SES Chapter 146 Part 2

That night, Yi Wan San had stayed up waiting for Mu Dai.

He’d heard footsteps outside and called out, “Boss lady, you’re back?”

But something felt off. Mu Dai wouldn’t return without turning on the light. And the silhouette by the bed—thin, trembling—wasn’t hers.

He reacted fast, grabbed his blanket, flung it toward the figure, and yanked the cord for the lamp. The moment light flooded the room, he snatched up a metal bucket from under the bed and held it like a shield—because, as he always said, better you than me.

The figure turned out to be a girl, eighteen, maybe nineteen. Pale skin, eyes shining with tears. The blanket had missed her.

He frowned. “Who the hell are you?”

Then he remembered Mu Dai’s description of Ya Feng—the age, the face. It fit.

“Ya Feng?”

She nodded faintly, her hand trembling at her side. “You should go,” she whispered.

He blinked. “What?”

“Go now. If you don’t leave soon, it’ll be too late.”

A chill crept down his spine.

Someone coughed in a nearby room; a lamp flicked on. Ya Feng startled like a frightened bird, spun around, and ran to the door. Just before vanishing, she turned back and said, “Don’t trust them.”

By the time he chased after her, she was gone.

He couldn’t sleep after that. Whatever the truth was, staying there suddenly felt wrong.

He packed his things, planning to leave once Mu Dai came back.

But she never did.

By two in the morning, panic won. Mu Dai and Luo Ren weren’t the type to take this long—Luo Ren especially would’ve made sure she came back quickly.

What to do?

He meant it when he’d said he wasn’t brave, wasn’t fast, and was afraid of the dark. If Mu Dai had already been caught, his rushing in blindly would just get them both killed. Better to stay alive and wait for backup.

That was what he told himself. Ten minutes later, he was on his knees under the bed, digging out a rusty sickle.

He couldn’t fight head-on—but maybe he could help. Maybe Mu Dai was still out there, barely alive, waiting for someone to save her.

He ran through the dark, glancing over his shoulder every few steps, certain someone was following him. No one was. But ahead—something was.

Yan Hongsha asked softly, “Qingshan?”

He nodded.

In the beam of his flashlight, Qingshan crouched a short distance away, hands furiously clawing at the ground. Dirt flew everywhere. When Yi Wan San shone the light at him, Qingshan flinched, shielding his eyes—and smiled, wide and twisted.

At his feet was a narrow pit—long enough for one body.

Waiting for you. To bury you.

Yan Hongsha’s whole body went cold. She instinctively turned off the car’s lights. Out here in the silent mountains, light made you a target. Better to blend into the dark.

“You fought him?” she asked.

Yi Wan San gave a bitter laugh.

He’d tried. Summoned what little courage he had left, thinking they were about the same age—he had a sickle, Qingshan had nothing. Maybe he had a chance.

But that night, Qingshan wasn’t human anymore. The mild, honest young man from the daytime was gone—what crouched before him was a monster.

Yi Wan San knew instantly he couldn’t win. They grappled for a moment before Qingshan snatched up a rock and slammed it into the back of his head.

Yan Hongsha held her breath. “Then… what happened?”

“I played dead,” he said with a faint smile.

Even half-conscious, he could still move—but he didn’t. He gritted his teeth and lay perfectly still.

If he twitched, he’d get another blow. If he didn’t—maybe there’d be a chance.

Qingshan didn’t hit him again. Maybe killing him outright wasn’t as fun.

So he buried him alive.

He threw him into the pit, then shoveled dirt over him, pressing it down over his chest, his face.

Yi Wan San stayed still through it all. Then, he felt the rumble of more earth crashing down from above.

Yan Hongsha thought back to the site she’d seen earlier: Qingshan must’ve buried him first, then deliberately collapsed the unstable topsoil and rocks to seal him in—creating a grave by hand. No ordinary man could’ve done that. No wonder Yi Wan San suspected he carried a cursed relic.

“And then?” she asked softly.

“I held my breath as long as I could, moving just enough to dig a space around my nose and mouth. I was lucky—after a while, I hit air.”

The falling rocks had left gaps, small but enough for air—and for him to survive. But he couldn’t get out.

That wasn’t the worst part, though. The worst came with yesterday’s torrential rain.

The rain loosened the slope, sending mud sliding down. The water rose, nearly drowning him. He fought to lift his head, one hand covering his nose and mouth, the other clawing desperately at the mud.

The muck filled his nostrils, bubbling and choking him. Just before he passed out, he saw a vision—Luo Ren kneeling in front of him, trying to clear the water; Mu Dai’s terrified face reaching for him—

And then, nothing.

Yan Hongsha finally exhaled, even though he was sitting right there in front of her. The story still made her chest tighten.

She patted his shoulder. “And then you woke up in Luo Ren’s car, right? Bet you were ready to start praying.”

Suddenly, she thought of something. She climbed over the seat toward the back. “There’s glucose in the medical kit. You should drink one, Yi Wan San—it’ll help you recover.”

He murmured in agreement but didn’t move.

She had it wrong.

Because when he’d really woken up, he hadn’t been in the car—he’d been in the mountains.

It was still raining lightly, the sound soft and steady. He was wrapped in a pink disposable rain poncho, the kind that clung to the body. Raindrops traced little rivers down the plastic.

Yan Hongsha was carrying him on her back, face flushed, jaw clenched, veins standing out along her temples, tears streaming down.

He’d never seen her so close before. For a fleeting moment, he thought—she actually looked kind of cute.

He tried to move his lips to say, Put me down.

But before he could, she sobbed out between breaths—

“Yi Wan San, why are you as heavy as a damn pig?”

And that was that.