As night deepened, the thick fog of Demon Head Mountain seemed to come alive, denser and heavier than before, as if it wanted to swallow every living person into its bone seams.
Lu Li slowly felt his way down the mountain along the cliff face.
His fingertips were already abraded, his feet covered in bloody mud, and his clothes were so tattered that even beggars would disdain them.
He leaned against the mountain wall, his legs gave way, and he nearly tumbled off the cliff!
"Ah—!"
Pebbles rolled into the deep valley, and the sound of them hitting the bottom was not heard for a long time.
Lu Li clung desperately to a rock crevice, his heart pounding violently, almost ready to give up.
Just then—
"Om…"
The mystic bone in his embrace suddenly grew warm.
A warm Qi spread from his chest, like a drop of flame falling into ice water, instantly vaporizing.
That warm current flowed through his Bloodline, passing through his limbs and bones, warm and strange.
His consciousness cleared slightly, and his whole body seemed to regain a bit of strength.
Lu Li was stunned for a moment, then lowered his head, clutching the bone in his embrace, his eyes rekindling with light.
"This bone… is indeed extraordinary. It can save me, and it can… save Grandpa!"
He dared not delay any longer, gritting his teeth, and with the faint warmth of the mystic bone as a boost, he climbed down the mountain step by step.
Every step was like walking a tightrope, every breath like swallowing razor blades.
Finally—he stumbled out of the thick fog, the distant village a patch of black, with no more cooking smoke rising from the rooftops.
He dared not delay, even though he was exhausted, he pushed himself to run towards his own thatched hut.
"Grandpa! I'm back! I brought back…"
The moment he pushed open the door, he froze.
The room was very quiet.
The stove was cold, the charcoal ash dead.
The person on the bed was lying on their side, as if asleep.
Lu Li rushed over, reaching out to feel.
Cold.
His fingertips touched his grandpa's face, like touching a stone.
He checked for breath again—there was no Qi.
"…No…"
Lu Li's voice squeezed out of his throat, trembling beyond words.
He shook his grandpa's body, calling out, sobbing, as if trying to awaken a dream that had just fallen asleep.
"Grandpa… wake up… I'm back… I found something, really, I found the Immortal bone that can save you…"
He took out the mystic bone from his embrace, held it out to his grandpa, and cried like he was presenting a treasure:
"Look! Just look… didn't you say Immortal Plants could save lives… I didn't find a plant, but I found this! It can generate heat, it saved me… it must be able to save you too…"
But he waited a long time, and the person did not open their eyes, nor did they move.
Only the mountain wind from the doorway, blowing through the cracks in the broken wall, stirred the old man's hair—as if bidding farewell to his last bit of body warmth.
The room was cold and silent.
The mystic bone in his hand was faintly warm, as if mocking his tardiness.
Lu Li knelt on the ground, embracing his grandpa, burying his head little by little.
He no longer cried.
His tears had long since dried up.
Only his low voice, intermittently sounded in the darkness:
"Everyone… died… Brother also died… Grandpa also left…"
"I… have nothing left."
Lu Li did not close his eyes all night.
He just sat there, holding his grandpa's cold hand, in the corner of the room, his eyes vacant.
In the room, there was only the sound of the wind, and the faint heartbeat in his chest.
Day broke.
Sunlight streamed through the mottled wooden window, falling upon the old and stiff body.
The scent of blood had long been swallowed by the cold, leaving only the smell of deathly silence in the room.
"Thump thump thump."
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.
It was the voice of their neighbor, Old Lady Wang, with her usual sharp and questioning tone: "Old Master Lu? Are you feeling better? Our fence is broken again… can you come help us fix it…"
Lu Li stood up numbly, walked over, and opened the door.
The moment the door opened, Old Lady Wang was about to speak, but suddenly froze, and then her face changed drastically.
She glimpsed the corpse inside the house, instantly gasped, and quickly reached out to cover Lu Li's eyes: "Oh, heavens… your grandpa… he's dead!"
This cry of alarm attracted more people from around.
Before long, a crowd gathered at the doorway, men, women, and a few curious children.
"Old Master Lu died?"
"Alas, a few days ago I heard he was so ill he couldn't get out of bed, now…"
"How did this child come back alone? Where are Da Niu and Er Niu?"
Hearing this, Lu Li seemed to regain his senses.
He looked up, his voice hoarse and low:
"…Brothers… they, died."
Everyone paused.
"What? Where did they die?"
"Demon Head Mountain."
As these three words came out, the atmosphere, which had been somewhat sympathetic, instantly cooled a few degrees.
"You three children actually went to Demon Head Mountain? Are you crazy?"
"Even adults don't dare to go to that place!"
"It wasn't you who said it, was it? That there was Immortal Plant on that Devil Head Mountain?" A woman suddenly turned, stomping hard on her husband's foot.
The man awkwardly lowered his head, not daring to speak.
In the crowd, some began to quietly retreat, some shook their heads and sighed, some frowned and cursed:
"This child… has a very tough fate, came back alone, bringing three deaths."
"His grandpa just died, his two brothers also died… Isn't it ominous?"
"Don't get close to him, this child is unclean."
Some women pulled their children and left, some men frowned and retreated to the courtyard entrance, and a few repeatedly bowed and said: "No offense, no offense, we'll take our leave first…"
Lu Li did not speak, he just stared blankly at the crowd. Suddenly, he fell to his knees with a "thud."
He kowtowed at the doorway, his forehead hitting the bluestone ground heavily.
"Please everyone… My two brothers' bodies are still on the mountain, unburied… Who can go with me to bring them back… Please…"
He, an eleven-year-old child, couldn't even cry, his voice hoarse to the point of breaking.
"I don't dare to go alone… Please everyone…"
But what answered him were only the gradually fading footsteps.
The crowd was slowly dispersing.
Some shook their heads, some looked back at him, then quickly averted their gaze, some quickened their steps, unwilling to even cast a final glance.
—That was Demon Head Mountain.
Who would dare to go back? For dead people? Who would be willing to gamble their life for a good deed?
Only he remained at the village entrance, kneeling on the ground, kowtowing to those familiar yet indifferent backs.
Blood seeped from his forehead, but he did not stop.
The sunlight shone on him, warmth penetrating his skin, but it could not warm the cold blood in his heart.
The crowd had dispersed, the light of day dimmed, leaving only the broken door and bloodstains in front of the courtyard.
In this deathly silence, a tender voice broke the quiet:
"Grandpa, Grandpa… he's so pitiful, help him…"
Lu Li looked up and saw an old man and a small girl at the doorway, he didn't know when they had appeared.
The elder wore a grey Daoist robe and leaned on a whisk, his eyes filled with the calm of weathered experience;
And the little girl beside him was as exquisite as a porcelain doll, her eyes clear, her clothes spotless, completely out of place in this dilapidated village.
Lu Li's heart trembled slightly.
He had never seen this pair of grandparents and grandchild in these mountains. They seemed to be passing through from somewhere else, yet they didn't seem like Mortals. The old Daoist had no trace of worldly Qi about him, his demeanor was awe-inspiring without anger, clearly very possibly the "Immortal" from the legends told by the village elders.
The old Daoist looked at Lu Li, sighed faintly, and slowly asked:
"Never mind… Your two brothers, did they die on Demon Head Mountain?"
Upon hearing this, a trace of eager hope immediately flickered in Lu Li's eyes.
He instinctively reached into his embrace—the mystic bone wrapped in rags was still there, pressed against his chest, faintly warm.
He almost instinctively wanted to pull it out.
As long as this old Daoist was willing to go up the mountain… even if he exchanged it for that, it would be worth it.
But just as his hand reached into his clothes, he suddenly paused.
In that cave, the woman, beautiful beyond human comparison, had desperately guarded this bone before her death;
She had been trapped for ten years, and even with her tongue cut out and belly gouged, she refused to let go.
This thing was definitely no ordinary object.
He couldn't discern whether this old Daoist in front of him was an Immortal or a Devil Head. If he coveted this object and killed him to silence him, wouldn't he fail to even retrieve his brothers' remains?
Lu Li's fingers slowly withdrew from his embrace, he lowered his head, his eyes dimmed, but then he suddenly knelt down with a "thud," his forehead hitting the ground heavily.
"Please… My two brothers' bodies are still on Demon Head Mountain… No one dares to go, and I alone… cannot bring them back…"
He spoke very softly, but very sincerely.
Grief, fear, and caution intertwined within the small body of an eleven-year-old child, transforming into repeated kowtows.
The bluestone on the ground was stained with blood, and the corpse house behind him was empty and silent.