Sludge suction system

The wind in the mass grave carried shards of broken jade, brushing against Yuan Xiangya's face, which was covered by a black veil. Behind her followed six constables carrying lanterns; the character "州" (zhou, prefecture) on the lanterns was riddled with holes from blood-stained jade worms, emitting a ghostly green light. Qian Wanguan's jade merchant caravan had passed through this place countless times, but no one had ever dared to stop—until today, when she, as the prefect's wife, forced them to open the third grave in the seventh row.

"Dig." Her voice, filtering through the black veil, was like silk soaked in icy water. The constables exchanged glances, but hesitated to move their shovels. Suddenly, one of them pointed to the crooked tree on the grave mound. Half a blood-jade plaque was nailed to the trunk, the characters "Qian Ji" on the plaque already gnawed into powder, revealing the blurred character "Yan" underneath.

"Madam, this is..."

"Dig it if I tell you to!" Yuan Xiangya flicked her sleeve, and the gilded token given to her by Qian Wanguan struck the coffin, making a hollow sound. The moment the coffin lid was pried open, the smell of decaying jade mixed with the fragrance of lotus flowers rushed out. The skeleton of the sixteenth generation jade beauty, A Yan, lay supine inside, palms facing upwards, and sure enough, half a jade slip with a bluish hue was held between her fingers.

Suddenly, the lanterns went out. The constables cried out and retreated, only to hear Yuan Xiangya's cold laugh: "What are you afraid of? The character '解' on her palm is still lit." Sure enough, the flesh and blood in Ayan's palm were rotting, but a lotus flower painted with the blood of a spirit deer was glowing, with seven dark red blood beads on its petals—the poison that Qian Wanguan had given her last year on this day, hoping for a better official career.

“Take the jade slip.” Yuan Xiangya tore off her black veil, revealing a lotus birthmark on her chest that was pulsating with heartbeats. “Remember, you can only touch the jade slip, not the blood beads.” Before she finished speaking, a sound of bones grinding suddenly came from the grave mound on the left. A corpse covered in jade spots broke out of the ground, with the words “Qian Ji Jade Shop” engraved on a silver bell tied to its wrist.

"It's...it's Manager Zhou!" one of the constables exclaimed. "He disappeared while delivering goods half a year ago, how could he..."

Shopkeeper Zhou's jade-like hand reached for Yuan Xiangya, but emitted a piercing hiss when it touched her birthmark. Suddenly, Ayan's skeleton emitted a glowing blue light, and the jade slip flew into Yuan Xiangya's palm automatically. Only then did she see the map engraved on the back of the jade slip—Wusheng Temple was not on the summit of Kunlun Mountain, but directly below the mass grave, in a lotus platform surrounded by the skeletons of sixteen generations of jade people.

"So Sang Xuan hid the real altar here." She crushed the blood droplet in A Yan's palm, and the droplet bloomed into a real lotus flower as it hit the ground. "Using the jade maiden's blood to nourish the old bones, and then using hatred as bait to lure us in..."

"Madam, be careful!" The constable swung his knife at Manager Zhou, but as the blade flashed, the corpse shattered into thousands of blood-red jade worms, each flying towards Ayan's remains. Yuan Xiangya suddenly remembered Qian Wanguan's words: "Sang Xuan uses their blood and bones to nourish their souls." It turned out that Ayan's "Release" spell had long been sealed by Sang Xuan—anyone who approached would awaken the Gu worms buried in the old bones.

"Ignite the spirit deer blood!" She tossed the leather pouch to the constable, then used a silver hairpin to slash her palm. The blood dripped onto the lotus flower in Ayan's palm, actually forcing the swarm of insects back three feet. The jade slip suddenly resonated, and spiderweb-like cracks appeared in the ground of the mass grave, revealing the faint light of the blood jade altar beneath. On the central stone platform lay sixteen jade skeletons, each with the character "解" (jie, meaning "to resolve") engraved on its palm, which together formed the complete character "玄" (xuan, meaning "mysterious").

"We've been tricked!" Yuan Xiangya shoved the constables away, only to see that Manager Zhou's swarm of insects had already burrowed into their bodies, and blue spots were rapidly spreading down their necks. She gripped the jade slip and rushed toward the crack, hearing the constables' hoarse roars behind her, their voices mixed with Sang Xuan's cold laughter, shattering into dust in the wind and snow: "The Yuan family bloodline is indeed the key to breaking the deadlock... Unfortunately, you've come too late."

Deep within the rift, the Taotie pattern on the Blood Jade Altar was absorbing the swarm of insects. Ayan's skeleton was lifted and suspended in the center, the lotus mantra in her palm gradually transforming into the character "Xuan". Yuan Xiangya stared at the map gradually disappearing on the jade slip and suddenly understood—the true concept of non-birth never existed. Sang Xuan had used the hopes of sixteen generations of jade people to build a cage of old bones, and she was merely the next live bait to be sacrificed.

In the wind and snow, she touched her father's finger bones, only to find them covered in lotus patterns. Suddenly, the finger bones emitted a clear, resonant sound, even cracking the "Xuan" incantation on the altar. Yuan Xiangya smiled, pressing the finger bones into Ayan's palm: "Father, your daughter finally understands. The breaking point wasn't the bloodline, but what you've hidden for three hundred years..."

Before the words were even finished, the mass grave was suddenly illuminated by lotus light. The "Xuan" character incantation on Ayan's remains crumbled inch by inch, revealing the true "Jie" character beneath—a true unspelling incantation written with thirty years' worth of lotus dew, sixteen drops of spirit deer blood, and the entire heart and soul of her father. The swarms of insects within the constables fell to the ground, turning into transparent dewdrops, while the birthmark on Yuan Xiangya's chest blossomed into a lotus flower whiter than snow.

“So pure goodness isn’t about being untouched by blood,” she said, gazing at the light at her fingertips, “it’s about washing away the curse with blood and letting the lotus bloom again.”

In the distance, the sound of Qian Wanguan's horse hooves pierced through the wind and snow. Yuan Xiangya gripped the jade slip tightly. The blood jade altar deep within the crack was collapsing, revealing the true altar carved from lotus stone beneath it—there were no taotie patterns, no blood jade pool, only sixteen jade skeletons holding hands to form a lotus flower, and in the center of each lotus flower, a sealed hope slept.

“Ayan, thank you.” She said softly, placing her father’s finger bone in the center of the lotus. “Now, it’s time for the old bone to see what true non-birth is.”

The wind in the mass grave softened into a gentle caress amidst the lotus's radiance. The instant Yuan Xiangya's fingertip dripped blood towards the center of the altar, the sixteen jade-like skeletons suddenly emitted a buzzing sound. Those wrist bones, once inscribed with the character "Xuan," stretched out in the light, revealing lotus veins outlined in the blood of a spirit deer on their palms. Each petal greedily drank from her blood—not as a sacrifice, but as a reunion after a long drought.

“So the Temple of No Birth was never an altar that devours life…” Her silver hairpin fell to the ground, her black hair cascaded down like an ink waterfall, and the faint incantation on her forehead transformed into the outline of a pale golden lotus flower, “It is built with pure spiritual bones… the Gate of Rebirth.”

The lotus stone carving slowly cracked open amidst the tremors, revealing a lotus seed at its center, enveloped in a blood-red halo. The surface of the seed was covered with the character "解" (jie, meaning "to resolve") carved by jade craftsmen throughout the ages with their fingernails; each mark was seeped with the blood of a long-dried spirit deer, yet the moment Yuan Xiangya's blood touched it, it shone with an icy luster. Suddenly, the lotus birthmark on her chest detached from her skin, transforming into thousands of luminous butterflies that fluttered towards the lotus seed. Their wings reflected the moonlight of the lotus pond three hundred years ago, when her father was still a mute servant humming a Wu song, wiping the sweat from Sang Xuan's brow with a dew-dampened handkerchief.

The sound of rapid hoofbeats echoed from the ground. As Qian Wanguan pushed through the snowstorm, he was stunned into breath by the blue light rising from the earth. He saw Yuan Xiangya's body disintegrate into specks of light. These specks didn't dissipate, but rather, like stars returning to their nests, surged into the "解" (jie, meaning "unravel") mark on the lotus seed's surface. Her plain white undergarment transformed into a transparent cocoon in the light, cradling the lotus seed as she slowly rose into the air. Suddenly, the finger bones of her father, entwined in her hair, emitted a clear, resonant sound, perfectly matching the pulse at the core of the lotus seed.

“Qian Wanguan, look at the light in these lotus seeds.” Her voice mingled with the soft sound of lotus blossoms opening, carrying the purity untouched by pollution three hundred years ago. “It’s not the bloody light of a curse, it’s the hope that Ayan and the others have hidden for three hundred years…”

Suddenly, the lotus seeds burst open, and Yuan Xiangya's figure transformed into sixteen streams of light in the intense light, each flowing into one of the sixteen jade-like skeletons. Qian Wanguan watched helplessly as Shopkeeper Zhou's decaying corpse turned into specks of light and reformed. Pale blue skin grew on Ayan's skeleton, and the "Xuan" character incantation on their wrists was being replaced by lotus veins, each petal's texture matching Yuan Xiangya's birthmark. Meanwhile, his own jade-like skin peeled away piece by piece, revealing the new skin beneath. The lotus pendant lying in his palm emitted a warm glow—it was a token of love that Ayan had carved for him twenty years ago, which he had once discarded at the bottom of a box, deeming it "dead jade without luster."

“The ‘nothingness’ in the concept of non-birth does not mean the absence of birth and death, but rather…” Yuan Xiangya’s voice overflowed from each lotus flower, “no longer using lies to nurture birth and death.”

A sea of ​​lotus light washed over every inch of the mass grave. Qian Wanguan saw all the bones corroded by the blood jade awaken in the light, and the "解" (jie, meaning solution/resolve) characters in their palms were finally pieced together—not the trap carved by Sang Xuan, but a lotus totem formed by sixteen "人" (ren, meaning person) characters. A deafening cracking sound came from the ground, and the Taotie pattern on the blood jade altar peeled away layer by layer like ice and snow meeting the sun, revealing the true face of the stone wall: "With bones as seeds, with blood as dew, a pure world is born."