"So maybe we can try to capture the cracks, or tunnels, created by the temporal distortion here, and then travel back like Yi Ran and Ke Xun did…" Zhu Haowen's tone, however, was not as firm as usual, carrying obvious uncertainty, hesitation, and even pessimism.
Capture a time tunnel? How?
Travel back to the past? Which period in the past would we travel to? Yesterday? The very beginning of the Ru Hua incident? Or perhaps, the ancient world of mountains and seas?
This isn't a bus, where you can get off at any stop you want.
Clearly, everyone was well aware of the difficulty in realizing this idea, and a moment of despairing silence fell over them.
Until Zhu Haowen lowered his eyelids, completely giving up: "We have no way."
There was no way, it was impossible to do it with manpower alone, and besides, it was too late—a deafening, tearing sound suddenly came from the top of the dome formed by the tornado column. Everyone hurriedly looked up, only to see that from where the wind was raging, a huge, indescribable black object, like a writhing bud, was emerging from the wind membrane, twisting in a chilling way, trying to completely break free from the hole in the wind membrane!
"The demon is out—" Li Xiaochun roared in shock and despair, and Wu You and Gu Qingqing screamed in terror one after another.
"It's too late—there's no way—only death—only death—" Wei Dong held his head, looking desperately at the sky above. Luo Yi collapsed beside him, curled up in a ball, crying his heart out.
"Yiran..." Ke Xun looked at Mu Yiran sadly and shook his head slightly.
Mu Yiran frowned deeply, staring at the whirlwind above. He was still pondering, unwilling to give up, making a final, desperate struggle.
"That's enough," Zhu Haowen's tense body suddenly relaxed, a resigned relief in his eyes. He glanced at Ke Xun and smiled. "See you in another dimension."
Ke Xun couldn't speak, looking at him sadly.
See you in another dimension.
A farewell phrase only those who had entered the painting understood.
Wei Dong turned his head, his gaze unfocused, glanced at everyone, and gave a bitter smile: "How ridiculous... I used to think we were some kind of high-level divine artifact like the Nine Cauldrons. Turns out we're just lowly sacrifices. I even thought that even if we died, we'd die to save the world. But it turns out the world-saving force isn't us, but the *Shan Hai Tu* (a magical scroll). We're just little puppets being pricked with needles in a witchcraft scheme. The one who truly kills the other is the one who cast the spell, the one who made the puppets and pricked them with needles... We're just chosen victims, destined cannon fodder, lowly props... just props..."
Wei Dong wiped his eyes. He straightened his face, took a breath, and looked up at the grotesque monster that was writhing and swirling downwards from the wind. His hand trembled as he fumbled in his pocket. "I've always been a coward… I've always hidden behind Ke'er, always been protected and shielded by him. But this time, I want to be brave…"
He pulled out his utility knife. "This time, let me lead the charge for everyone, Ke'er, everyone," Wei Dong said with a smile, "See you in another dimension."
He raised his hand, and with trembling but forceful movements, used the sharp blade of the utility knife to slash at the carotid artery in his neck.
"—Dongzi—" Ke Xun roared and lunged forward, only managing to catch Wei Dong's bleeding body as he collapsed in his arms. Ke Xun held him tightly, unable to utter a sound, only a faint, agonizing moan escaping from his chest.
Everyone stood frozen in shock and grief, watching Wei Dong's blood overflow and flow across the altar beneath him. The thick, hot blood seemed to possess its own consciousness, gushing forth and spreading, forming crimson ghostly symbols that surged and scattered, rapidly covering the altar.
"Little Wei... Little Wei's bone structure is fading..." Yue Cen's inherent strength and composure allowed her to perceive the changes in Wei Dong's corpse more calmly than the others.
"These blood symbols... are the manifestation of the energy of the bone structure." Zhu Haowen was the second to force himself back to calm, looking upwards. "That thing that just crawled out seems to have been forcefully pushed back down by an invisible force."
"It's the bone structure, the blood symbols formed from Wei Dong's bone structure, imposing some restraint on the demon," Shao Ling also looked up, "but clearly this restraint isn't strong enough; that thing is about to break through again..."
"So... so we have to continue... continue dying..." Hua Jiqiu murmured.
"Sister Cen, can I borrow your pistol?" Fang Fei's voice rang out. She took the spare gun from Yue Cen's waistband, turned and walked a dozen steps away, raising her hand to her temple. "See you in another dimension."
The gunshot rang out, and Fang Fei's body, as always, fell cleanly onto the altar.
"No—no—" Wu You screamed in despair, clutching her head and crouching down, desperately burying her face in her knees, frantically pulling at her hair.
Ke Xun suddenly stood up from beside Wei Dong, set him down, turned and strode over to Wu You, placing his hand over her head, his voice hoarse yet strangely calm: "Wu You, lift your head and look at Dongzi, or Fang Fei, try to see something by examining their bone structure."
Wu You slumped to the ground, her face covered in snot and tears, her hair disheveled and stuck to it, yet she still obeyed Ke Xun's words, desperately trying to control her emotions as she faced the corpses of her dead comrades, staring at them tremblingly. "
But...
I can't see... I'm sorry... I can't see anything..." Wu You cried, "I'm useless... I can't see anything anymore..."
"No, this has nothing to do with you, it's not your problem," Ke Xun said in a deep voice.
"Perhaps, only the dying can see it." Shao Ling brushed his sweat-dampened hair back, his lips trembling slightly, "We seem to have overlooked the last letter, the contents of that girl's writing. We thought it was just an ordinary last note, but I think it should have revealed some information, such as the girl she mentioned named 'Wan Yu,' saying that she almost died, then recovered, and after waking up, she talked nonsense to her, saying that she floated into the air and saw insects covered with human faces... I'm not sure... I don't know if this counts as a clue, maybe it really was just a hallucination before death, but we can't rule out the possibility that she really saw something..."
"If a life form is composed of a body and consciousness," Zhu Haowen's eyes were pale, "then when a person's vital signs are extremely unstable, it's not impossible for the body and consciousness to separate, since they are not matter of the same dimension. Consciousness transcends dimensions and sees things invisible to the naked eye, but at this moment it is still inextricably linked to the body. After returning to the body, the information seen by the consciousness is transmitted into the body, so when the body wakes up, it remembers what the consciousness saw."
"But… to achieve this effect, it probably requires someone to be… on the verge of death." Hua Jiqiu looked at the two of them.
In other words, someone needs to die a less than swift death. This person must struggle agonizingly during the slow death process, and while suffering, must try their best to convey what they have seen to others.
And this method is not guaranteed to succeed. No one knows to what extent one must be on the verge of death to see, whether one can still manage to convey the information at that point, perhaps dying completely without even a chance to speak, or perhaps seeing nothing at all, and everything being pure illusion…
The cruelest part is that, regardless of whether this method succeeds or not, the person will die slowly in unbearable pain.
They cannot choose a quick death, one that doesn't involve excessive suffering.
"I'll do it," Ke Xun said.
"No!" Zhu Haowen said decisively. Seeing Ke Xun looking at him, he turned to point at Mu Yiran, "...He's still trying to find a way. If we can really survive like every other painting, then this only glimmer of hope rests on his shoulders. So you can't die now. If you die, he definitely won't be able to think calmly anymore. Or, even if he can still think calmly, if you die, everything will be meaningless to him, right? Just consider it as trying to find a way to completely end this, just consider it as preventing the next batch of people from entering the painting. You, this time, this time you'll stay behind, can you, Ke Xun?"
Before Ke Xun could speak, Yue Cen's voice came over with some difficulty: "You...it'd better have someone...stay close to me..."
The group quickly looked in the direction of the voice and saw Yue Cen struggling to support herself with one hand on her cane, the other hand clutching her abdomen, glaring blood seeping from between her fingers. A blood-stained fruit knife lay at her feet.
"Sister Cen!" The group rushed over to support her as she swayed.
Yue Cen, breathing heavily, gestured for everyone to help her sit down. Her voice weak, she said, "My... pain tolerance is a little higher than most people... it's just... I'm afraid I'll be too weak to explain what I saw clearly... You... listen carefully..."
"I'm listening, I'm listening, Sister Cen, you..." Gu Qingqing desperately gritted her teeth, trying to stifle her sobs, afraid of disturbing Yue Cen's voice. She instinctively wanted to say, "Just bear with it," but then realized how inappropriate that would be.
Such endurance was undoubtedly the cruelest form of torture, and even if she did endure it, what difference would it make? People have to die, even if they can survive by enduring it, they still have to kill themselves again…
Yue Cen forced a smile, looking at the crowd surrounding her: "Everyone… don't be too anxious, try your best… stall for time. You see… after Fang Fei's sacrifice, the monster in the wind… calmed down a bit, although it was only for a short time… but we… we can try to delay it… give… Xiao Mu as much time as possible, everyone try your best… stall until the monster is about to break through the membrane, then…"
The crowd understood her meaning and nodded painfully.
"I don't know… how far…" Yue Cen became even weaker, her breath barely audible, "You… watch out… if I don't have time to speak… and I faint, don't worry… try to wake me up…"
Gu Qingqing nodded through her tears, bent down, and gently pressed her ear against Yue Cen's cheek.
Qin Ci knelt down on the other side of Yue Cen, gently placed his hand on her pulse, lowered his eyes, and silently felt her heart rate.
As the pulse beneath her fingers grew weaker and slower, Yue Cen closed her eyes.
"Sister Cen—Sister Cen—" Gu Qingqing shook her body sadly.
Qin Ci untied the medicine box he was carrying. He had brought it up with him intending it as his own burial offering. This medicine box was left to him by his grandfather, a traditional Chinese medicine doctor; it was a family heirloom.
Unfortunately, he was unmarried and childless, and this medicine box would have to end here with him.
Qin Ci took out a syringe and a vial of medicine from the box. With practiced speed and skill, he drew the liquid, disinfected the injection site, inserted the needle, injected the fluid, and removed the needle.
This was a resuscitation injection, usually given when a patient's heart has stopped, in the hope of bringing them back to life, or at least temporarily.
Qin Ci knew this was cruel; he was prolonging Yue Cen's suffering, forcibly pulling her back from the peace of death to continue enduring the torment.
But she certainly wouldn't want to suffer this torment in vain and die in vain.
Her strength deserved to be rewarded.
Yue Cen regained a faint consciousness, but she no longer had the strength to open her eyes. Her lips moved slightly, and she uttered something barely audible.
Gu Qingqing tried her best to put her ear close to her mouth, but she couldn't hear even a few more seconds.
Yue Cen finally stopped breathing and her heart stopped beating; this time, it was forever.