Chapter Thirty-Two: The Solitary Spiderweb Bridge

Suddenly, a few coughs sounded from beside us. Turning around, I was astonished to see that it was Peanut. He was leaning against a spider cocoon, his clothes in tatters and his right shoulder covered in wounds.

“Peanut, are you alright?” I asked, both surprised and relieved. Just then, the gigantic spider’s head in front of us let out a series of howls. We looked over and saw that several of its mouthparts had snapped off and fallen to the ground.

Peanut coughed and urged, “Let’s get out of here. The hair on that thing is as sharp as blades—just getting close could be fatal.” As he spoke, he placed his hand on my shoulder.

I wanted to ask more, but Qin Feng immediately stopped me. “Save your questions for later, once we’re out.” With that, he lifted Peanut onto his back and started running. The rest of us dashed after them. I couldn’t help but glance back, only to see the enormous spider’s head vanish into the flames. That made me even more anxious, fearing it might suddenly reappear ahead of us.

Yet, it seemed my fears were unfounded. We made it to the exit of that room without the giant spider showing itself again.

Once outside, everyone was utterly exhausted. The porter had regained consciousness, and the others were helping him remove the spider silk from his body. I quickly turned to Peanut and asked, “Are you okay?”

Peanut forced a wry smile. “That spider seems to be completely poisonous. I only touched it a few times and already felt weak in my limbs. Lucky for me, I survived—after a bit of rest, I should be fine.”

Relief washed over me; at least this time I hadn’t made a fatal blunder. If anyone had died just now, I’d never have forgiven myself.

Only then did I take in our surroundings, and I was stunned. We were now in a corridor about fifty meters long. Aside from the door we’d just exited, there were three other black doors in the distance, likely other entrances. My second uncle and Old Tan must be behind one of them. What truly amazed me, though, was the broad waterfall above the corridor. Water surged down, forming a curtain at the front end of the passage.

I quickly asked Qin Feng, “Where are Second Uncle and the others?”

“They’re still inside the door near us,” he replied.

“Are they in danger too?” My nerves, just calmed, tensed up again.

One of the porters spoke up, “I just tried to go in, but your second uncle shouted from within, telling us to stay back. He said it’s a maze inside, and if we went in, it’d be even harder to get out. He told us not to worry and that they’d be out soon.”

I immediately went to the door. “Second Uncle! How are you all doing in there?”

After a moment, Second Uncle’s voice came through, “We’re fine, Yuanzi. Are you all alright?”

“We’re okay. How about you?”

Then Old Dullard’s voice called out, “We haven’t found our way out yet, but don’t worry. Apart from being a maze, there’s nothing else dangerous here.”

“Still, be careful,” I said.

Second Uncle added, “Yuanzi, don’t just wait by the door. Hurry up and go rescue your father.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry. We’re well supplied—no way we’ll starve in less than a month. Your father can’t afford to wait.” Second Uncle was right; the longer we delayed, the greater the risk to my father.

Qin Feng walked over. “Second Uncle, I’ll leave two porters here to keep watch. If anything happens, let them know.”

“Alright, go on then. Who knows what else lies ahead,” Second Uncle replied, urging us not to disturb their search for the maze’s exit.

“Everyone, gather your gear and have some water. We’ll set off again soon,” Qin Feng announced. “Little Tiger, you’re hurt. Stay here with A-Deng and wait for Second Master.”

He had just finished giving instructions when I suddenly exclaimed, “Damn!”

“What’s wrong?” Qin Feng asked.

“I nearly forgot about Old Tan—he’s still stuck inside.” As I spoke, I noticed the two porters who had been first outside grinning.

“You don’t need to worry about your friend,” one of them said, pointing beyond the waterfall. “He’s safer than any of us.”

I was puzzled and shone my flashlight in the direction he indicated. Outside the water curtain, a vague figure was standing there.

“Old Tan?” I called, dashing through the cascade.

Just as I emerged, the figure turned, and we collided head-on. Both of us rubbed our foreheads, and when I looked up, it really was that old rascal. “Damn, it really is you! How did you get out first?”

Old Tan seemed to have just taken a bath beneath the waterfall, drenched but unhurt. After a moment’s confusion, he recognized me and grabbed me in delight. “Good heavens, it’s you! Brother, you have no idea how miserable it was in there.”

“Alright, alright. How did you get out? What scared you so badly?” I pushed him away.

“What scared me? It’s what I didn’t encounter that terrified me,” Old Tan said, still shaken.

“What do you mean?”

His voice trembled as he explained, “The room I fell into was completely empty, but I kept feeling like the walls and stone pillars around me were moving.”

“Didn’t you have a flashlight? Shine it around and see,” I suggested.

He slapped his thigh, looking close to tears. “A flashlight? None of the lights worked in there—not my flashlight, not my lighter, not even my phone. They were all fine, just wouldn’t turn on in that room.”

“Is that even possible?”

“I could hardly believe it myself, but there it was. I finally heard your voices, but you all took ages to come down. I got scared and clung to a pillar, thinking it might calm me down. I don’t know how, but the pillar didn’t move, and suddenly I heard water. I took a few steps, and there I was—out here. My flashlight and everything started working again. Isn’t that bizarre? Not long after, the two porters showed up and told me to wait outside.”

Old Tan shook his head repeatedly. I was about to tell him what we’d been through, when something behind him caught my eye and left me speechless.

“Heavens above,” I groaned.

At the far end of the corridor was a sheer cliff. The waterfall cascaded down into a pool below, its surface some twenty meters beneath our feet. A chill mist rose, swirling in dreamlike patterns. The pool was vast—remarkable for the heart of a mountain. Yet the only way forward was a white stone bridge.

The sight of that bridge made my heart pound. Mouse was right—if this was the front burial passage, it was incredibly long. Worse still, the entire stone bridge hung unsupported, like a pale snake stretched over the water, its end nowhere in sight.

I couldn’t help cursing, “Damn it, did the builders of this tomb all study liberal arts? Who could possibly walk across a bridge like this?”

Still, the bridge was there, and it seemed to be our only path.

Just then, Peanut, Qin Feng, and the two porters emerged from behind the water curtain. Old Tan tried to throw himself at Peanut, who dodged with a laugh. When everyone saw the view before us, Peanut let out a deep sigh. “I just don’t understand. Why is everything from the ancient Yelang Kingdom always tied to spiders?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Peanut beckoned me to the edge of the bridge. When I bent down to look, I was astonished to see that every stone slab of the bridge was cracked. The only reason it still spanned the pool was that countless spiderwebs wrapped around it, just like the ones outside the city wall. They now formed a transparent film holding the bridge together.

The porters asked if it was safe to cross.

Old Tan replied, “You saw for yourselves on the way here—those webs are strong as steel.”

After he spoke, the two porters and Qin Feng exchanged glances. I could tell they didn’t know what we’d been through, so I explained our ordeal. It turned out my second uncle’s team was far more professional than we were. They had used modular steel pipes to build a bridge over the moat and crossed in less than half an hour.

“Since you guys made it, all these webs together should be safe. I’ll go first,” Qin Feng volunteered.

Peanut chuckled. “I’m surprised you’re not fighting for such an honor.” As he spoke, his eyes stayed fixed on the pool below, not on us.

We all took his words as a joke. Qin Feng replied, “An honor? Doesn’t matter—I’ll enjoy it this once.”

Everyone knew the first to go was the most at risk, or at least bore the heaviest psychological burden. Qin Feng stepped onto the bridge, testing it with a few stomps. Satisfied it was stable, he began to walk across, neither fast nor slow, all of us watching tensely. Despite some swaying, the bridge held firm. When he’d gone partway, he set down a large lamp, illuminating the path ahead. I could vaguely make out a cave at the far end of the bridge—it seemed the burial passage continued inside.

In less than twenty minutes, Qin Feng had crossed the entire bridge. Waving from the other side, he called out, “Don’t worry, the bridge is solid. Everyone, come across quickly.”