Chapter 14: "Burying the Dead in the Mountain Village"

The desolate grave was completely overgrown with weeds and shrubs. If Lian Qinglin hadn’t tripped and fallen onto it, it would have been indistinguishable from an ordinary mound of earth. Li Zhi circled it and found no trace of incense or paper offerings—no signs of visitation at all.

This was clearly an abandoned, unclaimed grave.

After clearing away the tangled vines covering the tombstone, the group froze at the sight of it.

This was no ordinary tombstone. It was shaped like a sword—but with the tip pointing downward. The stone narrowed from top to bottom, and carved into its surface were over a dozen names, each bound by sinister red sigils. The entire thing exuded an aura of malice.

Li Zhi frowned. "This grave is wrong."

In traditional customs, funeral rites were treated with the same reverence as life itself—something they’d witnessed firsthand since entering this dungeon.

Tombstone engravings also followed strict conventions. Typically, they bore the deceased’s name and dates of birth and death, painted in red. For pre-arranged graves, the characters were blue. But the names on this tombstone were painted in black, crisscrossed by eerie red symbols that coiled around them like ropes binding restless souls. Staring too long made their eyes sting.

Moreover, joint burials were usually reserved for married couples. Burying over a dozen unrelated people together defied all ritual propriety—unless this was… a sacrificial burial.

The group fell silent at Li Zhi’s deduction.

A sacrificial grave in a place like this—one that radiated such palpable malice—was anything but a good sign.

Xu Shu looked at Li Zhi. "Should we dig it up?"

"No!" Gao Shijun was the first to protest. His nerves had already been stretched to the breaking point, and he instinctively recoiled from anything that might invite more danger. "Our task is to find and properly bury our birth parents. This grave is clearly sealing something. If we dig it up and—" He clenched his fists. "No. Absolutely not."

The others understood his fear. If they unearthed useful clues, great. But if they accidentally unleashed something dangerous—or worse, multiple somethings—they’d be doomed.

One village head boss had already given them hell. A dozen more, even if they were just minor spirits, would be impossible to handle.

Li Zhi glanced at the darkening sky. "But we don’t have a choice."

The village head was already buried. If they failed their true task, what would come for them when night fell? The unknown was far more terrifying—and far deadlier—than the known.

Xu Shu knew Li Zhi wasn’t one to act recklessly. "How sure are you?"

"I need to verify something." Li Zhi picked up a shovel, her gaze sweeping over the group. After a pause, she added, "If you’re scared, you can leave."

The audience’s tension spiked:

[Digging up a grave is too risky! They have zero leads—can they really clear the dungeon like this?]

[What if the people buried here ARE their birth parents?]

[If they are, they HAVE to dig them up. A sacrificial grave definitely doesn’t count as a proper burial.]

[What the hell happened in this village? Who still practices sacrificial burials in this day and age?!]

[This whole village is cursed.]

[I have blind faith in Li Zhi. If she says dig, I’d dig!]

[Because she’s been nothing but reliable this entire run.]

……

In the end, no one left. Fearful as they were, they trusted Li Zhi more. And where would they go, anyway? Every corner of this village oozed malice. Nowhere was safe.

Lian Qinglin grabbed a shovel without hesitation. "If we’re doing this, let’s hurry—before it gets dark!"

Digging at night would be a nightmare.

His urgency spurred the group into action. Having just dug a grave under the feng shui master’s guidance, they knew what to expect—but the deeper they went, the more unnerved they became.

The burial pit was smaller than a standard single grave. How could it possibly hold over a dozen bodies?

As they leveled the overgrown mound and dug deeper, their hearts pounded with every shovelful of dirt—each strike inching them closer to death.

Finally, someone’s shovel struck something hard with a metallic clang, freezing the others in place.

Chi Yi, drenched in cold sweat, whispered, "I—I hit the coffin!"

Beneath the damp soil was a corner of the coffin—wrapped in red threads. Li Zhi brushed away the dirt, revealing the threads coiled tightly around it like a seal, identical to the sigils on the tombstone.

The sun had set, leaving only a faint orange glow on the horizon.

Gao Shijun looked ghostly pale. "There’s definitely something sealed inside. We shouldn’t open it!"

No one listened. Working by the last remnants of daylight, they cleared the soil, exposing the coffin in full.

The black coffin was bound in red threads, forming a sigil on its lid. At each corner hung a bronze bell, corroded green by years of dampness.

Someone had deliberately sealed whatever—or whoever—was inside.

"If the villagers did this," Lian Qinglin whispered, peeking over the pit’s edge toward the distant village, "they’ll stop us if they catch us."

Li Zhi suddenly smiled. "The villagers hate us. Their enemies might just be our allies." She gestured. "Open it."

They’d nailed a coffin shut in the morning and were now prying one open at night. This dungeon was getting wilder by the day.

As they worked, the bronze bells clanked dully. The moment the lid shifted, a frigid wind erupted from the grave—like a gust from the underworld itself, carrying the scent of decayed wood and mournful whispers.

The more timid members squeezed their eyes shut.

But no monster crawled out.

There weren’t even any bodies.

Instead, the coffin was lined with spirit tablets from end to end, each bearing a yellow talisman inscribed with the same sigil as the coffin’s red threads. Beneath each tablet lay a lock of hair.

"What the hell is this?!"

The audience erupted:

[This is dark magic! Using hair for curses!]

[What is this village trying to suppress? Whose hair is this? Where are the bodies?!]

[This isn’t a grave—it’s a ritual to trap souls, preventing them from reincarnating!]

……

Li Zhi lifted one tablet and peeled off the talisman.

The name matched those on the tombstone—but it included birth and death dates. Her eyes fixed on the year, and a flicker of realization crossed her face. She checked the other tablets, her frown deepening.

"They all died in the same year," she said slowly, turning toward the fog-shrouded Guanping Village Bridge in the distance. "Likely on the same day."

Then, tiny torches flickered to life in the pitch-black village. The flames gathered—and began moving toward them.

"Shit! They’ve spotted us!" Lian Qinglin scrambled out of the pit. "The villagers are coming! What now?"

Li Zhi didn’t hesitate. "Find the car. We’re heading to the bridge."

No one understood why the bridge suddenly mattered—especially after their encounter with the ghostly illusion there. But there was no time for explanations.

They clambered out and sprinted in the opposite direction, circling around the approaching torches. After putting some distance between them, they heard furious shouts erupt from the grave site.

With the villagers in pursuit, the village itself was now empty.

The hearse that had brought them here was still parked outside the courtyard wall—but they had no keys.

"Should we just run?" Lian Qinglin suggested. "I can carry Brother Zhu!"

Zhu Zhibo gave a weak smile. "Thanks, man."

Li Zhi shook her head. "They’ll chase us in the car. Search the courtyard for the keys. If we can’t find them, we’ll have to try something riskier."

"Like what?"

Li Zhi strode inside. "We hide, then ambush the driver when he gets in."

The mourning hall had been dismantled, leaving only scattered paper offerings. Though familiar with the courtyard by now, they found no sign of the keys.

Who knew a horror dungeon would turn into a chase sequence? Huddled by the wall, they debated hiding spots.

"Under the car?"

"I can climb a tree and jump down when he starts driving!"

"There’s a haystack outside the wall—we could hide there!"

Then—light footsteps.

Everyone froze, holding their breath.

The steps were soft, unhurried, approaching their hiding spot. In the dim light, they saw the feng shui master in his blue robe, holding a compass. He walked past without so much as glancing their way.

Then—clink.

A set of car keys fell from his sleeve, landing right at their feet.

Li Jianxi didn’t pause, didn’t look back. He simply kept walking, vanishing into the night.

The players: "…?"

The audience: "…?"

…Sir, that was NOT subtle.