Eating humans was out of the question.
Qin Zhen was a principled and rational zombie who couldn’t bring herself to do such a thing. Forced to swallow her pride in the face of human technological superiority, she grudgingly gave up on settling the score and led Fu Qi on a tour of the tomb instead.
The tomb wasn’t large—just a few hundred square meters—laid out in an "I" shape with only two traps along the passageway.
The traps were no challenge for Fu Qi, whose agility and reflexes allowed him to dodge them effortlessly. Qin Zhen, on the other hand, didn’t even bother to evade, leaving her with two gaping holes from crossbow bolts.
Luckily, she felt no pain. After yanking out the bolts, she viciously jammed them back into the trap mechanisms, her bold actions drawing several exaggerated gasps of admiration from Fu Qi.
After circling the tomb, they found no other remains apart from some burial artifacts—pottery, weapons, jewelry, and the like—scattered haphazardly in the side chambers. Though aged and partially degraded, the items were still intact.
When Fu Qi asked about the disarray, Qin Zhen answered without hesitation: she was the one who’d moved them.
Once excavated, burial goods might belong to humans, but as long as they remained untouched in her tomb, they were hers to rearrange as she pleased.
She shot back at Fu Qi, "Signal. Where?"
They’d walked the entire tomb—surely he’d picked up a signal by now?
Fu Qi had earlier torn a strip of cloth from his shirt to wrap around his hand. As they explored, he’d been tapping walls and studying murals. Now, back in the main chamber, he was still busy, crouching to inspect Qin Zhen’s coffin and the skeletal remains inside. Without looking up, he replied, "Nothing."
"Technology. Advanced. Signal bad?"
"It’s just too deep underground."
Qin Zhen was disheartened.
No signal meant no contact with the outside world—and no way out.
This was already the fifty-seventh hour since Fu Qi had fallen into the tomb. Though he seemed physically and mentally stable, without food, he would eventually die.
And if he died, her last hope of escape would vanish.
Qin Zhen found Fu Qi cunning and had even joked about inheriting his pants once he perished. But deep down, she hoped he’d live as long as possible—even if they never found a signal.
"You. Thirsty?" Qin Zhen asked.
"Very," Fu Qi answered, still not looking up. Then he asked, "Mind if I try lying in the coffin?"
Qin Zhen no longer disliked him. Instead, she felt a sort of pity for him, as one might for a dying man, so she nodded.
"Uh…" Fu Qi glanced up, gesturing at the bones inside.
"My husband," Qin Zhen said flatly, too dispirited to care anymore. "Just. Toss him out."
Fu Qi’s brow arched as he bent to pick up the skeleton, weighing and examining it while casually asking, "I recall your husband was in a pile on the floor earlier. What, did the happy couple sleep in separate coffins?"
Qin Zhen rolled her eyes, ignoring him.
Her deadpan expression didn’t escape Fu Qi’s notice. He smirked and pressed, "Marital troubles? Or just a fight?"
Qin Zhen decided he had a screw loose and muttered dismissively, "My husband. Gentleman. Wanted me. Big coffin. More space. Comfortable."
"Shouldn’t it be that your husband loved you?"
Qin Zhen hadn’t considered phrasing it that way, but she quickly forgave her long-dormant brain and stubbornly insisted, "Husband. Loved me. And gentleman."
"Your husband might’ve loved you, but he definitely wasn’t a gentleman," Fu Qi said, his voice muffled from inside the coffin.
Qin Zhen thought he was just being argumentative. She huffed, ready to ignore him again—until she caught sight of the "husband" bones piled at her feet. The hollow eye sockets of the pale skull seemed to stare accusingly, as if condemning her heartlessness.
Hesitating, she picked up the skull and marched to the coffin, shouting indignantly, "Slander! My husband! Apologize!"
"No slander," Fu Qi replied calmly, preoccupied with deciphering the chaotic scratches inside the coffin. "Your husband couldn’t have been a gentleman."
"Why. Say that?!"
Fu Qi paused, choosing his words carefully. "Possibly because your husband was female."
Qin Zhen: "…What?"
"Compared to the narrow, funnel-shaped pelvis of males, the female pelvis is broader and rounder to accommodate childbirth. Additionally, based on bone length, width, and developmental markers, your husband was approximately 1.6 meters tall and likely died as a minor… You didn’t know?"
Fu Qi’s explanation was methodical, his tone laced with surprise. Qin Zhen’s mind spun.
She truly hadn’t known.
In the span of a minute, she’d not only reevaluated her sexual orientation but also gone from being a principled zombie to a criminal.
Now she was officially a pervert.
She froze, as if transported back to the distant past—when she’d first awakened in the coffin, her body still uncoordinated… and those very bones had been pressed intimately against her.
Noticing her shell-shocked expression, Fu Qi offered comfort: "Don’t worry. Maybe you married before marriage laws existed. And humans these days are open-minded—we respect all orientations."
Silence filled the tomb.
By the time Fu Qi finished his meticulous inspection and climbed out, Qin Zhen was still standing there, clutching the skull with a dazed look. He suppressed a smirk and kindly offered, "I’m done. Want me to help put your husband back?"
Qin Zhen’s lips twitched stiffly. "No. I’ll. Do it."
"Alright." Fu Qi nodded, then added gently, "All couples have disagreements. Mutual understanding is key to a lasting relationship."
Qin Zhen felt utterly bewildered. Had centuries underground warped her sanity, or was Fu Qi the unhinged one? Or had human society evolved beyond a zombie’s comprehension?
Her brain felt like it had been marinating in alcohol for thirty years. Just as she swayed dizzily, Fu Qi opened his mouth again. She snapped back to reality and cut him off abruptly. "You. Thirsty? I’ll. Take you. To water!"
Indeed, there was a water source in the tomb.
Turning the imposing stone tiger head in the left side chamber would open a hidden wall, revealing a small pool behind it.
"Sure," Fu Qi said.
Qin Zhen had planned to reveal the water source only once Fu Qi behaved. His lack of surprise—just a casual "Sure"—meant he’d already anticipated its existence.
Yet he’d never mentioned it, never probed or searched for it.
Qin Zhen narrowed her eyes at him. Fu Qi met her gaze, smiling.
She knew he was waiting for her to ask. She refused. After a brief staring contest, she turned on her heel and strode toward the side chamber.
She’d discovered the water source during an earlier exploration. Priding herself as a civilized, hygiene-conscious zombie, she’d made good use of it—washing both herself and her "husband" there.
After all this time, her husband had been scrubbed so thoroughly by her that he practically gleamed, while her own clothes had turned into tattered rags... Yes, it was all too clean!
Qin Zhen's rusted mind suddenly sharpened. Once she figured out the reason, she looked around again and noticed that aside from the excessively tidy main burial chamber and herself, the dusty floor of the side chamber was dotted with dried water stains.
Having stayed here for so long, she hadn’t found it unusual, but to an outsider, these traces would have been glaringly obvious.
Fu Qi must have noticed these clues early on, yet he showed no sign of it—his cunning ran deep!
Grumbling inwardly, Qin Zhen twisted the tiger-shaped mechanism. With a loud boom, the stone wall of the side chamber slid open, revealing an empty cavern.
The cavern wasn’t large, its entirety visible at a glance. The soil and walls were slick with condensation, and at the far end lay a dark pool, half the size of a basketball court, its rippling surface exuding an eerie, chilling aura.
Fu Qi circled the pool, inspecting it carefully under the glow of his wristwatch. He examined every detail, occasionally tapping the stone walls or pinching damp soil to scrutinize it closely.
Even though Qin Zhen had explicitly told him that the water level rose and fell with time, that the bottom was nothing but thick layers of mud, and that there was no exit here, he insisted on verifying it himself.
The process dragged on, unbearably dull for Qin Zhen. After watching idly for a while, she picked up a stone and began doodling on the walls.
She lost track of time, her enthusiasm for doodling nearly spent, when suddenly Fu Qi’s voice came from behind her.
"Bored?"
Qin Zhen glanced at him, the stone still in her hand.
Fu Qi smiled. "Want me to find a movie for you?"
Qin Zhen’s face lit up with excitement, but reason held her back. She feigned restraint. "Isn’t that... inappropriate? The watch is needed to find a signal."
That wristwatch was their lifeline—the key to escaping the tomb.
"It’s fine," Fu Qi said. "There’s just one last question to solve, and then we can leave."
The sudden good news stunned Qin Zhen.
When she first learned Fu Qi carried a watch capable of contacting the outside world, she had been overjoyed. But as time passed, hope of escape had dwindled, and she’d nearly resigned herself to disappointment. Now, out of nowhere, Fu Qi dropped this bombshell.
And unlike before, his wording this time was definitive.
...If he was willing to waste the watch’s battery on a movie, he must have a solid plan to get out!
"Wh-what question?" Qin Zhen pressed urgently. "Tell me!"
Fu Qi asked, "Is there anywhere in this tomb I haven’t been?"
"No."
Fu Qi nodded. "What kind of movie do you want to watch?"
"Zombie films," Qin Zhen answered reflexively.
"None in the watch," Fu Qi said. "That genre’s too old—it’s been decades since any were made. Pick something else."
"Then... Taoist exorcism—wait, no!" Qin Zhen snapped back to reality, eyes widening. "That’s the question you wanted to ask?!"
"Yes." As always, Fu Qi smiled when she got flustered, his tone soothing. "No need to panic."
Then, unhurriedly, he explained, "I’ve mostly figured it out. This place is in the north, high in the mountains. Before modern civilization, many hunting clans lived here. Water sources and prey were matters of life and death for them, so their tombs were often connected to water..."
This tomb’s burial goods included pottery, crossbows, and jewelry mixed with animal teeth—alongside the newly discovered water source.
There were no inscriptions or sacrificial texts, only hunting-themed murals (Fu Qi made sure to clarify that Qin Zhen’s modern-style doodles didn’t count). Combined with the construction style, scale, and layout, the tomb likely belonged to a figure of some status but little real power—perhaps a princess—from over four hundred years ago.
"Once we understand this, we can leave," Fu Qi concluded.
Qin Zhen listened, dumbfounded, before finally stammering, "H-how do you know it’s four hundred years?"
"Because this is a tomb within a tomb." Fu Qi tilted his chin up. "Didn’t I mention? There’s another tomb above—that’s where I fell from."
Qin Zhen: "..."
She froze. After living alone here for so long, she’d never realized she had neighbors overhead!
"The upper tomb belonged to a prince from four centuries ago. Grave robbers have picked it clean—it’s practically a tourist spot now," Fu Qi said. "Thanks to him, your little tomb was completely hidden. If not for the collapsed wall that made me stumble down here, I’d never have guessed another tomb existed below."
The flood of information turned Qin Zhen’s rusted brain to mush. She opened her mouth, hesitated, and finally managed, "How do you... know everything?"
"It’s not that I know everything," Fu Qi replied with a faint smile. "It’s that you know nothing."
Qin Zhen nodded emphatically. Trapped for so long, she truly knew nothing.
It just proved how vital it was to stay connected to the world and keep learning.
While she was still processing, Fu Qi spoke again. "No Taoist-themed films in the watch either, but there are some high-budget international documentaries on biological research. Will those do?"
Still untangling the new revelations, Qin Zhen shook her head. "Not now."
"Then shall we leave?"
Qin Zhen nodded absently.
With her agreement, the two stepped out of the cavern. Qin Zhen was lost in thought, while Fu Qi removed his wristwatch, pressed a few buttons, and hurled it at the distant stone wall.
At the sound, Qin Zhen turned just in time to see the watch hit the ground and roll to a stop. Before she could react in shock, the watch emitted a faint green glow from its dial—then bang—it exploded into fragments before her eyes.
