The Fairy and Ghost Realm of Kunlun Ruins

Wang Ping wiped the rain off his face and looked at the stone statue swallowed up by vines. The forty-year-old knees ached in the rain, reminding him that he was no longer the boy who could climb cliffs with bare hands twenty years ago. The sound of Lao Yan coughing came from behind, mixed with the sound of rain, which seemed particularly harsh in the dark mountain forest. "Brother Ping, is this right here?" Lao Yan put out the cigarette butt in the palm of his hand. Wang Ping had seen this action thousands of times, always before going to the grave. Wang Ping did not answer. The light beam of the flashlight swept across the base of the stone statue, where three ancient seals that he had never seen were engraved, like some kind of warning or some kind of invitation. He remembered the letter he received a month ago. There was only one line on the yellowed rice paper: "Kunlun Ruins, the prince will not die." All four brothers arrived. Lao Yan, the explosives expert in the team, is fifty years old and has terminal lung cancer. This is his last time with the team. Xiaofei, thirty-two years old, is thin and small. He is responsible for drilling holes and has not yet married a wife. The monk is thirty-five years old, taciturn, and extremely powerful. He carries more than a hundred kilograms of equipment on his back like a normal person. There are also glasses. He is twenty-eight years old and has graduated from archeology. He has taught himself all the tomb maps and mechanism maps that he can find. They followed Wang Ping for the longest period of fifteen years and the shortest period of six years. In this business, being able to survive this long is a miracle in itself.