I stumbled out from under that stone guardian’s axe like a drunk duck on ice, half a breath away from leaving my own funeral instructions on the wall. My entire body ached, and my soul felt like it had been scared right out of its warranty period.
The stone chamber before was dead quiet. Too quiet. The torchlight flickered, stretching the shadows long and warped—like a bunch of pitch-black snakes ready to wrap themselves around my neck.
Holding my breath, I scanned the room. The four walls were bare as a monk’s pocket, nothing suspicious except for a huge mural on the west side.
It depicted a classic “ascension of the soul” scene: a few ancient scholars being escorted skyward by cranes, feet on fluffy clouds, faces solemn and serene. Everything looked perfectly normal—just your regular grave décor.
A few bronze knickknacks lay scattered on the ground: a tiny cauldron, a little pot, a short dagger. Heavy, crude shapes, covered in green rust. Frankly worthless. Any proper tomb robber would take one look, yawn, and move on.
I let out a shaky breath, but my nerves refused to settle.
I had just been through a life-sized version of “don’t-stop-or-die,” chased around by a corpse-powered stone Golem—after solving a literal “matching tiles” death trap right before it. With these kinds of human-body booby traps popping up like weeds, how was I supposed to trust a peaceful room?
I muttered inwardly:
“Yeah right… this place probably put the bronze junk out front just to bait idiots like . Bet that mural’s hiding sothing nasty too. Just wait—I'll get close and one of those painted guys’ll reach out and drag into the wall…”
I forced my eyes wide open, staring at the mural inch by inch like a paranoid owl.
And then—
One of the “ascending scholars” seed to blink.
My heart jumped like soone kicked it from behind. I almost scread right there.
I stared harder. The figure remained exactly as it was—motionless, harmless.
“...Hallucination? Or did my spirit almost bail on again?”
I swallowed, trying to think straight, but the unease wouldn’t let go.
After who knows how long, exhaustion hit like a wave. My eyelids grew heavier and heavier until I finally slumped against the icy stone wall and drifted off.
I didn’t know how long I slept before a faint sound jolted awake.
My eyes opened—and standing right before was Lian.
My heart lurched. Without thinking, I sprang up and lunged toward him.
“Lian! Finally! Do you know what I’ve been through? That damn tomb thing almost got ! Where’s everyone else?”
But Lian only looked at coldly. Not a hint of concern, no urgency, not even mild annoyance—just a faint trace of disdain. For a mont, I thought I saw sothing complicated flicker in his eyes, and the corner of his mouth curled up ever so slightly… but it vanished so fast I wondered if my brain was still booting up.
“You seem awfully excited,” he said. “What, nearly got chopped in half and now you’re happy about it?”
“I—”
My mind stalled.
“What do you an? How could I be happy? I almost died under that stone monster’s axe!”
Lian didn’t answer imdiately. He simply stepped closer, looking over with eyes sharp enough to peel bark off a tree.
“Looks like you’ve figured out nothing,” he said coolly. “After we split, things changed. The others… are gone.”
My stomach dropped.
“Gone? What does that an? Explain!”
Lian stood straight as a spear, hands clasped behind him—calm, distant, with a faint air of superiority that felt very unlike the Lian I knew.
He kept watching , studying whether I would understand the weight of what he was about to say.
“After you passed out, we clashed with those grey-clad thieves again. The tomb corridors are full of traps. Most of them are probably dead. Hua and I tried to reach you, but we hit a fork in the path. I lost sight of Hua, and when I circled back, I found you lying here.”
His tone was flat, emotionless.
I felt sweat trickle down my back.
“Huh? Then what about Hua? Don’t tell … he’s really dead?”
Lian shook his head—unconcerned, almost indifferent.
“His fate is unknown.”
Sothing about that didn’t sit right. Lian was sharp as an Alpha Wolf and fiercely protective of his own—he would never speak so casually about Hua’s disappearance.
But my body hurt everywhere, and my head felt stuffed with cotton. I couldn’t think straight.
All I knew was: after nearly dying three tis in one afternoon, seeing a familiar face felt like a miracle.
“Hah… thank heavens! If I stayed alone in this haunted pit any longer, I’d probably get scared into a heart attack!”
Lian’s eyes were icy, the corner of his lips curling up slightly.
“You’ve always been a coward.”
He paused, as though unwilling to linger on the topic.
“Just stay close and stop running around.”
I stared at him, unease clawing at my gut.
“What’s that supposed to an? What exactly are you planning?”
Lian didn’t answer . Instead, he lowered his gaze to an old jade piece in his hand, frowning.
“There’s too much you don’t understand. Don’t worry—I have my own plans for this tomb.”
He let out a cold laugh, the edge in his eyes sharp enough to peel skin.
“If you truly had any sense, you wouldn’t be asking so many questions. Now move. Follow .”
I swallowed hard, but my doubts only deepened.
Lian walked ahead of , his back rigid, his entire bearing distant—as though I wasn’t even worth noticing.
The longer I watched him, the stranger I felt.
After a few steps, sothing inside jolted—
No. Sothing was wrong.
The way he walked—his posture, his usual proud aura… it didn’t match. Sothing was off. Terribly off.
Before I even realized what I was doing, I let out a low growl and hurled myself at him.
“Down, you fraud!”
“Bang—!”
We crashed to the ground, dust exploding around us. I pinned him beneath , fingers clamped around his throat so tightly my knuckles turned white.
Veins bulged on my forehead as I ground out through clenched teeth,
“You… this Lian… you’re not right. No matter how well you imitate him, I can still tell—you’re fake!”
For a heartbeat, even I was shocked at myself. My blood surged hot, my vision tinged red, and I felt an overwhelming urge to crush whatever lay beneath my hands.
At first, he only stared back at , eyes wide in disbelief. But soon, the whites of his eyes flushed red, bloodshot threads creeping outward like cracks on porcelain.
“Crkk—crk—”
The noise coming from his throat wasn’t the sound of soone being strangled. It was chanical—like gears grinding, like sothing breaking open inside him.
A mont later, black blood—thick, rank, reeking of decay—began seeping from the corner of his mouth, sliding down his jaw and dripping onto the back of my hand. The burning sting of it sent a violent shiver down my spine.
Worse still—
his eyeballs twitched upward all at once, rolling until only a dead-white sheen remained. The pupils retreated deep into the sockets, trembling faintly, as though they might spill out at any mont.
“Fake… you’re fake!” I choked out, terror and fury tangling in my voice.
But before I could gather myself, the “Lian” beneath lifted his hands.
Not naturally. Not humanly.
They rose like a puppet’s—jerky, stiff—fingers stretching toward my throat.
Cold. Bone-cold. Like the breath of a corpse.
Buzz—
My vision snapped to black.
Then—
I jerked awake with a violent shudder.
My limbs were still frozen in the “tackling” pose, but there was nothing beneath . I was sprawled alone on the freezing stone floor, nose full of dust.
I sucked in air, chest heaving.
“A dream… it was just a dream?!”
“Ha… thank the heavens… I thought I was done for…”
Still wiping away cold sweat, I lifted my head—
And froze.
A familiar figure stood right in front of . Silent. Motionless.
Lian.
Hands clasped behind him, looking down at , gaze cool. A faint, almost mocking smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“…What now?” he asked lightly. “Is this the proper greeting you offer when you see ?”
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