"Just chipped away at it for over thirty years, bit by bit," I said.
"Not so, honored sirs," the old man replied. "In the beginning, it could indeed be built up little by little. But when it came to closing it off, even in the dry season, the force of the water was too great. It took over a year, and they still couldn't complete the closure. In the end, they had to invite several powerful mountain spirits, and a hundred children were sacrificed before the closure could be made!"
"...How cruel?" Bingbing shivered involuntarily.
"However, u1 says that those mountain spirits were quite benevolent and didn't eat the hundred children. They raised them in the mountains, taught them skills, and eventually let them go," the old man chuckled.
"That must have been the Baize spirit clan!" Bingbing stated with certainty.
The old man nodded. "Precisely."
I remained silent, instead observing the changes in the aura of the giant catfish beneath us. She showed no reaction, indicating she was likely also of the Baize spirit clan. If she were from the Xingshan spirit clan, she would have shown some emotional fluctuation upon hearing this.
The closer we got to the dam, the more turbulent the water became. Even the giant catfish struggled to swim. I had to have her pull ashore. The four of us disembarked and walked for half a li, reaching the side of the dam.
Both banks of the dam were steep mountain slopes, exceeding a 60-degree incline. I worried about the old man's frailty and didn't want him to climb, but he insisted, fearing we wouldn't find the exact location of the pump room.
I tied a rope around my waist and the old man's, to prevent him from falling. The old man was deeply moved and snapped off two branches, giving one to each of us to use as walking sticks.
Bingbing, a former rock climber, found this slope as easy as level ground. The cavalry captain's physical condition was also excellent. They scouted ahead, searching for the best climbing route, and soon led us to the top of the dam.
The dam was indeed sturdy, no wonder it had stood for four hundred years without issue. Its width was ample, enough to build several standard football fields on it. Furthermore, for some reason, the top wasn't flat but covered in soil (clearly man-made). Over four hundred years, it had formed a small forest, blending with the trees on the surrounding mountains. If there wasn't water on both the upstream and downstream sides, one would immediately recognize it as a dam. To an outsider, it would appear to be a naturally formed bridge.
The old man was right. Once we entered the dam, we lost our bearings in the dense, canopy-obscuring forest. The labyrinthine paths were littered with animal tracks, droppings, and even skeletal remains. It seemed many land creatures mistook this dam for a bridge.
The old man mentioned that within a hundred-li radius, this was the only place one could cross the river by land; other sections required boat ferries.
Without the old man's guidance, we would have struggled to find the pump room hidden within the woods. The pump room was only about the size of a single room, its outer walls covered in moss. At first glance, it resembled a dilapidated public toilet.
The lock on the door was severely corroded, merely hanging there, not secured. It was likely opened by local villagers attempting to release water for drought relief after the facility was abandoned.
The cavalry captain, worried about potential dangers inside, removed the lock and, gun in hand, rushed in first.
Before we could follow, a sputtering sound echoed from within. I quickly activated my spiritual sense, but saw nothing. I only observed the cavalry captain quickly walking out.
Soon, the captain ran out, signaling us to fall back.
"Old Wang, what did you shoot at?" I asked. I had learned his name was Wang Shoujie in Wusancheng; before that, I had always called him "Captain."
"Didn't get a clear look, seemed like a monster. You guys hide behind that rock, I'll handle them!" The captain was certainly brave.
The crucial part was that he had great confidence in his firearm!
Bingbing and I helped the old man, taking cover behind a rock near the doorway.
I recalled the scene just before opening the door. The lock was indeed hanging on, and there was a door bolt. This meant it was unlikely someone had deliberately ambushed us inside; it was probably something that had been living in the small house all along.
"Is it large inside?" I asked the old man. My spiritual sense had encountered a barrier. I sensed that the small house had an underground section, embedded within the dam itself.