lake under his direction. Qin Jiuye watched for a moment and seemed to discover something. She wasn't tall enough, so she grabbed Jiang Xin’er’s hand, pulling the torch closer to the top of the mural. She leaned in for a closer look and was startled the next moment. A pair of eyes was painted in that pitch-black lake. Green pupils with vertical slits, angry brows, and a dark red forehead half-hidden in the black water, coldly looking down at everyone who appeared in this cavern. Qin Jiuye followed those eyes and looked around, realizing that what she had previously thought were circular patterns were actually the body of this giant lake beast. That long, curling tail covered in blue-black scales encircled the entire ceiling of the circular cavern, like a giant serpent coiling and waiting to descend. Qin Jiuye felt the outline of her suspicion becoming clearer. She couldn't help but think of the description of the "pale-patterned, red-headed deity" in the *Secret Records of Guifang*. She had previously assumed that since it was an ancient kingdom hidden in the mountains, the mountain god they worshipped would be a creature like a mountain spirit. She had never imagined that the so-called "mountain god" would live in the water. "Shebishi," Qin Jiuye’s voice echoed low in the cavern, sounding strangely soul-stirring. "This is the deity they worshipped for hundreds of years. Shebishi." The stone statues in the hall earlier were not the masters of this temple at all—or perhaps they once were, only to be replaced by a more powerful existence. And this new mountain god seemed to prefer coiling in dark caverns, which was why the Juchao people chose to sacrifice here. "Don't you think the appearance of this Shebishi looks a bit familiar?" She voiced her doubt. Hearing this, Jiang Xin’er looked up and around. "A fish? A snake? This is the god they worshipped; how would I know what it is?" Qin Jiuye patiently pointed at the patterns and said, "Even a god has an origin. Statues are modeled after what people see. It’s hard for humans to create something they’ve never seen at all. Though they can exaggerate a bit, you can still see some clues. Look at these blue-black scales, the crimson head, and the fish tail. It looks like a type of dragon-fish. And those mountain villagers we met before have a tradition of not eating fish, yet no one knows where that tradition came from. Isn't that strange?" Her explanation left Jiang Xin’er in silence. The latter looked at the serious expression on her face, then back at the pitch-black cave entrance, and murmured after a long while. "You aren't trying to say that this mountain god actually exists and is in that lake outside, are you?" But in the end, it was just a myth. No one had ever seen it back then, so how could two random intruders find out now? Jiang Xin’er didn't finish her sentence, but Qin Jiuye already understood. She stared at the eyes on the mural and talked to herself. "Even if it’s just a myth, it doesn't necessarily come from nowhere. Sometimes the most incredible things are the ones most likely to have truly existed. Just perhaps not in the way we imagine." Jiang Xin’er had already resumed her searching. Hearing this, she only gave a quick glance, her mind clearly not on the murals. "I don't know what Shebishi looks like. I only know it failed to protect Juchao, and now this place is a ruin." It was a careless remark, but Qin Jiuye froze upon hearing it. She began to crouch down and search the surroundings. "According to your previous guess, the survivors of Juchao fled behind this waterfall for protection. But then what? According to Manager Liu, except for the refugees who fled the city earlier, why did no one else survive back then?" "Perhaps the fire outside never stopped, so they were trapped and died here." "But if that were true, why don't we see their bones here? And..." Qin Jiuye stopped mid-sentence as her foot suddenly tripped. Jiang Xin’er, who was not far ahead, quickly caught her. Both of them looked down and held their breath simultaneously. A section of something hard protruded from the grayish-white ground beneath their feet. The protruding part was what had tripped Qin Jiuye, looking like a strangely shaped stone. But there were no white stones in the Juchao area. Jiang Xin’er couldn't be sure yet, but Qin Jiuye, who frequently dealt with the dead, knew at a glance that it was a bone. Because it had been buried for so long, the flesh had completely rotted away, and the remaining bone had turned grayish-white. It had been there for at least ten years. Unlike the animal bones they had seen earlier, this section of bone was exceptionally thick and covered in dense small holes. Judging by its shape and size, it didn't belong to a human, nor was it like the bones of ordinary livestock. Qin Jiuye simply knelt down and brushed away the gray ash with her hands. A section of an animal’s spine was revealed bit by bit. At a glance, it was as long as a large boat, and a portion was still buried in the ash, its full extent hidden. Even the legendary *Kun* of the South Sea might not have such a long spine, let alone a mountain lake. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, Qin Jiuye wouldn't have believed such a massive creature truly existed here. She stared at everything before her, momentarily speechless. Jiang Xin’er was also shocked, murmuring after a long while, "So this is why they chose to build the temple here?" Was it because the Juchao people discovered this massive skeleton and worshipped it as a divine object that they built the temple here? Qin Jiuye shook her head, clearly having another thought. "Why would anyone worship a skeleton? This thing was still alive at least twenty-some years ago." For something to become a worshipped deity, it must have some extraordinary qualities. She finally knew why the Juchao people who painted the murals depicted the black lake as so vast. They weren't trying to emphasize how large the lake was, but were indirectly expressing that the deity they worshipped was beyond comprehension and possessed boundless power. The gods that only existed in ancient myths never appeared, so their followers had never witnessed their true form. One day, seeing a massive, unusual giant fish, they associated it with the god of legend. Year after year, they offered sacrifices, even forbidding the clan from hunting the fish in the lake. Over time, the strange fish naturally dominated the area, increasingly gaining the potential to "become a god." Who would have thought that the mountain god "Shebishi" in the depths of Mingshan was merely a monster raised by the Juchao people themselves? The legendary Shebishi was immortal, yet what they saw before them told a story of a deity made of mortal flesh and bone. What had initially changed it and granted it some kind of power? Didn't that power feel familiar? And that was perhaps what Li Qingdao truly wanted to tell them, and the ultimate goal of their journey. Recalling her earlier dive to the bottom of the lake, groping through the darkness, Qin Jiuye felt a wave of lingering fear, and a chill ran down her spine. What if the massive shadow she had caught a glimpse of wasn't an illusion? What if the descendants of "Shebishi" still lived in this ancient mountain lake? If their intrusion disturbed these ancient creatures, or if they accidentally let them out, then... As if in response to her terrifying prediction of the future, a muffled boom suddenly erupted from deep within the stone wall directly ahead. The cracks carved deep into the rock began to grow, covering the entire cavern in an instant. Even the murals shattered, leaving only those ghostly green eyes in the black lake still looking down from their original spot. Whether the gods would truly punish the intruders was unknown, but the total collapse of this already riddled underwater cave was only a matter of time. Qin Jiuye and Jiang Xin’er exchanged a look, both reading the signal "Not good, run!" in each other’s eyes. This pair of partners, who had disliked each other from the start, had developed an unprecedented rapport after the shared hardships of the past few days. Almost simultaneously, they turned and ran toward the waterfall. Jiang Xin’er had long legs and was an assassin by trade; her body was much more agile than an ordinary person’s. In the blink of an eye, she had bolted ten paces away. Qin Jiuye was left a few paces behind, shouting in exasperation. "Now you run fast! Why weren't you this eager when we had to go into the water?!" Jiang Xin’er didn't stop, even finding the time to retort, "You didn't wait for me under the water either. If your skills are inferior, don't be stubborn!" The thunderous sound of the rock walls fracturing, mixed with the deafening roar of water, pressed closer from behind. Qin Jiuye didn't dare look back, her short legs moving as fast as they could. She only regretted not asking her master for more growth-promoting medicine when she was young; legs are truly missed when they are too short. A massive force hit her from behind. Qin Jiuye screamed, flying forward uncontrollably and slamming into Jiang Xin’er’s back. Caught off guard, the latter slipped and tumbled to the ground. In that instant, accompanied by a deafening roar, the surrounding rock walls burst like fragile eggshells. Water columns, like manifested dragons, attacked from all directions, swallowing the two tangled figures in a single gulp. The thunderous boom was accompanied by a deluge of falling rocks. Qin Jiuye gripped Jiang Xin’er’s hand tightly as they plunged into the bottomless vortex. *** **Glossary** Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation ---|---|--- 黑月军 | Black Moon Army | The military force mentioned in the backstory. 闻笛默 | Wen Dimuo | A character involved in the history of Juchao. 邱偃 | Qiu Yan | The general who held the commander's seal of the Black Moon Army. 柳裁梧 | Liu Caiwu | A character mentioned previously (likely a manager or steward). 赤金 | Red Gold | A valuable material from Juchao, actually turtle plastrons. 元鼋 | Yuan / Giant Softshell Turtle | The creature whose shell provides "Red Gold." 慑比尸 | Shebishi | The name of the mountain god/deity worshipped by the Juchao people. 《鬼邡密卷》 | Secret Records of Guifang | An ancient text containing legends and secrets. 龙鱼 | Dragon-fish | A mythical or unusual fish creature depicted in murals. 鲲 | Kun | A legendary giant fish from Chinese mythology.