Little Pink Starfish

“Brother Lishu, look—” Boss Jin clearly wanted Lishu to take the lead.

Old Fei impatiently said, “Dragging your feet like this, are you even a man? I’ll go first.” As he spoke, he deliberately glanced at Lishu when he mentioned “not a man.”

Zhang Qiu’s short temper flared up instantly, but Lishu squeezed his hand, his eyes carrying a hint of amusement, though his gaze toward Old Fei was icy cold.

Old Fei led his black-clad men down first. Boss Jin and his subordinates followed in the middle, with Zhang Yushui and Zhang Qiu behind them, and Lishu taking up the rear. This time, perhaps because of previous experience, Zhang Qiu didn’t let his imagination run wild and scare himself. He wasn’t afraid, especially with Lishu right behind him. He crawled quickly, his backside sticking up.

The people in front used flashlights, but due to the tunnel’s narrow and elongated shape, the light became dim toward the back. Lishu didn’t use a flashlight. His eyes faintly glowed with a red mist as he stared intently at Zhang Qiu’s backside, which swayed as he crawled. The red hue in Lishu’s eyes deepened.

Zhang Qiu felt a chill behind him and grew uneasy. He called out softly, “Lishu?”

“Hmm?”

Just that single syllable—low and pleasing—made Zhang Qiu’s arms go weak, and he almost collapsed onto the ground. Too unfair! In the darkness, his ears turned red. He felt like he was curling up into a mosquito coil. Luckily, the tunnel was dark, so Lishu couldn’t see; otherwise, he would explode from embarrassment.

“N-Nothing.” Zhang Qiu stammered, thinking to himself that only he would be capable of thinking nonsense in a tomb tunnel.

This time, everything went smoothly, unlike before when they had encountered obstacles. The tunnel was well-placed and led straight to the passageway. Old Fei, leading the way, saw that everyone had arrived. When he spotted Lishu at the back, he sneered and jokingly said to Boss Jin, “You’re too cautious. See? Nothing happened. Stop being paranoid. You got tricked by whoever claimed to be an expert.”

Everyone present understood the implication. Boss Jin laughed awkwardly to change the subject. “Let’s keep moving!”

Zhang Qiu looked displeased and snorted, mainly feeling indignant on Lishu’s behalf. He had witnessed Lishu’s skills firsthand. If it weren’t for Lishu, he wouldn’t have made it out of the Xiapi Prince Hui’s tomb alive.

This tomb had only a single passageway with no branches. They walked along it for about fifteen minutes when they encountered a black pillar standing in the middle, extending from floor to ceiling. It was intricately carved. Zhang Qiu exclaimed in surprise; it resembled the pillars surrounding the stone coffin bed in the Gu Mu Kingdom’s royal tomb.

Zhang Yushui stepped forward and examined it under his flashlight. The patterns were simple and irregular, making it difficult to decipher. “It might be some kind of symbol.”

Old Fei and his group showed no interest in this, urging them to hurry up and not dawdle.

These men were impatient, as if they were rushing straight to the main burial chamber. Zhang Qiu pouted but kept up. After another fifteen minutes, they encountered another black pillar in the middle of the passage. This continued until the fifth pillar, where they finally saw the main tomb passage.

The passage was narrow, less than a meter wide, and short, about four or five meters in length. Everything—walls, floor, and ceiling—was pitch black.

Old Fei shone his flashlight ahead. The moment they saw what lay beyond, everyone gasped and instinctively stepped back a few paces.

“What the hell is that?”

A pair of fierce, menacing eyes glared at them from the tomb entrance, as if daring them to take another step closer, ready to tear them apart.

Scarface, his expression full of fear, immediately pulled out his gun and fired several shots. The bullets landed with dull thuds, but the enormous, vicious eyes continued to stare at them relentlessly.

“It’s a statue,” Zhang Yushui said.

“How? It clearly looked alive—” One of Boss Jin’s subordinates, sweating profusely, had barely finished speaking when he shone his flashlight more carefully. He exhaled in relief. “Damn, it really is a statue. Nearly scared me to death. What the hell is this thing made of?”

A massive stone statue crouched in front of the stone door. It had a human face, tiger’s feet, a pig-like mouth with protruding fangs, and an extremely long tail that rested in the door crack, reaching up to the passage ceiling. The statue was incredibly lifelike, enough to create an illusion at first glance.

“A Taowu,” Lishu said coldly. “Its eyes were painted with something.”

Zhang Qiu immediately thought of the batch of dancer figurines from the Xiapi Prince Hui’s tomb. Those had also caused hallucinations. Fortunately, since this statue was further away and only its eyes were painted, the effect wasn’t too strong.

“Taowu, my ass! I don’t believe in this crap. Let’s go!” Old Fei ordered Scarface to move forward, but Scarface hesitated, glancing at Lishu instead. Old Fei turned red with anger. “Useless! I’ll do it myself.”

Zhang Qiu had a feeling Old Fei was about to court death but didn’t intervene. As soon as Old Fei stepped onto a black floor tile, the tile flipped, and he lost his balance, falling into a pit. Scarface, missing half his face, lunged forward and grabbed him just in time. Through the gap, they saw a pit full of sharp stone blades—certain death if he had fallen in.

“Let’s go.” Lishu ignored Old Fei’s struggles and naturally took Zhang Qiu’s hand, leading the way. “Follow me closely.”

Zhang Yushui followed right behind. His gaze darkened as he fixed his eyes on the tightly shut door ahead, feeling an unseen force pulling him forward.

Boss Jin hastily signaled his men to follow. Ever the opportunist, he didn’t even offer Old Fei a word of concern as he rushed after Zhang Yushui.

After witnessing the trap, Zhang Qiu was tense, gripping Lishu’s hand tightly, afraid of stepping wrong and dragging Lishu down with him. In just four or five meters, he was drenched in sweat, and his stomach ached dully. He murmured, “Ugh…”

Lishu turned back. “What’s wrong?”

“My stomach feels tight and sore.”

The moment Zhang Qiu spoke, Lishu placed a cold hand on his stomach. The icy touch made Zhang Qiu shiver, but the discomfort disappeared instantly—like magic.

“Better?”

“You just touched me, and it stopped hurting.” The words sounded oddly flirtatious. Zhang Qiu secretly observed Lishu’s reaction, but he didn’t seem to mind. Did that mean Lishu wasn’t averse to being flirted with by men?

The thought thrilled Zhang Qiu. He was overjoyed.

“How do we get in?” Zhang Yushui asked urgently.

Lishu scanned the stone statue. “There’s a mechanism, but behind it—”

“I don’t care what’s behind it, Brother Lishu. We must get inside. Don’t you want the box?” Boss Jin interrupted.

Lishu stared at Boss Jin. His gaze felt odd to Zhang Qiu—but undeniably handsome.

Boss Jin shivered under his stare and was about to say something when Lishu lightly stepped onto the statue’s foot and leaped up, shattering its painted eyes with a single slap.

The stone beast’s tail suddenly moved. It withdrew from the door crack and lashed out like a whip.

Lishu pulled Zhang Qiu into a safe corner. Zhang Yushui leaped up, somehow gripping the ceiling. Boss Jin’s group, however, weren’t so lucky and got hit squarely, crying out in pain.

Zhang Qiu couldn’t help but snicker. He leaned closer to Lishu and whispered, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Lishu smirked. Zhang Qiu nearly drooled—his love for good looks was incurable.

The doors slowly opened. Old Fei’s group immediately rushed inside, with Boss Jin, clutching his injured arm, following closely behind, unwilling to fall behind.

Zhang Qiu grew anxious. “The box!”

“They won’t be able to take it out,” Lishu said confidently.

Zhang Yushui had already landed. The three of them exchanged glances before stepping inside.

The moment Zhang Qiu entered, he was stunned by the sight before him.

This was practically a tomb for a thousand people. The floor had been dug into a circular shape, and the entire burial chamber was round, filled with countless black coffins stacked in layers upon layers. All the coffins faced the central platform. However, a deep trench full of sharp stone blades separated the platform from the coffins, making it impossible to reach unless one could fly.

At the center of the platform, a golden stand held a glowing red orb that radiated a fiery light, illuminating the layers of black coffins. The eerie thing was that the coffins seemed to be absorbing the red glow, slowly seeping it in.

A shiver ran down Zhang Qiu’s spine. The others were just as uneasy, except for Boss Jin, whose eyes showed no fear—only a crazed hunger as he fixated on the red orb atop the stand.

Boss Jin quickly rummaged through his subordinate’s backpack and pulled out a small crossbow with a rope attached to it. Zhang Qiu’s eyes widened in shock. He actually brought something like that?!

Boss Jin aimed at the platform, and with a sharp “whoosh,” the arrow embedded itself into one of the pillars.

His subordinates tightened the rope, pulling it taut into a straight line. Boss Jin swiftly donned a pair of gloves and began climbing across.

It all happened in mere minutes. Zhang Qiu was dumbfounded but also had an unsettling feeling he couldn’t quite put into words.

“What do we do? Boss Jin’s about to take it,” Zhang Qiu said anxiously to Lishu. He hadn’t forgotten that Lishu was here for the box.

Yet, Lishu remained completely calm, which somehow reassured Zhang Qiu as well. He sighed, relaxing slightly, and turned back just in time to see Boss Jin reaching the platform. His greedy hand stretched toward the glowing red orb—

A sudden gust of wind swept past Zhang Qiu’s ears.

The next second, a bloodcurdling scream filled the chamber.

“Boss!”

“The orb! The box!” Boss Jin’s voice rang out in panic.

“Ah Yan!” Zhang Yushui’s voice followed immediately.

Zhang Qiu looked up, but in the blink of an eye, only one person remained standing on the platform.

He wore a traditional Chinese cross-collar robe, his short hair framing a face as pale as snow. His lips were strikingly red, and beneath his eyes sat a crimson mole. He held the red orb between his slender, ghostly white fingers.

He looked down at them, his gaze sweeping across the room.

To be precise, he was looking at Zhang Yushui.

His eyes carried an inexplicable gentleness—yet in the next moment, they turned ice-cold and merciless.

It was Xiapi Prince Hui—Liu Yan.