Tomb raiding live stream: Starting as the mute Zhang

The stone pillar completed its 1,460th pulsation.

Zhang Qiling opened his eyes and gently tapped his knee with his fingertips.

It was a very light movement, but Zhang Qiling, who was next to him, immediately noticed it and opened his eyes as well.

The two looked at each other and stood up at the same time.

Walk up to the stone pillar, reach out, and press down.

The pulse is stable and the force is even.

Compared to a year ago, the degree of easing has neither increased nor decreased.

The seal remained at "30%", like a stuck gear, unable to move.

"good."

Zhang Qiling withdrew his hand.

"Um."

Zhang Qiling walked to the back of the stone pillar and picked mushrooms.

The mushrooms were still the same mushrooms, dark purple, about the size of a thumb, growing in clusters.

After a year of harvesting, they already know which clusters are growing best and which flowers are the plumpest.

I picked a handful, walked back, sat down, and shared.

Zhang Qiling took his share but didn't eat it right away.

He drew a short knife from his waist and made a cross-shaped cut on the mushroom cap with the tip of the knife.

The juice seeped out; it was clear and had a pleasant fragrance.

Then he took out a small leather bag from his pocket and poured out some powder.

It is dried mushroom powder.

I discovered this two weeks ago—a mushroom had grown old, its cap had cracked, and spores were falling out.

They collected the spores and scattered them at the base of the stone pillars, where a new patch of spores grew a few days later.

Fresh mushrooms are more tender and taste better.

The excess was dried, ground into powder, and used as a seasoning.

Sprinkling on the powder enriches the flavor of the mushrooms, making them no longer just plain earthy.

The two finished their breakfast quietly.

After finishing his meal, Zhang Qiling stood up and walked to his usual training ground.

Instead of starting immediately, he looked up at the sky.

Darkness, with no top in sight.

But I could feel something moving on it.

"Here it comes," he said.

Zhang Qiling also stood up, a short sword in his hand.

A rustling sound came from the darkness above the stone pillar.

Like many feet climbing on stones, dense and fragmented.

Then, something fell down.

It didn't fall, it jumped.

There were a dozen or so, each about the size of a palm, dark red, with hard shells, six legs, and two antennae on their heads.

It looked like an enlarged woodlice, but it was faster and rushed towards the two of them as soon as it landed.

Zhang Qiling didn't move. He waited until the first one rushed to his feet, then lifted his foot and stomped down.

"Click."

The carapace shattered, and dark red fluid splattered out.

The insect twitched a few times and then stopped moving.

The second one pounced from the side. He turned to the side, stretched out his right hand, and tapped the insect's back with two fingers together.

"puff."

The insect's shell dented, and the insect slumped down.

Zhang Qiling's side was even more straightforward.

Before the insects even got close, the dagger had already been swung out.

With a flash of the blade, the three insects were cut in half at the waist, the cuts clean, like slicing tofu.

The remaining insects sensed the danger and stopped.

The whiskers twitched rapidly, as if they were communicating.

Then, they turned around and climbed up the stone pillar.

Their target is mushrooms.

Zhang Qiling moved.

He lightly touched the ground with his toes, his body leaped up, and he braced himself against a stone pillar with his left hand, reaching a height of three meters.

With a sweep of his right hand, he knocked three insects crawling on the pillar off and onto the ground. Before they could get up, his foot had already stepped on them.

"Click, click, click."

Three shots rang out, and three birds died.

"Zhang Qiling" didn't go up; he stayed on the ground.

An insect fell down, but before it even hit the ground, a blade flashed.

One cut, one kill; clean and efficient.

Ten seconds later, the battle was over.

More than a dozen insects were dead, their corpses spread out on the ground, and dark red bodily fluids slowly seeped into the cracks in the stone slabs.

Zhang Qiling jumped off the stone pillar and landed silently.

He walked over to a dead insect and poked at it with the tip of his knife.

"There are more now."

"Um."

Zhang Qiling also came over.

A year ago, these insects would only appear once a month, with three or four appearing each time.

Now, it's once every two weeks, with a dozen or so each time.

Moreover, its shell is harder and it moves faster.

"The seal is leaking."

"Zhang Qiling" said.

It's not just energy that's leaking; even the "thing" behind the door is trying to seep in.

These insects are the lowest-level products that have seeped out.

If even these insects are getting stronger and more numerous, then something deeper...

Neither of them continued speaking.

After inspecting the insect corpses and confirming that there were no abnormalities, they began to clean them up.

The bodies were piled up in the corner behind the stone pillar—a small pile had already formed there, all accumulated over the past year.

Once there are too many, burn them all.

After cleaning up, the two sat down again and meditated.

Most of the day is still spent in meditation.

They regulate their breathing, cultivate, sense the seal, and also sense each other's presence.

They didn't speak, but they knew the other person was there.

This is enough.

Outside.

West of Lin'an City, Wushan Residence.

The calendar behind the counter has turned to a new page.

April 17th, cloudy.

Wu Xie took a soft cloth and wiped a bronze incense burner.

The furnace body is engraved with cloud patterns, and some parts have been worn smooth, revealing the dark copper color underneath.

He cleaned very carefully, even using a fine brush to remove the dust from the crevices.

After wiping, put it back on the shelf and pick up the next item.

It is a porcelain pillow with a bluish-white glaze, and the pillow surface is painted with two mandarin ducks playing in the water.

The glaze is warm and lustrous, indicating it dates back to the Song-Jin period. It's not worth much money, but it's in excellent condition.

As he wiped, his movements slowed down.

His gaze lingered on the mandarin ducks for a long time.

"What are you thinking about?"

Fatty Wang came in from the backyard, carrying a vegetable basket.

Inside are green vegetables, tofu, and a piece of pork belly.

"without."

Wu Xie snapped out of his daze and continued wiping.

"Come on."

Fatty Wang placed the basket on the counter and pulled up a chair to sit down.

"Whenever you space out, it's either thinking about your boyfriend or something else. Who are you thinking about today?"

Wu Xie didn't say anything. He finished wiping the porcelain pillow, put it away, walked behind the counter, and opened the drawer.

The leather-bound notebook is still there.

He opened the book, picked up a pen, and wrote:

"Day 365, overcast. The shop sold two bowls. Ah Ning called to say the equipment maintenance was finished. Fatty bought meat; we'll have braised pork for dinner."

I'll stop writing here.

Then, he added:

It's been a year.

After finishing writing, I closed the notebook and put it back in the drawer.

Fatty Wang looked at him and sighed.

"Wow, it's been a year already."

"Um."

"How are things going for the guy inside?"

"have no idea."

Wu Xie walked to the window and looked outside.

The sycamore trees in the alley have sprouted new leaves, tender and green, swaying gently in the wind.

Several children ran over, their laughter ringing out.

one Year.

Three hundred and sixty-five days, eight thousand seven hundred and sixty hours.

It was long, but it also seemed... very fast.

"Want to have something to drink tonight?"

Fatty Wang asked.

"drink."

North City, the old Xie family residence.

There are even more books in the study now.

There was no room to step on the ground, and even behind the door, there was a pile of documents half a person high.

The smell of ink in the air was stronger, mixed with the aroma of coffee—Huo Xiuxiu had just brewed a pot, poured two cups, and handed one to Xie Yuchen.

Xie Yuchen took it, but didn't drink it; he put it aside.

He held a magnifying glass in his hand, pointing it at a new rubbing.

It was taken from the beam of an old ancestral hall in western Sichuan, and the sacrificial inscription on it is about 70% similar to that on Eye-shaped Island.

It took him three months and five layers of connections to finally get his hands on it.

"This sentence."

He pointed to one of the lines.

"'There's a door in your eye, and an eye behind the door; it's a never-ending cycle.' I always thought it was a metaphor, but now I think... it might not be."

Huo Xiuxiu leaned over to take a look.

"What do you mean?"

"This means that the 'eye' and the 'door' are nested within each other."

Xie Yuchen took off his glasses and rubbed his sore eyes.

"The bronze door we see is a 'door.' The eyes carved on the door are 'eyes.' But the core of the seal behind the door, that stone pillar, with the human figures embedded in its body... the shape they form is also an 'eye.'"

"And behind this 'eye'..."

"There might be another 'door'."

Xie Yuchen put his glasses back on, his voice deep.

"Layer upon layer, like Russian nesting dolls. We've only opened the outermost layer and gone in, but inside... there might be more."

Huo Xiuxiu remained silent for a few seconds.

"What about that guy and his friends..."

"They are guarding the outermost door."

Xie Yuchen said.

"But what if there's still a door inside, still a seal...? Ten years later, we bring them out, and then what? What happens to the door inside?"

No one answered.

Only the ticking of the clock remained in the study.

It's like time is ticking away, and like a countdown is going on.

villa.

The roses in the yard have bloomed for the third time.

Aning squatted by the flower bushes, holding scissors in her hand, trimming the dead branches.

The movements were very light and steady, as if handling something fragile.

After she finished cutting, she stood up and went to the tool room.

The diving equipment has been maintained and is neatly hung on the wall.

The oxygen cylinders were polished to a shine, the masks were transparent, and the breathing regulators gleamed with a metallic sheen.

She wipes it down every day, checks the airtightness once a week, and conducts a pressure test once a month.

One year, twelve comprehensive maintenance services, and three hundred and sixty-five routine checks.

The equipment looks brand new.

No, it's even better than new.

She watched for a while, then closed the door and went to the living room.

There was a picture frame on the coffee table in the living room.

The photo was taken last year in the courtyard, with all nine of us there.

Two young men stood in the middle, surrounded by others.

Everyone was laughing, even the young man had a slight smile on his face.

She picked up the photo frame, wiped away non-existent dust, and put it down again.

I went to the kitchen and started preparing dinner.

The rice is rinsed, the vegetables are washed, and the meat is cut.

A soup was simmering on the stove, bubbling and steaming.

The sky outside the window slowly darkened.

Donghai Port, wharf.

Captain Chen squatted at the bow of the ship, inspecting the mooring lines.

The rope has been used for almost a year, and some parts are worn.

He took a knife, cut off the worn thread ends, and re-knotted it.

They tied it very carefully, making sure each knot was secure before moving on to the next one.

"Old Chen, still working on it?"

Old Liu from the fishing boat next to them poked his head out and asked.

"Um."

"Your boat... hasn't been out to sea in a long time, has it?"

It's been a year.

"Why keep it? Just sell it."

"Not for sale."

Captain Chen didn't even look up.

"Keep it; we'll need it later."

"Still need it? Where to?"

"The usual place."

Old Liu was stunned for a moment, then he understood.

He shook his head, said nothing more, and retreated back to his boat.

Captain Chen continued to inspect the mooring lines.

After the inspection, he stood up and looked at the sea.

As the sun sets, the sea turns a golden-red hue.

In the distance, a boat returns, leaving a long trail of white waves.

He watched for a while, then turned around, disembarked, and locked the cabin door.

Ten years is still a long time.

But the boat must be prepared.

Inside the bronze door.

Zhang Qiling awoke from his meditation.

The stone pillar has just completed one pulsation.

He calculated that there were 3,650 pulses in a year.

One in three hundred and sixty-five has been completed.

Zhang Qiling also woke up. The two looked at each other, got up, and walked to the stone pillar to check.

The pulse is steady and unchanged.

Then, pick mushrooms, start a fire, grill them, sprinkle with powder, and eat.

After eating, practice your skills.

Today we practiced swordsmanship.

Zhang Qiling's sword strikes are slow and steady, each strike leaving a mark in the air.

When the blade slices through, you can hear a very soft "hissing" sound, like cloth being torn.

Zhang Qiling's knife is fast and sharp; its light flashes like lightning, disappearing in an instant.

The sword was drawn and sheathed, the movements almost invisible, only the result visible—the air in front of him was cut open, leaving a brief vacuum.

The two practiced for half an hour and then stopped.

"You've made progress."

"Zhang Qiling" said.

"Um."

Zhang Qiling sheathed the short sword.

In a year, their combat strength did not increase—the system said that the energy field inside the seal was special and their combat strength was locked at 70%—but their skills became more refined.

The angle of the knife strike, the way the force is applied, and the timing are all more accurate and ruthless than a year ago.

After finishing the practice, sit down again and meditate.

At night—if you could distinguish between day and night here—the two leaned against a stone pillar and closed their eyes to rest.

The name "Zhang Qiling" echoed in my mind.

【system.】

【Ding. 】

The voice rang out, tinged with amusement.

[Host, it's been a year. Congratulations!]

"What's the congratulations for?"

[Congratulations, you guys aren't crazy.]

The system said.

Most people wouldn't last three days in this kind of dark room. You two have been here for a year and are still so energetic, not bad at all.

"I'm used to it."

[That's true, neither of you are ordinary people.]

The system paused for a moment.

By the way, those people outside gathered today.

"Gather?"

Wu Xie, Fatty, and A Ning are having dinner at Wu Shan Ju. They're eating braised pork and have had some wine. Xie Yuchen and Huo Xiuxiu are researching in the study and have discovered something new. Jiang Xun Gu is dealing with the last few small fry, while Hei Xiazi... is watching the sea at the dock.

Zhang Qiling remained silent.

After a while, he asked.

"Are they... alright?"

【it is good. 】

The system said.

I just miss you a little.

"..."

[Host, what about you? Do you miss them?]

"think."

It was a very light word, but it was very clear in the silence.

The system laughed.

That's good. Now that I've thought about it, there's hope for the next ten years.

"Um."

Zhang Qiling closed his eyes.

The stone pillar pulsed, one pulse after another.

Like a heartbeat.

It's like a countdown.

A year has passed.

Nine years to go.

A floating live-streaming ball hovers outside the window of Wushan Residence.

The camera is focused on the restaurant, where Wu Xie and Fatty are eating. The braised pork is steaming, and the wine bottle is empty.

The two clinked glasses, took a sip, and didn't say anything, just looked out the window.

There were very few comments in the live stream.

"It's been a year..."

Time flies.

"Are the two guys doing alright inside?"

"It will definitely come out."

"Waiting for you"

The camera slowly zooms out, capturing the night scene of Lin'an, with its twinkling lights, peaceful and serene.

In the far reaches of the East China Sea, on that eye-shaped island, a bronze gate stands silently.

Behind the door, two people stood guard in the darkness.

Outside the door, a group of people waited in the light.

There is a door in between.

Nine years to go.