Yan Hong Sha jumped up as if stung by a scorpion, turning to flee immediately.

She ran at full sprint, panicked and flustered, her plastic raincoat rustling loudly at her elbows and knees. By the time her mind cleared somewhat, she was already at least a hundred meters away.

Hong Sha cursed herself: Why was she running? She was someone who had experienced plenty!

Indeed, she had seen it all—seas, mountains, old clams, wild men—what situation hadn’t she encountered?

She commanded herself to stop and turn back to look.

The shopkeeper had warned her against crossing the mountain because after the heavy rain, followed by continuous light rain, landslides and mudflows were too likely—could that person have also stubbornly taken the mountain path, but with worse luck than hers, and ended up buried?

The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Thinking back, when she pressed down, though the touch was ice-cold, there was still a hint of warmth in the soft flesh.

Perhaps they were recently buried and not yet dead.

This thought made her scalp tingle. Her position now was awkward, neither forward nor back. Going to the village for help or returning to the sundry shop would waste too much time. Hong Sha made up her mind and hurriedly stumbled back.

In just this short time, the rain had washed the hand more clearly visible—pale, but with distinct and slender joints, unlike the hand of someone who regularly performed farm work.

Hong Sha didn’t dare touch it directly. She wrapped the hem of her raincoat around her hand, pulled it up, then quickly let go.

She realized that while the hand was here, the person was buried under the rocks beside it—a pile of crushed stones mixed with mud. Looking closely at the ground, she saw the stones were unstably stacked, with gaps of various sizes between them.

Hong Sha’s heart pounded fiercely. She swallowed hard, rolled up her sleeves on both arms, and, though trembling, quickly moved the stones one by one, trying to lift and place them gently. She feared that if she moved too forcefully, the entire pile might collapse, further crushing the person underneath.

Who knows how long it took—the sky had darkened. Hong Sha twisted on her small flashlight, biting it between her teeth, as she removed stones piled beside her like a grave mound.

Finally removing the last stone, she quickly took out her flashlight to examine it closely.

It was another hand, bent and covering a face, meaning that most of the person’s body was buried in the soil, with only two hands and half a face above the soil layer, and one hand was protecting the face.

Hong Sha grew frightened, feeling that she might know this person.

There was a bloody smell; the muddy water accumulated around the person’s head and face seemed mixed with blood. Hong Sha wiped her face with her hand, leaving muddy streaks across her fair skin.

Trembling, she removed the hand covering her face.

As her gaze fell upon it, her mind buzzed, and tears instantly burst forth. She slapped the face hard, asking, “Yi Wansan, are you dead? You can’t be dead, right?”

With the stones removed, only mud remained pressing on Yi Wansan’s body. Hong Sha choked back sobs as she scraped away the soil covering him, bent down to press her ear against his chest to listen, then placed her hand under his nose to check.

Whether due to the rain interfering with her judgment or her panicked state of mind, she couldn’t seem to detect his breath. Her mind went blank, and she tried everything—pulling up his clothes, frantically rubbing his chest, pressing down with interlaced hands, even slapping his face. While slapping and crying, she suddenly heard Yi Wansan groan after an unknown number of slaps.

Hong Sha froze for a long moment, vaguely feeling she had misheard.

Rain streamed down Yi Wansan’s face. When a cold wind blew by, she shuddered all over, instinctively standing up. Half-dragging and half-lifting, she propped Yi Wansan against a rock, then took off her raincoat and put it on him.

She wasn’t stupid. With Cao Yanhua and the others entering the village one after another and losing contact, and now Yi Wansan in this state, she suddenly felt immense fear toward Cao Family Village. Even the small sundry shop took on a sinister appearance.

She needed to get Yi Wansan to a safe place, or at least somewhere out of the rain. At this moment, Luo Ren’s car was the best option.

She found a tree branch and poked around the area, making sure no one else was buried nearby, then tried to carry Yi Wansan on her back. But in his unconscious state, his arms couldn’t hold onto her neck. He was also taller than her, so as soon as she lifted him, his feet dragged on the ground.

People become resourceful in emergencies. Remembering the rope in her tactical bag, Hong Sha quickly took it out. First, she positioned Yi Wansan’s body on her back, then tied the rope around both their waists. She bound his hands together, connecting them to the waist rope, hung the tactical bag from her neck, gritted her teeth, and supported each of his legs with her hands, mustering her strength to stand up.

He was truly heavy, dead weight.

Hong Sha couldn’t even straighten her back, forced to walk in a half-bent position with him on her back. The ground mud seemed even worse now, sinking to her ankles with each step. Yi Wansan kept sliding down, forcing Hong Sha to boost him up by his buttocks every so often.

His head hung beside hers, with a strong smell of blood.

Hong Sha kept talking to him, her face wet with rain and tears.

She asked him: “What happened?”

“Where is Cao Fatty? Where is Mu Dai?”

“Yi Wansan, you can’t die.”

She repeated these few sentences over and over, and when she finished, she cried. She feared and hated this isolated state of not knowing her companions’ fate. If she had known, she wouldn’t have stubbornly stayed in Kunming to deal with her family’s debts. How much better it would have been to come with Luo Ren—at least they could have faced things together.

The rain grew heavier, pattering on the raincoat. Hong Sha was so exhausted she could barely move. She stopped to catch her breath in great gulps, suddenly noticing a faint warmth on her cheek.

She was confused for a long while before realizing: it was Yi Wansan’s breath.

This realization filled her with joy. She licked her lips, drinking the rainwater from them, and somehow felt a surge of strength.

She kept her head down, trudging forward with effort. When passing the small sundry shop, she saw that all the lights were off.

How late was it?

Finally reaching the Hummer, she found the key, opened the door, and helped Yi Wansan into the passenger seat. Only then did she check the time.

It was after nine in the evening.

She didn’t rest, instead finding a thermal blanket in the rear compartment. She removed Yi Wansan’s upper clothing, dried him off, and wrapped him in the blanket. Then she took some gauze, moistened it with mineral water, and cleaned his face and head.

The injury was at the back of his head, apparently from being hit by a stone. When she touched it, her hand was covered with blood. It needed bandaging, but she didn’t know where to start—Hong Sha made a bold decision, unwrapping a roll of bandages and winding them around his head, leaving only his nose, eyes, lips, and ears exposed.

Looking at him, she found it amusing, like an ancient Egyptian mummy. Halfway through her laugh, she felt like crying again. She took out her phone, raising it high and low, trying to get a signal.

The signal indicator wavered between present and absent, frustratingly weak. Hong Sha leaned against the driver’s seat, staring blankly. Her eyelids felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, and she dozed off the moment they closed.

In her drowsiness, she seemed to hear Yi Wansan curse: “Damn!”

Hong Sha startled awake and turned to see Yi Wansan indeed sitting up slightly.

She was so happy she almost cried: “Are you alright?”

With bandages covering his upper and lower eyelids, Yi Wansan’s eyes seemed much smaller. His lips were also bound by the bandages, making his voice sound strange.

He said weakly: “I fought to stay alive with everything I had, then open my eyes only to nearly die of fright…”

He asked: “Is there water?”

Hong Sha opened a bottle and handed it to him. Yi Wansan took a few difficult sips, looked around, a bit confused about the situation: “Why are you here? Where’s Luo Ren?”

He tried to lean back, but when his head touched the headrest, the pain made him gasp. He had to turn and lean sideways instead.

Not wanting him to talk too much and tire himself, Hong Sha quickly told him what had happened in the past two days. When she mentioned that Luo Ren hadn’t contacted her either, Yi Wansan’s expression suddenly changed.

Of course, only he knew about this change—with the bandages, Hong Sha couldn’t see anything.

He interrupted her: “You need to find Luo Ren quickly. Tell him that Qing Shan is suspicious; the fifth death talisman might be on him.”

That night, Yi Wansan had been staying awake, waiting for Mu Dai. Hearing movement, he happily poked his head out from under the covers: “Little Innkeeper, you’re back?”

He quickly realized something was wrong. If Mu Dai had returned, why wouldn’t she turn on the lights? Besides, that dark figure standing at the bedside, frail and small, didn’t resemble Mu Dai at all.

Yi Wansan reacted quickly, jumping out of bed, tossing the quilt over the person, and pulling the cord by the bed. As the light came on, he saw a tin bucket on the floor, promptly picking it up to shield his chest, regardless of who had come, “Better you die than me” was Yi Wansan’s constant principle. In critical moments, he could use the bucket as a weapon.

He saw the visitor clearly—a girl about eighteen or nineteen, with pale skin and seemingly tear-filled eyes. The thrown quilt had collapsed in front of her, missing its mark.

Yi Wansan was certain he had never seen her before: “Who are you?”

Suddenly remembering Mu Dai’s description of Ya Feng, the appearance and age matched, plus this was Qing Shan’s home.

“Ya Feng?”

Ya Feng’s lips quivered, her hands at her sides trembling slightly as she said softly: “You need to leave now.”

What was this about? Yi Wansan didn’t understand.

“Leave quickly, or it will be too late.”

Though not understanding the situation, a chill ran up his spine at these words.

Someone seemed to be getting up in the opposite wing, with coughing sounds accompanied by a light turning on. Ya Feng, like a startled bird, turned and fled. At the doorway, she quickly looked back and left a final message: “Don’t trust them.”

By the time Yi Wansan reacted and followed, Ya Feng had disappeared.

This sudden warning left Yi Wansan unable to sleep. For him, regardless of whether there was danger here, “staying away” was always the right choice.

He quickly packed his belongings, intending to leave when Mu Dai returned.

After waiting and waiting with no sign of Mu Dai, by around two in the morning, Yi Wansan couldn’t sit still any longer.

Something must have happened. Neither Mu Dai nor Luo Ren was the type to exchange sweet nothings endlessly, and Luo Ren, knowing that Mu Dai had gone out alone at night to make a phone call, would surely have her return quickly.

What could he do?

His statement, “I’m not as skilled as you in martial arts, I run slower, I’m more timid, and I’m afraid of the dark,” was heartfelt. If something had happened and even Mu Dai had fallen into trouble, wouldn’t his going just add to the casualties? Better to preserve his strength for later backup.

That was his reasoning, but ten minutes later, half-kneeling with his buttocks up, he pulled a rusty sickle from under the bed and went out anyway.

He couldn’t handle a direct fight, but what if he could help by finding a gap? What if Mu Dai was in trouble, lying somewhere in the wild mountains, barely alive, and he arrived in time to save her?

He jogged along, nervous, constantly looking back, always suspecting someone was following him. Unexpectedly, while there was no one behind him, a ghost blocked his path ahead.

Hong Sha cautiously asked: “Qing Shan?”

Yi Wansan nodded.

In the darkness, Qing Shan was crouching not far ahead, frantically digging at the ground with clumps of soil flying around him. Yi Wansan tremblingly shone his flashlight in that direction. Qing Shan stopped, stood up, shielding his eyes, and revealed a hideous smile.

The pit he had dug at his feet was nearly formed—narrow, elongated, just the right size for a person to lie in.

Waiting for you to send you to your grave.

Hong Sha listened with her hair standing on end. Without knowing why, she turned off the car lights. In this silent mountain wilderness, having lights on made them feel like targets—it was safer to blend with the darkness.

She asked: “You fought with Qing Shan?”

Yi Wansan gave a bitter smile.

He had wanted to. He’d even gathered the courage from his days as a street ruffian, thinking that since they were about the same age, with Qing Shan empty-handed and himself at least having a sickle, he might have a chance to fight his way out, but…

That night, Qing Shan had been terrifyingly ferocious, completely unlike the good-natured young man in his mid-twenties he’d seen during the day.

Yi Wansan knew he was no match. During their struggle, Qing Shan grabbed a stone and violently struck the back of Yi Wansan’s head.

Hong Sha listened with bated breath: “Then… what did you do?”

Yi Wansan smiled slightly and said, “I played dead.”

At that time, his consciousness was hazy, but he could still move and crawl. However, he did nothing, gritting his teeth and remaining completely still.

If he moved, without a doubt, he would face another blow. If he didn’t move, there might still be a chance.

Qing Shan didn’t strike him again. Perhaps he thought it wouldn’t be fun if he killed him.

He buried Yi Wansan alive.

First, he threw him into the pit, gathered the soil dug from around the edges, and dumped it all over him, covering his face.

Yi Wansan endured without moving. Then, he felt a thunderous collapse from above.

Hong Sha recalled the terrain she had seen: Qing Shan had first buried Yi Wansan, then deliberately pushed down the unstable mud and rocks from above, literally creating a grave for Yi Wansan—this was almost beyond normal human capability, no wonder Yi Wansan suspected he had the death talisman.

What happened next?

“After I couldn’t hold my breath any longer, I kept moving my arms very slightly, digging out space around my mouth and nose. I was very lucky—as I dug, I suddenly breathed air.”

This was thanks to the falling rocks Qing Shan had pushed down. Many large stones supported each other, creating gaps that gave him a chance to survive, but simultaneously, he couldn’t escape.

What he hadn’t anticipated was that this wasn’t the greatest crisis—more lethal was yesterday’s downpour.

The rain came violently, and more mud slid down from above. At one point, the water level rose so high that it nearly drowned him. He desperately raised his head, one hand protecting his mouth and nose, the other digging into the mud layer, exploring and digging in all possible directions.

Muddy water poured into his nostrils, bubbling. As he struggled to breathe, his mind went blank, and just as he was about to suffocate, he experienced a hallucination.

He saw Luo Ren anxiously kneeling on the ground, desperately coming to clear away the water flow, and then Mu Dai, her eyes filled with fear, grabbing and pulling him back…

After that, he knew nothing.

Hong Sha let out a long sigh: though she knew Yi Wansan was sitting right in front of her, safe and sound, listening to his story still left her heart unsettled.

She patted Yi Wansan’s shoulder: “And then, you found yourself sitting in Luo Ren’s car, excited enough to worship Buddha, right?”

Suddenly remembering something, she climbed over the front seat to the back: “Luo Ren has glucose in the medicine box in the trunk. Yi Wansan, you should drink one, it’s good to replenish your strength…”

Yi Wansan made an agreeable sound but said nothing more.

Hong Sha was wrong.

Actually, when he next awoke, he was on the mountain path. He found himself completely covered in a pink disposable raincoat, with fine rain making streaks of water on the transparent material.

Hong Sha was carrying him on her back, gritting her teeth, her face flushed red with effort, the veins at her temples bulging, all while tears streamed down.

He had never seen her so close before and suddenly felt that this rich lady was quite adorable.

He moved his lips slightly, wanting to say, Put me down.

Just at that moment, Hong Sha suddenly said through her tears:

“Yi Wansan, why are you as heavy as a pig?”

And then, there was no then.