Since I could remember, I’ve controlled my expressions with effortless precision. Even when sharp pain shot through me, I could still hold back tears. I called this skill [Disguise]—one of my few true talents.

But honestly? It was pretty much useless. All it did was make me more mischievous. Back in school, whenever I skipped homework or ranked dead last on exams, I’d fake cry to scare off male teachers about to scold me—and it never failed. Except for my mom, anyone seeing a somewhat cute girl sniffling and sobbing would soften just a little.

I often wondered: could I ever use this skill for something meaningful? Like becoming an actor? During quiet moments, I’d sketch out my future. If school and I were so clearly incompatible, why not pivot toward what I actually loved? I dreamed of wearing dazzling outfits, standing center stage under glittering lights, adored by thousands. *That* was the future I wanted.

Then my mom acted like a fire extinguisher—dousing my fiery dreams in an instant. She’d stress how academic credentials matter in today’s world: *Get into a good university first. Then worry about life’s crossroads.* Fair? Brutally. True? Undeniably.

So… why *was* I here? The girl who should’ve been buried in textbooks, prepping for college… suddenly trapped in this perilous underground ruin?

I had no idea.

...

...

Yet it was precisely because of my flawlessly convincing [Disguise] that Second Brother fell for it. The moment he said, *“Only your mom knows the way out,”* everything clicked. All the tangled clues from earlier snapped into place.

My earlier doubt? If Second Brother was the villain, why bother flattering me?

Now it was clear: he didn’t know the exit route himself. He needed me to extract the info from my mom.

In his eyes, I was just a spoiled city girl—helpless in this treacherous place. As a seasoned grave robber, his arrogance ran deep. He saw me as beneath him. And with my seamless [Disguise]? He truly believed I’d become his obedient little puppet.

What he never guessed: I stayed ice-cold calm… and *excelled* at pretending. Him letting me approach my mom proved he was fully deceived.

But the situation still heavily favored him. First: Wei Qiuying’s whereabouts were unknown—a wild card that could tip any fragile balance straight to his side. Second: he had a gun. My mom and I? Only a dagger. No chance of a direct clash.

Our sole advantage? My mom’s knowledge of this eerie ruin. But what good was that if we couldn’t escape his gun range? Every reckless move risked injury… or worse.

Second Brother wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t pin all hope on me. He had backups. He *knew* my mom was the real deal—if he’d pressed the gun to my temple and choked me, he could’ve forced the exit route out of her. So why didn’t he?

Maybe… a flicker of lingering kinship?

...

...

“Xiao Ji?”

My mom’s soft voice pulled me back. Her eyes lingered on the bandage around my arm, her expression tight with worry.

Why were Second Brother and Mom down here? Why *must* she bring me? What was this place’s purpose? Three mysteries still haunted me. I knew Mom had her reasons—but what desperate circumstance would bring a mother to drag her precious daughter into such a vicious place?

“I’m okay,” I whispered, offering a slight smile.

“His gun’s aimed at us. What’s our next move?” I murmured.

My calmness visibly surprised her.

“He lied—said you were fake. Told me to trick the exit route from you. I’m pretending,” I summarized quickly.

Mom instantly understood. She reversed her grip on the dagger, glanced toward the pitch-black corridor behind me—and her face drained of color, terror flashing in her eyes.

I frowned. Had Second Brother lost patience? Was he approaching with the gun? I instinctively turned…

This jade hall had four entrances—north, south, east, west. Ours faced directly opposite Second Brother’s.

In that split second, I saw it: something deeply *wrong* slithering silently from the northern archway.

An enormous head. Twin crimson orbs glowing with eerie light. A blood-red maw twisted into a grotesque, smiling shape.

*It was the monster.* The one that chased us past the coffin corridor… the one that devoured Wu Datong.

Long black antennae, insect-like, swayed rhythmically from its massive skull. Closer inspection revealed the “eyes” weren’t eyes at all—giant red gemstones embedded where eyes should be. Hollow nostrils twitched. The protruding head, catfish-like yet monstrous, radiated pure dread. A Komodo dragon’s sinuous neck supported that unnatural face. Pitch-black. Glossy. Slithering forward without a sound…

Silent. Slow. Closing in.