Chapter 1: Blind Eyes Read the Bale

The tunnel was dead silent, heavy like iron, pitch black enough to swallow any light. The air reeked of rot and old blood; every breath felt like inhaling shards of broken glass. Zhang Beichuan stood behind Lin Wan, the ancient, yellowed scroll in his hand glowing fiercely in the faint firelight. Charred edges hinted at fire or the slow decay of ages. Gravel crunched under their heavy boots—a subtle cracking sound, the precursor to the tomb’s traps waking up.

Zhang Beichuan squinted, flames dancing in his pupils. He sounded on edge. “Wan-er, I spent half the night on this Cloud Pattern Map. The main chamber is west. Hurry up, don’t waste the hour.” He shoved the back of Lin Wan’s shoulder, hard enough to push, trying to speed up their pace. He didn’t realize he’d already maxed out her internal alarm system.

Lin Wan’s fingertips brushed the cold stone wall. The rough surface scraped her calluses raw, and she frowned, her instincts screaming. The chill seeped through her skin to her bones. She remembered Chen Lao’s teachings: Shaqi in a tomb flows on a fixed path, usually downhill. But this cold current was rushing in from the east, against all logic, the exact opposite of what the scroll’s “follow the current” instruction said. The reverse flow brushed the back of her neck like a ghost’s hand, sending a shudder of unease down her spine.

Lin Wan stopped and turned, her voice dropping low. “Senior Brother, the map is a trap. The Shaqi in the east is too intense. If we follow the map west, we’ll trigger a chain of death traps.” Her voice echoed in the empty tunnel, cold and unyielding.

The corner of Zhang Beichuan’s mouth twitched—a cold, barely noticeable sneer. A shadow of exposure flashed in his eyes. He whipped the scroll open, the motion crude, revealing the poison needles hidden inside. Tiny silver needles glittered in the firelight, obviously not standard shurikens, but specialized killing weapons.

Zhang Beichuan barked, his voice cracking with rage. “You blind fool, what do you know? That idiot Chen Lao is too far gone for his own good. Only I know the real path to survival!” His cunning was no longer hidden. In that moment, the bond of their shared master became a joke.

He shoved Lin Wan again, hard enough to send her staggering on the brink of falling. At the same time, Zhang Beichuan swept his leg to kick the stone gate’s control lever. The heavy gate slammed shut, sealing the exit completely with the weight of tons, cutting off their only retreat. A massive jolt kicked up dust, dimming the light in the tunnel until only the faint, threatening flame in Zhang Beichuan’s hand remained.

Zhang Beichuan turned his back, his voice cold as ice, laced with vicious finality. “Go on, figure it out in this paper doll tomb. I’ll wait for your corpse.” He spun around, heading toward a hidden side passage he had prepped, his silhouette vanishing into the dark. He left Lin Wan alone in the sealed death trap.

In the darkness, Lin Wan didn’t scream or struggle. She slowly regulated her breathing, released her grip on her hilt, then squeezed it tight again before sheathing the blade. The metal scrape cut through the silence. The world before her eyes was still black, but that familiar, nauseating stinging sensation hit her. It felt like someone was drilling a glowing red needle into her retina.

A hum exploded in her brain. In the void before her, blurry halos of light emerged. They weren’t static; they flowed and intertwined like thick black liquid in the air, coalescing into twisted shapes. This was the Fierce Omen Vision, fully awakened for the first time under such extreme pressure and terror. She couldn’t see objects, but she could see the flow of “qi” and the trajectory of death.

She saw that behind the seemingly still paper dolls, black Shaqi squirmed like living creatures, connecting to hidden trigger nodes beneath the floor. The dead-silent chamber transformed in her vision into a flowing, malicious web. Every node pulsed, marking danger.

Lin Wan whispered, her voice barely a breath. “So that’s it. The Shaqi points west, but the path to life is in the east.”

She took her first step, her foot landing precisely on the edge of a raised brick, using the leverage to slide across the ground that looked flat but was riddled with spikes. Her body carved a graceful arc through the dark, dodging every potential death trap.

Outside, Zhang Beichuan leaned against the wall, fidgeting with a lighter. The sharp “click” echoed in the silent air. He listened to the movement inside, a smug smile on his face, the firelight reflecting his狰狞 grin.

Zhang Beichuan muttered, dripping with disdain. “That idiot can’t tell east from west. If she survives five minutes, she owes me a debt of gratitude.” He imagined Lin Wan thrashing helplessly in the dark, eventually ground up by the traps, using the fantasy to soothe his anxiety.

But in the next second, he didn’t hear a scream from a trap. No heavy thud of a body hitting the ground. No panic. Just very light, steady footsteps, moving to a specific rhythm, heading deeper. The pace was unbothered, even elegant. Zhang Beichuan’s smile froze.

His finger stayed on the lighter, the flame flickering in his palm. His face darkened instantly. A brand new kind of fear crawled up his spine.

Urgent footsteps broke the tunnel’s silence. Chen Lao and Xiao Jiu arrived, out of breath, faces tight with worry. Seeing the sealed gate and Zhang Beichuan’s cold, shifting expression, Chen Lao’s eyes sharpened like blades, locking onto the only suspect.

Chen Lao ordered, his voice low but heavy with authority. “Beichuan, where is Lin Wan? Why did you seal the exit?”

Zhang Beichuan turned, his face rapidly shifting to one of heartbroken distress. His eyes reddened, his voice trembling as if he’d just been through a massive shock and helplessness.

Zhang Beichuan choked back tears, his acting impeccable. “Master, I didn’t want to! She wouldn’t listen, insisted on rushing into the paper doll tomb. I was worried she’d get hurt, so I panicked and closed the gate…” He tried to mask his inner scheming with fake chaos.

Xiao Jiu gripped his shovel, shaking all over. He pointed his finger at Zhang Beichuan, veins bulging in his forehead. “Don’t play dumb! You kicked the lever! You were trying to use the traps as a murder weapon!” His voice cracked, laced with anger and fear for Lin Wan.

Zhang Beichuan snapped back, stepping half a pace back into a victim pose. “You’re out of your mind, Xiao Jiu! I’m her senior brother. Would I hurt her? The Shaqi here is heavy, she just lost her way!”

Chen Lao watched Zhang Beichuan’s flickering eyes but didn’t call him out immediately. Instead, he turned to the stone door, pressing his palm against the surface. He felt a faint vibration inside, rhythmic like a heartbeat.

Chen Lao spoke, calm and insightful. “The Shaqi inside is wrong. Someone is actively manipulating the airflow.”

Xiao Jiu gritted his teeth and slammed his shovel into the gap beside the door. “I’m going to pry it open!” He refused to sit and wait for death.

Panic flashed in Zhang Beichuan’s eyes, quickly replaced by forced calm. He stepped forward to block Xiao Jiu, a move that looked protective but was actually a barrier.

Zhang Beichuan shouted, raising his voice to cover his guilt. “Don’t touch it! If you trigger the locking mechanism behind the door, the whole tunnel will collapse! Are you insane?”

Xiao Jiu froze, glaring at Zhang Beichuan with fury but too afraid to defy Chen Lao’s previous warning about “not moving the stone gate on your own.” He stepped back, eyes never leaving Zhang Beichuan, his shovel still raised.

Inside the tomb, Lin Wan had reached the entrance to the main chamber. A massive core of Shaqi hung in mid-air like a black vortex, the pressure intense enough to warp the surrounding air.

She closed her eyes. The blurry halos began to condense, finally locking onto a blinding red point at the center of the vortex. That was the Life Gate. The only weakness of this Fierce Omen, and the hub of the entire mechanism.

Just then, the sound of cracking stone broke the air. Zhang Beichuan forced his way in through the hidden side passage, a short knife in hand. His face was twisted in malice. His earlier “retreat” was just a feint; he hadn’t given up the hunt.

Zhang Beichuan snarled, knife tip pointed at Lin Wan. “Found you, Lin Wan. Hand over the Remnant Jade, and I won’t kill you.”

Lin Wan held her longsword, standing still in the dark, her figure planted like a silent statue.

Lin Wan said, her tone terrifyingly calm. “Senior Brother, you’re carrying a heavy amount of Shaqi on your back. Sounds like you’ve been up to a lot of shady business lately.”

Zhang Beichuan froze. He hadn’t expected her to see his state in this environment. He instantly slashed toward her face, the move vicious, devoid of any brotherly feeling, pure killing intent.

Lin Wan sidestepped. The blade whipped past her hem, tearing a strip of cloth. Following the Shaqi flow in her vision, she took a precise step, dodging the hidden spikes that shot up from the floor. Her movements were fluid, without a wasted motion.

Zhang Beichuan was terrified. He remembered that area was a dead end, traps everywhere. How did she know where to step?

Zhang Beichuan roared, his voice breaking with fear. “What are you seeing?!”

Lin Wan said no more. Her sword moved like a dragon, striking straight for the center of the black vortex.

The blade flashed, not cutting toward Zhang Beichuan, but slashing at the red point in the air.

*Crack.* A light, decisive sound, like something solid snapping. The black vortex instantly collapsed, dissolving into plumes of black smoke. The suffocating pressure vanished.

At the same time, the stone coffin in the center of the chamber slowly opened. Gold light leaked from the gap, revealing the Remnant Jade inside, glowing with a warm sheen.

Zhang Beichuan’s pupils shrank. He lunged to grab it, but a violent headache struck, the backlash of his own Shaqi crashing into him. He crumpled to the ground, black blood spilling from his mouth, his body convulsing.

Zhang Beichuan whined weakly, his voice hoarse and broken. “Damn it… my Shaqi…”

Lin Wan retrieved the Remnant Jade and tucked it into her robes. Her eyes were still blind, but in that moment, a flash of the future crossed her mind: In three seconds, Zhang Beichuan would flee northwest. There, a collapsed section of the tunnel awaited, enough to bury him forever.

She didn’t stop him. She just watched coldly as he scrambled up, limping into the darkness, walking toward the death trap he had set for himself.

The chamber returned to calm. Lin Wan gripped the Remnant Jade, her fingers trembling. The danger she foresaw wasn’t from Zhang Beichuan himself, but from a deeper shadow. Even after the vortex collapsed, that shadow lingered on the edge of her vision, waiting for its chance.

Outside, Zhang Beichuan hid in the shadows, his face pale, a twisted smile on his lips. He pulled a black phone from his pocket, his fingers shaking as he dialed a number. The screen’s light illuminated his distorted face.

Zhang Beichuan whispered, his voice a mix of despair and madness. “Hey, it’s me. I got the Remnant Jade… no, I didn’t. She’s too strong. That old geezer seems suspicious. We need to step up the game. Move the plan forward.”

Static crackled from the other end, followed by a bone-chilling, low laugh, an echo from the depths of hell, foreshadowing a much greater crisis about to land.