My Partner Always Wants to Dig My Grave - Chapter 21

The wall lamps flickered with candlelight, but these were no ordinary white candles, they were made of vibrant red wax, lending the warm golden glow of the corridor an inexplicably festive air.

After a thousand years, they could still burn. Si Wan’s gaze was unconsciously drawn to the candles in the wall lamps. The sight of the red wax stirred a faint unease in her, but her excitement over the well-preserved candles quickly overshadowed that flicker of doubt.

As she reached out to take one of the candles for a closer look, a chilly gust of wind swept through the corridor. The biting cold sent shivers down her spine, and her outstretched hand froze mid-air. A sudden coolness brushed against the back of her hand, as if someone had touched her, halting her movement.

The unexpected sensation startled Si Wan, and she jerked her hand back. Her eyes turned sharp and wary as she scanned her surroundings.

Yet, the emptiness around her made her frantic searching seem like madness.

Finding no other living being in sight, Si Wan had no choice but to dismiss it as a hallucination born of exhaustion.

She turned to look back the way she had come. Even illuminated by the candlelight, the path seemed to stretch endlessly into the darkness.

It was then that Si Wan finally realized something was amiss. She lowered her head and reached for her waist, only to find the rope in her hand, its end cleanly severed. She frowned at the neatly cut edge.

“What happened?” she murmured aloud, her voice echoing in the solitude, as if she were talking to herself.

Forcing herself to calm down, Si Wan closed her eyes and pondered.

The rope had been cut, yet she hadn’t noticed. While her heightened tension in the darkness was one factor, it was more likely that the rope had been severed the moment her feet touched the brick floor, which was why she hadn’t detected the problem immediately.

With this thought, Si Wan lifted her gaze to the seemingly endless path ahead. She took out her walkie-talkie, but no sound came from it. The silent corridor was filled only with the sound of her own breathing.

Logically, the people above should have already realized her rope had snapped. Guan Yue, in particular, would have tried to contact her the moment she learned Si Wan’s fate was unknown.

Yet, after all this time, no one had reached out via the walkie-talkie. This could only mean that something had gone wrong above ground as well.

A heavy feeling settled in Si Wan’s chest. At that moment, she preferred to believe it was her walkie-talkie that had malfunctioned. Besides, she hadn’t confirmed where the problem lay and couldn’t jump to conclusions.

With this in mind, Si Wan steadied her racing thoughts and spoke into the walkie-talkie, her brow furrowed.

“Guan Yue, can you hear me?”

There was no response from Guan Yue. Si Wan called out a few more times, but her own voice was the only thing echoing in the empty corridor, adding to the eerie dread of the deep, silent underground.

After tapping the device a few times, it finally emitted a static “shhh-shhh” sound.

Yet, this very noise brought Si Wan a sense of relief, confirming that it was only her walkie-talkie that was useless.

But the equipment they had prepared was state-of-the-art, and she had checked it thoroughly before descending. The walkie-talkie’s lack of response now made her consider another possibility.

There must be some kind of interfering magnetic field in this tomb, which is why the walkie-talkie isn’t working.

Si Wan stopped fiddling with the device in her hand. Faced with being alone and unable to contact anyone outside, her first thought after calming down was to turn back.

But just as she lifted her foot to retreat, a chilling wind swept past, as if forcing her to move forward.

She was standing on steps, and the sudden gust made her instinctively shift her footing. The next moment, the sensation of stepping into empty air startled her.

Si Wan frantically reached out to grab something to steady herself, but she knew all too well that along the path she had taken, only wall lamps illuminated the walls.

Just as she thought she was about to fall, a cold hand grasped her wrist, helping her regain her footing. Once Si Wan was steady, the sensation on her wrist vanished.

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the lingering fear through the fabric of her clothes. The coldness on her wrist confirmed that the earlier touch had not been an illusion.

She turned her head to express her gratitude but found no one beside her.

The next moment, as if realizing something, her expression shifted.

Aside from herself, the only other presence here was Sheng Zhen, the ghost.

Yet Sheng Zhen did not appear before her, reminding Si Wan of the night she had left, when she had asked if Si Wan found her annoying.

Though Sheng Zhen remained unseen, Si Wan now understood that from the moment she had descended, the other had been by her side all along.

Silent, restrained, following her.

With every step Si Wan took down the stairs, Sheng Zhen’s image flashed through her mind, and the wind around her felt like a gentle caress from the other.

She walked for a long time but never reached the end, nor did she come across any burial chambers. She began to suspect that she and Guan Yue had underestimated the scale of this mausoleum.

As she pondered this, the path ahead widened, quickening her steps. Soon, she arrived before a stone door.

The thick stone door bore no carvings, it was simply a plain barrier blocking her way.

Si Wan reached out, searching for a mechanism to open it. But the moment her hand touched the stone, a section half a meter away from her fingers sank inward, followed by the sound of gears turning.

Hearing the noise, Si Wan quickly stepped back, her expression turning wary as she coldly watched the stone door.

With a loud rumble, the stone door slowly rose. As Si Wan looked inside, the previously pitch-black chamber was illuminated by wall lamps, their warm yellow candlelight glowing steadily, as if someone had lit the way for her with every step she took.

The warm light fell upon a massive mural, its shadows making the scene strikingly vivid. Only then did Si Wan realize it was a carved painting.

It depicted two nations at war, with broken weapons and buried sands, mountains of corpses and rivers of blood. Yet all this was overshadowed by a tall, proud figure whose tattered crimson cloak seemed to command attention, drawing the eye instinctively to that solitary, haughty back.

The mural was vast, but the only vivid color was that splash of crimson, as if someone’s private sentiment had ensured that, even a thousand years later, people would still gaze up at that figure’s imposing presence.

Si Wan didn’t know how she had walked up to the mural. Her eyes fixed on the figure in the painting, she felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity.

She stared for a long time, studying it intently, as if trying to discern something from that faceless silhouette.

She raised her hand, unconsciously wanting to touch the vibrant red color. Her fingertips brushed against the uneven carvings beneath, yet her words remained calm and analytical.

“The colors from a thousand years ago are still so vivid, remarkable. It’s just too large, making it difficult to move out for research.”

As soon as she finished speaking, the sound of mechanisms reached her ears. The mural she was touching seemed to tremble, shaking off centuries of dust. As the mural lifted, a spear halberd, hidden by an unknown person, was revealed behind it.

The golden nanmu wood mount accentuated the weapon’s cold, sharp edge, honed over the years. The marks on it exuded a chilling aura that struck fear into the heart.

Along with the spear halberd, crossbows emerged from the surrounding walls. Their arrows, radiating a cold, icy intent, reflected the warm glow of the candlelight, yet inexplicably evoked a sense of dread.

Sheng Zhen had warned that her tomb was filled with traps. The ease of the path she had taken earlier had made Si Wan overlook the dangers lurking beneath.

Si Wan stood still, her gaze sweeping the surroundings. Nine crossbows, their arrows aimed directly at her, sent a jolt of fear through her.

As she pondered how to evade the arrows, the spear halberd beside her suddenly fell from its mount with a sharp clatter, snapping her back to reality. A flash of cold light caught her eye.

Without time for further thought, she picked up the spear halberd from the ground and swept aside the incoming arrows.

Her movements were fluid and precise, as if they had become second nature. The heavy spear halberd seemed to grow light in her hands, its fierce, wind-splitting sound striking terror into anyone who heard it.

In the flow of her motions, an unconscious, intimidating killing intent surfaced. For a fleeting moment, her silhouette overlapped with the figure in the mural, though she remained unaware of it.

The first wave of arrows had already been knocked to the ground by Si Wan, but her actions inadvertently triggered another mechanism. The crossbows were reloaded with fresh arrows.

Seeing the new batch of arrows appear, Si Wan’s eyes turned cold. She glanced sideways at a particular spot.

Seizing the brief moment during the reloading, she dashed into the corridor she had come from. The arrows continued to fly, still aimed in her direction.

The sight of the fallen arrows covering the ground was terrifying, and the severed arrows among them only deepened the fear.

Seeing the broken arrows on the ground, the sharp killing intent she had felt moments earlier vanished completely. A lingering confusion remained as she stared at the spear halberd in her hand.

Si Wan remembered clearly: she had never formally trained in this type of combat. Though she had taken an interest in weapons years ago, modern restrictions on sharpened blades and shoddy craftsmanship had left her dissatisfied. She had rarely handled such weapons and had never learned these techniques.

Behind her, a white glow overshadowed the warm yellow of the candlelight. Casual applause echoed from the shadows.

Turning around, Si Wan saw a figure, crimson as blood, approaching with a lantern. The voice that spoke carried a hint of laughter and a familiarity that left her dazed.

“Impressive skill, though it’s a pity to display it in such a place.”

As the figure drew closer, Si Wan recognized the face, it was Sheng Zhen. Her eyes, filled with amusement, held a trace of admiration.

Staring at the other, hearing those words, a wave of familiarity surged in Si Wan’s chest, making her heart beat uncontrollably fast.

A scene unfolded in her mind: she had left a bustling banquet and strayed into a deep bamboo grove. Bamboo leaves rustled down amidst the glint of swords, like a falling rain.

In the distance, a figure emerged, casually applauding her with the same nonchalance. Though the bamboo leaves settled, the person’s face remained blurred, yet their voice carried over clearly, the same words Si Wan had just heard, spoken with a light laugh.

As Si Wan pondered, her gaze abruptly met a pair of crimson eyes that seemed to reflect her own image. She answered calmly, her reply echoing the past.

“Ahead is even less safe than here.”

Her brows lifted slightly, carrying an air of lofty arrogance. An aura of bloodlust emanated from her, evoking an involuntary urge to submit and tremble.

Hearing Si Wan’s response, Sheng Zhen paused mid-step, her expression shifting subtly, though the smile in her eyes deepened.

“Then we won’t go.”

The glow from the night pearl in Sheng Zhen’s lantern fell upon Si Wan. Human and ghost faced each other across the distance, so near, yet separated as if by endless mountains and rivers.

In the silent corridor, only one person’s breathing remained.

…