Tomb raiding live stream: Starting as the mute Zhang

When the stone pillar completed its 116,800th pulse, "Zhang Qiling" opened his eyes.

He didn't immediately calculate what day it was.

He simply raised his right hand slowly, spread his five fingers, and then slowly closed them.

When the knuckles move, the bones make an extremely faint sound, almost masked by the pulsation of the stone pillar.

eight years.

The body remains in the same state as when it entered.

But every subtle movement seemed to be confirming something deeper, something intangible.

Zhang Qiling got up at almost the same time.

The two walked to the stone pillar, reached out, and touched it.

The pulse came through, steady and powerful.

But the interval has shortened again—

From a constant interval six years ago, it began to fluctuate slightly five years ago.

And now, each pulse is a little faster than the last.

This "slight" detail is almost impossible to detect with normal perception.

Only people like them immerse themselves in it day after day, year after year.

Only then can one perceive the trend of the hourglass bottom hole slowly widening.

"It's over."

Zhang Qiling withdrew his hand.

The seal remains at the "30% loosening" level.

However, the "tension" that maintains this boundary is clearly weakening.

Like a bowstring that is being stretched continuously.

Although it hasn't broken yet, it's already groaning under the strain.

"Um."

"Zhang Qiling" walks to the back of the stone pillar.

Eight-year-old mushrooms, with dark gold covering almost the entire cap.

The spiral patterns on the surface have become clearer and more intricate.

It even faintly glowed with a very faint fluorescence.

He picked them more gently than usual.

When your fingertips brush against the gills of the fungus, you can feel a warm, pulsating energy.

These mushrooms are less of a food source.

Rather than saying it has become part of the sealed energy field.

It is the delicate juncture that maintains the balance between their lives and this space.

Zhang Qiling accepted his share.

This time, neither water nor a stone bowl was used.

He held a few mushrooms in his palm, rubbed them together gently.

A very low-frequency, almost silent vibration emanated from his palm.

The dark golden mushrooms rapidly dehydrated and shrank during the vibration.

It eventually turned into a small pinch of fine, shimmering golden powder.

He poured the powder into his mouth and closed his eyes.

The powder dissolves on the tongue and has no taste.

Only a pure and gentle flow of energy descended down the throat.

It spread rapidly to every part of the body.

It is more direct and efficient than any other form of consumption.

This is a method they figured out in the middle of their seventh year.

The mushroom's most fundamental energy form is stimulated through high-frequency micro-vibrations in its own energy field.

Zhang Qiling followed his example and handled his own share.

The two stood quietly for a moment, then finished absorbing the nutrients.

Breakfast is over.

They all looked at the crack on the side of the stone pillar.

The crack, now in its eighth year, is wider than three fingers.

The edges are no longer rough and torn.

It presents a strange, glassy texture, as if it had been melted and solidified by high temperature.

Dark red light flowed slowly within the glass-like cracks.

The sound of an impact hasn't been heard for a long time.

Instead, a persistent low hum was heard.

It's like the superposition of countless tiny sounds.

It was also like the breath of some enormous being in its slumber.

Occasionally, a few strands of dark red energy, solid as liquid, would seep out from the cracks.

It meandered through the air for a moment as if it had a life of its own.

Then, as if afraid of something, it quickly retreated into the depths of the crack.

No more physical monsters will appear.

But this is a continuous, invisible "infiltration" and "probing".

The pressure it brings is even greater than a direct attack.

"Soon."

Zhang Qiling stared at the seemingly bottomless dark red depths of the crack.

It's not that the seal is about to collapse.

Rather, it's because some kind of "critical point" is approaching.

The presence behind the door seems to have changed the strategy.

The approach has shifted from "sending troops to probe" to "continuous pressure" and "energy penetration."

Zhang Qiling stopped about three steps in front of the crack and closed his eyes.

He did not exude any aggression.

It's simply about adjusting yourself to the calmest, most primal state.

Like an unchanging reef.

Let the low hum and energy flow, carrying a sense of chaos and erosion, pass by.

He is sensing, he is analyzing.

Memorizing every subtle feature of this permeation.

Zhang Qiling did not disturb him.

He turned around, walked to the other side of the stone pillar, sat down cross-legged, and closed his eyes.

But this time it wasn't meditation or cultivation.

Instead, he focused all his attention on connecting with the core of the seal.

Like a seasoned helmsman.

In the increasingly turbulent undercurrents.

They tried their best to sense the slightest stress changes in every part of the sealed "hull".

And it is undergoing subtle adjustments and reinforcements.

They did it in their own way.

Facing the silent erosion of the eighth year.

Two more years.

Perhaps even shorter.

Outside.

West of Lin'an City, Wushan Residence.

The first snow of the eighth year came early.

Fine, salt-like snowflakes were sprinkled on the blue tiles and alleyways.

It melted quickly, leaving a damp, dark stain.

Behind the counter, Wu Xie still wore those frameless glasses on the bridge of his nose.

On the worktable in front of him was a dark velvet cloth.

The cloth features a nearly completed wood carving.

They were still two figures standing side by side.

But it's almost twice the size of the previous one.

The details have been refined countless times.

The fabric texture of the hoodie.

The sleeves of her clothes were imagined to be gently curved by a breeze.

The knuckles of the fingers holding the knife.

Even the eyes hidden in the shadow of the hat brim—

Although the pupils were not sculpted in detail.

But the slightly drooping eyelids and the calm, restrained aura...

It can instantly evoke the image of a specific person.

The surface of the wood carving is polished to a smooth, jade-like finish, gleaming with a soft luster.

On the base, besides the words "Inside the bronze gate, eight years. Outside the gate, wait."

There was also an extra line of small print: "The return date is approaching."

Fatty Wang carried in a steaming hot casserole dish.

The rich aroma of meat instantly filled the small shop.

He glanced at the wood carving and clicked his tongue:

"I'm telling you, you're naive. With your skills, you shouldn't be making antiques anymore when your brother gets out."

"Opening a carving studio and specializing in carving statues for people will definitely make you rich."

Wu Xie carefully used a soft brush to sweep away the last bit of wood shavings from the wood carving's shoulder.

I took off my glasses and rubbed my slightly sore eyes.

"I carved them because I wanted to remember every detail."

"Open a studio? Carve other people's designs? No interest."

His voice was lower than it had been eight years ago, and he spoke more slowly.

But that stubbornness remained undiminished.

"Fine, fine, you're the master, you call the shots."

The fat man placed the casserole on the table, lifted the lid, and revealed a fragrant braised mutton.

"Hurry, while it's hot. Eat this first, then cook some more..."

"Hey, we don't have many meals left!"

Wu Xie smiled, washed his hands, and sat down.

The two ate their meal in silence.

The snow outside the window gradually intensified, falling in a flurry.

The levitating live-streaming ball rested on the windowsill.

The camera captured the warm interior.

Steaming hot food.

Focused carving.

And the quiet, unspoken waiting.

In the live stream, the comments section showed a tacit understanding and anticipation that had been building year after year.

"It's been eight years..."

"The wood carving is so lifelike."

"Just looking at it makes me feel at ease."

"It'll be soon, the reunion will be just around the corner."

North City, the old Xie family residence.

Next to the huge relationship diagram in the center of the study.

There's a new whiteboard.

It was covered with complex derivation formulas and spacetime coordinate models.

Xie Yuchen sat in front of the computer.

His eyes were noticeably dark and bluish-black, but his gaze was surprisingly bright.

He just hung up an overseas video conference.

The other party is a physicist from a top university who studies ancient energy field theory.

Huo Xiuxiu placed a strong cup of black coffee beside him.

Look at a keyword that has been repeatedly circled on the whiteboard:

"Yang Key—A Spacetime Anchor?"

"I'm starting to get a clue."

Xie Yuchen's voice was hoarse from staying up all night, but full of excitement.

"Combined with the metaphor of the last batch of bamboo slips of the Wuxian tribe."

"And all the unusual spacetime records we've collected over the years about 'doors' and 'eyes'."

I have a guess—

"The 'Yang Key' may not be a specific person or thing."

"It is a 'spacetime coordinate'."

"An opportunity that will only manifest at a specific time and under the convergence of specific energy fields."

"The young man and his companions act as the 'Yin Keys' to guard the seal and maintain the stability of spacetime within the gate."

"And the 'Yang Key' might be a corresponding 'point' or 'event' outside the door that can resonate with the core of the seal at the right time."

Huo Xiuxiu frowned in deep thought:

"In other words, the ten-year agreement is not just about picking people up."

"Could this itself be one of the conditions that triggers the manifestation of the 'Yang Key'?"

"Our actions to pick up people, the strength we gathered, even... our 'will'?"

"That possibility cannot be ruled out."

Xie Yuchen rubbed his throbbing temples.

"But the most crucial evidence of connection is still missing."

"Time is running out; we must speed up the verification process."

Donghai Port, wharf.

The moored blue and white fishing boats looked exceptionally serene in the light snow.

Captain Chen was not on the ship.

Instead, he was in the port's dispatch room with a few old buddies.

They repeatedly analyzed the various sea conditions that might occur in the next two years.

And the advantages and disadvantages of each alternative shipping route from Donghai Port to Yanzhuang Island.

He rubbed the nautical chart until the edges were frayed.

The notes above are densely packed.

"Old Chen, you're even more dedicated to this than you were back when you were sailing the oceans."

An old friend joked.

Captain Chen stared at the nautical chart without looking up:

"This time is different."

"When picking someone up from home, there can be no mistakes."

Snow fell on the window and quickly melted into watermarks.

The villa's basement has been converted into a miniature strategic preparation room.

A 3D projection sand table of an eye-shaped island hangs on the wall.

Dozens of screens surrounded it.

They display real-time satellite cloud images, ocean current data, and tide forecasts, respectively.

This even includes the abnormal weather records of that sea area over the past fifty years.

Aning sat in front of the central control console.

Fingertips move rapidly across multiple keyboards and touchscreens.

Import the latest set of deep-sea topographic scan data into the model.

Compared to eight years ago, her movements are now much smoother and more fluid.

His eyes were as sharp as an eagle's.

On the screen, a 3D simulation animation of the rendezvous operation is running.

Precise down to every single vehicle that might be used.

The position of each person.

Contingency plans for every type of unexpected situation.

The timeline in her mind was precise down to every key milestone over the next 700 days.

A photo frame on the coffee table in the living room.

Bathed in the sunlight streaming through the window, it gleamed with a quiet luster.

A 24-hour convenience store in the suburbs.

Three o'clock in the morning.

The shop assistant on the night shift yawned.

I saw that strange guest in black had arrived again.

This person comes almost every few days.

He always buys the same things: a pack of cigarettes, sometimes a lighter, and a dozen beers.

He looks quite young.

But there was an indescribable calmness in his eyes... like someone who had lived for many years.

It's snowing today, and he didn't use an umbrella.

A thin layer of snow settled on my shoulders.

Hei Xiazi placed the cigarettes and beer on the counter and handed over the money.

The shop assistant couldn't help but strike up a conversation:

"Brother, still drinking so late?"

Hei Xiazi took the change and grinned.

The smile appeared somewhat blurry under the harsh white light of the convenience store:

"Can't sleep, so I watch the snow."

"It'll be soon. After this snowfall, there won't be many more."

The shop assistant didn't understand.

I watched him carry the bag, push open the door, and walk into the swirling snow.

The figure quickly disappeared.

A street corner not far away.

Jiang Xun Gu sat in the driver's seat of a black sedan.

The car window was opened a crack.

The cigarette held between his fingers glowed red in the snowy night.

He watched as the bear disappeared down the street.

I then looked at the real-time footage of several monitoring points covering the entire country displayed on the vehicle's screen.

A moment of tranquility.

After eight years of cleaning, the water is temporarily still.

He stubbed out his cigarette and rolled up the car window.

Start the car and drive away slowly.

The tires made a soft sound as they rolled over the thin snow.

The snowy night was quiet.

It seemed to be accumulating some kind of power.

Inside the bronze door.

Zhang Qiling slowly withdrew his mind from the deep senses.

The pulse of the stone pillar gradually became clearer through perception.

The feeling of being stretched to the extreme became more and more obvious.

He opened his eyes and looked at "Zhang Qiling," who was still standing in front of the crack not far away, as if he had turned into a stone statue.

Zhang Qiling turned around almost simultaneously.

She came back and sat down next to him.

There was no conversation between the two.

But an invisible message has already been exchanged:

The penetration testing methods have been basically mastered.

Energy flow characteristics have been recorded.

The "vitrification" of the cracks is accelerating.

The low hum frequency is slowly increasing...

【Ding. 】

The system's voice rang out at that moment.

[Eighth year of check-in. Host, it's snowing outside.]

"Zhang Qiling" hummed in his mind.

Wu Xie's wood carvings are almost works of art.

[Jie Yuchen is practically turning himself into a theoretical physicist.]

[Aning's command center is now capable of hosting interstellar wars.]

Captain Chen has memorized all the nautical charts.

Jiang Xun Gu's surveillance network was as quiet as a graveyard.

[Hei Xiazi... um, buying beer at a convenience store while watching the snow.]

The system paused, its tone unusually devoid of some of its usual mockery.

They are all counting down in their own ways.

Live life to the fullest, prepare, and wait.

Zhang Qiling remained silent for a moment.

In the darkness, he seemed to be able to pass through the heavy bronze door and travel thousands of miles.

I saw the lights inside the window of Lin'an.

The screen in Beicheng Study Room emits blue light.

Fishing boats in the harbor amidst light snow.

Fluorescent light in the basement of the villa.

A figure standing in front of a convenience store on a snowy night...

"Know."

He eventually responded.

Are you nervous? There are still two years left. Maybe less.

"No."

Are you looking forward to it?

This time, Zhang Qiling did not answer immediately.

He turned his head slightly and looked at "Zhang Qiling" beside him.

"Zhang Qiling" was also looking at him.

Their gazes met in the darkness, calm and undisturbed.

Yet it seemed to reflect the snow falling outside the door.

Those lights.

Those who are waiting.

"Soon."

He said.

Two words, spoken very softly.

But it carries the weight of eight years of accumulation.

And a barely perceptible warmth, buried deep beneath the cold.

The stone pillar pulsated again.

A dark red halo rippled in the empty space.

It illuminated their serene profiles.

It also reflected the increasingly rapid flow of dark red light deep within the crack.

The ninth year is about to begin.

Inside and outside the door, the snow fell silently.

The countdown resounded clearly in everyone's heart.