Chapter 44: Betrayals and Bloodshed

2022-05-20

To betray one’s master, according to Lord Chu’s family rules, means being skinned alive and having your heart ripped out. San’s death didn’t mean much on its own, but when Lao Liu’s body turned up everyone realized—someone had begun enforcing family law.

It’s said Lord Chu was killed by his own six apprentices—six people he treated like his own sons. In death, someone had to arrange his affairs.

After turning thirty, Lord Chu began building his own tomb.

Right now, we’re inside Lord Chu’s burial chamber.

When Lord Chu died the six brothers gave him a lavish burial. All his sworn brothers attended without suspicion—none ever expected the six apprentices to turn on their master together. But it wasn’t the six brothers carrying his coffin. Instead, it was his first wife.

Turns out Lord Chu had written his will a long time ago. He specified that his original wife was to handle all arrangements after his death. The brothers watched as she entered the tomb, followed by people they’d never seen. Then they watched as nearly all of Lord Chu’s fortune was loaded into another coffin. That’s when they made up their minds.

There was nothing about the brothers in Lord Chu’s will. As it turned out, he’d never truly treated them as his own sons—behind all the toasts and smiling faces, there was calculation. Now they laughed, bitterly realizing it was all a game—there had never been any real affection. Their sense of guilt for killing their master vanished without a trace.

They all knew the master’s tomb was complicated. They also knew that the burial coffin was filled with treasure.

They decided to come back a few years later. That way, even if someone discovered something, nobody would suspect the six brothers.

The first wife came out and the tomb was sealed.

The brothers had worried she might open the coffin to check the body inside, which could ruin everything. But she said nothing when she emerged, letting the brothers breathe easy. Since their secret wasn’t exposed, they thought the matter had ended.

But what came next was the real issue.

With Lord Chu dead, no one could stop them anymore. They decided to deal with Xiao Mei on her return trip.

Nobody had told Xiao Mei about Lord Chu’s death yet, so naturally, this job fell to the six brothers.

Qian Er said, “Let’s make sure the news reaches her in the afternoon. She’ll rush back as soon as she hears. Time it right, so she gets here around midnight.”

Qian Er really was the mastermind of the group. In just six months he’d brought everyone together.

Xiao Mei did return, and the waist-high cornfield was the perfect spot for an ambush. With no streetlights, and almost nobody around at that hour, it was ideal. But things suddenly changed—Xiao Mei didn’t come alone. She had what looked like a classmate with her.

“Do we make a move or not?” Dadan was the first to ask.

Qian San spat softly, and they jumped into action.

Wei Changfeng and Dadan broke from cover, each grabbing one of the girls and dragging them into the corn.

Then Qian San charged forward.

At this point, Qian San was barely hanging on by a thread. Honestly, if we’d gotten him out earlier, he might’ve lived with treatment. But I had no intention of giving him that chance.

“Chu Mei’s back. One of us six must have betrayed the rest. Don’t trust anyone. If Lord Chu’s friends find out what happened five years ago, we’ll be finished. Anyone who knows the secret, the traitor has to kill them. Never trust anyone.”

“Then why tell me all this?” I asked. “You want me dead?”

Qian San grinned, brushing back his hair. “The day I started down this path, I knew I wouldn’t die a good death. I just never guessed it’d be like this. I’m telling you because if I don’t, this secret will rot in my gut forever. You’ve no idea what it’s like, keeping something you can’t tell a soul. Every day’s torture.”

“I don’t want to carry this secret when I go. Heard bad people go to the eighteenth level of hell for their crimes. I’d rather not experience one more layer.” Qian San closed his eyes. “Help me close the coffin lid. The feng shui here’s not bad. My son’s five now. He’s doing well in school…”

When a person dies, it’s over.

I never expected Qian San to have a wife and kid. He’d always struck me as carefree, reckless, like nothing ever fazed him. But in the end, everyone hopes they’ll be remembered for their better side, no matter what unspeakable things they’ve done.

I closed the coffin.

Why did everyone keep saying Chu Mei was back? Did they really believe in ghosts?

Now I could be sure—these six were the infamous six. But their exact story differed from what Daiyu had told me.

Qian San was now dead in the coffin. If I wanted answers from him, that was no longer possible.

“I just took a look. Behind the stone door there’s another passage. Looks like someone went through. Without a flashlight, it’s nearly impossible to spot bloodstains here,” Zhao Mingkun said, shining her flashlight at me to signal we should keep moving.

Past the tunnel, we found three more forks in the path. Lord Chu clearly didn’t want anyone wandering into his tomb—so many splits that anyone unfamiliar with the structure would get lost, and in here, that’s nothing to joke about.

That made me quickly carve a mark on the wall, just in case I lost track of where we’d entered.

“Here!” Zhao Mingkun’s flashlight swept over the ground. “Lots of footprints—they probably ran this way.”

We followed the prints inside, only to be hit by a sharp stench of blood. Judging by the smell, someone was already hurt, possibly dead. I’d seen the six brothers’ daggers before—they were sharp enough that a single cut could be fatal.

But we were a step too late. Just one step. If we hadn’t stopped to hear Qian San’s story, these two might still be alive.

Two corpses lay next to a coffin in the burial chamber—Dadan and Wei Changfeng.

Both of them had died clutching their daggers, never letting go. The flashlight revealed wounds all over their bodies, blood pooled everywhere, the scent thick and suffocating.

We could picture their final moments: two men, surrounded by darkness, unable to see each other, only able to hear the other’s breathing and voice. In that pitch-black chamber, their wounds kept piling up until both, drained of blood, finally collapsed.

Destroyed by their own hands.

They couldn’t trust anyone, because they knew if Lord Chu’s sworn brothers found out their secret, death would be the best they could hope for.

If you don’t want to be killed, the best way is to kill first.

Hard truth.

So among the four still alive, the first to die was Qian San, the one without a scheming bone in his body. Then these two followed. Who knew where Qian Er had gone—maybe he’d survived, or maybe he was already another victim of this maze-like tomb.

Lord Chu had called it: those who betray their master are bound to betray their brothers too.

“He’s still breathing,” Zhao Mingkun said, looking at Wei Changfeng.

I rushed over—sure enough, Wei Changfeng was barely alive.

“Brother, I didn’t hold out long enough for you to save me,” Wei Changfeng whispered, his voice faint. “Chu Mei… Chu Mei is back. I don’t know who’s pulling the strings, but she’s somewhere in the tomb. Be careful…”

“This—this dagger, I managed to snatch it…” Wei Changfeng held out a dagger.

His words sent a shiver down my spine. Chu Mei really was back—and she was inside the tomb. But hadn’t Chu Mei already died? Why did everyone insist she was back? Was she really a ghost? Was what we saw in the courtyard a ghost too?

Sweeping my flashlight around, all I saw was darkness—a giant empty coffin stood in the middle of the room, its lid thrown open, nothing inside. Sometimes, what you can’t see is more terrifying than what you can. The real horror lies in emptiness.

Catching my nervous glances, Zhao Mingkun snorted, “Stop shining that thing around. There are no such things as ghosts. If there really were vengeful spirits, there wouldn’t be so many unsolved cases in this world.”

It was funny—Zhao Mingkun could kill without blinking, yet when she spoke, there was a strange righteousness behind her words. I couldn’t help but find it ironic.

I stopped waving the light, staring at the dagger Wei Changfeng gave me.

Qian San had one, Dadan was gripping one, the supposed Lao Liu’s corpse had one, and Wei Changfeng had his own plus the one he’d grabbed.

But where was the last dagger? With Qian Er? Or the killer? Or maybe in Chu Mei’s hands?