Chapter Ninety-Seven: The Mechanism Lock

“This place is way too creepy, isn’t it?” Zhang Hu looked at the sinister temple before them and couldn’t help but shiver.

“Enough chatter. Get out of the car.” Qin Feng pushed open the door and stepped out first.

Yang Tianchen followed in silence, close on Qin Feng’s heels, while Zhang Hu lingered by the car, clearly reluctant.

“Feng, are we really going in? This place looks anything but clean!” Zhang Hu’s voice was trembling.

“What’s there to be afraid of? I’m here, aren’t I?” Qin Feng shot him a glare. “If you keep whining, you can go back by yourself!”

Terrified, Zhang Hu shrank back his neck and quickly followed.

As Qin Feng entered the temple, a wave of decay assaulted his senses. The walls were mottled with moss, and thick dust coated the floor. Only a few rats scurried in the corners, making the place seem all the more deserted.

“Do you really think this could be Qianlong’s treasure site?” Zhang Hu whispered.

Qin Feng ignored him, instead carefully surveying his surroundings. Although the temple looked abandoned for ages, there were some messy footprints on the ground—fresh ones, left only a few days ago.

The three of them traced the disordered prints through the ruined main hall, past several withered locust trees, and finally to the temple’s backyard.

“Feng, what do you think those people were doing here? Out in the wilderness like this, it’s not like they’re here to pray,” Zhang Hu muttered as he walked.

“You know nothing. This is what they call hiding in plain sight. The more inconspicuous a place looks, the more likely it hides a secret,” Qin Feng replied without looking back, his gaze fixed on a dry well in the yard.

The well had clearly been abandoned for years, its mouth sealed tightly by a massive slab of bluestone. The surface of the stone was uneven, engraved with strange patterns—some mysterious symbols that looked especially eerie in the dim light.

Zhang Hu, now intrigued, hurried over. Gesturing eagerly, he said, “Feng, do you think there’s treasure in this well? Maybe we’ll strike it rich this time!” Rubbing his hands together, he rolled up his sleeves, about to move the stone.

“Don’t touch it!” Qin Feng barked, stopping him immediately.

Startled, Zhang Hu asked, “What’s wrong, Feng?”

Qin Feng didn’t answer right away. He stepped closer, studying the carvings on the stone slab. Though the patterns seemed random, Qin Feng sensed a trace of familiarity in their apparent disorder.

“This is… a mechanism lock?” Qin Feng muttered, his brows furrowed.

From the teachings of Master Tongbao, he had learned a thing or two about strange mechanisms and formations. This stone slab was clearly an ingenious mechanism lock—careless handling could easily trigger a deadly trap.

“A mechanism lock? Feng, don’t scare me!”

Zhang Hu’s face went pale. He backed away hastily.

Yang Tianchen stepped forward to examine the carvings as well, but after a long look, could make no sense of them.

“Feng, can you open it?” he asked, turning to Qin Feng.

Qin Feng simply nodded. He closed his eyes, recalling everything he knew about mechanism puzzles and formations. After a moment, he opened his eyes, a glint of understanding within them.

“I remember now. This is a ‘Nine Palaces Eight Trigrams Lock.’ It can only be opened in a specific sequence,” he said quietly.

“Nine Palaces Eight Trigrams Lock?” Zhang Hu was thoroughly confused. “So how do we figure out the order?”

Qin Feng ignored him and began searching the temple for clues. He was certain that where there was a mechanism lock, there would be a way to open it.

The three of them scoured every corner of the dilapidated temple. At last, Qin Feng found a clue on a faded mural. The mural was so ancient it was barely discernible, but he could just make out figures and animals.

He recognized at a glance that the mural depicted the legendary “Diagram of Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams.”

“I found it!” Qin Feng’s eyes lit up as he pointed at the mural. “This holds the secret to unlocking the mechanism!”

Narrowing his eyes, he carefully traced the indistinct figures with his finger, as if feeling the very passage of history.

“Heaven—three unbroken lines. Earth—six broken. Thunder—upright bowl. Mountain—inverted bowl…”

He murmured to himself, matching the diagram with his knowledge of mechanism formations, gradually deducing the unlocking sequence.

“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, pointing to a part of the mural. “The stone slab should be rotated in the order of ‘Gate of Life,’ ‘Gate of Scene,’ and ‘Gate of Obstruction.’”

“Gate of Life? Gate of Scene? Gate of Obstruction? What does any of that mean?” Zhang Hu felt as if he were listening to a foreign language.

“Stop talking and just follow instructions,” Yang Tianchen hissed.

Ignoring their exchange, Qin Feng took a deep breath, placed his palm on the cold stone, and began to turn it according to the sequence in his mind.

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of intricate mechanisms echoed from the depths of the well, unnervingly clear in the silent night.

Zhang Hu and Yang Tianchen watched Qin Feng anxiously, not daring to breathe too loudly for fear of distracting him.

Finally, after the third rotation, the stone slab gave a thunderous rumble, and the well’s mouth began to tremble.

A wave of cold, damp air surged upward, chilling them to the bone.

“It’s open! The mechanism is open!” Zhang Hu shouted excitedly, though his voice still quivered.

Qin Feng said nothing, shining his flashlight into the well.

Below, a pitch-black hole yawned—bottomless, like a monstrous beast waiting to devour them, exuding a terrifying, suffocating presence.

“What… what could be down there?” Zhang Hu’s voice shook, plainly frightened by the sight.

“We’ll only know if we go down and look,” Yang Tianchen replied calmly, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

Qin Feng didn’t speak. He handed the flashlight to Yang Tianchen, pulled a rope from his backpack, and secured it to a sturdy tree by the well.

“I’ll go down first. You two wait up here.”

Without waiting for a reply, he gripped the rope and began his descent along the well wall.