YAY!

I took the Ghost Seal, and he said, "Take this to the Bronze door, and it will open. Ten years later, if you still remember me, you can take this with you to open that Bronze door. You might even see me in there."

"You broke your hand saving me. If your final plan fails because of this, I can't bear it, so I have to go with you." He said, "Then I'll still use the method I mentioned last night." "Fine, do whatever you want. If you really knock me unconscious, I have nothing to say. But I want you to know that if you need someone to accompany you to the end, I won't refuse." I said, "I'm going with you; this is my own decision, so don't worry about it."

I couldn't hold my breath any longer. I started breathing, but each inhale brought a mouthful of icy shards to my nose. There are two major differences between being in snow and in water: snow isn't solid; it has countless tiny spaces filled with air. I twisted my head, compressing a small space, and immediately took a few breaths. Although I felt less suffocated, my chest still felt extremely tight, and I was dizzy. Just when I was almost in despair, I suddenly heard movement outside. Then, my frantic flailing hands were grabbed, and I was pulled out of the snowdrift. Gasping for breath, I saw that the Silent One had grabbed me by the back of my collar and forcefully pulled me out of the snow. My vision was still entirely pink and blurry. I looked at him, furious, and asked, "Why are you back again?" He looked at me, then at the cliff above, and said, "I heard your cries for help." Sound travel is excellent in snow, and given that I was upwind, it wasn't surprising that he could hear my cries. I thought to myself, "Damn, I must have been cursing your ancestors!" I got up, squinted at my surroundings, and immediately realized he must have jumped from a height of thirty meters. I couldn't help but feel a little moved.

“I have to go back to where I should go,” he said. “Where should you go? Is it far?” I asked him. He picked up his chopsticks, silently took a bite of food, and nodded... “So you came here to…” I rarely had such a serious conversation with him, and felt particularly awkward, so I could only ask casually, going along with his words. “I came to say goodbye to you,” he said. “It’s all over now. I’ve thought about my relationship with this world, and it seems that the only thing I can find now is you.” ”我想了想我和这个世界的关系，似乎现在能找到的，只有你了。”

Just then, Pangzi cried out and slid off the log bridge. He barely managed to regain his balance, but his hand still touched a silk thread. A very slight vibration began to travel along the thread, and the nearest bell started to tremble. Instantly, I saw the Xiaoge's hand reach out from near my mouth, and two unusually long fingers, with incredible speed and stability, clamped down on the bell. The thread instantly stabilized, and I broke out in a cold sweat. Xiaoge slowly released his grip and whispered, "Continue, don't stop."

"This corpse's hair is so long?" I asked. The hair was so long it covered a large portion of the corpse. Pangzi took a deep breath, feigning composure, and said, "People in ancient times always had very long hair, the so-called 'long, flowing hair,' or 'disheveled hair.' Haven't you seen in many period dramas that prisoners all have disheveled hair? They could all be in a Vidal Sassoon advertisement."

Pangzi: ”家有一哥，如有一宝啊！”

“He first weakened himself to the point of falling into deep coma. His heartbeat was weak, resulting in very low blood pressure. He wrapped himself tightly in clothes to minimize skin contact with air, hoping to reduce the severity of the poisoning. Out of everyone, he had the lowest level of poisoning, which must be why.” “How did he weaken himself like that?” I asked. “By telling yourself, ‘I’m so weak, so weak’? Don't you feel like slapping yourself after hearing that? Could you really make yourself become like that?” “You wouldn't understand,” Pangzi pointed to Xiaoge’s hand, turning his hand over for me to see. I saw wounds on both of Xiaoge’s wrists. “To weaken someone, just bleed them. Xiaoge is definitely much more knowledgeable about bloodletting than we are.”

"What do you think it looks like?" I asked him after looking at it for a while. He seemed to have a clue, but couldn't quite grasp the details, just mumbling "uh-huh…" for a long time. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. I looked up. He gestured and said, "A sword, a sword, the Black Gold Ancient Sword!" I also gestured, constantly imagining the image of that unfortunate weapon. Slowly, I started sweating profusely. "It is indeed the Black Gold Ancient Sword, the length and width are quite similar," I said. "Holy crap! Could this thing be mass-produced? Does every member of the Zhang family have one?" I pictured a long line of Zhang Qilings carrying Black Gold Ancient Swords, marching in formation—it was terrifying, but also quite imposing. "There can't possibly be that many Black Gold Ancient Swords. If China had such forging technology in ancient times, it would have conquered the world long ago," Pangzi said. "Xiaoge's Black Gold Ancient Sword is an extremely finely crafted and perfectly forged sword. As I mentioned, it's difficult to lift with both hands. This kind of sword must have been forged by the most skilled swordsmiths of ancient times. Not to mention the difficulty in obtaining the materials, forging the blade to be perfect and making it so heavy, it's definitely not a traditional technique; it might take hundreds of attempts to succeed once. Therefore, there are probably no more than three of these Black Gold Ancient Swords on the market."