Chapter 230: Great Terror

Chapter 230: The Great Terror

Zhang Yuanqing realized he had mistaken the priority.

Based on his experience at the Mountain God Temple, and the knowledge accumulated from reading countless guides, he subconsciously believed that this kind of survival instance required Spirit Realm Walkers to uncover clues themselves, find methods to cope with crises, and then resolve those crises one by one.

Just as he had done in the Mountain God Temple back then.

Therefore, after successfully surviving the crisis of the Ghost Doll by relying on intelligence, he actively searched for the Rouge Box, convinced it must contain the solution to the Paper Man crisis.

In fact, it was exactly so; he thereby comprehended the pattern that the Paper Man killed one person a night, or ceased killing once its essence blood was sated, and thus survived.

But this was unreasonable; not every Night Wanderer possessed his capital.

One could say, given the difficulty of the first two stages, 99.9% of Night Wanderers could not pass; death was certain, and this wasn't even the instance's greatest crisis.

He had mistaken the priority. Aphasia Village was a survival instance, not a combat instance (though combat was also for survival); survival was the main quest, he shouldn't have fought from the start.

But in the village, not fighting meant not surviving. The elusive Ghost Doll, the instantly teleporting Paper Man—as soon as the time came, an encounter was inevitable; without fighting, there was no survival.

So, the correct playstyle was—leave the village and head for the Ancient Tomb.

Yes, the Ancient Tomb and the village combined constituted the complete map of Aphasia Village.

From the Spirit Realm's introduction, to Wang Xiaosi's account, to the Old Grandpa's description, to Mr. Xu providing the Ancient Tomb's location—these clues were all telling Spirit Realm Walkers that there was another map inside the instance.

The Ancient Tomb was safe, at least at night, it was safe.

Because the Spirit Realm's introduction stated clearly: "That very night, she followed him out..."

The Commandery Princess and the supernatural artifact had both left the Ancient Tomb; now the most dangerous place was the village, the Ancient Tomb was safe instead.

So, the "Run" prompt given by the Cat King Speaker wasn't a method to deal with the Paper Man, but the method to clear this instance.

Having figured it out, Zhang Yuanqing didn't set off immediately; he remained sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking the Cat King Speaker's cold metal shell, muttering to himself:

"There is still a doubt, a question.

"The doubt is that there was no crisis at the third watch, but at the fourth watch all villagers died. Based on existing patterns, the third watch should have been the Mirror, the fourth watch the Commandery Princess; the Commandery Princess is the most ferocious, so the whole village died.

"But there was no crisis at the third watch; so what was the crisis at the fourth watch—the Mirror, or the Commandery Princess? If it was the Mirror, what about the Commandery Princess? Was she merely a background prop?

"The question is: the Ancient Tomb is safe at night, but what about the day? Is the day safe? The main quest is to survive 24 hours, not return to reality at dawn. I entered the instance around ten this morning."

Lacking prior information, he found it hard to deduce the answer; he could only shelve the matter for now, and lead Undead No. 1 out of Mr. Xu's courtyard, heading for the Ancient Tomb.

"Creak—"

Undead No. 1 politely closed the courtyard gate.

Zhang Yuanqing stood by the stream, cautiously scanning his surroundings. Inside the village, rammed-earth huts and stone houses were arranged in disorder; visibility wasn't broad, but his perception detected no powerful Yin Qi converging.

The Paper Man was not nearby.

Leave quickly... he led the corpse running a few steps, then suddenly halted, rooted to the spot.

Zhang Yuanqing encountered a fatal problem—he could no longer distinguish east, south, west, or north.

The usual methods for discerning direction at night are "observing the moon" and "observing the constellations", but the night sky in the instance was dark as ink, devoid of stars and moon.

There were no reference points.

Moreover, the village lacked any living vegetation; one could not deduce the sunlight from the growth of branches and leaves.

"Time passes inside the instance just as it does outside; it is summer now. I recall summer brings southeasterly winds..."

Yet, the village was shrouded in a miasma of yin energy, like an invisible veil of gauze and mist, disrupting the natural wind.

Zhang Yuanqing racked his brains but could devise no good method. He stood dumbfounded, thinking: *I, a top-tier student from the prestigious Songhai University, actually defeated by a trivial detail like this?*

Suddenly, he caught sight of the cheerfully flowing river and thought of an unconventional approach.

River water flows from high to low; where there are mountains, the terrain is higher. Thus, the direction of the stream's flow could be ruled out—the rear mountain was not that way.

Though the river did not necessarily originate from the mountain, walking against the current would at least prevent him from going in the exact opposite direction.

"One li is five hundred meters; twenty-three li is roughly eleven kilometers. Mountain paths are harder than flat ground, plus the time needed to search for the ancient tomb..."

The third watch of the night was drawing near. Zhang Yuanqing calculated silently. Finding the tomb before the third watch would be difficult, but reaching the destination before the fourth watch left ample time.

One man and one corpse walked through the dead silent mountain village. Their footsteps and the cheerful sound of water intertwined into a lonely, monotonous movement, echoing in the silent night.

In such an atmosphere, an ordinary person of weak resolve would suffer a mental breakdown even without any danger.

One had to admit, the Night Wanderer's exclusive Spirit Realm was truly a hellish place.

As he advanced, Zhang Yuanqing kept count. After about fifteen minutes, he finally exited the village. A compacted dirt road led from the village into the fields, and at the fields' end rose a continuous, undulating mountain range.

Majestic and towering, it lay dormant in the darkness.

Fortune favored him; the river did flow out from the mountain... Zhang Yuanqing exhaled a breath.

Suddenly, just as he prepared to leave the village completely and head for the fields, a chill ran down his spine. He sensed a prying gaze from behind.

Zhang Yuanqing whipped around. Behind him lay the desolate, dilapidated mountain village, shrouded in gloomy darkness. The narrow path was quiet, leading deep into the village.

Strange... Zhang Yuanqing frowned inwardly. He lingered no longer, breaking into a rapid run with the Yin Corpse, distancing himself until they vanished into the fields.

Sprinting across one muddy field ridge after another, they soon reached the foot of the mountain.

Once inside the mountain, methods for discerning direction multiplied.

On a lone tree, the sunny side faces south, the shaded side north.

In the dense forest, the drier side of rocks faces south; the damper, moss-covered side faces north... even ant holes (nest entrances) face south with their backs to the north.

Having determined the southwest, Zhang Yuanqing led the Yin Corpse deep into the woods, traversing forests and crossing streams, advancing swiftly.

Every few minutes, he would stop to reorient himself, adjusting his course to avoid getting lost in the lush mountains.

As for the twenty-three li distance, there was no better way; he could only rely on his own estimation.

After running a dozen li or so, Zhang Yuanqing halted beside a pine tree, opening his mouth to expel a mouthful of Yin energy.

The Yin energy drifted down gracefully, condensing into a plump, adorable infant with sparse lanugo.

"Ah-ba, ah-ba..."

The little rascal opened wide, glossy black eyes, surveyed the surroundings, then scrambled fearfully to his master's feet, hugging his calf.

To speak of it, Little Rascal had grown this big—oh, not that big, really—but since his birth, he had never laid eyes on deep mountains and dense forests, and held an instinctive fear of unfamiliar environments.

"Go find the treasure!"

Zhang Yuanqing soothed Little Rascal while issuing the command.

Finding an ancient tomb was no difficult matter; one need only make proper use of Little Rascal's treasure-seeking function to pinpoint the burial chamber's location deep in the mountains—provided, of course, one did not stray too far.

If released in the village, he would most likely go searching for the rouge box.

Upon receiving his master's order, Little Rascal let out a few "aba" sounds and quickly crawled toward Zhang Yuanqing's back.

I told you to find an ancient tomb, not to return to the village for the rouge box... Zhang Yuanqing seized his chubby little legs, hoisted him into the air, and tossed him forward:

"Wrong way, go search over there!"

Little Rascal wore a blank expression, seemingly unable to comprehend why his master's orders contradicted each other, yet he still obeyed, suppressing his instincts to crawl in the designated direction.

The infant spirit swiftly paddled his limbs, like an agile little spider.

Zhang Yuanqing followed unhurriedly behind the infant spirit.

Crawling along, Little Rascal suddenly reversed course, retracing his path.

"Wrong way!"

Zhang Yuanqing hurriedly intercepted him, reorienting him once more.

Little Rascal immediately broke from his treasure-seeking state, glanced blankly at his master, then obeyed the command and crawled toward the southwest.

Zhang Yuanqing followed behind with the corpse puppet in tow; a few minutes later, Little Rascal made another turn, doubling back again.

Sigh, you little melon-seed, wrong again... Zhang Yuanqing bent down and scooped up Little Rascal, no longer letting him lead the way, brow deeply furrowed.

He analyzed carefully and concluded that the ancient tomb likely held no treasure anymore, or what remained was of little value—hence Little Rascal's repeated attempts to crawl back to the village.

Because there lay the rouge box, the ghost doll, the mirror—though all were ferocious supernatural entities, they were also peerless artifacts.

They beckoned to Little Rascal.

"In that case, I can only rely on myself..."

Zhang Yuanqing swallowed the infant spirit in one gulp and pressed on with the corpse puppet.

Night lay heavy, time slipping by unnoticed; roughly forty minutes later, Zhang Yuanqing finally found the robber's tunnel.

It was a mountain hollow overgrown with weeds, no rocks in sight, and amid the lush green grass a circular cavity gaped open, thick streams of yin qi surging from the dark, profound entrance.

Found it... Zhang Yuanqing was overjoyed.

Though he had no timer, he had kept track of time; by now the fourth watch was drawing near.

For caution's sake, Zhang Yuanqing split his spirit in two, possessed the corpse puppet, and leapt into the tunnel—the entrance was shallow, about two meters; upon landing, Corpse No. 1 advanced blindly along the narrow passage that barely accommodated a single person.

Ten-odd meters later, he reached the tunnel's end; the rim of the opening was not earth but thick green bricks.

This robber's tunnel had been chiseled in from the top of the tomb; the burial chamber lay below. "Zhang Yuanqing" picked up a stone fragment and tossed it into the darkness below, soon hearing the faint sound of it hitting the ground.

About four meters high... he leapt straight into the burial chamber.

Zhang Yuanqing waited outside for a few seconds, confirming there was nothing amiss inside the tomb, before dropping down the robber's tunnel. He advanced with a low crouch along the passage and vaulted into the burial chamber.

Possessed of night vision, he took in every detail of the tomb chamber at a glance.

The tomb occupied roughly forty square meters; its walls were built of grey bricks. In each of the four corners stood a pair of clay figurines — handmaidens and guards — but the long years had cracked the clay and severed their limbs.

A stair-stepped passage paved with cobblestones led upward from the antechamber.

At the rear of the chamber lay another doorway leading deeper into the dark.

"This should be the antechamber..." Zhang Yuanqing analyzed, judging by the figurines in the four corners.

Perhaps because the robber's tunnel connected to the outside world, the air inside was not stale; oxygen was plentiful.

He manipulated the Yin Corpse to scout ahead while he followed behind, examining the surrounding brickwork. The walls were laid in a staggered bond with grey bricks, bonded by lime mortar, while the doorway's walls employed an even more sophisticated technique: three courses of headers alternating with three courses of stretchers.

In archaeological terminology, this is called "three headers, three stretchers."

Only tombs of the very highest rank could employ such masonry... Hmm, this was knowledge Zhang Yuanqing had gleaned from grave-robbing novels; schools certainly didn't teach it.

Passing through the corridor, some six meters long, the man and the corpse arrived at the main burial chamber.

The main chamber was vast, the size of a five-star hotel lobby. At its center stood a Sumeru-throne stone funerary bed, upon which rested a white jade coffin.

Niches were built into the east, west, and south walls of the main chamber.

Inside these niches sat porcelain and pottery, rust-eaten bronzes, and black wooden chests half a man's height.

And in the four corners of the main tomb stood an array of bronze ceremonial regalia.

Zhang Yuanqing withdrew his gaze, silently exited the main chamber, and stood by the corridor doorway. He then commanded Corpse No. 1 to push the coffin.

Next, he needed to verify a hypothesis: if the Commandery Princess's corpse lay within the coffin, then the crisis of the fourth watch originated from that bronze mirror.

Conversely, the instance's ultimate Boss was the Commandery Princess herself.

To his surprise, even with Corpse No. 1's strength, the coffin would not budge.

Zhang Yuanqing, waiting at the corridor entrance, returned to the main chamber in astonishment. Together with the Yin Corpse, he shoved at the coffin — their combined strength still failed to move it.

What was going on? Had the Spirit Realm restricted him, or was the coffin sealed by some arcane art, impervious to outsiders? Zhang Yuanqing pondered for a few seconds, then abandoned the idea of opening the coffin, feeling almost as if a weight had lifted from his heart.

Ever since the Old Baton incident, he had developed no small psychological shadow regarding opening coffins.

Zhang Yuanqing turned instead to commanding the Yin Corpse to fetch the wooden chests from the niches — only to discover they, too, could not be opened.

"Well, looks like this is just a shelter..."

Zhang Yuanqing sat atop one of the wooden chests, troubling himself no further, and waited quietly for dawn.

The ancient tomb was dark and silent. Zhang Yuanqing sat for a few minutes, slightly bored; Corpse No. 1 could not converse, so he returned once more to pondering "one doubt and one question."

Though he had already reached the ancient tomb, these two points remained unanswered.

This left Zhang Yuanqing without a sense of security.

"Let's just survive until daybreak. Once the sun rises, the village should be safe, the villagers will return to normal, and I'll go find an old man to question. If the mirror was sold off, that explains why nothing strange happened at the third watch. The danger of the fourth watch is the Commandery Princess."

"But why won't the coffin open..."

Right, the wandering Daoist.

According to Wang Xiaosi's description, the wandering Daoist had entered the ancient tomb as well...

Connecting this to the coffin's refusal to open, a conjecture formed in Zhang Yuanqing's mind: the one lying in the coffin was the wandering Daoist, and since he didn't belong to this instance's plotline, the Spirit Realm Walkers couldn't open it.

If only Old Bangzi's stone coffin had been this cooperative... As Zhang Yuanqing pondered, his gaze swept across the burial chamber, a persistent sense of wrongness gnawing at him.

He mused for a few seconds, then produced the Insight Spectacles.

Upon donning the glasses, he rescanned the chamber interior, his pupils abruptly contracting.

Through the lenses, he discerned the details of the main tomb, understanding exactly what was amiss.

The burial goods were arranged with excessive neatness.

That wasn't right—Wang Xiaosi had been here; thieves breaking in would surely have ransacked the place, overturning chests and cabinets.

Yet from the porcelain to the pottery figurines, to the chests and ceremonial guards, every single item sat in pristine order.

In that instant, it felt as if an electric current coursed through Zhang Yuanqing's body, bringing a shudder of dread.

"Hah—"

He hastily spat out Little Dudu, staring at the round, adorable infant, and commanded in a low voice:

"Treasure hunt!"

Receiving its master's order, Little Dudu scurried nimbly, crawling toward the main tomb's exit.

The infant spirit ignored the coffin, ignored the priceless burial goods, and simply crawled away...

Zhang Yuanqing's complexion instantly turned unspeakably grim.

He suddenly understood why Little Dudu had kept retracing its steps earlier, and why the coffin and chests wouldn't open—it was all fake.

This wasn't an ancient tomb at all; he hadn't approached any ancient tomb back then; he... had fallen victim to a bewitchment technique!

When had he been bewitched?

Who had cast the bewitchment on him?

Zhang Yuanqing recalled that sinister, cold gaze when he left the village.

From start to finish, only at that moment had he sensed anything abnormal.

As for who cast the bewitchment, the answer was self-evident—the bronze mirror!

Calculating the time, when he left the village, it was roughly the third watch.

"I understand why nothing strange happened at the third watch—because the bronze mirror's bewitchment is imperceptible to ordinary people and causes no substantive harm; it's not that nothing strange happened at the third watch, but that no one knew."

If that's the case, I never left the village at all...

Never left the village...

Terror crept into Zhang Yuanqing's eyes bit by bit, his face paling inch by inch until all color drained away.

"What time is it now?!"

Zhang Yuanqing let out a shrill cry, though he knew no answer would come.

The moment the words left his lips, a bone-piercing yin wind whipped through the sealed tomb chamber, vast and all-encompassing.

"Woo woo..."

Zhang Yuanqing heard the yin wind's piercing shriek, watched as brick walls, coffin, burial offerings... every single thing before his eyes was ripped to shreds by the gale.

However potent the bewitchment, the moment it suffers outside interference, it shatters at once.

The Commandery Princess has arrived!

...