Chapter 28: Have My Senses Betrayed Me?

My consciousness seemed to clear all at once, yet the suffocating sensation of someone gripping my throat refused to fade. I suddenly felt the urge to cough, but no matter how I tried, nothing came out—just a strangled groan, as if the breath trapped inside me would burst my skull apart. My mind grew sluggish, but peculiarly, the faces before me sharpened into focus.

“Yes, it’s Peanut and Qin Feng and the others.” In that instant, I glimpsed a spark of hope for survival, and with all the strength I could muster, forced out a few words: “Help... help me.”

“Alright, hurry, assistant.”

I heard Qin Feng’s shout, and in a flash, the hand at my throat loosened. I gulped in air, then began coughing violently.

“Young master...” Qin Feng and the others called out, their voices circling me as I coughed for a full two minutes. After several deep breaths, I finally lifted my head slowly.

Peanut, Qin Feng, and the four other companions—each face came into view, and a wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm me; I wanted to rush forward and embrace them, sobbing my heart out.

“Thank goodness you’re alright,” Qin Feng said, exhaling deeply.

“I...” I tried to speak, but my throat felt swollen, the words barely emerging. “What... what happened?”

I struggled to finish the sentence, and pain flared at my throat.

Qin Feng explained, “We were searching for a way out nearby when we suddenly saw you sprawled on the ground, convulsing. When we lifted you, your eyes had rolled back. We didn’t know what to do, then this young fellow said you were possessed. If we didn’t act, your eyes would keep rolling, then you’d start biting your tongue. You looked terrifying, so he suggested gripping your throat—said that when you’re close to death, you’ll wake up. Well, it seems he was right.”

As he finished, everyone turned to Peanut.

Peanut watched me with a cheerful smile. “How is it? You must’ve seen a lot of hallucinations just now.”

My mind was still foggy, unable to make sense of what had happened. I wanted to thank Peanut, but as I opened my mouth, irritation rose instead. Damn it, after that chokehold, who knew when I’d speak normally again.

“Young master, best not talk for now. We’re not getting out anytime soon anyway, so just rest a bit.” One companion handed me a canteen.

“Did... you discover... anything?” I asked, taking the water.

The companion sighed. “We walked nearly a hundred meters in every direction, but the house still hasn’t ended. We don’t know which way leads out.”

I was about to suggest retracing our steps, when I noticed something odd about his eyes. I couldn’t quite describe it, but his pupils seemed blurred, almost vacant.

I wondered how someone with bad eyesight dared to enter an ancient tomb, but looking around, I realized all their eyes, even Peanut’s, were the same.

I rubbed my own eyes, thinking perhaps something was wrong with my vision, but upon closer inspection, their gazes remained unsettlingly strange.

Seeing I was out of danger, everyone sat down, drinking water and eating as they discussed what to do next.

Qin Feng said, “Now we can only keep moving forward. If we still can’t find a way out, you all stop here, and I’ll go ahead alone to scout. Step by step—I refuse to believe there’s no exit.”

Peanut smiled. “But what if you fail to find a way out and can’t return to us?”

“Though this place is odd, I doubt it’s that extreme. Don’t worry, young fellow, I’ll leave marks along the way. The brothers will see them.” Qin Feng was confident, and I could tell his confidence was forged through countless trials.

“Right, let’s follow Brother Feng,” the others agreed.

Peanut shook his head but said nothing more. At times like this, unity was crucial; if Peanut voiced his doubts and we disagreed, any danger could plunge our seven into chaos.

I had no real ideas, but deep down, I trusted Peanut more. I leaned in and whispered, “Did you notice anything wrong here?”

“Not yet,” Peanut whispered back, “but I still think we should avoid acting rashly.”

I nodded. “Yeah, just now it felt as if my soul was lost—so bizarre. I suspect there are things here we can’t see.”

“Oh? What do you think they are?”

What I spoke was just a feeling, but Peanut pressed for specifics. I thought for a moment, then glanced at the shadow inside the webbed cocoon ahead.

“You think it’s the vengeful spirits of the dead?” Peanut asked.

“I can’t think of any other reason. Damn, if we truly ran into ghosts, we’re doomed to die trapped here.” I realized, after speaking, that I was like many ordinary people: faced with inexplicable terror, I believed ghosts were to blame. But this place was truly horrifying. If we peeled away those cocoons, we’d see countless corpses hanging from the ceiling. In such a place, to claim there are no ghosts... I couldn’t muster the confidence.

Peanut didn’t argue, but instead, with rare seriousness, said, “It’s possible. Whether it’s ghosts or something else, I think we need to search for anything that defies logic here.”

“Defies logic?”

“Yes, ancient wisdom can’t be summed up in a few words, but whatever tricks they employed in the tomb, I believe clues remain—often in unexpected places.” Peanut sighed. “But I’ve checked carefully just now; nothing around us seems out of the ordinary. If this room is truly as vast as it appears, so be it. If not, then the mechanisms here are so perfect they shouldn’t exist.”

“You mean perfect mechanisms don’t exist?”

Peanut smiled and shook his head. “At least, I’ve never seen one.”

“You sound like you’ve weathered many storms. Were you always a tomb robber?” I couldn’t help but wonder about Peanut’s past.

Just then, the others stood up. “Let’s go,” Qin Feng said, taking the lead, determined to head the group himself this time.

Peanut and I rose as well. As we were about to move forward, I caught the faint sound of something. A distant rumble, as if from far away. Listening intently, I realized it sounded like the thunderous roar of a heavy crane lifting something—far off, yet somehow deeply resonant.

“Young master, what’s wrong?” Seeing me suddenly stop, a companion asked.

I looked at the group. “Listen, there’s a sound.” I focused, then pointed to the left. “Seems to be coming from that direction.”

Everyone fell silent, listening carefully. After a while, they looked at me with puzzled expressions.

Qin Feng said, “Young master, maybe you misheard. We didn’t hear anything.”

The others nodded—none had heard a thing. I was stunned, now doubting myself, but listened again. Yet the sound continued, clear as day, reverberating in my ears—not an illusion at all. “You... you really didn’t hear it?”

The sound was faint, but not so faint that normal people couldn’t detect it. Especially since Qin Feng’s hearing was exceptional—he’d shown that before. How could he now claim not to hear? Was it truly my hallucination?

I looked at Peanut; he didn’t speak, but his eyes made it clear—he hadn’t heard the sound either. Anxiety gnawed at me. Six pairs of ears, two with almost radar-like acuity, and none could hear it. The only explanation seemed to be: I was mistaken.

Everyone stared at me, and I again noticed that shadowy dullness in their eyes, which sent a chill through me.

“I... I guess I must’ve misheard.” I said, though the sound persisted, echoing endlessly.

“You two look after the young master,” Qin Feng instructed two companions and prepared to move on.

“Wait,” Peanut suddenly said, surprising everyone. He turned to me. “Did you really hear the sound?”

I hesitated, but the noise still rang in my ears, so I nodded vigorously. “It’s still sounding right now.”

My answer left everyone uncertain, unable to decide whether to trust themselves or me.

Peanut swept his gaze over the group, settling on Qin Feng. “Have you considered another possibility?”

Qin Feng pondered a moment. “You mean the sound young master hears isn’t his imagination?”

“From that perspective, it means our six ears are the ones malfunctioning,” Peanut said.

A companion interjected, “Impossible! Brother Feng’s ears are so sharp he’d hear a centipede crawling nearby.”

Clearly, the group trusted their own senses and Qin Feng’s more than mine.

Peanut suddenly smiled. “But what if the sound young master hears is real, and we simply can’t perceive it?”

The companions chuckled. “We don’t doubt the young master’s skills, but sound isn’t a woman—it doesn’t choose which ears it enters.”

In other words, they felt I was definitely mistaken. The companion said so, but Qin Feng was no fool. He looked at Peanut. “You’re suggesting we six have the problem, but we all came in together, saw and heard the same things. There’s no reason for young master to be different.”

“No—” Peanut drew out the word with a smile. “He is different from us.” He pointed to my throat.