Chapter Sixty: Sudden and Unexpected

I had no idea how much longer this situation would last. I glanced at Qin Feng, then back toward the direction we’d come from. “Why don’t I carry you out?”

Qin Feng shook his head. “That damned thing moves fast. If we leave the fire, there’s no way out for us.”

“But we can’t just sit here and wait to die.” Qin Feng coughed a few times, his gaze fixed on the shadowy giant shifting in the flickering light. “When the fire starts to fade, I’ll distract it. You just run.”

“How will you distract it? You can barely walk.” I shook my head, thinking to myself that I couldn’t save Peanut, couldn’t save Fatty, and this time, no matter what, I couldn’t let Qin Feng march to his death.

Qin Feng’s expression was as calm as ever, but now his composure carried a note of despair. “My life belongs to Sixth Master. I came down here and couldn’t even find him, I don’t have the face to go back. Now isn’t the time to hesitate.” He suddenly looked at me. “Either let me die at the hands of that thing, or I die right in front of you.”

I had never seen anyone so resolute as Qin Feng. For a moment, I couldn't even bear to meet his eyes. But I still shook my head.

“No. If we die, we die together.” Steeling myself, I grabbed a stone from the ground. “Fatty said three people can play cards on the road to the underworld. Hell, we’ve got a full mahjong table now, and two to serve the tea.”

Qin Feng suddenly laughed, coughed twice, then looked at Fatty. “Hearing you say that, I guess Fatty’s a man after all.”

Dying in this hellhole, whether you’re a man or a coward, it hardly matters anymore. Qin Feng knew it too. Even if he risked his life to divert that thing, I’d never make it out alive. So we both fell silent, staring at the fire ahead, lost in thoughts I couldn’t unravel, quietly waiting for death to draw near.

In this eerie atmosphere, a faint sound suddenly came from the rubble behind us.

I thought it was just stones sliding and paid little attention, but there was another noise beneath it. After a moment, Qin Feng and I both turned our heads, because we realized the other sound was… breathing.

The fire was some distance from us, so we couldn’t see clearly behind. All I could make out were the boulder-like stones. Qin Feng pulled out his blood-stained windproof lighter, flicked it five or six times before the flame finally caught.

He lifted the lighter, and both of us groaned in surprise. Amid the pile of rubble behind us, a pale human face was exposed.

We were utterly stunned. That face was wedged among countless stones; even with a mining lamp, it would be hard to spot if you weren’t looking closely. What shocked me even more was that the face was moving…

“Qin… Feng…” Suddenly, the person struggled to utter two words, still calling Qin Feng. At first, we could hardly believe it, so we moved closer for a better look.

In that instant, I felt the blood in my veins rush a thousand times faster. When I saw the face clearly, it felt unreal, almost dreamlike. I couldn’t believe it was true. Yet after all we’d been through, I found myself calmer than before—or perhaps just numb.

“Father.”

“Master.”

Qin Feng and I cried out almost simultaneously, so overwhelmed our tears flowed. We paid no mind to the spider lurking behind us, reaching out to clear the stones pinning my father’s body. I couldn't tell if I was happy or what, but as I worked and wept, faces flashed before my eyes—Peanut, Mouse, Tan Wei, and Fatty. In that moment, I began to understand what it meant to be a tomb robber.

Perhaps only at the brink of death does one truly find enlightenment. But thinking back, I realize how naive I was then.

Father squinted at me, then suddenly lifted his head. He began to mutter something over and over, but his voice was weak and slurred, and even Qin Feng couldn’t make out the words.

“Master, don’t talk. Young master’s here to save you. No need to worry, the madman will carry you out.” Qin Feng was sobbing as he spoke.

The moment I saw my father, both Qin Feng and I forgot our exhaustion and moved quickly. Soon, the larger stones pinning my father were cleared away. I found him wedged in a gap between the rubble. At a glance, his arms and legs seemed unharmed.

But just as I tried to help him up, Father suddenly stretched out his hand behind us, using all his strength to say, “Save… him…”

Qin Feng and I turned, and saw Fatty struggling at the mouth of the giant spider. At some point, he’d managed to rip the gland from his mouth, but the small spiders clinging to the big one’s belly had swarmed over him, covering him in tiny dots.

“Fatty!” I shouted and tried to rush over.

Qin Feng suddenly held me back. “Take care of Master.” With that, he charged at the giant monster. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t leave my father behind. After a moment’s hesitation, I knelt down and helped my father out of the rubble.

The moment I touched him, it felt as if he’d lost dozens of pounds—his body was terrifyingly light. Yet he was extremely agitated, staring ahead and panting heavily.

“Father, sit and have some water.” I helped him down, then rummaged through Qin Feng’s backpack until I found the canteen.

Father was incredibly weak, coughing for a long while after taking a few sips. I looked over and saw Qin Feng picking up Fatty’s fallen torch, circling the creature, trying to jump onto the giant spider’s head.

Fatty seemed pinned by something on the spider. Several times, I saw him almost break free, only to fail again. Qin Feng’s situation wasn’t much better—he had the torch, so the thing didn’t dare approach, but he nearly got crushed several times.

As I fed my father water and debated whether to help, something seized my back. I thought Father wanted to say something, but when I turned, he was still drinking, unmoving. Before I could look back, a sudden force yanked me away.

My body flew a meter or two before crashing to the ground.

“Father.” Worried something might harm him, I scrambled up, only to freeze at the sight before me.

A shirtless man stood there, drenched from head to toe in dark red liquid, as if he’d just crawled out of a pool of blood—so terrifying no one dared approach. He clutched my father’s collar, lifting him up to his face.