Chapter Forty-Four: Threads

The surroundings remained the same—the ear chamber, with Fatty lying on the ground snoring, occasionally mumbling names like "Xiu" and "Lian." Peanut was still in his previous pose, eyes closed as if asleep. I glanced around, not seeing anyone else, and considering this place, it was impossible for there to be an opera singer here.

A chill ran through me, but suddenly I felt something strange on my cheeks and around my eyes. Wiping my face, I realized I was crying.

"Damn, did I really get moved to tears listening to opera in my dream?" I wiped away the tears, feeling even more bewildered. "I don't even understand that dialect opera; how could I dream about it for no reason?"

Yawning, I remembered my actual purpose here and moved forward to wake Peanut. Just as I took a step toward him, Peanut abruptly opened his eyes. In that instant, I saw a murderous gleam in his gaze, startling me.

Peanut looked at me, and the killing intent quickly faded from his eyes.

"You woke up in two hours—hmm, you must be in pretty good shape," Peanut said with a smile. Only then did he seem to have returned to his normal self.

I let out a breath, took out a cigarette and tossed one to him, lighting another for myself. "Where do you think we should start looking for a way out?"

After waking, my bones felt like they were creaking, but escaping this place was the priority, so I ignored everything else.

Peanut stood up. "Wherever Fatty fell from, that's where we should start."

Thinking about what lay around that corner made me feel discouraged, but for now, we had no other option but to search there carefully.

I nodded and reached for my backpack. To my surprise, as soon as I lifted the strap, I found my hands were powerless. The backpack, normally a dozen kilos, felt as if it were filled with lead. I tugged hard twice but couldn't lift it.

Peanut came over. "Don't push yourself. You've probably never been this exhausted; your body is at its limit."

I cursed under my breath, thinking how useless I was. Peanut smiled at Fatty on the ground, then picked up my backpack and tossed it next to Fatty's head.

Fatty rolled over mumbling, then suddenly seemed to realize something and sprang up like a startled pig. "Who?" He spun in place before looking at Peanut and me. Seeing me staring at him like he was crazy, he relaxed.

He looked at the backpack and stretched. "Next time you wake me up, can you be a bit more gentle?"

Looking at him, still looking drowsy, I muttered to myself—how could he sleep so soundly next to a coffin?

Peanut said, "If you want to sleep in a big bed, let's move quickly. Grab the backpack and let's go."

Fatty was instantly displeased. "Why should I carry the gear? By age and experience, I'm your senior. You want me to do the heavy lifting? Hmph, you couldn't afford what it'd cost..."

Peanut ignored him. "Gear, food, water—it's all inside." With that, Peanut headed for the door.

Seeing Fatty's reaction, I knew he was very practical. He immediately forgot what he'd just said, slung the backpack over his shoulder, grinned, and tossed his head at me. "What are you standing around for? Let's go."

I smiled bitterly, and the three of us left the ear chamber.

Turning the corner, we reached the end of the burial passage again. The cold mountain rock blocked our way. I wanted to search but had no clue where to start.

Peanut was much more meticulous than I. He glanced at the rock ahead, then looked up. Suddenly, he bent his knees and jumped, stretching out his legs mid-air—one foot pressed against the wall, the other on Fatty's shoulder, splitting open in midair.

His movements were light and agile, making me think if I tried, I'd probably hurt myself just getting off the ground.

"Hey, you're really not holding back," Fatty said, glancing at the foot on his shoulder.

I laughed. "Doesn't that make you as sturdy as the rock?"

Fatty didn't mind. He watched Peanut reach up to feel the stone above. Fatty sighed, "Don't bother. I've checked up there—no mechanism."

Peanut jumped down, apparently finding nothing.

Seeing there was nothing else worth checking, I turned to Fatty. "Are you sure you remember? It's a dead end here. How did you fall down?"

Fatty was displeased. "Believe it or not, I fell and ended up right where your feet are. Can't find the way now? You think you're the only one anxious?"

"You..." Frustration surged within me, and I was about to argue when Peanut pulled my shoulder and pointed to the spot he'd just checked.

"There's something wrong with the area above us."

Peanut spoke, and Fatty frowned. "Impossible. I've poked around there plenty of times. The rock's hardness is the same all around—nothing loose."

"It's the temperature," Peanut said.

"Temperature?" We both looked at him.

"The spot I just touched is noticeably warmer than the surrounding rocks and the floor. If we check the rest of the ceiling, we can confirm something."

Peanut's suggestion was clear: if the stones on the ceiling were of different temperatures, then the warmer spot might hide a mechanism.

Fatty replied, "I don't object, but don't think you'll be standing on my shoulder again. If word gets out, it'll ruin my reputation."

"Why worry about that now? If we die here, reputation won't matter," I said.

"That's because you second-generation thieves don't appreciate the hardships of your predecessors. In our line, reputation is everything..."

Fatty hadn't finished when Peanut sprang onto the wall, bouncing back and forth between the sides of the passage, reaching the stones overhead. He slapped one, landed, then moved forward a few steps and repeated the process.

Fatty watched in awe. I too was impressed by Peanut's agility, thinking of a certain martial arts star who claimed he could fight ten men—this guy seemed far more capable.

In intervals of three steps, Peanut quickly checked all the stones above the passage, returning to us slightly out of breath.

"How is it?" I asked immediately.

"The slabs above are all the same temperature," Peanut replied.

I sighed, and Fatty grinned, "See? You didn't trust me—wasted your effort."

I didn't even have the energy to retort, but Peanut continued, "Don't be too discouraged. The fact that the ceiling is warmer is strange in itself. Even if they're all the same, it's possible the entire ceiling is part of a mechanism."

From Peanut's words, he seemed to believe Fatty's earlier story, thinking there was indeed a mechanism above. But I didn't know what to believe anymore—no goal, no opinion, just listening to them and staring blankly at the surroundings.

Seeing me silent for so long, Fatty bumped my shoulder hard—nearly knocking me over. Already in a terrible mood, I glared at him.

Fatty glared back. "Look at you—still think you can save people? Hah, let me show you the way."