Brian Foster furrowed his brows and pulled his horse to a stop. His men also halted their horses one after another. The horse beneath the child, seeing the others stop, also came to a halt. The child turned to look at Brian Foster, who then asked, “What did you say, kid? Do you know the consequences of speaking carelessly? This is the ancestral grave of the Ma family. Are you telling me that you dug up my family’s ancestral tomb, triggered a mechanism, not only disturbed my ancestors, but also poisoned all my crops?”

“I don’t speak carelessly,” the child said. “Besides, I haven’t finished. Next, I’ll tell you where all the coffins from your ancestral tomb have gone.”

Brian Foster nodded, his hand already resting on the pistol at his waist. “Alright, then tell me—where did they go? Does it have something to do with these scorpions?”

“They were eaten,” the child said. “The ancient tomb beneath us ‘ate’ all the coffins from your ancestral grave.”

“Eaten?” Brian Foster found the situation bizarre. He was actually having such a serious conversation with a child barely in his teens, and was completely suppressed by the child’s aura. Strangest of all, he realized he was starting to believe what the child was saying. He gripped his gun tighter, trying to regain the upper hand. “What do you mean, eaten? Is this ancient tomb alive?”

The child shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I know where you can find those coffins, but I don’t know why the coffins were eaten by the largest ancient tomb underground.”

The child continued, “If you dig here now, you’ll find all the coffins stuck to the outer wall of the scorpion-shaped tomb below, as if something attracted them there.”

The child was very calm—so calm it was almost unnatural, making Brian Foster increasingly uneasy.

If you see someone who looks weak but isn’t afraid of you at all, you’d better be careful, because ‘fearlessness’ can’t be faked. True fearlessness always comes from an incredibly strong inner strength. People like Brian Foster, used to intimidating others with power, actually lack real confidence inside.

After the child finished speaking, he looked at Brian Foster. “There’s something I feel I should inform you about. Within dozens of miles around here, in a few months, not a blade of grass will grow, and it won’t recover for decades. Everyone in this area will meet a bad end. As the local leader, with so many people living here, you might still be able to do something—maybe things won’t be as bad as I say.”

“What should I do?” Brian Foster asked. “Kid, you came to tell me all this—you must have a reason. Why not just lay it all out?”

The child said, “I have a few companions who are still trapped in the underground tomb. I saw your family’s coffins in the tomb and knew the Ma family is a prominent clan here, so I came to inform you. At the same time, I hope you can help me with two things—first, prepare seven days’ worth of dry rations, a short knife weighing six jin, a bag of lamp oil and carbon powder. I need to go down to rescue my friends and find a way to seal several vents in the tomb. Second, dig around the edges of these dead crops, and in the wet mud, insert bamboo poles five zhang long filled with lime, drive them into the mud, leaving only a finger’s width above ground—the denser, the better.”

“Why do this?”

“To draw a boundary and make a prison. The thing below is too fierce—it must be trapped and dealt with here,” the child said. “It wasn’t easy for me to get out and tell you all this. My friends are still trapped below, their fate unknown, but since this started with us, I will see it through. If I don’t come back to you in seven days, please send this letter to my hometown.”

The child took a letter from his coat and handed it to Brian Foster. “If I don’t come out in seven days, keep your descendants away from this place.”

Brian Foster looked at the envelope. The recipient was written as The Bolton Family in the northeast, and he frowned. “Kid, whose tomb is this down there? Why is it so dangerous? If it’s my ancestor’s great tomb, it doesn’t seem right for me to help outsiders mess with it, does it?”

The child replied, “Your family is so prosperous, this kind of evil tomb has nothing to do with you. You probably just happened to build your ancestral graves here by coincidence. The tomb below is from the Han dynasty, the owner is still unclear, but with a tomb of this shape, it’s definitely not an ordinary person.”

Brian Foster thought for a moment, but his mind was on something else. If it wasn’t his own ancestral tomb, and judging by the scale, there must be a huge amount of treasure inside. If he just let this kid take it all, wouldn’t he be a fool?

“I’ve already said too much today. Don’t ask any more,” the child said. “Will you help me? Give me your word.”

That night, Brian Foster prepared everything the child had asked for. The child took the steamed buns and disappeared into the night. The next day, following the child’s instructions, Brian Foster organized the villagers to buy long bamboo poles and lime, and surrounded the entire area.

Brian Foster’s plan was to wait until the child finished his business below, then capture him and force him to lead his men into the tomb—or simply double-cross him and make them hand over all the stolen goods, since the tomb was on his turf anyway.

However, from that day on, Brian Foster never saw that child again.