The moment I looked up, Fang Mei and the bandit chief were still going at it on the stone wall, smashing each other around—one flipping the other down, one crashing headfirst into a carved relief.

  I blinked again, and the two were already tangled together on the ground. The chief swung a spinning kick; Fang Mei dodged with a leaping lunge.

  Back and forth, blow for blow, until shards of stone were flying like shrapnel from that whole wall.

  Suddenly there was a sharp metallic clang. The bandit chief’s toe slammed hard against a raised slab beside the stone coffin.

  A heavy click thudded out from under the coffin, like some ancient mechanism finally waking up after centuries.

  In the next heartbeat, the entire stone forest shuddered as if jolted awake. Dust rained down.

  Then—boom after boom—several stone pillars thicker than a man dropped from above, slicing through the air with a howl, smashing into the ground and sending debris spraying. It felt like the ceiling had decided to quit its job and collapse on us.

  I scrambled like a rat, nearly getting my ear shaved off by one of the pillars. “What the hell did they just kick?!”

  Lian’s blade flashed from his sleeve, cleanly deflecting a falling pillar, his stance unshaken.

  Hua did one better. With one hand he yanked me out of harm’s way; with the other he calmly flicked aside a falling stone with his folding fan. “Gong, don’t run everywhere. Can’t you see our Sect Master is studying the mechanism?”

  “Studying? All I see is him showing off!” I murmured.

  “Shh.” Lian’s eyes lifted, suddenly focused. He froze in place, staring at the pillars as they fell, rose, then fell again, as if tracking a rhythm.

  My heart lurched. “Don’t just stand there! If you wait another second you’re gonna be turned into a flat pancake—”

  Before I could finish, he shoved me hard—right into the gap between two pillars, barely missing the third by a hair.

  “I see it,” Lian said coolly, like he wasn’t standing in the middle of a death trap. “They’re not random. They follow a sequence—one cycle every seven breaths.”

  “So what?!” I trembled behind him.

  “So—” Lian leapt upward, using a rising pillar as a foothold. In a breath he reached the stone coffin and pressed his hand onto a recess in its wall.

  With a thunderous groan, all pillars retracted at once. The stone forest fell silent again.

  My knees nearly folded. “Holy… now that’s protagonist aura.”

  Ding—System message: Plot successfully advanced. Male lead’s coolness factor increased.

  “But I’m the male lead!” I hissed.

  Friendly reminder: Sometimes letting others shine makes your own growth arc appear smoother.

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine, whatever, as long as I’m not dead…”

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  Fang Mei and the bandit chief halted almost simultaneously, both turning toward the now-opened coffin.

  Lian tensed and stepped forward to inspect it.

  But then Fang Mei suddenly threw back its head and unleashed a bone-piercing screech—sharp enough to stab straight into my skull. My knees buckled and I dropped like a sack of rice.

  “Ah—stop stop stop!” I clutched my head, ears ringing, vision swimming.

  The noise didn’t stop. It only got higher, sharper, like it was drilling straight into my brain.

  My eyes watered from the pain as I desperately fumbled through my clothes for anything to plug my ears.

  My fingers brushed something—two broken pieces of Xuan-Gui’s shell I’d forgotten I was carrying. Without thinking, I slapped them over my ears. “Whatever—dead horse, living cure—”

  Silence.

  Utter, blissful silence.

  I blinked. Lian and Hua—along with the bandit chief—were all collapsed on the ground, pale as corpses.

  “Hey? Hey?! You guys passed out?!” I scrambled over to Hua, shaking him. When I confirmed he was only unconscious, I exhaled shakily.

  Pressing the shell pieces tight over my ears, I muttered to the system, “What the hell is this? Did you shove some magical earplugs into my inventory?”

  The system droned: Accidental luck bonuses help maintain narrative balance.

  “Luck bonus?!” I croaked.

  Then I froze.

  Fang Mei had dropped from the coffin. It crouched low like a beast ready to pounce, stalking toward me on all fours.

  “Great,” I whispered, trembling. “Fantastic. I’m the only one still conscious. Truly blessed.”

  Its heavy footfalls echoed across the stone forest, each one pounding against my ribs like a war drum.

  I backed up against a pillar, clutching the shell pieces for dear life, legs wobbling.

  “Don’t come any closer!” My voice cracked embarrassingly.

  Fang Mei ignored me and lunged.

  I rolled aside in a panic, nearly seeing stars, but managed to dodge. A pillar behind me shattered under its blow, spraying stone chips across my face.

  “My— you’re actually trying to eat me!” I bolted, tripping over rubble from the earlier pillar drops.

  Fang Mei always seemed to anticipate my turns, cutting me off each time. I shrieked more than once and even tried throwing the shell pieces at it.

  “Take it! Take it! Eat this instead!”

  The shell clattered across the floor. Fang Mei sniffed it… then picked it up in its jaws and flung it straight back at me.

  Right into my chest.

  I staggered. “You—you want the shell?!”

  Fang Mei said nothing, but its gaze was no longer feral. It stepped closer, then suddenly lowered its head toward me—like offering something.

  I hesitated, then gingerly placed a hand on its back. “Are you… telling me to get on?”

  A low rumble. No resistance.

  “…Fine. Sure. Ride or die, literally.” Bracing myself, I shoved the shell back into my robe and climbed onto its back, shaking all over.

  A heartbeat later, Fang Mei sprang upward, vaulting up the stone wall like gravity owed it money. I plastered myself onto its back, toes curling into its fur.

  “Ahhhh—slower! Slower!”

  Fang Mei didn’t slow down. Three bounds, and we were already back at the coffin.

  It glanced back at me, then nudged the coffin lid with its head, urging me on.

  I stared for three whole heartbeats before processing it. “You want me to… open it?!”

  A short, huffing snort—confirmation.

  My legs were jelly, but seeing Lian and Hua still unconscious, I gritted my teeth and pressed both palms against the lid. “Fine! Fine! I’m opening it!”

  The coffin lid was colder and heavier than I expected. My knuckles whitened as I shoved it inch by inch aside.

  My heartbeat thundered. All I could think about were hidden darts and poison traps.

  “System,” I whispered, “a heads-up would be great.”

  A pause, then: Danger level… random. Unpredictable.

  “…You could have stayed silent,” I muttered.

  Cold sweat trickled down my neck as I pushed the lid fully open.

  Inside was no treasure—only a shriveled corpse dressed in ruined armor, once a tomb guardian by the look of it.

  My scalp prickled. I nearly slammed the lid shut again.

  Then something glinted.

  A strange silver box rested in the corpse’s sunken chest plate—ancient, intricate, impossible to tell whether it was a trap or a burial token.

  I swallowed hard. “If I touch that, am I gonna get hit with poison darts, smoke, acid—anything?”

  Calm system voice: Probability: fifty-fifty. You can try.

  “Fifty percent death isn’t a try, that’s gambling!”

  But with Lian and Hua unconscious and Fang Mei watching me like a supervisor waiting for results, I really had no choice.

  Heart hammering, I reached into the coffin. My fingertips brushed the icy metal of the box. Every nerve in my body screamed.

  Fang Mei remained motionless, staring at me.

  “It’s all or nothing…” I muttered, and with a final breath—

  I lifted the silver box from the corpse.