Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Lin An did not know what he was compelled to do, his every step felt leaden as if he was summoned.

Standing vacantly before the two skeletons, Lin An felt a weight upon his chest that left him breathless, even though he had no need to breathe.

All skeletons should look similar, but the pair before him seemed to exert a peculiar pull, binding his gaze to them.

After a long while, Lin An slowly squatted down, his hand trembling as he reached towards the pocket on the skeleton's clothing.

His hand was caught mid-reach by Shen Xiuzhe, who looked grave, "Don't look."

Lin An's gaze shifted from the skeletons to Shen Xiuzhe, his eyes carrying an unprecedented chill, "Let go."

Shen Xiuzhe held fast to his hand, his voice laden with entreaty, "Lin An, please don't look."

Lin An unleashed his powers, without hesitation, freeing his hand to rummage through the skeleton's pocket for a photograph, blurred by time, but he recognized himself at a glance.

A hollow feeling seized him; at first glance of the skeletons, he had suspected.

The photograph from the pocket, the ID cards nestled against a chest, each item starkly attested that these long-deceased skeletons were his parents.

It all seemed absurd to Lin An. He had just been living with his parents, reading at home in happiness, and now, in the next moment, they had become this.

Yes, it had all been an illusion; his parents were dead.

He should have known, shouldn't he? Before coming here, he had braced himself countless times for the eventuality of his parents' death.

Shen Xiuzhe watched Lin An, expecting tears or sorrow, but instead, he appeared eerily composed, silently caressing the IDs and photographs bearing his parents' names.

Lin An seemed extraordinarily calm, crouching motionless for a long time.

Shen Xiuzhe, unsure how to offer comfort, could only stand by silently.

It took a while before Lin An snapped back to reality, silently gathering his parents' belongings.

"Shen Xiuzhe, could you do me a favor?" Lin An's voice was ethereal as he gazed at the bones huddled on the ground.

"Name it."

"I want to take them away from here, could you cremate my parents for me, and find a container for their ashes?" Lin An stood up, turning to walk deeper inside, as if to escape, "I want to investigate their cause of death."

Shen Xiuzhe responded, knowing that the vessels accompanying the buried treasures in the other caves could serve as temporary urns until they found a suitable container outside.

Lin An began a meticulous inspection within the tomb, while Shen Xiuzhe watched his busy figure for a moment before rising to search for containers outside.

Halfway through, Shen Xiuzhe paused, realizing that Lin An had spoken fluently without his usual stutter, just like any normal person.

Was it because the shock was too great?

Shen Xiuzhe felt a pang of heartache; he would have preferred Lin An to cry out his emotions rather than this calm, this suppression of thoughts and negative feelings.

He found a golden jar in another cave and brought it back to the tomb.

Looking at Lin An, who was busily tapping and searching with his back to him, Shen Xiuzhe softly announced, "I am going to start."

Both understood the meaning of the words unspoken; Lin An paused, then murmured a low acknowledgment.

Flames roared behind him, yet Lin An did not look back. Seemingly searching for clues to these deaths everywhere, he was in fact pale, with a vacant gaze, oblivious to what his hands were rifling through.

Due to Shen Xiuzhe's use of extremely high-temperature flames, the two skeletons were instantly consumed by the fire.

Lin An wanted to turn and witness the scene, but he dared not. His parents' concerned questions and the nagging about household trivia seemed to echo in his ears, while behind him lay two lifeless skeletons.

He could not reconcile this stark contrast.

Shen Xiuzhe cremated Lin An’s parents and then placed their ashes in urns.

Like he was fleeing from reality, Lin An continued to search around the tomb, finally finding the cause at the entrance.

"They were trapped to death. The door here can only be opened from the outside; once entered, it immediately closes and cannot be opened from within."

If not for Shen Xiuzhe's metal manipulation ability, they too might have been trapped to death here.

The thick metal doors were beyond the strength of any person to open, so despite their efforts, none could leave.

They had found a way in and normally would have left some people outside, but Lin An noticed they had scattered—perhaps due to illusions or greed. No one stayed to keep watch, instead, they all went to other caves in search of gold, ending up trapped inside.

Thus, they all perished from thirst and hunger.

Coming to such a conclusion, imagining their last moments filled with unbearable pain and desperate struggle, Lin An stood in the corridor, his mind a blank slate, as if he had left this space, floating in an otherworldly realm, unaware of what to do or where he was.

It wasn't until Shen Xiuzhe handed him the urn with his parents' ashes that he looked up, expressionless yet frail and pale as if he might shatter the next second.

"Here, take this... Once we leave, find a good place to bury them," Shen Xiuzhe said, pained by Lin An's vulnerability, a feeling he had never experienced before.

Lin An was surely in immeasurable pain.

Standing in front of Lin An, Shen Xiuzhe's voice was so gentle as if afraid of startling him, "Cry if you need to, it might feel better to let it out."

Lin An shook his head, took the urn into his arms, tried to offer Shen Xiuzhe a smile, but only managed a pained grimace: "Let's go, we've accomplished what we came for."

He had found his parents.

But all that remained of his mom and dad were bones.

Shen Xiuzhe picked up two backpacks from outside, saw Lin An’s distraught appearance, and said no more. He slung one over his shoulder and carried the other in his hand.

These two were left by Lin An's parents, and were of utmost importance to him; they must be taken out.

Afterward, Lin An clutched the urn tightly and never spoke another word.

Following Shen Xiuzhe, he walked out of the dim passageway, his head bowed, his crimson eyes vacant and lifeless, like a walking corpse.

As they ascended the golden spiral staircase, Lin An held the urn, its cold touch suddenly bringing back memories of recently helping his parents up the stairs in an illusion, even holding his mother's hand to ensure she didn't miss a step.

He even remembered his feelings at that time—excitement and joy so full, his long-held wishes fulfilled, content and at peace just by seeing them.

But now, looking at the cold, hard golden urn in his hands, his parents no longer needed his support; they lay within this small vessel.

They had died in the dark, silent underground city.

As a child, bullied and crying, he wished his parents were there to comfort him.

Grown up, he had accepted they were never coming back, so he sought them, hoping at least to gather their remains, to prevent them from becoming lost souls in the wilderness.

But why allow him such dreams, where he thought his deepest wishes realized, to feel the greatest familial love, only to have it cruelly shattered by the harshest reality?

He remembered walking hand in hand with his parents out of the pyramid, but now he could only hold their ashes.

He remembered his parents' gentle smiles, but the reality was two stark white skeletons.

He still remembered the tender way they called him "An An" with a laugh in their voice, but no one in reality would call him that now.

The surreal dream and the harsh reality tore Lin An in two—one side hearing the warm calls of his parents, the other facing their lifeless bodies on the ground.

Tears blurred his vision as Lin An clutched his chest, his heart aching terribly.

The discomfort was overwhelming.

His greatest wish had been to find his parents.

But now that he had, he began to regret it.

If he hadn't made this journey, holding onto the hope that his parents might be living well somewhere in the wilderness, would he not suffer so?

Now he felt like a zombie, heartless, yet why did his heart ache so, as if gripped and squeezed tighter and tighter, ever more painfully?

Having become a zombie, why does he still suffer like a human?

If only he had not regained consciousness.

Then he wouldn't be in such pain...

Lin An, who struggled to regain consciousness because of a photo of his parents, for the first time wanted to succumb to the body's craving to become a zombie.

Since defeating the zombie tree, the energy within him had been vastly depleted, and Lin An's ashen skin was gradually fading, seemingly close to returning to a normal human appearance.

But in reality, due to the lack of energy, he began to feel hungry again.

Living daily with fresh humans, like a starving person surrounded by delicious food, he could easily indulge.

Yet Lin An continuously suppressed these urges, now that he was awake; he was a person, not a zombie, and would not yield to the cravings of his body.

Even as he watched his companions salivate profusely, he kept suppressing.

His companions often captured prey, and that flesh could replenish his energy without the burden of moral judgment, making it his best option.

But Lin An still resisted; he felt that once he consumed that flesh, his moral baseline would recede step by step. From a little taste of fresh flesh to consuming large amounts of animal carcasses, and eventually, he might not be able to resist the urge to eat humans.

He did not want to cross that line, so he had to endure fiercely.

But now, he suddenly found no reason to keep on enduring.

His wish had been fulfilled, in the worst possible way.

Perhaps, there were no regrets left.

He was so tired, he could no longer persevere.

Shen Xiuzhe and Lin An stood at the top of the golden staircase, where the exit was blocked by a cobra, its scales like armor of steel, hard and cold, forming the most secure barrier.

Shen Xiuzhe was still trying to remove the cobra, unaware that behind him, Lin An holding the urn and bowing his head, was gradually changing.

Lin An's once bright and dreamy crimson eyes, which had quickened Shen Xiuzhe's heartbeat, now lost their luster, leaving only dimness.

His skin, which was about to return to a normal hue, darkened again to the initial ashen grey.

His lucid mind became muddled, the intense emotions slowly erased, returning to emptiness.

Lin An finally felt no more pain; the suffocating sense akin to being submerged in the tide was also receding.

But another sensation, long suppressed, became clear and intense.

Slowly lifting his head, his crimson eyes fixed on the unprotected figure ahead.

Gone was the usual dullness and clarity in those eyes, replaced by the greed and brutality of a predator eyeing its prey.

Sensing the scent of fresh blood, the irrational Lin An could no longer restrain himself and charged at the close Shen Xiuzhe.

His target was the pulsing neck, rich with blood.

And the urn containing his parents' ashes, which he had held tightly, fell to the steps with the force of his attack, tumbling down with a series of thuds.