We returned to the Divine Tree Platform, stopping right at the cliff’s edge.

  The mountain wind was hot.

  Not warm—hot—thick with sulfur, stinging the throat, rolling up from scorched earth that hadn’t yet cooled.

  We’d seen plenty of strange signs along the way, but none of us dared to speak the conclusion forming in our minds.

  Lian stood with his hands behind his back, face set and unreadable.

  Mu said nothing. Doubt flickered faintly behind his calm eyes.

  Even Hua—who could usually flirt through a thunderstorm—had his fan closed for once. He tapped the ribs against his palm.

  “This anomaly might not be demonic,” he said, “but if it’s really the earth veins swelling and the springs clogging up… the four of us might not be enough to hold the mountain down.”

  Silence fell. The wind hissed through the scorched ground, dragging up pale threads of sulfur smoke that clawed their way into my lungs.

  Night deepened, but the air refused to cool. The mountain wind still carried the burnt-metal tang of brimstone.

  I sat under the eaves on a slanted slab of green stone, hugging my empty bottle of mosquito balm like it was fine liquor. One leg hooked lazily on the table.

  Before me sat a bowl of cold tea—two withered osmanthus petals floating on top, like they were holding a tiny memorial service for me.

  Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “System,” I muttered, “show yourself.”

  A familiar, insufferable voice chimed right into my skull.

  【Main Quest: “Divine Tree Fire-Sealing: The Final Anomaly” detected. Host may now choose to withdraw or fully engage.】

  My eyes lit up.

  “Withdraw? You can do that? Explain it properly, hell, write me an escape manual and I’ll copy it three times by hand to honor your ancestors.”

  【Available Paths as follows:】

  【Option One】 Stay and assist Mu in performing the Three-Day Fire-Sealing Ritual—involving bathing, incense offerings, and continuous watch over the Divine Tree Platform.

  Pros: Honored by local tradition, easy to gain trust, stable completion rate.

  Cons: Time-consuming, cannot be interrupted. You will be registered as a “Blessed Participant” and may be summoned again for future annual ceremonies.

  I shivered. Hard pass.

  【Option Two】 Cooperate with the Blood Lotus Sect Master and his second-in-command (read: Lian and Hua) to investigate and neutralize the geological anomaly by adjusting the heat veins directly.

  Pros: Permanent solution. Successful completion will end the annual ritual entirely, removing host’s name from the sacrificial record.

  Cons: High risk. Failure may trigger mountain collapse or spontaneous combustion.

  I hissed through my teeth. Tempting—but I like being alive.

  【Option Three】 Sneak off during the night under the excuse of “taking a walk.”

  Pros: Quick, easy, minimal brain use. Very on-brand for you.

  Cons: If caught, triggers “Dragged Back for Forced Worship” side quest. Future quests +10% difficulty. Reputation –20%.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  I was this close to choosing three. Already had the excuse lined up:

  Fate has destined me to be a walking fan in the wind—let me blow away in peace!

  But before I could act, Lian turned calmly to Mu.

  “We’ll help you.”

  Me: “…”

  “Wait, what?!”

  I shot to my feet, nearly dumping my cold tea.

  Lian looked up at me, his expression perfectly calm, as if he hadn’t just signed my death certificate.

  “I said we’ll help Shenmu Village locate and eliminate the source.”

  I stared at him.

  “Do you realize that’s not fixing a mirror or digging a pit? That’s tinkering with volcanic plumbing!”

  Hua leaned lazily against a pillar, smiling way too much for someone about to die.

  “Aww, what’s wrong? Our divine little lord scared?”

  I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out. But before I could curse him out—

  【Notice: Option Two has been manually activated by “Bound Character: Blood Lotus Sect Master.” Current route locked. Escape path terminated.】

  I looked up at the night sky, tears forming.

  “You’re forcing me to become a dwarf working in the mines.”

  Lian was already on his feet.

  “To end this anomaly, we find the heat vein’s source first. Come.”

  The Next Morning

  The four of us followed the mountain trail, tracing the wells, vents, and fissures. Mu came with us—expression complicated, caught between awe and existential crisis.

  “This… actually follows a natural pattern?”

  “The heat rises, the air reverses, the water flows backward—no prayer needed, only terrain?”

  “Then… there are methods beyond the ancestral rites?”

  Meanwhile, my contribution was vital: carrying water, holding snacks, and delivering dramatic commentary like—

  “Ah! Hot!”

  “This slope is ridiculous!”

  “I’m done. Bury me here.”

  Completely useless, but excellent for pacing.

  By evening, we gathered around a yellowed old topographic map behind the Divine Tree Platform. Mu spread it out, his expression grave.

  “This map was left by our founder twenty years ago. It marks seven springs, six veins, and nine fissures. Three are blocked. Two dried up.”

  Lian studied the map.

  “When the wells turn murky and the fire veins surge, it’s often due to reversed southern winds. The heat gets trapped and pushes upward.”

  I was munching on pear blossom cakes, crumbs on my sleeves.

  “So… we just give the heat another way out?”

  Hua shrugged.

  “If the fire can vent itself, there’s no disaster.”

  Mu nodded, pointing to a red-circled mark on the map.

  “Here—under the northern cliff—there used to be a cold spring. Its water was said to suppress the mountain’s temper. But it’s gone dormant.”

  I leaned over. The mark was faded, with messy side notes scribbled in haste: Spring shrink. Heat rise. Do not abandon.

  Lian’s voice dropped.

  “Then this spring isn’t a vent—it’s the anchor.”

  “You mean…” I slapped my thigh, “the steam isn’t coming from it—it’s supposed to seal it? And now it’s clogged, the fire’s pushing up from below?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So… we dig the well, clear the spring, and cut the fire?”

  Hua smirked.

  “Unless you’d rather be the mountain’s concubine.”

  I swallowed my cake whole.

  “Dig. Clear. Cut.”

  We stopped before a sunken mound on the southwest slope. Lian crouched, eyes narrowing, and flicked a small copper leaf into a hairline crack.

  It didn’t stop—it rolled twice, then floated up three inches on a puff of white gas.

  “Below here,” Lian murmured, “is the old vein. The heat’s swelling because the cold spring’s sealed off. To stabilize it, we’ll open three vents—redirect the northern water to temper the heat.”

  Mu’s face went pale.

  “This… this is one of our sacred ‘sealed mouths.’ The other is the Divine Tree itself.”

  “The ancestral seal wasn’t wrong,” Lian said softly. “The tree seals the surface, steadies the mountain’s form. The spring cools its bones. Both must breathe.”

  He straightened, gaze drifting over the smoking ridge.

  “Thirty years ago, when lightning struck this place, that was the first surge. The rituals only calmed the surface. But once the spring was blocked, the heart of the mountain stayed restless.”

  Mu stood silent for a long while, then finally nodded.

  “Then we do it your way.”

  I whispered to the System,

  “If this actually works, do I get to go home?”

  【Quest Branch Updated: “End of the Annual Offering / Blessed Name Erased.” Current success rate: 42%.】

  “Can’t you say something encouraging?”

  【Encouragement: At least you’re not tied up with red string on the altar.】

  “…”

  The Day After

  We reached the sealed spring at dawn. The vent was buried under fallen rocks, breathing out a thin line of sulfur smoke.

  Mu drew his blade and started clearing stones. Lian redirected the wind, Hua enjoyed a dessert while “measuring the veins,” and I—

  “Why am I carrying all the tools again?”

  “You’re the Blessed One,” all three said at once.

  “That’s not how blessing works!”