After the task assignments were made, everyone split up. Ebner and Joe headed in one direction, while Chu Qianli and the others took another.
A thin layer of snow covered the ground, revealing patches of dark rock. Several stone pillars stood tall on the open ground, resembling both primitive totems and withered tree trunks.
Dirt and stones flew as workers busily dug at the Sanqing Bell key point.
Country H was already vast and sparsely populated, and the ruins’ location was remote, set on a nondescript mountain plateau. If the snow hadn’t been cleared manually, no passerby would have noticed that something lay hidden beneath.
Chu Qianli inspected one of the stone pillars. Digging out the ice lodged in the crevice at the top, she found a rusted little bell hidden inside. However, the ancient bell was so corroded it couldn’t ring or move.
Chu Qianli touched the bell hanging inside the pillar and hesitantly said, “These things must be ancient. What if they’re too rusted to function?”
Mei Rujing checked it and replied, “They’re meant to be fixed in place.”
Tan Muxing commented, “The bell looks really similar to the Sanqing Bell.”
“It does…” Chu Qianli looked at Mei Rujing. “We should try shaking the Sanqing Bell and see what happens.”
Just then, Liu Jun, surveying the site, approached with Xu Zaiyuan and informed Chu Qianli and the others, “We also found the compass and peach wood sword key points, but it’ll take time to clear them out. We probably won’t finish today.”
“Let’s regroup with Professor Pan for now and come back tomorrow to continue investigating.”
Ebner and the group had already spent most of the day reaching the Gate of Truth, and with dusk approaching, it wasn’t suitable to continue activities. Some staff stayed behind to clear the ice, while Chu Qianli and the rest returned to the embassy.
By the seven SUVs, Liu Jun opened the driver’s door. Seeing Xu Zaiyuan about to sit in the front seat, he suggested, “Zaiyuan, better sit in the back.”
Everyone paused in confusion.
Facing their puzzled looks, Liu Jun helplessly explained, “There’s a gun in the front.”
Realization dawned on them all.
Tan Muxing and Xu Zaiyuan silently sat in the back, leaving the middle seats for Chu Qianli and Mei Rujing.
The car door closed slowly, shutting out the cold air. Chu Qianli rubbed her hands together, glanced at the front passenger seat, and dryly remarked, “Almost forgot about the role change.”
Liu Jun, once a Daoist priest of the Qian Sect, now had to act as their bodyguard—something he was still adjusting to.
“I hope we won’t have to use it, but better to be prepared.”
Chu Qianli, sitting by the door, kept chatting away—having Mei Rujing pull out the Sanqing Bell to look at it one moment, urging Tan Muxing to admire the snowy scenery outside the next. Her lively chatter filled the vehicle with energy, sharply contrasting the silent Xu Zaiyuan in the back.
While driving, Liu Jun laughed, “You’re a bit like Professor Pan.”
Professor Pan Yicheng was an amiable man who could easily chat with anyone without putting on airs.
Xu Zaiyuan, usually either surrounded by his sect brothers or quietly following Liu Jun, now sat among unfamiliar people for the first time. He silently observed the atmosphere, listening to the casual conversations. Whenever Chu Qianli spoke to Mei Rujing or Liu Jun, Xu Zaiyuan would look toward the speaker but never joined the conversation.
When Tan Muxing, bullied by the lively Chu Qianli, had just finished taking a photo of a glacier and turned around, he caught Xu Zaiyuan’s gaze and looked back questioningly.
Xu Zaiyuan quickly withdrew his eyes.
Tan Muxing, trying to be polite, handed him his phone. “Would you like to see it?”
Xu Zaiyuan hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded lightly and said, “Thank you.”
Tan Muxing realized that Xu Zaiyuan wasn’t particularly interested in the photo but was more focused on following the conversation flow inside the vehicle. It seemed he wanted to join in but didn’t know how.
Chu Qianli’s rapid-fire chatter was something Tan Muxing was used to—he hadn’t expected that Xu Zaiyuan, who was equally gifted in divination, had such an opposite personality.
Not wanting Xu Zaiyuan to feel left out, Tan Muxing forced himself to make small talk, softly asking, “Are you adjusting well on your first day here?”
Caught off guard by the question, Xu Zaiyuan thought for a moment and then said, “The six stone pillars represent the Six Spirits: Azure Dragon, Vermilion Bird, Snake, Gouchen, White Tiger, and Black Tortoise.”
Tan Muxing blinked. “Ah… really?”
Liu Jun, driving, couldn’t help but laugh, “Zaiyuan, he’s asking about you, not the pillars!”
Facing Tan Muxing’s confused look and hearing Liu Jun’s comment, Xu Zaiyuan pressed his lips together and said, “The inside walls of the stone pillar bells are also engraved with the ‘All Things’ Compendium’ and the ‘Xuanhuang Response Songs.’ They seem related to divination…”
Tan Muxing’s head spun with confusion. He barely managed, “Oh, I see…”
“Stop, stop, no work talk during break time!” Chu Qianli suddenly turned around and muttered, “Can’t you chat without making it about divination? Star wanted casual talk, not profound insights!”
“Casual talk?”
Chu Qianli shrugged, “Yeah, like ‘have you eaten,’ ‘is it cold,’ ‘are you adjusting okay’—just small stuff. No need for philosophical truths!”
Xu Zaiyuan fell silent, seemingly struggling to understand. He was used to talking only about calculations and divinations.
Liu Jun stepped in to explain, “Zaiyuan lived on a mountain for a long time with just his sect brothers—he rarely interacted with outsiders.”
Mei Rujing asked in surprise, “He lived on the mountain all this time?”
“Yes.”
Chu Qianli’s eyes sparkled, “So he’s like someone who escaped the nine-year compulsory education system? Didn’t experience the enlightenment of modern schooling?”
Xu Zaiyuan calmly replied, “I did attend school.”
Chu Qianli immediately teased, “Wow, you’re quickest to respond when being doubted!”
After Chu Qianli’s playful interruption, the car’s atmosphere livened up again. It seemed like she could always make conversation happen.
Xu Zaiyuan found her fascinating—so free and lively, with no sign of someone supposedly nearing the end of her lifespan. Compared to the restrained life his master taught him, her energy was like another world.
They arrived back at the embassy.
Chu Qianli and Mei Rujing got out first, with Tan Muxing and Xu Zaiyuan following.
Outside, Xu Zaiyuan hesitated, then said quietly, “It’s good here, but a little cold.”
Tan Muxing froze, then realized Xu Zaiyuan was trying small talk. He replied warmly, “It is pretty cold.”
Xu Zaiyuan, genuinely seeking guidance, asked, “Is this casual talk?”
“…Not exactly,” Tan Muxing scratched his head, “but if you really need a name for it, it’s just friendly conversation without any particular goal.”
Xu Zaiyuan seemed thoughtful. “So even small talk has its charm.”
Inside the embassy, Huang Jue had been sent to the hospital. When Professor Pan Yicheng heard from Liu Jun about the situation, he frowned and said helplessly, “I’m afraid I won’t be able to continue visiting the ruins.”
Liu Jun’s face darkened.
“It seems other countries have gotten wind of this,” Pan Yicheng said, “The upcoming days may not be peaceful.”
Although China and the Mondson family had agreed to jointly develop the ruins, surrounding forces from H country were also growing restless. Solving the ruins’ mysteries might not be the end—it might just mark the beginning of new conflicts.
Liu Jun solemnly vowed, “We will complete the mission.”
Meanwhile, Lin sat silently in his room, crushing the paper in his hand, his eyes locked on the Mondson family crest.
Q had assigned Ebner to lead the ruins exploration, leaving Lin only peripheral tasks—a clear blow to his ambitions. Now sidelined while Ebner’s team moved forward in an orderly fashion, Lin looked furious.
Shi Zhuoqun noticed Lin’s grim face and tried to console him, “But Q still assigned you to oversee the Baby Stone development project.”
Lin drummed his fingers irritably on the desk and sneered, “He first gave me the ruins project, then changed his mind. Who knows what he’ll change next?”
Unable to respond, Shi Zhuoqun stayed quiet.
Lin picked up the Mondson crest and casually said, “Do you know the origin of this symbol?”
The Mondson crest depicted a snake and an apple, clearly alluding to the old story.
“Isn’t it based on Adam and Eve eating the apple after being tempted by the snake?”
“That’s right. But what they actually ate wasn’t an apple—it was the Fruit of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Adam and Eve initially had no knowledge of good and evil. After eating the fruit, they gained human intelligence and shame and were expelled from Eden.” Lin raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Isn’t it unfair? Just for having their own thoughts.”
“Q acts like a god looking down on us. But unfortunately, I’m not Adam or Eve.” Lin clenched the crest tightly, his eyes glinting with cold ambition. “I won’t be so easily driven out.”
If he was destined to be expelled from Eden, then he would rather commit deicide first.
The next day, Ebner’s team notified the Chinese side that they too had located a key point and were continuing their orderly exploration.
The Chinese team reorganized: Xu Zaiyuan and Liu Jun were sent to the peach wood sword placement site, while Chu Qianli and others stayed at the Sanqing Bell site. The compass and tarot card sites were farther away and would be visited the next day.
The surface snow was now fully cleared, revealing countless small stone stumps scattered like pieces on a chessboard.
Chu Qianli peered into the bells: “The Daoist was right—there’s writing inside.”
The six main bells had inscriptions—ancient case studies and mnemonics for divination, all in classical Chinese. Like a medical casebook, the ancients had summarized and rhymed their divination experiences for easy memorization.
However, Chu Qianli couldn’t understand much. She was trained in Zi Wei astrology, not this system.
“They’re all related to Plum Blossom Divination,” Mei Rujing said, examining them. “But some of them I’ve never seen before.”
“They said there were some unknown records here,” Tan Muxing noted.
“Then after placing the key, let’s copy these cases down.” Chu Qianli held up the Sanqing Bell and said, “But where exactly are we supposed to put it?”
She shook the Sanqing Bell—and it resonated deeply.
Suddenly, the six pillar bells chimed in response!
“What the hell?” Mei Rujing exclaimed.
“Are these six little brothers of the Sanqing Bell?” Chu Qianli joked, but halfway through, she clutched her head in pain and nearly dropped the bell.
Tan Muxing rushed to support her. “What’s wrong?”
Seven bells ringing together triggered visions—an overwhelming flood of images.
Chu Qianli shook her head weakly. “It’s the same as the tunnel patterns—the sound triggers a calculation reaction.”
Sound could trigger divination just like patterns, and trying to calculate under the barrage was agonizing!
“I think I know what to do,” Mei Rujing said, stepping lightly onto one of the stone stumps. “You two keep shaking the bell.”
“Just keep shaking?” Tan Muxing asked.
“Yes, but it’s best if it’s rhythmic. If I’m not mistaken, this place should rely on the Heart Technique,” Mei Rujing recalled. “It’s pretty much like the games I used to play with my grandmother when I was little.”
The six stone pillars corresponded to the six deities, and the central plum blossom stake also followed a pattern. Based on Mei Rujing’s guess, the order in which to step on the small stone pillars was important. By continuously shaking the Sanqing Bell and stepping on them in order according to the sound, they would probably be able to solve the puzzle here.
Mei Rujing walked on the stone pillars while Chu Qianli shook the bell. She waved the Sanqing Bell and called out loudly, “Okay! Drop the beat!”
As the Sanqing Bell rang, the six bells responded!
Mei Rujing stepped onto one of the stone pillars.
Upon hearing the sound, Chu Qianli couldn’t help but react, the pain causing her to gasp. It felt like something sharp was poking inside her head. She wanted to use divination to seek the cause, but the very thought of it made the pain even worse.
Tan Muxing noticed the tension in her expression and quickly took out two pairs of earplugs from his pocket. He inserted one in each of her ears and then covered her cold, red ears with his hands, asking, “Can you still hear it now?”
Chu Qianli felt her frozen ears warming up and couldn’t help but squint in comfort, also noticing that the noise around her had lessened significantly.
Mei Rujing called out to her, “Don’t think about divination. This is a test of the Heart Technique. If you start to think of complex calculations, you’ll be affected by the sound.”
Seeing Mei Rujing open and close her mouth rhythmically, Chu Qianli blinked in confusion and asked, “Should I do divination? Listen to the sound?”
“Don’t do divination! Don’t listen to the sound!”
“Don’t stop?”
“That’s good, she can’t hear anymore, so it should be fine.” Mei Rujing noticed that Tan Muxing was covering Chu Qianli’s ears and realized she couldn’t hear properly, so she wouldn’t be affected anymore.
After Chu Qianli could no longer hear the bell sounds, the headache gradually disappeared, and she started shaking the bell rhythmically.
Mei Rujing didn’t attempt any divination. Light as a swallow, she walked across the stone pillars, and soon she began to feel a subtle vibration, as though the six stone pillars and the stone stakes had triggered a mechanism.
Chu Qianli already knew that what she had learned was different from Mei Rujing. Ziwei Doushu was a form of astrology based on the stars to predict people’s fate or destinies, a system that focused on observing the process. However, Mei Rujing had learned the Plum Blossom Heart Technique, which emphasized the result.
The so-called Heart Technique (Xin Yi) might be the ultimate form of divination—setting aside the tedious and boring process of casting the divination patterns, it relies purely on intuition and inspiration, without any reference, using it directly and making bold, accurate predictions!
Each form of divination might, to some extent, reflect the user’s personality. It’s like how Chu Qianli always insists on digging into the origins of metaphysics; she wants to sort out the cause and effect before proceeding. But Mei Rujing is much more carefree and direct in her approach, only needing to rely on her intuition to sense the outcome of events.
At this moment, Mei Rujing had no divination pattern in mind; she was purely relying on the sound of the bells to trigger her sixth sense, gradually approaching the central stone pillar. This stone pillar was different from the others and was likely the endpoint.
Chu Qianli continued shaking the bell. Though she couldn’t hear it now, she sensed that the difficulty was increasing.
In the next moment, several sharp arrows suddenly shot out from the stone pillar’s hole, targeting the unprepared Mei Rujing!
The old, mysterious mechanism was beyond anyone’s expectations.
“Rujing, be careful!”
Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing both broke into a cold sweat but saw Mei Rujing nimbly dodge the arrows, as if she had already predicted it.
Seeing her avoid the arrows, Chu Qianli immediately continued shaking the bell, coordinating with Mei Rujing to help her move forward.
Next, the remaining stone pillars also shot out arrows, and cold light sparkled in the air. Several times, they nearly grazed the people on the field!
However, Mei Rujing was always able to narrowly dodge them, as if she had eyes on the back of her head.
The central stone pillar was just a step away.
Mei Rujing stepped onto it, and the six stone pillars let out a loud rumbling sound, causing even the bells to ring with a deafening hum!
Chu Qianli covered her ears, but even then, her head still throbbed painfully. She muttered, “This sound won’t cause an avalanche, will it?”
The six bells rang in unison, creating an astonishing force!
Everyone around was affected by the activation of the stone pillars, except for the place where Mei Rujing stood, which remained untouched.
After the violent tremor, everything returned to calm.
Not long later, a nearby staff member reported, “We just received word from the hall—one of the beads has fallen into the slot!”
The seven-star alignment was completed with one bead, leaving six more beads.
Mei Rujing stepped down from the stone pillar and looked at the sharp throwing darts that had fallen to the ground, each about the length of a finger. She suddenly recalled when she was young and studied the Heart Technique; her grandmother would always interrupt her midway. She couldn’t help but sigh, “Even the hidden weapons are just like the games I played when I was little.”
Tan Muxing looked troubled. “…Rujing, what kind of childhood did you have?” It felt like such a strange childhood experience.
Chu Qianli replied, “That might just be the generation gap. We didn’t play the same way when we were kids.”
Mei Rujing asked, “Do we have a generation gap?”
Chu Qianli said seriously, “Although there is a saying ‘playing with life,’ when we were kids in the countryside, we generally didn’t play like that.”
“……”
