Supreme Alchemist-Chapter 2443 - 2433 Hand Note

In fact, Long Yan’s suspicion is not without reason. Generally, the Law Protectors and Guardians have a number, which usually secretly adds up to eighteen. Previously, when he couldn’t open the door, it was not an issue, but when he opened the door himself, it was already far more than the number eighteen.

As for those wearing blue clothes, aside from the little monk who initially wanted to kill him, he hadn’t seen almost anyone else in blue robes.

Surely the little monk who tried to kill him before can’t be the only blue-robed monk in this temple, right? Have the others all attained enlightenment and ascended to become immortals due to the spiritual strength of Buddhism?

Obviously, that’s not very realistic. Long Yan slowly retreated from the room. Everywhere in this temple exuded an odd feeling, starting from the little monk who had already turned into an evil spirit and the plethora of yellow monk’s robes, none of which seemed like a normal temple.

Right now, Long Yan decided to continue exploring a bit more. However, as he was walking, he suddenly stopped, instinctively sensing something in front of him. Long Yan moved his torch forward and discovered it was a rare fishing line. How could this thing be here?

Luckily, Long Yan spotted it in time. Had he continued walking at the same speed as just now, he probably would have had his neck slashed by the fishing line. Long Yan reached out to touch the line, its sharpness cutting a small incision into his hand.

The originally hidden fishing line in the dark was adorned with a string of small blood beads. Long Yan took down the line stretched across the corridor; it was smeared with mottled blood stains, clearly having drawn much blood besides his own.

"Who exactly set this up here? This is no joke. Combined with the prior appearance of the little monk, Long Yan already had a plausible explanation in mind, he just wasn’t ready to confirm it yet."

But this thing...

Long Yan carefully observed the fishing line. This particular line seemed different, appearing much sturdier than normal fishing lines. If used in fishing, it could very likely snap a fish in two.

Nonetheless, Long Yan found it uniquely useful. The room that couldn’t be passed before could now be tackled using this fishing line. Long Yan returned to the previous room, wrapping the line around the tail end of a previous feathered arrow.

Normally, feathered arrows are made with two grooves specifically for affixing feathers to prevent wind deviation during flight. Long Yan removed the feathers from these two arrows and wrapped them with thick layers of fishing line, even going so far as to melt the line with a torch to adhere it to the arrows.

After completing all this, Long Yan did the same with another arrow, drawing the bow and aiming at the wall behind him. Though he dared not use excessive force, needing only to ensure the arrows stayed put, given the age of the wooden bow, Long Yan feared that one forceful pull might break it apart.

Finally, after firing the last feathered arrow, the wooden bow was considered completely done for as the bowstring snapped in two. Long Yan refrained from touching it and instead leapt, landing entirely on the fishing line. As the fishing line was sharper than he expected, Long Yan only placed the tips of his toes on it.

In one fell swoop, Long Yan flew across to the other side from the fishing line. While his True Qi was sealed, Long Yan still found a good way to get across.

Just now, due to only seeing this place by torchlight, the scene was unclear. Only after reaching the other side did Long Yan see the sight, which almost made even someone with his mental fortitude want to vomit — it was beyond what words like ’filthy’ could describe.

The floor was covered with fresh blood, not the dried kind. When Long Yan stepped on it, it was still sticky, as if something had been thrown from over there, splattering against the wall and scattering everywhere.

Among the smashed flesh were bits of bone, with human organs faintly visible. Long Yan felt a retch rising in his throat, but as a person used to large-scale horrors, he forced it down. Yet judging from the bloodstains, the person hadn’t been dead long, meaning there might be another living person besides Long Yan here?

But soon, Long Yan got discouraged, for if there were living people, wouldn’t they have heard any commotion? Even more so, it seemed whoever could exert such a horrifying power enough to slam someone like this would need at least the power of a Divine Emperor fifth stage, strength that Long Yan himself surely lacked, much less that he sensed traces of True Qi around, meaning the deceased must have some cultivation base.

After a cultivator dies, the power within their body dissipates, returning to nature. That’s why Long Yan was so sure the dead person was a cultivator.

Holding his nose against the overpowering stench, Long Yan rummaged through the cabinet, as his goal was to find a clue to exit. Surprisingly, he found a monk’s hand note in a bedside cabinet:

I’ve lost track of time. Can I even survive? Why has Junior Brother Shiran become this way? This hand note should serve as proof that I lived once, right? Junior Brother Shiran’s footsteps are coming, maybe it’s my turn to serve the Buddha in the Western Heaven this time.

The handwriting suddenly breaks off here, as if interrupted, followed by a dried blood handprint. Judging by the yellowed paper, this hand note must be quite old, probably alluding to why this temple fell to its current state?

Long Yan casually put down the hand note. While it was a clue, it was incomplete; the truth remained elusive, not mentioning any way to leave here.

Then Long Yan started searching again in that area, opening the cabinet just like before, where a blue and a yellow monk’s robe were neatly placed in a solid wood cabinet. The wooden board on the side was already highly weathered; with Long Yan now there, it could almost be said that the board was on the verge of collapsing, and just standing there made it start showing signs of breaking apart.

In a flurry, Long Yan wanted to leave but noticed the arrangement inside the cabinet differed slightly from before. All other robes were laid flat, yet in this cabinet, they were stacked together. As the saying goes, "when something unusual happens, there must be a demon." Long Yan decided to double-check.

However, the terrain here didn’t allow him much chance to search carefully. Gradually, the wooden floor began collapsing from the edges, leaving hardly half a room to stand on. This search had cost Long Yan a long time, and if he were to descend now, he might not make it back to the fishing line.

In this race against time, Long Yan gritted his teeth hard and jumped down from the fishing line, landing squarely in front of the wooden cabinet. Time was pressing, and Long Yan only had time to reach into the two monk’s robes and grab.

But time had run out, and the floor completely collapsed, sending Long Yan, along with the board, plummeting into the abyss below.

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