41: sneaking into the mountain gate at night, shrouded in mist

Three days after the letter of intent was signed, at 11:00 PM.

Zhaojiaao Village fell into a deep sleep, with only a few scattered agritainment farmhouses still lit. On the dirt road outside the village, two black SUVs drove up silently and stopped by the edge of a forest about half a kilometer away.

Seven people got out of the cars, all wearing dark windbreakers and carrying professional hiking backpacks. The leader was a lean, sturdy man in his early thirties, nicknamed "Pangolin." He was the "professional team" General Manager Zheng had hired from the provincial capital—ostensibly for geological survey, but actually to probe the depths of Qingfeng Temple.

"The boss said the focus is to check that well on the mountain, as well as the geological structure beneath the temple." Pangolin lowered his voice. "Is all the equipment ready?"

"Ready." A young team member patted his backpack. "Ground-penetrating radar, thermal imagers, infrasound detectors... all the latest models."

"Remember, we are doing a 'legal survey' with the county's permit." Pangolin pulled a document with a red seal from his chest. "But if we encounter obstacles..."

He made a gesture, and the team members understood perfectly.

Under the cover of night, the seven people moved up the mountain along an abandoned hunting trail. Their movements were professional and their steps extremely light; clearly, this wasn't their first time doing such work.

Inside the temple, Li Muchen was sitting quietly in a side hall.

Tonight, the moon was hidden and the stars were sparse, and the mountain wind was exceptionally biting. He suddenly opened his eyes, his Purple Mansion Spiritual Sense spreading out like mercury, instantly covering a radius of fifty zhang.

Seven people, acting suspiciously, were creeping up from the western ridge.

Their breathing, heartbeats, and the faint electromagnetic waves from their equipment were as clear as day in his Spiritual Sense. Especially that infrasound detector—Li Muchen remembered that the "Mountain Eagle" squad had used similar equipment last time.

"Probing again..." he muttered to himself.

With a slight thought, his True Essence circulated. The earth vein suppression talisman obtained from a check-in grew slightly warm in his sleeve, resonating with the Spiritual Vein in the mountain.

Around the temple, those simple Formations that were usually hidden and inconspicuous began to operate silently.

Updating is not easy, remember to share 101kanshu.com

The Pangolin squad successfully reached the outskirts of the temple.

The ancient cypress trees crouched like giant beasts in the night. The temple buildings were pitch black, with only a faint candlelight flickering from the Main Hall—the Ever-burning Lamp.

"Target is quiet, no one on watch." The young team member observed through night-vision goggles. "Strange, why is the light still on if it's been sealed?"

"Who cares." Pangolin waved his hand. "Group one, go to the back of the mountain to probe the well. Group two, follow me into the temple."

Four people moved toward the west wall of the temple, while three turned toward the back of the mountain.

Just as they climbed over the wall—

Mist surged up without warning.

It wasn't the common night mist found in the mountains, but a milky-white, thick-as-milk fog that seeped out from the ground, from the cracks in the walls, and from between every leaf, enveloping the entire temple in an instant.

Visibility plummeted to less than a meter.

"What's going on?" Pangolin barked in a low voice. "The weather forecast didn't say there would be fog!"

"Boss, something's wrong!" the young team member stared at the thermal imager. "This fog... this fog is interfering with the equipment!"

The screen was a mess of static; all thermal signals had disappeared.

Even more bizarrely, all the electronic devices they carried—walkie-talkies, GPS units, detectors—emitted a piercing noise simultaneously, and then the screens went black, all failing at once.

"Electromagnetic interference? Why would there be a strong electromagnetic field here?" Pangolin's heart sank. "Retreat! Pull out first!"

The seven people retreated in the direction they came from, relying on memory.

But after walking for over ten minutes, the surroundings were still filled with thick, impenetrable white mist. The familiar temple walls, stone paths, and ancient cypress trees had all vanished, leaving only an endless expanse of white.

"Ghostly Labyrinth..." one team member's voice trembled.

"Shut up!" Pangolin forced himself to remain calm and pulled out a compass—the needle spun wildly and wouldn't stop.

Just then, a sound came from the mist.

It wasn't a human voice, but... the sound of chanting.

Indistinct, seemingly far yet near, as if coming from high above the Nine Heavens, yet also as if right by their ears. The voice was peaceful and clear, each word carrying a strange rhythm that left the listener in a daze.

"The pure is the source of the turbid, and movement is the basis of stillness..."

The team members looked at each other, seeing fear in each other's eyes.

"It's that Taoist!" the young team member shouted. "He's behind this!"

Before his voice could fade, two points of ghostly green light suddenly lit up in the mist.

Like the eyes of a beast, yet colder and more ancient than any beast's eyes.

The lights floated quietly in the mist, moving slowly as if scrutinizing them.

"What is that?!" Pangolin pulled out a dagger, cold sweat soaking his back.

No one answered.

Only the chanting became clearer, and the green lights drew closer.

"Run!" someone shouted, and the seven people completely broke down, fleeing in all directions.

But no matter which way they ran, they eventually returned to the same spot—those two points of green light always hung in front of them, neither far nor near.

Time was stretched infinitely in their fear.

Some began to scream, some knelt and kowtowed, some collapsed on the ground... the other group wasn't doing any better.

When the three people reached the vicinity of the Spirit Well, a faint blue light suddenly emanated from the well's opening. It wasn't reflected moonlight, but the well water itself glowing—a ghostly, cold blue light that was exceptionally eerie in the thick fog.

"Boss... this well..." a team member's voice shook.

"Take a sample! Fast!" the leader gritted his teeth.

The young team member tremblingly took out a sampling bottle and reached out to scoop the well water.

The moment the bottle's mouth touched the water's surface—

"Boom!"

It wasn't an explosion, but a low rumble that seemed to come from deep within the earth. The entire ground vibrated slightly, and the well water churned as if boiling, the blue light surging.

Even more terrifyingly, the air temperature around the well plummeted. Frost spread across the ground at a visible speed, instantly climbing onto their shoes.

"Cold... so cold..." The young team member's hand froze in mid-air, and the bottle and sampling tools fell to the ground with a "clack," shattering into pieces.

The three retreated in terror, only to find their legs felt as if they were frozen, unable to move.

In the well water, a blurry reflection slowly appeared—it wasn't the reflection of the three of them, but a phantom image of a cross-legged Taoist, with compassionate features and a solemn, dignified appearance.

The phantom glanced at them.

With just one look, the three felt as if they had been struck by lightning. Their minds went blank; they forgot about the survey, the mission, and the bonus.

Only a boundless awe, originating from the depths of their Souls, remained.

They involuntarily knelt down, their foreheads touching the ground, their bodies shaking like fallen leaves in the wind.

This mist lasted for an entire night.

It wasn't until the eastern horizon turned pale that the thick fog slowly dissipated.

The temple reappeared, the ancient cypress trees remained as they were, and the Spirit Well was as calm as before. It was as if everything last night had been just a nightmare.

The seven members of the Pangolin squad were slumped on the open ground in front of the temple, their faces pale and their eyes vacant, as if they had endured three days and nights of relentless torture.

Their equipment was scattered everywhere, all destroyed. The ground-penetrating radar's screen was shattered, the thermal imager was emitting blue smoke, and the infrasound detector had become a pile of scrap metal.

"Boss..." the young team member spoke weakly, "Are we... are we still surveying?"

Pangolin's lips trembled, unable to speak for a long time.

He remembered what General Manager Zheng had said while patting his shoulder before they left: "Pangolin, I trust you to handle this. As long as you figure out the truth about that temple, money is no object."

But now... he watched the rising sun shine on the mottled walls of the temple, saw the mountain gate that was still open despite the seals, and saw the figure in blue Taoist robes slowly sweeping fallen leaves inside the gate... a chill rushed from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

This was no ordinary temple.

That Taoist was by no means an ordinary person.

"Retreat..." Pangolin struggled to stand up, his voice hoarse. "Retreat immediately!"

The seven supported each other as they stumbled down the mountain. They didn't even want the expensive equipment scattered on the ground, as if there were demons chasing them.

At nine in the morning, General Manager Zheng received a call in his hotel room in the county seat.

"General Manager Zheng... the mission... failed." Pangolin's voice was still shaking. "That temple... is sinister... too sinister..."

After listening to the brief report, General Manager Zheng's face turned ashen.

"What mist? What green light? What reflection in the well?" He suppressed his anger. "Pangolin, I paid you not to listen to ghost stories!"

"General Manager Zheng, I've been in this business for ten years, and this is the first time I've encountered something like this." Pangolin's voice carried a sob. "I don't want the money anymore; I'll return the deposit to you. This job... I can't take it."

The call was disconnected.

General Manager Zheng slammed his phone onto the floor.

"Useless! All useless!"

He paced around the room a few times, picked up his phone again, and dialed Zhou Mingde's number.

"Minister Zhou, there was a bit of an accident last night..." He tried to keep his voice calm. "The survey team encountered thick fog, the equipment was damaged, and they returned empty-handed. I suggest we proceed directly with enforcement procedures."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

"General Manager Zheng, I told you before, this matter cannot be rushed." Zhou Mingde's voice sounded very tired. "Li Muchen is no ordinary person. Using force... might not have a good outcome."

"Then what do you suggest? Just wait? With capital costs of hundreds of thousands a day, can we afford to wait?"

"Wait a bit longer." Zhou Mingde said slowly. "Wait for... a suitable opportunity."

The call ended.

General Manager Zheng looked at the bustling county town outside the window, then toward the mist-shrouded Yuntai Mountain in the distance, his eyes dark.

He suddenly remembered what the old man often said: "Some money can be earned; some money, if earned, will cost you your life."

Could this money from Yuntai Mountain... be money that costs a life?

On the mountain, Li Muchen finished sweeping the leaves and leaned the broom against the wall.

He walked to the mountain gate and looked at the two seals.

In the morning light, the writing on the seals was clearly visible: "Sealed by Yuntai County Religious Affairs Bureau," "Sealed by Yuntai County Public Security Fire Department."

He reached out his finger and lightly brushed over them.

Where his fingertip passed, the seals remained intact, but the writing on them quietly faded a bit.

It wasn't erased, but "faded"—as if it had experienced a hundred years of wind and frost, naturally losing its color.

"Since you want to seal it, then seal it." He said softly. "I just don't know whether your seals will fade first, or if this temple will fall first."

He turned and returned to the hall.

Inside the hall, the flame of the Ever-burning Lamp flickered once.

On the altar, the new item obtained from last night's check-in lay quietly—Mist Formation Flag (Replica), a Low Grade Magical Artifact that can control water vapor in a small area to create a misty illusion.

Li Muchen picked up the Formation Flag, looked at it, and put it back down.

"Just a small trick." He shook his head. "If they refuse to come to their senses..."

He didn't continue.

He just looked out of the hall, down the mountain, and toward the distance.

The mountain wind blew through the hall, bringing the chill of early spring.

It also brought the faint sound of thunder from afar.

This time, it wasn't spring thunder.

It was the thunder of human hearts, the thunder of desire, the thunder of greed.

Deep within the clouds, it was gathering a power that could destroy the world.