Chapter Seventy-Three: Building Bridges

The black cloak listened to Zhang the Grimace’s question and smiled, “Of course there’s nothing more. I just happened to see what was ahead, that’s all.”

This obvious evasion made Zhang the Grimace quite suspicious, but he didn’t press further—there was nothing to be gained from it. If this black cloak had already been here before, then the path below the Celestial Pool was surely much safer. Zhang the Grimace nodded, feeling that he had picked the right leader after all.

“Alright, then how far do you estimate it is?”

The black cloak pondered for a moment, shining the flashlight into the abyss ahead. We all strained our eyes to look. Whether it was psychological suggestion or not, it seemed as if, not too far in the depths, there was a faint outline of a platform blocking the flow of the lake water.

“About thirty meters or so,” the black cloak replied.

Zhang the Grimace nodded, pulled out a bundle of threaded steel pipes from the kayak behind, and, without much effort, slung them around his waist. He then glanced at Mengya, who had been silent for a while. “Hey, you’re quite agile too. Want to come with me? That way we’ll be quicker.”

Since the black cloak had appeared in this narrow passage, Mengya hadn’t uttered a word, as if she had become mute, her mind wandering elsewhere. Startled by Zhang the Grimace’s call, she seemed to awaken from a dream, “What?”

Zhang the Grimace, seeing she hadn’t heard a word, snorted coldly and repeated his earlier offer.

“I’m not going,” Mengya replied without a trace of hesitation, her tone icy.

Zhang the Grimace fully expected to recruit a helper, but was flatly refused with a single sentence, leaving him somewhat embarrassed. He could only shake his head and shoot me a disdainful look from the corner of his eye, wedged as I was between the two women. “If your husband’s flirting with others, there’s no use taking it out on me.”

I was caught off guard by Zhang the Grimace’s abrupt remark. Really, this guy just loves stirring up trouble. Wasn’t he just trying to get me scolded? Then again, he fears nothing and no one, while I’m not so bold. The traditional fear of one’s wife, so deeply rooted in Chinese culture, clearly didn’t apply to him. He had no idea how terrifying a wife’s pillow talk could be. I might not be subject to domestic violence, but Mengya was hardly a forgiving sort. Thinking of this, I silently groaned, but did not retort.

“Oh, dear.” As I sat there on pins and needles, the black cloak let out a coquettish, mocking cry. “Since Mengya isn’t going, what am I doing here, sitting around like a statue?” With that, she stood up.

Zhang the Grimace’s sinister mouth seemed to twitch in a sneer, as if he were laughing at us.

Only now did I understand the troubles of polygamy in ancient times. No wonder palace intrigue dramas had become so popular in recent years. Just these two women exchanging barbs was enough to turn the air frigid; how could an emperor with three thousand concubines hope for peace? I thought to myself, hurry and build the bridge so I can have some peace and quiet.

Zhang the Grimace tightened the climbing rope he had just tied. “Just hand me the steel pipes.” The black cloak nodded, carrying the pipes to the bow of the boat.

With a spring of his feet, Zhang the Grimace leapt over a meter high, grasping a massive stalactite overhead with one hand. He glanced back at the black cloak, who understood at once and, javelin-style, hurled a steel pipe up to him, its cold gleam flashing through the air.

I was alarmed—if he missed, the pointed end of that steel pipe would pierce right through him. But as I watched, my heart eased.

Zhang the Grimace, clinging to the stalactite like a monkey, didn’t hesitate. With a flick of his head, the steel pipe flashed past his ear, and as if by instinct, he swung out his hand and caught it firmly. Using the momentum, he let out a muffled grunt and exhaled sharply through his nose. But instead of mucus, what came out was two faint streams of white smoke—like a master smoker—something I’d only heard of in martial arts tales, supposedly the result of a master channeling internal energy from the dantian. But honestly, you could have hammered the steel pipe in; why bother with qigong?

Looking at Zhang the Grimace hanging from the stalactite, smug as ever, I realized he used qigong instead of a hammer just to show off in front of everyone. As if to say, look at me, Zhang the Grimace—see if any of you possess such skill. Realizing this, I chuckled silently. No matter how illustrious his past, at the end of the day he was still a man in his twenties—a “half-grown child” with a bit of a childish streak, showing off for no real reason.

As I mused, the black cloak picked up three more steel pipes and, with three sharp sounds, sent them flying toward Zhang the Grimace, as if competing with him.

In the dim light, the pipes sailed through the air, each one driven into the cave roof with the clang of Zhang the Grimace’s hammering. The two of them, like performers in a martial opera, accompanied by the rhythm of Zhang the Grimace’s strikes, never missed a beat—an impressive sight.

“This girl really is that skilled?” Iron Crutch Liu muttered. I couldn’t help but laugh—he still didn’t know it was she who knocked him out cold with a single palm strike back in the Quicksand Chamber.

I was utterly astonished at their “mastery.” Fortunately, the monstrous loaches in the water seemed unperturbed by the two martial artists putting on a “show” so close by. I don’t know how much time passed before the black cloak finished her acrobatic work at the bow, then returned to sit beside me.

“Were you a circus performer in your past life?” I teased.

The black cloak snorted, “What are you talking about? If your personal bodyguard doesn’t meddle in my affairs, do you think I’ll get myself into trouble?”

I quickly shook my head. “Of course not, of course not. Thank you for your hard work.” As I spoke, I gently stroked her slender waist, which seemed to appease her anger.

Clang!

While we were talking, Zhang the Grimace had already climbed back along the steel pipes and jumped onto the boat deck.

“Alright, enough gawking—turn on all the spotlights.”

We all stood up immediately as the crew switched on the spotlights. The cave was instantly illuminated, quartz crystals sparkling in the beams, refracting light over ten meters into the dark.

Zhang the Grimace cleared his hoarse throat and pointed to the black cloak beside him. “Just as she said, about twenty meters behind those loaches is a platform. The platform descends—a passageway, most likely leading to the tomb’s entrance.” He gestured to a distant spot, now faintly visible in the light. “Look over there.”

I focused my gaze. In the darkness, the water was blocked by a not-so-high stone cliff, which revealed only a platform-sized space. It did seem to slope downward, though not by much.

“Third Brother, how do we get over there? The boat’s stuck,” Iron Crutch Liu asked, echoed by the others.

Zhang the Grimace pointed to the stalactites above. “We climb across on the steel pipes, of course.”

“What?” The Kaleidoscope Scholar looked stricken. “Third Brother, it’s fine for you, but I’m just a humble scholar—I can’t scale walls like you all.”

Zhang the Grimace snorted impatiently. “Kaleidoscope, if you don’t have the skill, whose fault is that? Then you can just stay here and starve.”

“Uh…” The Kaleidoscope Scholar was speechless, then, after a moment’s hesitation and resignation, said, “Fine, fine, I’ll do my best to crawl over. But can you guarantee those monster loaches in the water won’t interfere?”

Zhang the Grimace glanced at the monstrous loaches, then shot the Kaleidoscope a sidelong look. “I can’t guarantee that. Who knows, maybe the creature finds you pleasing and wants to keep you for company—if it does, there’s nothing I can do about it.”