Chap 10: Trapped Beneath the Dragon Stones

 

Yan Dan crouched low, secretly channeling her magic to heal the bruises from her fall.

Tang Zhou, unsympathetic, assumed she was only trying to frighten him with the skull. His voice was cold, repeating the same threat he had used countless times before—he would seal her into a magical tool.

Heaven is truly unfair, Yan Dan thought bitterly.

From three steps away, Tang Zhou asked flatly,

“Have you rested?”

Yan Dan ignored him.

His tone softened.

“We should go.”

Still, she didn’t move.

With a sigh, Tang Zhou strode forward, seized her arm, and dragged her along. Yan Dan resisted, then suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering with feigned tenderness,

“Brother, when we trained in the mountains, we were childhood sweethearts. Now that another woman walks beside you, will you really break the vows we once made?”

Tang Zhou stared at her in silence. Yan Dan’s sigh carried both anger and sorrow. Without a word, he released her, letting her fall hard to the ground before turning away.

She scrambled up quickly, wiser now, keeping four steps behind the pair ahead—far enough to avoid another fall, close enough not to be left behind. Her body ached, and she muttered under her breath,

“You react so strongly to my jokes, yet when you tease me, you’re never polite…”

Dark thoughts flickered through her mind: one day, when she mastered infinite magic, she would chop Tang Zhou into pieces, soak him in salt water, and bury him alive. The fantasy soothed her resentment, if only a little.

The tunnel stretched long and narrow until it split into two identical paths. Yan Dan’s sharp eyes caught the danger above: dragon‑breaking stones poised to fall at the slightest trigger. Both passages were death traps.

Tang Zhou asked,

“Which path will you choose?”

Yan Dan lifted her chin.

“Neither. I’ll sit here.”

“Then take the right path,” Tang Zhou replied calmly. “Perhaps the two connect.”

Yan Dan sighed. With no power to resist, she followed. Once glorious, now oppressed by a mere mortal… my past is already half buried, she thought bitterly.

The right path ended quickly, opening into a tomb chamber. Yan Dan gasped.

“How elegant!”

Unlike the dazzling pearl‑lit halls before, this chamber was simple yet refined. Xiangfei bamboo tables and chairs, blue‑and‑white porcelain, white pottery vases, and a seven‑string guqin adorned the room. A chessboard lay mid‑game, black and white pieces locked in battle.

Tao Ziqi approached the guqin, plucking its strings. The notes rang clear, like pearls striking jade.

“This guqin is paulownia and zelkova. The tone is exquisite—the owner must have been a true master.”

Tang Zhou studied an ink painting on the wall: misty rivers, shadowed mountains, strokes full of grace.

Yan Dan’s gaze lingered on the chessboard, her voice soft.

“The field of life and death, the night of forgetfulness, the road to the underworld.”

Tao Ziqi blinked in confusion.

“What did you just say?”

Yan Dan smiled slyly.

“Miss Tao, do you believe I’ve been to the underworld?”

The color drained from Tao Ziqi’s face, and she sank into a bamboo chair, trembling.

Tang Zhou’s voice was sharp.

“Junior sister, it’s too early for dreams.”

Yan Dan raised her hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright—it was only a joke.”

She wandered to the coffee table, where an agarwood incense burner rested. Carved like a lotus, its delicate petals seemed to breathe with life. As her fingers traced the design, she drifted into a trance—bare feet on cold stone, echoes ringing through a silent courtyard.

A sudden chill touched her forehead. She tore away a talisman plastered there, its crooked exorcism script glaring back at her. She crumpled it and hurled it at Tang Zhou.

“You, you, you—!”

Tang Zhou’s tone was grave.

“Your expression wasn’t right. I thought you were possessed.”

Yan Dan turned away, sulking.

Tao Ziqi giggled softly.

“Master Tang, your junior sister is so cute.”

Tang Zhou gave a reserved smile.

“She’s spoiled and temperamental.”

Yan Dan fumed silently. If this pampering continues, I’ll explode.

Tang Zhou broke the tension.

“There’s no way out here. Let’s return.”

Back at the fork, Tao Ziqi suddenly paled, clutching her hair.

“My hairpin—it’s gone! It must have fallen in the chamber. It’s the only thing my mother left me…”

Tang Zhou said gently,

“Rest here. I’ll fetch it.”

As he left, Yan Dan’s eyes narrowed.

“Brother, have you considered Miss Tao’s story might be false? Perhaps she’s no victim, but a drought demon in disguise.”

Tang Zhou dismissed it.

“She has no demonic aura.”

Yan Dan thrust her wrist toward him.

“Smell mine. I don’t either.”

He frowned after sniffing.

“No aura… but a lotus scent. Is your true form Handan?”

They returned to the chamber and found the crude hairpin on a chair. Yan Dan pointed upward.

“See the Thousand‑Pound Dragon‑Breaking Stone? Black iron. Once it falls, no one escapes. Guess when it’ll drop?”

As if on cue, the walls rumbled. Stones crashed down, the tunnel quaking. Tang Zhou seized her wrist, pulling her forward as rubble thundered behind them. At the exit, a massive slab descended.

“Go first!” he shouted, shoving her ahead.

Another stone plummeted. Tang Zhou rolled back, narrowly avoiding death. Darkness swallowed him.

He struck the slab with his scabbard—metal rang. Black iron.

Yan Dan’s voice echoed in the dark.

“The worst evildoers aren’t demons, but humans. Do you believe that now?”

Tang Zhou startled.

“Why are you here too?”

Yan Dan’s smile was audible.

“Let me explain. Perhaps Miss Tao is in danger outside as well.”

Tang Zhou frowned.

“You mean she didn’t set the trap?”

Yan Dan shrugged.

“How should I know? Does it matter?”

Confusion gnawed at him. Friend or foe—truth or illusion—nothing was certain.

Yan Dan leaned against the stone.

“It’s getting stuffy. Soon we’ll be like the goddess of this cemetery—buried alive.”

Tang Zhou murmured,

“I implicated you. You could have escaped.”

She laughed softly.

“You bound me with your five‑step restriction. Escape isn’t an option. If you feel guilty, release me.”

He gripped her shoulders.

“If I remove it, you’ll leave.”

Yan Dan pouted.

“Men and women shouldn’t be so close. Let’s negotiate.”

He sneered.

“Why should I?”

She smirked.

“Because I can last twenty days without food or water. Can you?”

The silence stretched until Tang Zhou finally asked,

“What are your terms?”

Yan Dan savored her advantage.

“Tell me if my companion is safe. Be honest, and I’ll get you out.”

Tang Zhou blinked.

“I didn’t try to retrieve him. The fish spirit escaped into the river. Would I have jumped in after it?”

Yan Dan muttered, half‑relieved, half‑resentful.

“Yu Mo… lucky bastard.”

She steadied herself against the stone.

“Wait—someone’s coming.”

The slab above groaned, rising slowly. A girl’s face appeared, bright as spring.

“The bird said someone was trapped here. It told me you weren’t bad people—so I came to rescue you.”

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