stjorthotic Chapter 6: The Interpretation of the Ancient Book, The Cursed Black Mountain
Chapter 6: The Interpretation of the Ancient Book, The Cursed Black Mountain
The white smoke inside the grotto gradually dissipated, and the pungent alkaline smell mixed with the smell of burnt protein in the air was not pleasant. However, for the group who had just walked through the gates of hell, this smell was more reassuring than the world's finest perfume.
Not a single red ant crawled out of the crack that had been pried open in the ancient well.
Although desert army ants are fierce, they are still living beings with the instinct to seek advantage and avoid harm.
The high temperature and the chemical gases that destroy pheromones created a death zone around the ancient well that they could not cross.
The crisis has been temporarily averted.
Everyone slumped to the ground like mud, panting heavily.
Professor Zhou wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, but his gaze never left Lin Mu, who was sitting in the corner with his eyes closed, resting.
The red, blue, and white striped snakeskin woven bag was casually tossed at Lin Mu's feet, but in Professor Zhou's eyes, it was practically a Doraemon pocket filled with ancient secret techniques.
"Lin Mu..."
Professor Zhou rubbed his hands together, then leaned closer like an eager student, his tone ingratiating: "That book you mentioned earlier... the ancient book left by your elders, what's its name? Which dynasty is it a unique copy from? Besides the insect-repelling remedies, does it contain any historical documents about the thirty-six kingdoms of the Western Regions?"
Professor Zhou's series of questions came like a machine gun.
For an old scholar who dedicated his life to archaeology, the allure of an ancient book that might contain lost secrets and historical truths was even greater than that of the Jingjue Ancient City itself.
The eight million viewers in the live stream also perked up their ears, the barrage of comments instantly cleared, and everyone was waiting for Lin Mu's answer.
Lin Mu slowly opened his eyes.
His deep, calm eyes revealed no emotion. Looking at Professor Zhou, whose face was full of expectation, he simply uttered eight words.
"The teachings of our elders must not be passed on to outsiders."
These eight words were like an impenetrable iron wall, blocking all of Professor Zhou's curiosity.
Professor Zhou was taken aback for a moment, but instead of getting angry, he showed an expression of sudden realization.
"I understand, I understand! I was being presumptuous!"
Professor Zhou waved his hands repeatedly, his eyes filled with even deeper awe: "This kind of rare secret technique, in ancient times, would have been a family secret passed down only to sons, even guarded with one's life. For Mr. Lin to use it to save everyone's lives at this time is already a great act of righteousness. How could I dare to ask to see the original book? I'm so foolish, so foolish!"
The live stream chat exploded again:
Holy crap! Those eight words are amazing! So cool!
Professor Zhou himself has managed to make his own logic coherent, hahaha!
[Nonsense! How could those legendary tomb-raiding families possibly share their secret techniques with just anyone? Lin Mu's operation was flawless!]
The less he says, the more unfathomable his family background becomes! I've already started imagining a two-million-word epic of family feuds and intrigues.
Inside a high-end apartment in Yanjing.
Agent Zhao Yaqi stared at the rapidly fluctuating data on her tablet, so excited that she slammed her coffee cup onto the table.
"It exploded! It completely exploded!"
In just the past half hour, Lin Mu's Weibo followers have surged by three million at an alarming rate!
And they're all live fans!
Five out of the top ten trending topics are about Lin Mu.
#Lin Mu Breaking Bad#
#Lin Mu, descendant of a family of tomb raiders#
#Lin Mu's Lifesaving Grace#
#The End of Science is Lin Mu#
The marketing account that previously bought trending topics to mock Lin Mu for being a poor student with too much stationery has been forced to delete its account overnight by angry netizens.
As for Han Zeyu, who made sarcastic remarks and subtly criticized Lin Mu's unprofessionalism during the interview, his latest Weibo post has been flooded with comments in a uniform style:
[Teacher Han, do you know what Western Region Fire Dragon Oil is? If not, I suggest you read more ancient books.]
Zhao Yaqi laughed so hard she almost cried when she saw the comments.
"Mu Zi, oh Mu Zi, what kind of deity have you descended to earth...?"
She murmured to herself, watching the young man in the live stream, wearing a black windbreaker and leaning against the rock wall with his eyes closed, and for the first time felt that she might never have really known this artist.
……
Black sandstorms in the desert come and go quickly.
The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the thin sand and dust and shone on the entrance of the cave, the outside world had already returned to peace.
The once undulating sand dunes have been reshaped by the gale into completely unfamiliar shapes.
After a quick meal of dry rations and a replenishment of fluids, the team resumed their journey.
This time, the team's formation underwent a subtle change.
Chen Wentao, who was usually at the forefront scouting the way, was now walking silently in the middle of the group like a wilted eggplant.
Although Lin Mu was still walking at the back of the group, both the security captain and Professor Zhou would subconsciously look back at Lin Mu when deciding which direction to go.
As long as Lin Mu didn't stop, they felt reassured.
Around 10 a.m.
Uncle Anliman, the guide walking at the front, suddenly stopped the camels.
Instead of shouting as before, he knelt upright on the scorching sand, clasped his hands together, muttered incantations, and murmured tears streaming down his deeply lined face.
"What's wrong, sir? What are you doing?"
Professor Zhou quickly stepped forward to help him up.
Uncle Anliman refused to get up, his hand trembling as he pointed to the horizon.
Everyone looked in the direction he was pointing.
At the end of the endless yellow sand, two huge, pitch-black mountain ranges appeared out of nowhere.
These two mountain ranges resemble two ancient black dragons with their heads severed, lying silently deep in the desert, separated by a narrow canyon.
Even from a great distance, one can still feel the overwhelming, suffocating sense of oppression.
"Zagrama...that's the cursed Black Mountain..."
Uncle Anliman's voice was filled with deep fear: "The devil lives there. Those who go in will have their souls swallowed by the black sand and never return... I'm not leaving, I'd rather die than leave! By the grace of Hu Da, please forgive my sins..."
No matter how Professor Zhou tried to persuade him, or even when the security captain offered double the guide fee, Uncle Anliman remained kneeling on the ground like a stone, refusing to take another step forward.
"Forget it, don't make things difficult for him."
Professor Zhou sighed, "We're not far from those two black mountains now. We'll go there ourselves. Uncle, you stay here with the camels and wait for us."
The group bid farewell to Anliman and continued their journey toward the two black mountain ranges.
As the saying goes, "looking at a mountain makes a horse run itself to death," and this is especially true in the desert.
Even though they were right in front of them, the group walked for more than three hours, finally arriving at the foot of the two black mountains at 1 p.m.
Upon closer inspection, the material of these two mountains is extremely strange.
The entire mountain was devoid of any vegetation, consisting entirely of massive, dark-colored rocks with smooth, mirror-like surfaces.
"Is this the legendary Zaglama Cishan Mountain?"
Hiding behind Su Nianwei, Ye Zhiqiu looked at the towering black rock wall and felt dizzy.
Just then, a rapid alarm sounded in mid-air.
The civilian drone responsible for aerial photography seemed to be drunk, shaking violently in mid-air for a few moments before all four rotors stopped spinning at the same time: with a "thud," it crashed directly onto the sand and shattered into pieces!
"What happened?"
Professor Zhou was startled.
"Professor, something's not right!"
Security captain Wang Meng's expression changed drastically. He patted the military walkie-talkie hanging on his chest, which emitted a loud crackling electrical noise.
"My cell phone has no signal! My walkie-talkie is also out of service!"
"It's not just communication equipment."
Chen Wentao, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke, his voice dry as if it had been rubbed on sandpaper.
He held in his hand an extremely sophisticated military compass.
Under everyone's watchful eyes, the magnetic needle, which should have been pointing steadily north and south, was now spinning wildly on the dial like a helicopter propeller with a motor!
"A strong magnetic field! The magnetic field strength here is completely beyond conventional understanding!"
Chen Wentao pushed up his glasses, cold sweat sliding down his forehead.
"What about the live stream? Was it interrupted?"
Su Nianwei asked with some concern.
"It was interrupted for thirty seconds."
At the rear of the group, the communications technician, sweating profusely, unpacked a heavy military-green metal backpack.
He deftly pulled out a thick, black shielded cable, plugged it directly into the main camera, and then erected a uniquely shaped directional long-wave antenna.
"The conventional radios are all useless! I just activated the backup military-grade heavy-duty antimagnetic repeater backpack! This thing connects directly to the camera with physical cables and then uses long waves to force the signal out of the magnetic field!"
The technician, panting heavily, looked at the frantically flashing red light on his backpack: "Professor, we've barely managed to connect to the back broadcast van! But the picture quality is terrible, and the equipment is overloaded; it could burn out at any moment!"
As the technician operated the system, the previously black screen in the live stream, accompanied by large patches of static, lit up again.
Although the picture quality was as bad as a pirated VCD from the last century, the realism of the static and static microphone gave the viewers in the live stream a suffocating sense of death.
The air seemed to freeze at that moment.
The end of science is metaphysics.
When modern instruments, communication devices, and positioning systems begin to malfunction and become paralyzed, a fear of the unknown, stemming from human instinct, instantly seizes everyone's heart.
They were now like the blind and deaf, standing before a cursed ancient ruin, unable to even find the entrance.