The ceiling dipped so low Minnow couldn't straighten. His back stayed bent, as if something were pressing down on it. The stone walls brushed his shoulders—rough and cold—scraping his clothes into a faint, gritty whisper.
Every step made a soft shhh against the ground.
In this silence, the sound was painfully loud.
The wind outside was gone. In its place came a dull, hollow echo. The torchlight turned a sickly yellow, unable to reach far. Ahead lay a darkness that never seemed to retreat.
His breathing began to falter.
Don't think. Don't think.
But the harder he tried, the more it felt as though the stone walls were closing in. A buzzing filled his ears, like water rushing into them. His chest tightened in waves. Each breath felt like drawing in cold knives.
He staggered a few more steps.
Then his legs suddenly went weak.
No.
The moment he squeezed out of the narrow entrance, he nearly stumbled backward into a corner. There he collapsed, curling up with his knees clutched to his chest as silent tears spilled from his eyes.
He jammed the torch into a crack in the stone wall. Firelight clung to the rock, twisting his shadow into crooked shapes that swayed like several figures rocking together.
He buried his head between his knees.
As if the sky had fallen.
He didn't know how long he stayed like that.
Maybe only a few breaths.
Maybe much longer.
The silence around him was terrifying. Only his ragged breathing remained, striking the stone walls and bouncing back again and again.
Then—
Footsteps.
Very light.
But in his ears they sounded like hammer blows.
Someone was coming closer.
He jerked his head up in terror. A dark shape loomed before him. With a cry, he grabbed the torch and swung it wildly, like a drowning man thrashing for anything to hold onto. The flame whipped through the air, scattering sparks.
Suddenly his wrist was seized by a cold hand.
He screamed again.
Until, squinting through the glare, he finally saw the face in front of him.
Wei.
Minnow's vision blurred instantly. It was as though a string stretched too tight had finally snapped. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Wei, his whole body shaking.
Wei froze.
In the firelight he saw a bright, delicate face—soft brows, soft eyes—crying like pear blossoms drenched in rain.
For a moment, Wei thought he must be mistaken.
But the faint fragrance of the girl's body… the softness pressed against his chest…
Wei stood there, stunned, not daring to move.
The torch fell with a soft thud, the flame dimming as dust smothered it.
Wei snapped back to himself and quickly picked it up again. Then he patted Minnow on the shoulder.
Only then did Minnow realize what he had done. Embarrassed, he released Wei—but his hand still clutched a corner of Wei's clothes, almost unconsciously.
The feeling stirred an old memory in Wei.
Spring had once followed him like that too.
Always gripping the edge of his clothes, refusing to let go.
He shook his head, forcing the thought away. Holding the torch ahead, he began moving slowly through the cave, Minnow trailing close behind.
Minnow staggered after him.
"I… can't move," he whispered, his voice trembling so faint it was barely audible.
Wei didn't offer comfort.
Instead, he reached back and pressed something into Minnow's palm.
Cold.
Sharp.
A dagger.
Minnow blinked in surprise."Where did you get a weapon?"
His fingertip brushed the blade by accident. The cold shot straight through his hand and into his chest. He wanted to say something, but his throat felt clogged.
In the darkness, the weight of the dagger suddenly felt real.
As if it dragged him a little way back from the edge of panic.
—
Light flared again at the tunnel entrance.
The old woodcutter crawled in, panting heavily. The torch in his hand illuminated his wrinkled, sweat-soaked face.
Darkness swallowed everything ahead.
His unease deepened.
Behind him came Zhang San's voice, loud and deliberate, echoing through the tunnel.
"I'm telling you—
f there really are ghosts in this cave, they'd run from me, Zhang San!
I once slept three nights straight in a burial ground. Not a single ghost dared come near my bed!"
The woodcutter couldn't help calling out,"The people ahead—where are you?"
He tried to keep his voice low, but the last note still trembled.
Only a distant, whimpering echo answered him.
He shivered harder and slowed his steps. This wasn't his first time here, but the faint crying sounds still made his head spin.
Another flare of light appeared at the entrance.
Li Si squeezed in right behind him.
"Move it, old bastard! The way you stick your ass out, I can already tell what kind of crap you're about to drop!" Li Si kicked him twice and cursed loudly—almost as if the noise were meant to reassure himself.
No one expected Zhang San to come in last.
His bulk nearly got him stuck. The stone walls tore several gashes into his clothes as he forced his way forward, teeth clenched. His greed for treasure easily outweighed the discomfort.
"Where's my treasure?"
The torchlight wavered, making his fat shadow leap wildly across the stone walls.
His eyes gleamed as the cramped passage slowly widened, becoming a carved stone corridor.
Marks of human chiseling could be seen along the walls. When the firelight passed over them, fragments of large blood-red characters appeared—smeared and half-erased, as though someone had tried to wipe them away with force.
Wind whispered through the cracks in the stone.
"See?" Zhang San scoffed."No crying at all. Just the wind!"
—
Wei and Minnow turned past the corridor and stepped into a vast stone chamber.
The space was far larger than they had imagined. The ceiling arched high above them, hollow echoes drifting through the air.
At the center of the cavern stood a stone coffin.
It was massive and thick, yet rested upon a lotus-shaped stone pedestal carved from a single block.
Strangely, the lid wasn't stone.
It was black lacquered wood—smooth and gleaming, reflecting a dark red sheen in the torchlight.
Minnow shrank behind Wei and squeezed his eyes shut.
Wei, however, circled the coffin slowly, curiosity in his gaze. He slipped his hand beneath the edge of the lid.
A faint draft brushed his fingertips.
Wind.
Coming from inside.
It came and went.
He pressed his hand closer.
The wind stopped again.
As if something inside the coffin had been breathing.
His curiosity deepened.
Turning back, he gestured for Minnow to help lift the lid.
Minnow's face turned ghostly pale. He shook his head frantically, looking at Wei with pitiful eyes, almost ready to cry again.
At that moment—
Footsteps echoed behind them.
Both boys turned, their backs now to the coffin, staring toward the entrance.
Torchlight flickered wildly.
Li Si and the old woodcutter stepped into the chamber first.
But Zhang San's voice arrived even sooner, drifting in from behind them.
"Move! Stop playing dead! Today I'm going to see exactly how much gold and silver is hidden here! And if anyone dares pocket my treasure, I'll chop off his hands on the spot!"
Yet the moment Li Si and the woodcutter stepped forward, their faces changed instantly.
Like men who had just seen a ghost.
They turned to run—
Only to find Zhang San blocking the passage behind them.
"Cowards. What are you afraid of?"
The woodcutter could barely get the words out. His trembling finger pointed toward the coffin.
"Th-there's… there's a corpse…"
"It's… moving."