Little Pink Starfish

Zhang Qiu stared at Li Shu suspiciously. “Did you get swapped with someone else?”

Li Shu took the bowl from him and asked indifferently, “Is your ass itching for a beating?”

The moment Zhang Qiu caught that look in Li Shu’s eyes, he immediately backed down. His mind couldn’t help but recall that huge thing of Li Shu’s, and his backside clenched instinctively. He quickly changed his tune, smiling and flattering, “You’re the best! I could forget anything, but I’d never forget you. You’re my fierce and domineering Li Shu!”

What a bootlicking little coward—so cute it was unbearable.

Li Shu’s gaze darkened with desire, locking onto Zhang Qiu.

Zhang Qiu swallowed nervously. Why is he looking at me like he’s stripping me with his eyes? His imagination ran wild, instantly filling his mind with a million steamy fantasies. Ahhh, this is so embarrassing!

“Just wait—I’ll deal with you later.”

Li Shu’s voice was so low that Zhang Qiu barely caught it. Then again, they were outside, possibly standing on top of an ancient tomb, and Xiapi Prince Huai was right there. It wasn’t exactly the best place for… well, anything wild.

Damn it, why am I thinking like this?! It’s all Li Shu’s fault!

Zhang Qiu yawned. Now that he was full, all his blood had rushed to his head, making him drowsy. He slumped back in his chair, mumbling sleepily, “You should rest too. I bet it’ll take them a while…”

Before he could finish, a sudden BOOM echoed from the distance.

Even though it was a muffled explosion, the force was still powerful. Zhang Qiu was jolted awake, all traces of sleepiness gone. He looked toward the source of the sound but couldn’t see anything—the vegetation was too dense.

But he recognized that noise.

“They’re blasting a tunnel with dynamite.”

“They actually found the entrance?” Zhang Qiu asked.

Li Shu and Xiapi Prince Huai had already gotten out of the car. Zhang Qiu quickly followed. “It’s still going to take them a few hours, right?”

“We’ll keep watch,” Xiapi Prince Huai said, eyes fixed ahead, unwilling to miss a single moment.

Zhang Qiu nodded. If they wanted to intercept the prize, they couldn’t afford to be late. “Then we should bring our gear.”

The three of them slung on their backpacks. Li Shu originally wanted to carry Zhang Qiu’s, but Zhang Qiu shook his head. “I can handle it. You need to stay nimble for combat. Carrying too much will slow you down.”

Li Shu considered this and didn’t argue.

Following behind Li Shu, Zhang Qiu trudged through the uneven mountain terrain. Although the blasting site was only about a kilometer away in a straight line, the path was rugged and dark. They couldn’t risk using flashlights, so they had to feel their way through the pitch-black forest.

The ground was full of pits and bumps. Zhang Qiu stumbled on a loose rock, but before he could fall, Li Shu, as if he had eyes on the back of his head, reached back and caught him.

“I’m fine,” Zhang Qiu whispered.

Li Shu held onto his hand and didn’t let go. “Mm.” He continued forward.

The sound of the explosives grew deeper and more distant. Zhang Qiu knew this meant they were digging deeper into the earth. Their progress was surprisingly fast.

About a hundred meters ahead, the other group’s camp was brightly lit by three large lanterns, making the center area as bright as daylight. Two figures stood there.

Just as Zhang Qiu tried to get a clearer look, Li Shu suddenly pushed him down into the grass.

“Shh.”

Li Shu’s lips brushed against Zhang Qiu’s ear, cool breath slipping inside, making Zhang Qiu shiver. He nodded, body tensing with alertness.

Then, out of nowhere—

Something wet and cold licked his ear.

Zhang Qiu jerked violently, his sensitive spot completely exposed. His legs instantly went weak, and he nearly collapsed. Li Shu caught him, pressed him into his embrace, and nipped at his earlobe.

Zhang Qiu trembled, electricity sparking up his spine. His entire body felt unbearably tingly.

Li Shu smirked in satisfaction. “So that’s your weak spot, huh?”

“Stop messing around! What if they notice us?!” Zhang Qiu whispered angrily, his voice unintentionally soft and whiny. He had no threatening effect whatsoever.

Li Shu pointed ahead. “This distance is perfect. Lao Jin isn’t human—if we get any closer, he’ll sense us.”

Lao Jin isn’t human.

The phrase sounded like an insult, but coming from Li Shu, it was completely literal.

Zhang Qiu peeked through the grass. From here, he could make out Lao Jin’s shadowy figure.

“The one next to him—is that Hong-jie?”

“Hong-jie?” Li Shu’s voice turned cold. Instead of answering, he bit Zhang Qiu’s ear again, gently grinding his teeth over it.

Zhang Qiu shivered uncontrollably.

This bastard! He needed to find Li Shu’s weak spot one day and torture him mercilessly!

Gritting his teeth, Zhang Qiu quickly surrendered. “I was wrong! Whatever Red or Hong, none of them are as good-looking as you!”

Li Shu, who used to hate being called “good-looking,” suddenly found that he didn’t mind when Zhang Qiu said it. He let go, clearly in a good mood.

Just when Zhang Qiu thought it was over, Li Shu bit his ear again— this time harder.

“Ow! What was that for?!”

“If you ever bring up another woman again—”

“I won’t! I swear! My heart belongs only to you, not anyone else!” Zhang Qiu nearly dropped to his knees and called Li Shu daddy in defeat.

At that moment—

“Cough, cough.”

A low cough came from the grass behind them.

It was Xiapi Prince Huai.

Realizing that Xiapi Prince Huai had witnessed their shameless ear-biting, Zhang Qiu wanted to die on the spot. He shot a vicious glare at Li Shu, but to Li Shu, it only looked like Zhang Qiu was flirting.

Just then, the explosions stopped.

Zhang Qiu peered through the grass. Lao Jin and Hong-jie were talking, and the boss shouted from the tunnel entrance.

“It’s done! Xiao Gao, you go first—”

“AAAHHHH!!!”

A horrific scream erupted from the tunnel.

The sound was long, twisted, and echoed unnaturally, sending chills down Zhang Qiu’s spine.

Everyone froze. The boss immediately backed away from the entrance.

Zhang Qiu’s ears twitched. “Someone screamed inside.”

Li Shu and Xiapi Prince Huai also heard. They didn’t move—waiting for the perfect moment to intercept.

Then, silence.

The screams had been abruptly cut off.

Zhang Qiu’s heartbeat pounded. The air was too quiet. The only sound was the whisper of the wind.

Something was very, very wrong.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly—maybe seconds, maybe minutes. The tunnel entrance remained dead silent.

The boss hesitated, then shouted into the darkness, “Xiao Gao? Xiao Gao, answer me! Don’t fucking scare us like that!”

He tried to sound tough, but his forehead was drenched in sweat, and his heart was hammering in his chest.

The tunnel remained silent.

It was as if Xiao Gao had never existed.

The boss glanced at Hong-jie, then at Lao Jin. He gulped, clearly shaken. “We were just supposed to steal the pearl. If I knew this was so fucking dangerous, I never would’ve come.”

He shot Hong-jie a look—suggesting they should cut and run.

Hong-jie’s face was deathly pale. She hadn’t been down a tomb in years, and her money from past jobs was running out. But she still valued her life.

A “meat shield” was supposed to protect them, but now their meat shield was gone. She had no intention of dying for a paycheck.

Nodding subtly to the boss, she agreed, “Yeah, yeah! This place is too eerie. We should come back in daylight with more backup. The boss funding this won’t mind spending extra on hired muscle.”

Neither of them realized that the short, thin man beside them was actually Lao Jin.

Lao Jin, head slightly bowed, smiled.

The other two didn’t see it—only heard him say, “That’s reasonable. In that case—”

---

In the grass, Zhang Qiu’s vision suddenly went black.

Li Shu had covered his eyes.

“Don’t look.”

“AAAHHHH—!!!”

The boss let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Then—silence.

Without seeing the scene, the mere sound of it was even more terrifying. Zhang Qiu’s pulse raced wildly. He yanked Li Shu’s hand away—

On the ground, the boss lay motionless.

His face twisted in agony, his body shriveled up like a corpse drained of blood. His lifeless eyes stared straight at Zhang Qiu.

Zhang Qiu felt a sharp pang in his stomach.

---

Li Shu frowned. “Don’t look. Stay close to me.”

“You don’t feel well?” Xiapi Prince Huai asked, noticing Zhang Qiu’s pale face.

Zhang Qiu hesitated. The pain had already faded—maybe just from being startled. He shook his head. “I’m fine. Let’s go down.”

Li Shu took the lead, Zhang Qiu followed in the middle, and Xiapi Prince Huai guarded the rear.

As they climbed down the tunnel, Zhang Qiu’s stomach started aching again. A deep, pulling pain.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

Just as he was about to speak, Li Shu suddenly stopped.

Zhang Qiu was caught off guard and bumped into him.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” He forced himself to focus through the pain.

The tunnel was too narrow for Li Shu to turn around fully. Instead, he tilted his head slightly. “Your breathing is off. What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing—”

“Tell me the truth.” Li Shu’s voice turned cold.

Zhang Qiu was startled. Under the pressure of that tone, he blurted, “My stomach… it hurts. A lot.”

The pain was sharp, twisting. He instinctively drew in shaky breaths, thinking back to a college classmate who once fainted from period cramps.

Back then, he’d innocently asked what was wrong—only to later find out she was on her period. He’d secretly thought, “Thank god I’m a guy and don’t have to deal with that.”

But now?

Karma was hitting hard.

It hurt SO MUCH. QAQ.

Zhang Qiu bit his lip, eyes stinging.

There was a faint rustling sound, then a cool, icy hand gently supported him.

Another cold hand pressed against his stomach.

A wave of chilling energy seeped in, spreading through his abdomen. The pain slowly dulled.

A soft kiss landed on his forehead.

Zhang Qiu blinked.

Just for a second, he caught a glimpse of scarlet eyes— then Li Shu’s usual face.

He was stunned.

“How do you feel now? Does it still hurt?” Li Shu asked.

Zhang Qiu snapped out of it. He hesitated, then shook his head. “It’s much better.”

“This place is damp. It’s not safe to talk for too long. Stick close to me. If the pain gets worse, say something immediately,” Li Shu said. He wiped Zhang Qiu’s cold sweat away, kissed his eyelid, and turned back toward the path ahead.

---

Zhang Qiu followed behind, his mind still spinning.

That flash of red…

---

They finally reached the bottom.

The air was thick with a putrid stench— a mix of decay and blood. Zhang Qiu turned pale, forcing himself not to gag.

Lao Jin and Hong-jie had already reached the tomb chamber’s passageway.

On the ground, a severed arm lay discarded. The sleeve still clung to it—Xiao Gao’s.

Blood was everywhere.

Beside it, a Jiangshi covered in green fur had been decapitated. Its hollow black eyes stared directly at them.

The tomb door remained shut, and behind them, the passage extended into pitch-black tunnels.

Zhang Qiu glanced at both ends. “Where did Lao Jin and Hong-jie go?”

Li Shu stared into the dark passage for a moment. “They went forward.”

They turned in the opposite direction.

But after just a few meters—

They hit a crossroads.

Four different tunnels stretched ahead, all shrouded in darkness. Zhang Qiu shone his flashlight down one, but it seemed endless.

His chest tightened. “Is this a maze?”

The thought reminded him of Xiapi Prince Huai’s tomb. He had nearly been eaten alive there.

Li Shu said flatly, “No. Just pick one.”

Zhang Qiu was stunned.

“…Are we seriously just picking randomly?”

“It doesn’t matter. Staying here is pointless,” Li Shu said nonchalantly.

Zhang Qiu: …

“Wait—” Zhang Qiu protested. “We can at least flip a coin!”

But before he could, Li Shu grabbed his hand and started walking.

Xiapi Prince Huai followed without a word.

Zhang Qiu sighed. Fine, whatever. My luck sucks anyway.

---

The tunnel wasn’t long.

After walking barely a hundred meters, they hit a dead end.

“Wrong way,” Zhang Qiu muttered, disappointed. His luck really was trash.

Xiapi Prince Huai suddenly frowned. “Water.”

“…What?” Zhang Qiu blinked.

He listened carefully—the faint sound of rushing water echoed behind them.

His stomach dropped.

Li Shu explained, “It’s a trap. Three tunnels lead to dead ends. Once we turn back, the walls will collapse, and water will flood everything.”

Zhang Qiu shuddered.

“How old is this tomb? Wouldn’t the water have evaporated by now?”

“It’s not normal water,” Xiapi Prince Huai said.

Zhang Qiu’s mind raced. What if it was acid? What if Li Shu’s face melted?!