Suddenly, a sharp “Ha!” cut through the air.
“Ugh, how annoying! People are trying to sleep here, stop scratching!”
Qu Qi was petrified. “Who’s talking?”
A voice emanated from the stone door. “Me! It was you just now, wasn’t it? Scratching my back and tickling me?”
The effort I just put in—using every ounce of my strength—was just a ‘tickle’ to it?!
Qu Qi felt her dignity take a direct hit. “Are you… the Door God or the tomb owner?”
“I am the Guardian Spirit of this gate, tasked with preventing living intruders like you from wandering in,” the stone door replied in a soft, adorable baby voice, sweet as honey. “You cannot enter. This is not a place for you.”
If it won’t let her in, what’s the move? Bluffer’s luck.
Qu Qi began to spin a wild yarn. “Oh, Great Senior, please show some mercy! The tomb owner and I are actually best friends. We grew up together, the kind of friends who shared a bed and wore the same pair of pants. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her, I miss her terribly! I just want to go in and take one look!”
The black cat’s thoughts were complicated: …She really doesn’t even need a draft to lie.
The stone door was indeed enraged and countered: “Nonsense! This tomb owner died a hundred years ago. You look like you’re barely in your teens. How could you possibly know her?”
Qu Qi blinked her clear, fox-like eyes. She was born with exquisite features; with her brow slightly furrowed, she looked so pitiable that anyone would feel a stir of compassion.
She said, “Actually… actually, I’m already over a hundred years old. It’s just that I’ve maintained my appearance very well. Do you believe me?”
“A hundred-year-old at the Qi Refining stage?”
The stone door looked at that face, the face of a “glamorous vixen” with zero credibility and decided it would be a fool to believe her. It flatly refused: “Just go back. Take my advice: the water in here is very deep. You won’t be able to handle it.”
Qu Qi was skeptical. “Is that the truth?”
The stone door got angry. “You looking for trouble? I’m the doorkeeper; would I lie to you?”
As it grew angry, the entire door turned a deep crimson, letting out a deafening boom. Qu Qi scrambled to cover her ears as the ground beneath her began to heave. The long corridor started shaking, and clouds of dust fell from the ceiling, coating her face.
Forced to “eat dirt,” Qu Qi spat out the dust and grumbled in a small voice, “If you won’t open, then you won’t open. Why get so worked up…”
Stone Door Rage Meter: MAX.
The walls on both sides of the corridor suddenly began to move, groaning as they squeezed toward the middle. The space was contracting; it looked like it intended to squash her flat.
Cold sweat dripped down Qu Qi’s face, her eyes wide. “Little brother, is this really necessary?!” Talk about a sore loser!
She spread her arms and pressed against the walls with all her might, attempting to slow the contraction. However, her strength was like a mantis trying to stop a carriage—completely useless against the closing walls.
In desperation, Qu Qi turned and yelled to the black cat, “Mimi, I can’t hold it! You run first!”
The stone door was feeling smug. It was preparing to enjoy the sight of this ignorant human being pressed into a meat patty when it suddenly saw the black cat step out from behind her.
The cat extended a front paw and pressed it lightly against the door.
Stone Door: “!”
It stammered, “Sheng, Sheng.”
Qu Qi, watching the previously laughing stone door start to tremble, asked in confusion, “Sheng what?”
In the flickering candlelight, she didn’t see the black cat’s shadow on the wall shift into the form of a woman. The moment those slender fingers were raised, the entire space stopped shaking. A spine-chilling silence swept over them.
The black cat narrowed its eyes. Its pupils were a pure, deep black like a long night without light clearly reflecting the shadow of the stone door. A sudden chill rose in the spirit’s heart.
“Sheng, the rest of the way, you go yourself!” The stone door’s teeth chattered as it slammed itself open. It spoke at lightning speed: “Safe travels to you both, have a wonderful trip!”
Qu Qi: “?” What just happened?
The black cat walked forward calmly, letting out a meow without looking back to signal her to follow.
Qu Qi followed dazed, a realization hitting her late: “Crap, is Mimi actually stronger than me?”
The cat had easily unsheathed her sword, effortlessly pushed open a door she couldn’t budge, and all the ghosts in the mass grave seemed terrified of it. She had thought it was coincidence, but too many coincidences meant a pattern.
Qu Qi stared intensely at the black cat. The more she looked, the more she felt it wasn’t simple. The cat sensed her gaze and tilted its head with a meow.
Looking at that harmless face, Qu Qi fell into deep thought: …Maybe it really is a coincidence?
If the cat were truly that strong, why would it willingly let her pet it and put a bell on its neck? She wasn’t confident enough to think a few days of grooming had made a powerhouse dead set on her.
The Heart of the Tomb
Behind the door was a set of descending stone steps, covered in the same moss as the door along with unknown vines curled in the corners. As they went deeper, the vegetation increased, looking like a bizarre carpet woven by a hook-nosed witch. Eventually, it covered every inch of the stone, staining the ground a dark, slimy green that gave off an inexpressible sense of madness.
Qu Qi stepped carefully on the verdant plants, feeling as though the vines might suddenly spring to life and ensnare her.
In fact, that was exactly what they were thinking. Several vines in the shadows caught the scent of a living being’s fresh blood; their thorn-covered leaves twitched with anticipation. But as the black cat walked past, they suddenly lost all vitality, shrinking back withered and obedient.
Qu Qi safely reached the bottom and saw the soil turn back to a familiar grayish-brown. She breathed a sigh of relief. But when she saw the scene before her, her eyes widened in shock.
In a space many times larger than the corridor hung a floating coffin.
On the ground was a neat circle of white candles burning with eerie crimson flames. The tongues of fire licked hungrily at the red coffin suspended above. Strangely, the coffin seemed to be made of a material that was completely unharmed by the fire.
Surrounding the candles was a massive square pool filled with a churning, deep green liquid. Most terrifyingly, the air was filled with countless taut black silk threads. The lines shimmered with a sharp glint, crossing each other like an intricate spiderweb, woven vertically and horizontally, all of them passing directly through the red coffin.
The moment Qu Qi saw the coffin, her heart throbbed for some reason.
Those threads were passing through the coffin so tightly—wouldn’t the person inside be sliced into pieces? What kind of person would build a tomb like this, making the owner suffer even in death?
If anyone knowledgeable in arrays were here, they would recognize this setup as a formation. Legend says it was created by a Southland woman abandoned by her lover; filled with resentment, it was the most poisonous and frantic array in the world, designed to trap a soul so it could never rest in peace.
The Binding-Kill Array.
With the coffin as the eye and the five elements as the foundation: the silk threads were Gold, the vines were Wood, the pool was Water, the candles were Fire, and the ground was Earth. The five elements reinforced and countered each other, creating a cycle where not a single part could be missing.
The black cat stopped before the water, gazing at the red coffin. A trace of killing intent flickered in its eyes.
Its true body had been sealed here for nearly a hundred years. Its core had been cut out, its spiritual residence destroyed, and its soul scattered, leaving only a remnant primordial spirit to survive in this feline form. For a century, it had fought day and night against the malevolent spirits here. It had killed so many ghosts and heard so many screams of agony that it had become the ultimate fear in the hearts of the dead.
Even so, its spirit form was restricted by the Binding-Kill Array. It could not destroy the foundation itself. It needed a person to help it escape. But every disciple sent to guard this place had been too dutiful to approach the depths of the graveyard.
The cat had thought all hope was lost until Qu Qi appeared. Her every move exceeded its expectations. It was impressed that the current Sword Inquiry Sect could actually produce such a… “peculiar” disciple.
At this moment, she was its only hope.
Qu Qi walked to the cat’s side to look at the coffin up close. Her face was full of astonishment, her fox-eyes wide as if she were seeing something truly horrifying.
The black cat twitched its ears, hearing the girl’s soft murmur: “The owner of this tomb must be in so much pain… the people who built this place are truly insane.”
It froze in place, its entire body tensing slightly.
Through every long day and night, pain had been its shadow. Scabs fell off only to be replaced by new wounds; the gazes of the dead were filled with hostility and dread, and a bone-chilling cold constantly rattled its crumbling nerves.
It thought it was strong enough to endure all of this alone.
But no one had ever said to it: You must be in a lot of pain, right? The people who bullied you are so cruel.
“Mimi?” Qu Qi looked down at it. “What’s wrong?”
The girl stood there quietly, dressed in plain white robes, her eyes curved with a smile. In the dim, cold tomb, she was like a beam of light—tiny, but bright enough to illuminate the haze surrounding it.
The black cat looked up at her light and suddenly understood why moths were willing to throw themselves into the flames.
Seeking light is likely the instinct of all living things.
Qu Qi squatted down. She instinctively felt that the black cat seemed unhappy, even though its face remained expressionless. She gently rubbed its head; this time, the cat didn’t resist. It narrowed its eyes, almost submissively letting her ruffle its fur.
After petting the cat and feeling its mood improve, Qu Qi let go. She rested her chin on her arms, tilting her head as she asked, “What should I do now?”
Her eyes were clear and her voice was as soft as if she were coaxing a child. The cat’s ears flickered as it looked toward the center. “Meow.”
Qu Qi followed its gaze and saw the circle of burning white candles.
“Do you want me to put out the candles?”
Black Cat: “Meow.”
The elemental placement of the Binding-Kill Array was of paramount importance. As long as the formation was disrupted, the array would be broken and the seal lifted.
Seeing its gesture of approval, Qu Qi nodded understandingly. She prided herself on never failing to get the gist of the cat’s thoughts, so she immediately patted her chest: “Just watch, I’ll arrange it right now.”
Recalling Qu Qi’s series of embarrassing actions from before, the black cat fell into a silence: …I have a feeling this won’t be reliable.
Qu Qi pondered for a moment, then rummaged through her storage space to pull out a washbasin. She used it to scoop some liquid from the square pool. The green liquid surged with snowy white foam, emitting a foul odor.
Qu Qi pinched her nose, her voice sounding muffled: “What kind of water is this… so gross, like it was scooped out of a toilet.” Holding the basin like a hot potato, she quickly splashed it toward the candle flames.
With a sharp whoosh, the tongues of fire on the candles actually flared up even brighter, showing signs of nearly engulfing the coffin.
Qu Qi: “!?” Black Cat: “???”
Qu Qi dropped the basin and gave a sheepish smile: “Uh, I didn’t expect this water to be so unreliable… the person inside won’t be roasted well-done, will they?”
The black cat stared at her silently.
Qu Qi translated that look as: “If you don’t find a solution, I’ll roast you first.”
Qu Qi: “Ahem, it’s not a big deal. Actually, I came prepared!”
She had a habit of storing water, often carrying a bamboo tube filled with warm boiled water so she could drink whenever she was thirsty on the road. Qu Qi took out the bamboo tube, unscrewed the wooden cap, and splashed the fresh water into the center.
After a sizzle and a puff of white smoke, the candle flames were completely extinguished.
Qu Qi lifted her head proudly, seeking credit from the “Cat Master” beside her. “How about that? Pretty impressive move, right!”
Before she could finish, her vision suddenly went black. Like a puppet with its strings cut, she collapsed onto the ground.
At the same time, the entire tomb began to shake violently. The pool water stopped churning, the overgrown vines withered and died, and the black threads snapped one after another, littering the ground in a mess. The spirits above sensed the danger and let out piercing, ear-splitting shrieks.
It felt as if the entire world was falling apart in an instant.
Amidst the chaos, the black cat extended a paw and lightly tapped Qu Qi between her brows. The black shadow on the ground seemed to take on a solid form; a pair of large hands emerged from it, gently but firmly dragging the unconscious girl deep into the shadows.
The cat withdrew its gaze and stood alone in the collapsing, dark tomb. It watched as the vivid red coffin descended from the air, landed steadily on the ground, and silently opened.
The black cat stepped forward and leapt inside.