The iron bars were rusted but still sturdy.
Wu Gou walked to the nearest cell and peered inside.
Inside the cell was a stone bed, and on it lay a perfectly arranged skeleton.
The skeleton was burnt black, completely carbonized, and seemed to have weathered for a long time; a slight touch would crumble it into dust.
But the body was arranged neatly, hands clasped over its chest, legs together, as if peacefully sleeping.
Wu Gou's gaze fell on the head of the bed.
Two words were carved there.
“Yan San.”
The carving was fresh, as if recently made.
Wu Gou turned to another cell, where a similarly charred skeleton lay neatly on a stone bed, also with a name carved.
“Huo Qi.”
He moved on.
“Chai Jiu.”
“Tan Shi’er.”
Wu Gou observed each cell; they were all the same: charred skeletons, neatly arranged, with names carved at the head of the bed.
The names were all strange, like serial numbers or codenames.
Wu Gou knelt down to examine one of the skeletons closely.
Although badly burned, some features were still discernible.
Behind this skeleton was a pair of thin wing cases, now burnt to mere remnants.
The Mingchan clan.
Why were there Mingchan clan skeletons here?
He stood up and continued through the cells, finding not only Mingchan clan but also plant demon tribes, beast tribes with curled horns, and skeletons clearly belonging to insect races.
All races were present, mixed together.
But they all shared one thing: they had all been burned to death.
Wu Gou stopped before one cell.
This cell was different from the others; two skeletons, one large and one small, lay on the stone bed.
The smaller one was curled in the embrace of the larger, as if seeking protection even in death.
Two words were carved at the head of the bed.
“Yan Mu.”
Beside it was another line of small, shaky writing, as if penned while trembling.
“I’m sorry.”
Wu Gou was silent for a moment, then clasped his hands together and softly recited a Buddhist chant.
Then he turned and continued downwards.
Underground Level Two.
The layout here was similar to Level One, with countless densely packed cells and rows of charred skeletons.
But there was something extra on the walls.
Wu Gou approached a stone wall and touched it; the wall was covered in carved 'zheng' characters.
They were densely packed, layered upon layered; some were blurred, others still clear.
Wu Gou walked along the stone wall for dozens of zhang, and the 'zheng' characters on the wall never ceased.
He turned to another wall, also covered in 'zheng' characters; the entire level of the prison had these counting symbols everywhere on its walls.
Wu Gou stood before the wall, looking at the densely packed 'zheng' characters, and suddenly understood something.
Someone was counting.
Counting what?
Time?
He circled Level Two again, found no other clues, and continued downwards.
Underground Level Three.
The temperature was even higher.
The surrounding air became dry and scorching, like being inside a giant oven.
The walls were still covered in densely packed 'zheng' characters.
But in the cells on this level, the skeletons were noticeably fewer.
Many cells were empty, with only a few still containing charred remains.
Wu Gou noticed that the skeletons on this level were not arranged as neatly as those on the previous two levels.
Some were slumped by the bed, some curled in corners, and some even lay prostrate on the ground, as if trying to crawl out before death.
Names were still carved at the head of the beds.
But these names were no longer as orderly as those on the first two levels.
Some were crooked, some carved very deep as if with all their might, and some were even carved and then scratched out, only to be re-carved.
Wu Gou stopped before one cell.
The head of the bed in this cell had no name, only a single sentence carved into it.
“I really want to go home.”
Underground Level Four.
The temperature was already so high that ordinary people couldn't bear it; the air was scorching, each breath like swallowing fire.
Wu Gou found it strange; such intense heat was unusual. They were still far from the earth's core, so why was the temperature so scorching?
After a quick scan, finding nothing special, Wu Gou continued downwards.
Underground Level Five. Underground Level Six. Underground Level Seven.
As Wu Gou poked his head out of the passage, a terrifying heatwave assaulted him.
The surrounding stone walls were burnt crystal clear, like black glass, reflecting faint firelight.
In the very center was a massive ball of fire, intensely hot, and radiating terrifying pressure.
Within the flames, a figure was faintly visible.
Wu Gou squinted, looking closely.
It was a woman.
She wore a red dress, its hem gently swaying in the flames as if alive.
She had a delicate, exquisitely beautiful face, skin like snow, and eyes like a painting.
But half of her body was completely festering and charred black, revealing burnt muscle and bone beneath.
She was carrying a charred black body, walking step by step towards a cell.
The cell door was open, and inside was a stone bed.
She gently placed the body on the bed, her movements very careful, as if handling fragile porcelain.
Then she extended her hand, a tiny wisp of flame igniting at her fingertip. The flame landed on the body's chest, quickly spreading to cover the entire corpse.
The body trembled slightly in the flames, then slowly stilled, completely carbonizing into a charred skeleton.
The woman knelt, straightened the skeleton, clasped its hands over its chest, and brought its legs together.
Then she stood up and walked to the head of the bed.
She reached out and, with her fingertip, meticulously carved two words into the stone wall at the head of the bed, stroke by stroke.
“Huo Jiu.”
After carving, she stepped back two paces, looked at the two words, and a faint, gentle smile appeared on her face.
“There,” she said softly. “You have a name now.”
She stood there, looking at the two words for a long time.
Then she spoke, her voice very soft.
“From now on, you’ll be called Huo Jiu.”
“Can you talk with me?”
The surroundings were silent, save for the faint crackling of flames.
The woman waited for a while, but received no response.
She lowered her head and sighed.
“Still unwilling to speak to me.”
She turned, walked a few steps, then suddenly stopped again.
She looked up, towards the ceiling.
There was nothing there but dark rock formations.
But she looked as if she saw something, a longing expression on her face.
“It seems to be raining outside today.”
“Do you know what rain is?”
“I saw it once before.”
“A long, long time ago, when I was still up there.”
“Back then, I was young and understood nothing, only knowing to hide when it rained.”
“But now that I think about it, rain is truly wonderful.”
“Cool, wet, and so comfortable when it hits your face.”
As she spoke, she raised her hand as if to catch rain.
But above her was only rock, nothing else.
Her hand hung in mid-air for a moment, then slowly lowered.
“Although I can’t see it, I smell a very fresh scent.”
She said softly, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned.
“A scent completely different from here.”
“So pure, so fragrant, without any other strange odors. That must be the rain that cleanses all things, right?”
Rate on N.U.
