Complete silence.

After a moment, with a scraping sound, a fire stick lit up, and behind the firelight was the vague outline of Feng Huan’s refined face.

The young master stood there foolishly, looking at his companions sprawled everywhere on the ground, while insects flowing like black water across the floor continued streaming in all directions. But those thin rivulets naturally parted when they reached his feet, then rejoined behind him, as if deliberately avoiding him.

The walls carved with murals and dragon patterns also seemed to be emitting smoke, making even the view hazy.

Feng Huan clearly didn’t understand what had happened. Seeing all his companions collapsed just made him panic, so he hurried to pat Li Yuncheng’s head and help up the fallen Mu Si: “What’s wrong with you all? Are you poisoned? Then why aren’t I poisoned?”

He suddenly remembered carrying some antidotes, since after all he’d lived among the demon tribes, and Murong Yi had given him some when they left. Not understanding proper antidotes, he randomly pulled out a yellow-green paper that gave off an astringent smell and burned it. Wisps of smoke drifted into the nostrils of the unconscious people, and the blue-black aura on their faces gradually faded, but they didn’t wake up. After a while, the black qi disappeared, but their faces grew redder and redder—clearly they’d been poisoned by something else.

Feng Huan was dumbfounded and didn’t dare experiment further, suddenly regretting that when A’Ji had offered to teach him about poisons and antidotes among the demon tribes, he’d refused to learn.

He wondered if he should run back and call the people above to come down and rescue them, but when he reached the tomb chamber entrance, he froze. Three identical-looking paths lay before him—which path had they come from?

He’d followed the others in a daze—when had he ever paid attention to the route?

Would he have to watch these people die helplessly, then be trapped here to die himself? Feng Huan looked around the tomb chamber, feeling this way of dying was too miserable.

When it rains, it pours—just then he suddenly heard footsteps and the sound of conversation…

“The warning insects signal someone has entered the tomb chamber.”

“Just as our young master predicted. The Crown Princess indeed sent people to rob the grave—truly bold and sinister.”

“Haven’t they fallen right into our young master’s trap? Since people have come, they surely can’t escape the insect coffin and wall incense. Perfect—we’ll keep them here and send them to Kun Zhou, let the Yannan people see how the dignified Crown Prince secretly sends people to rob our Prince of Yannan’s tomb. Such madness—the Yannan people will ensure she can come but never leave.”

“Robbing ancestral graves brings heaven’s punishment. The Crown Princess acting thus, dying from popular fury—even the court would have nothing to say.”

“You needn’t worry about that. Our young master has mutual support with certain old ministers, so naturally someone will speak fair words about this matter. The people,激于义愤, triggered riots, and the Crown Princess died among the unruly masses—this is popular will and human hearts. Though the Commander and our young master tried their best to suppress it, they were still powerless to prevent disaster. This can’t be blamed on us.”

“So what’s this called for the Crown Princess? Trying to steal a chicken but losing the rice?”

“That news was released by our young master in the first place—cast the bait, and you needn’t fear hooking big fish, right?”

A burst of satisfied laughter.

Feng Huan’s head buzzed. Growing up in silk and jewels, the greatest hardship he’d endured was working for A’Ji among the demon tribes, and the biggest decision he’d faced was considering how to explain to his father if A’Ji insisted on marrying him. Apart from that, he was a typical carefree wastrel who’d never made any decision involving many people’s lives, including his own. But he knew he had to decide now. The conspiracy was right before his eyes, yet their path was already cut off. They’d come on the Crown Princess’s mission, never expecting this was a carefully laid trap, and the outcome was right before them, so clear.

Either die here, or be captured and die in the angry Yannan mob, dragging Tie Ci and the others down too.

To say he felt no resentment was impossible—the Crown Princess had fallen into another of the You father and son’s traps, dooming these dozen people. But complaining was useless now. Footsteps echoed in the long, deep passage, growing closer.

Feng Huan’s mind went blank. At this moment he thought: if only someone could wake up and help him decide.

He groped randomly in his robes and pulled out a small bottle, vaguely remembering it was something A’Ji had tossed to him one day. Because this bottle had a peculiar fragrance he quite liked—one of the few refined things among the demon tribes—he’d kept it. Now not caring about anything else, he pulled it out and held it under Li Yuncheng’s nose. Looking at Li Yuncheng’s flushed face, he thought that since they were all going to die anyway, it didn’t matter if there was one more way to die.

The footsteps turned this way and that. Though the sound hadn’t been far before, the people still hadn’t arrived. Only now did Feng Huan realize how winding and deep the paths in this royal tomb were, secretly conforming to battle formations. He only remembered walking for a long time before, but he’d been too scared to notice.

So there was still time to wake Li Yuncheng.

Li Yuncheng indeed opened his eyes, sneezing before even opening them fully and actually sneezing out black blood that splattered Feng Huan’s hand. Feng Huan quietly wiped it off on his robe, deciding not to tell Old Li.

He whispered in Li Yuncheng’s ear: “We’ve been tricked. This is a trap. Now the You father and son’s people have come to capture us and send us to Kun Zhou.”

Brief and to the point, Li Yuncheng immediately understood upon waking.

He looked at Feng Huan, then at the people sprawled on the ground, listening to the footsteps of many people growing nearer and farther, pressing his lips together in silence.

Feng Huan said: “You come up with a plan. We’re all dead anyway. I want to die gloriously, so my old man finally has a chance to boast about me in this lifetime.”

Li Yuncheng glanced at him, very much wanting to say that being captured and killed by furious people would definitely not be any glorious way to die. But he really wasn’t in the mood to discuss this with this fool right now. After brief silence, he said: “We might not die.”

Joy flashed in Feng Huan’s eyes.

“Kill these people, welcome those people, tell them we were forced, we’re willing to testify against the Crown Princess, expose the Crown Princess’s vile behavior of secretly robbing the royal tomb before all people, become the witnesses they need. The people will spare us, the You father and son won’t touch us either—after all, we’re also victims, and they absolutely don’t want to offend your father and mine.”

Feng Huan was stunned speechless.

Very logical, very simple—why hadn’t he thought of it?

He turned to look at those unconscious people, then at the two of them.

“This… this humble consort cannot do it!”

Companions who’d traveled together the whole way—though cold and distant, they’d taken care of him plenty. Just kill them like this?

Li Yuncheng said coldly: “If you want to live, this is the only way. Otherwise, if the You father and son dare kill even the Crown Princess, would they care about your life and mine?”

Feng Huan opened his mouth, then closed it, pleading: “Think again, think again—there must be another way.”

“There is.” Li Yuncheng said even more coldly. “I saw earlier when they opened the main tomb chamber door—it has mechanisms. And this kind of main tomb chamber door definitely has a dead gate that can never be opened again, or what’s called a dragon-breaking stone. We just need to close the door and keep those people outside forever, then they’ll never have the Crown Princess’s fatal evidence.”

Feng Huan’s gaze turned dully toward the entrance.

Keeping people outside forever naturally meant keeping themselves inside forever.

Li Yuncheng said: “There’s no time to hesitate—they’re almost here.”

Indeed, this time the footsteps were no longer distant and near, but very clear now, just not visible due to the tomb passage layout.

Deathly silence.

Li Yuncheng pulled out a small book from his robes, gently stroking it.

He loved books like life itself, always carrying one. Because books were inconvenient to carry, he’d bound and copied several small books himself to keep with him. When troubled, lonely, happy, or bored, he’d always take them out to touch. Others touched women and felt stirred—he felt the same way touching books.

Standing there stupidly, Feng Huan suddenly said: “Where’s the door mechanism?”

Li Yuncheng, head down stroking his book, showed a half-mocking, half-indifferent smile and pointed at the wall.

Feng Huan stood before the door, looking up at that dragon’s eye point. His finger was already pressed against it, but he couldn’t force himself to push for a long time.

This push would cut off all hope of life, and in the most miserable way he feared most—dying in someone else’s gloomy tomb, of hunger and thirst, without coffin or grave or anyone knowing. Though there were other companions, this was even more terrifying. In those miscellaneous books he’d read, when groups of people were trapped somewhere without water or food, most ended up killing each other and eating human flesh and blood. He, Feng Huan, was weak as a chicken—those black-clad people were all experts. Who would be eaten first didn’t require much thought.

By then he could probably only kill himself first—being eaten after death was better than being eaten alive.

Thinking of such hellish scenes, Feng Huan first shivered.

He felt he wasn’t afraid of death, but he truly feared dying like this.

Behind him, Li Yuncheng said: “If you don’t dare press it, don’t. People are here. Haven’t you heard ‘better to live miserably than die well’? Besides, it won’t even be a good death.”

Feng Huan looked up—a group of people had already turned around the tomb passage, saw him, and started shouting.

In that instant, Feng Huan’s mind buzzed, thinking nothing, his finger pressed down.

Thunderous roar.

The dragon-breaking stone fell.

Smoke and dust scattered everywhere.