For a long moment, nothing happened.

  No darts. No poison mist. No rumbling cave-in.

  I let out a long breath and slumped against the side of the coffin.

  I lifted the silver box again, my heart still thudding.

  Calling it a “silver box” was generous; it didn’t shine like jewelry at all. The surface was dark, almost as if the thing had been buried for centuries, covered in a chalky layer of corrosion.

  But the rust wiped off easily. Underneath was a web of tiny, intricate engravings—so fine it looked like someone had spent a lifetime carving it with the tip of a needle. Patterns twisted and knotted into each other, not flowers or beasts, but strange, looping shapes—vine-like, snake-like, forming tight little coils that vaguely lined up like a formation.

  I traced the grooves with my fingertip and felt subtle rises and dips—parts that seemed like they could move.

  My stomach dropped.

  Great. An actual puzzle box?

  I tried turning one of the raised parts. Nothing. Everything was jammed tight. I tried prying the lid, picking at the edges with my nail—completely sealed.

  That made me even more anxious.

  If it won’t open, then what is it for? What’s inside? If it was meant to be a burial treasure, shouldn’t there be some way to open it?

  Thump.

  A low sound snapped me out of my thoughts. My hand jerked, and I almost dropped the box.

  I turned just in time to see Fang Mei lowering its head and industriously digging a hole in the dirt, sending dust flying like a possessed groundhog.

  I blinked.

  What… was it doing?

  Then Fang Mei nudged my hand again. Hard.

  “You… want me to get on you again?” I asked, uncertain.

  Fang Mei flicked its ears, bared its teeth, and flashed an entire row of razor-white fangs.

  A cold chill crawled down my spine.

  No way. Not now. This place was already a death trap, and I still had Hua and Lian knocked out on the ground. I was in no state to do any kind of wall-running acrobatics again.

  I looked at the two of them. Still out cold, not even twitching.

  Panic tightened my chest. I waved both hands frantically.

  “No, nope, not happening. I’m not going anywhere! They’re still unconscious!”

  Fang Mei clearly didn’t care what I was saying; it only dug faster. Its tail lashed wildly, kicking up a storm of dust.

  I backed up a step, clutching the box.

  “Stop—stop! I’m not going! Calm down!”

  Fang Mei growled low, sounding one second away from biting me. My scalp prickled, but I held my ground.

  Truthfully, I was terrified.

  Where was it planning to take me? What if it was somewhere even more dangerous? My tiny mortal frame did not have the insurance coverage for this.

  Before I could finish panicking, there was a sharp whoosh. Fang Mei dipped its head and suddenly launched me off the floor like a catapult.

  I didn’t even have time to scream—I landed right on its back. The silver box almost flew from my hands; I hugged it tight and grabbed fistfuls of its fur.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  In the very next instant Fang Mei tucked its limbs and leapt.

  Straight toward the stone wall.

  “Hey—HEY—slow down—!”

  I didn’t even get to finish yelling. Wind roared past my ears; then everything went black as we shot into a narrow tunnel barely wide enough for one person.

  I flattened myself against its back, face buried in its fur, nose getting scraped raw while the stone ceiling skimmed the top of my head. Dust and grit rained down my collar, icy against my skin.

  The darkness was absolute.

  All I could hear was Fang Mei’s heavy breathing and the scrape of claws gripping stone.

  My heartbeat seesawed wildly.

  Please don’t let us get stuck.

  Please don’t let me die wedged in here like a badly stored jar of pickles.

  I clung to its fur with both arms, hardly daring to breathe.

  I had no idea how long we climbed, but eventually the rushing wind faded.

  I opened my eyes cautiously. A faint light seeped through.

  Fang Mei jumped down into a space far wider than the tunnel. I pitched forward and almost face-planted.

  We were inside a stone chamber. Smoothly cut walls, clearly man-made. Embedded in the walls were pale yellow night-stones, casting a cold, ghostly light that made the air seem thin and the shadows sharp.

  I was about to catch my breath when I saw what lay in the center.

  A corpse.

  Just lying there.

  I froze mid-inhale.

  The figure wore a gilded crown, held in place by a delicate golden chin-rest that kept the decayed jaw from falling loose.

  The skull’s teeth were perfectly aligned, giving the unsettling impression of a grin.

  Most of his robes had long since rotted away, leaving only faded threads. But the golden belt at his waist still shone brilliantly, every tiny motif crisp and clear.

  There was no coffin—he simply lay on a stone bed, hands folded serenely over his abdomen. Too serene.

  A shiver ran down my spine. I stepped back—only for Fang Mei’s tail to tap my leg, nudging me forward.

  “You… want me to look at him?” I swallowed hard.

  The place was full of drifting cold air, the night-stones casting a halo over the bones like they might reassemble themselves any second.

  My knees were soft, but I forced myself forward.

  The closer I got, the worse the feeling grew.

  The golden crown sat perfectly atop the skull, its filigree pristine, as if time itself was afraid to touch it.

  Could this be… the tomb owner?

  My throat tightened. I glanced around the chamber. Strange items sat in the corners—some like weapons, some like ritual tools—each buried in dust. Only the crown and belt looked as though they’d just been placed.

  The silver box in my arms was suddenly freezing cold.

  A thought struck me—ridiculous, yet somehow logical.

  Could this box… have belonged to him?

  I stared at the box. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.

  My palms were slick with sweat as I lifted it and edged closer to the stone bed.

  Holding my breath, I set the box carefully on his chest.

  Nothing.

  I frowned and nudged it, aligning it perfectly.

  Still nothing.

  Puzzled, I tried placing it in his hands, arranging the bones to “hold” it.

  Nothing. Not even a flicker.

  “…Hey, is this even yours?” I muttered under my breath.

  My voice echoed through the stone chamber, making my skin crawl.

  I stepped back, hands on my hips.

  “Fine. If you don’t want me messing with it, I’ll just take it back.”

  I scooped the box back into my arms.

  Click.

  A soft sound came from the wall.

  I nearly shot straight into the ceiling. “What?!”

  Fang Mei snapped its head up, ears pointed.

  I stared around wildly. One of the dusty bricks was sinking inward, as if a mechanism had just been triggered.

  Then came a cascade of clicks, echoing through the chamber, followed by a deep rumble.

  I fell straight onto my backside.

  “No way—no way! I didn’t do anything! I just—just took it back!”

  The system finally chimed in, perfectly calm.

  [If anything, this proves it isn’t the box. It’s you who triggered it.]

  “Bullshit! If I’m the trigger, then why give me the box in the first place?!” I yelled.

  “You could’ve saved me the heart attack!”

  [Plot progression.]

  The system sounded bored.

  “You—!” I spluttered, grinding my teeth.

  But before I could continue, the ground trembled. The corpse’s chest suddenly rose—no, more accurately, the ribcage was being lifted by some unseen force, like it was trying to sit up.

  “Whoa whoa whoa—don’t—DON’T!” I scrambled back.

  “I came here to loot a tomb, not to watch someone un-die!”

  Fang Mei leapt forward, eyes locked on the corpse, muscles tensed.

  I clutched the box tighter, heart climbing up my throat.

  Another sharp click.

  The ribcage dropped back down.

  But this time, something slid loose between the bones.

  A thin metal sliver clattered onto the floor, catching the cold light.

  I stared, stunned, then rushed forward to pick it up.

  It was a small, slender key.