Chapter 31: It Seems Our Paths to Survival Are Not the Same

"Boom—"

The thunderous sound of a stone door slamming shut severed the three parts of sunlight that had just managed to slip inside, leaving the tall, elegant silhouette of the newcomer veiled in shadow.

"Ugh! It hurts—"

The bone-chilling cold against her bare feet jolted Song Ruozhao into consciousness. Struggling to steady her reeling head, she strained her eyes to make sense of the darkness.

She quickly recalled: while returning from the Qinling Mountains in a carriage, the third sister of the Song family had caught her off guard and drugged her.

Now, she was locked in this sunless secret chamber.

The exposed bare feet were like a silent witness, explaining exactly why she was imprisoned here.

Just as she grasped the situation, a blade as sharp as moonlight descended through the air, resting precisely against the nape of her neck. Any slight movement from either of them would cause the steel to slice into her delicate throat as easily as peeling a melon.

The shadows remained silent, yet Song Ruozhao could clearly see something even more piercing than the blade: the third sister’s razor-sharp, brilliant gaze.

The third sister asked coldly, "My second sister, Song Ruozhao—where is she?"

"In the halls of the King of Hell."

"Did you send her on her way?"

"Is that what she told you?"

"..."

A chilling sense of humor permeated the air.

The third sister’s curved blade was as supple as silk, yet it drew a thin line of blood. Having used her connections in the Ministry of Revenue to investigate for days, she already suspected the identity of this impostor. "No household in or out of the city has reported a missing person. Every young woman visiting Chang'an has a detailed origin and a clear destination. That makes you... someone without a household register."

"You are like a drowned ghost—caught between heaven and earth, a blurred line, appearing out of thin air, nameless and rankless, a soul wandering among the living."

The third sister’s voice was eerie, yet it possessed the melodic quality of jade beads striking one another as she admired the blood-stained throat.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, but Song Ruozhao quickly composed herself. With remarkable audacity, she lied through her teeth, "I did not appear out of thin air. It was your sister's soul that invited me to enter this game."

The third sister smirked, unimpressed. "Invited you for what?"

"One shouldn't deceive the mountains, and one shouldn't deceive the waters, for there are many wronged spirits beneath the depths. Naturally, she invited me to help you resolve the impasse and wash away the injustice."

The identical pair of eyes, clear as gems infused with a celestial spirit, made the third sister tremble. She sheathed her blade. "Since you believe in ghosts and spirits, you might as well provide proof."

"How?"

"These Eight Trigrams and mystical formations were designed by us sisters. Unless you can walk out of here alive, I shall believe you were chosen by my second sister herself. If you perish, then it means my second sister has come to claim you personally."

The light flickered and died, and with it, the figure vanished, leaving her trapped in darkness. Song Ruozhao pulled out the tinder she carried with her and ignited a small flame. The layout looked familiar, and she quickly assessed her predicament.

Seeing the fire, Moyu-er (Little Fish) immediately crawled out from her elaborate, fairy-like hair bun to warm itself. The air grew heavy with the savory scent of roasted shrimp. "Zhaozhao, it’s fire! It’s light! It’s hope!"

"Keep your voice down, don't extinguish the flame!"

"..." The shrimp stiffened its neck, breathing in tiny, shallow gasps, terrified that a slip of the tongue might bring disaster.

"The oxygen in the room is depleting. In less time than it takes for a candle to burn out, we will perish here." Song Ruozhao stepped lightly, surveying her surroundings. Six stone doors were arranged in a rhombus.

"The layout appears to be a Hexagram formation. Outside those six doors, the terrain is treacherous—there are hidden arrows and flood traps; moving one piece triggers the whole. Only by finding the key and neutralizing them simultaneously can we break the trap."

Moyu-er turned at the sound. "Hm? You have X-ray vision now?"

"Yes."

Moyu-er was shocked, quickly covering its shrimp body with its claws, feeling utterly violated. "How did I not know about this?!"

"It's possible! It's a possibility for the future! Why isn't that a 'yes'?"

"..." The shrimp was speechless.

Song Ruozhao, maintaining her solemn composure, looked for something to serve as a writing tool. Seeing the powerful, sturdy claws of the shrimp, she grabbed one as a tool. Ignoring the creature's reflexive, high-pitched squeals of protest, she focused on sketching. As her thoughts cleared, a pattern resembling the movement of six stars appeared on the ground.

Finally, Moyu-er stopped at the center, the little red shrimp marking their current location.

The shrimp tenderly groomed its claws with its mouth, finally recovering, and scanned the area with its eyes. "Why are you drawing the layout of the Song residence?"

"I’ve long found the layout of the Song house peculiar compared to other residences in the ward. It stands apart—now I see the mystery behind it."

"The upper part is the courtyard, the lower part leads to the secret chamber. The stars are divided into six points, all interconnected. This is a formation based on Mohist mechanical arts."

"Zhaozhao, that means only the real Song family members would know how to break it. You’re a fake!" Moyu-er wailed. "Oh no, this is aimed right at you!"

The six doors were ominous, flashing before Song Ruozhao’s eyes like ghosts. "If each door corresponds to one of the six sisters, the primary task is to determine the direction so we can deduce the solution."

She patted the shrimp’s back. "Moyu-er, go find which stone door is closest to a water source—the kind of water that carries the stench of copper."

"Will it taste better?"

"???"

Her mind-reading ability recalled what the youngest Song brother liked, and she smiled with a sense of fated certainty. "Song Ji’s courtyard is to the north, adjacent to the rockery and pond. His wealth is stored in a treasure chest submerged in that very water."

"The direction of the treasure chest is our compass."

Moyu-er looked convinced, dragging its plump, worm-like body along to sniff out the treasure.

Observing the six stone doors by candlelight, Song Ruozhao was drawn to the murals carved into them. The women in the paintings were all the same person: sometimes holding a brush, sometimes reading, sometimes playing with flowers or feeding poultry. They all appeared at ease, their demeanor gentle and warm.

She could rule out the Song sisters, but the features were identical. Song Ruozhao realized this was the late matriarch of the Song family.

While the figures were captured with exquisite spirit, the landscapes and flowers were painted with a sense of indifference; the lines were smooth only for the sake of mimicry, not realism.

The places one tries hardest to hide are always the keys to the solution. Touching the raised textures of the reliefs, the plants and scenery of the four seasons unfolded beneath her fingertips, rising and falling in turn.

"Zhaozhao!" The shrimp claw waved vigorously, creating a fan-like blur. It returned to claim credit, looking for a snack. "It’s this door! It backs onto the water source where the treasure is hidden. How shall we cleverly seize this fortune?"

Song Ruozhao: "Are we here to hunt for treasure?"

The shrimp’s eyes were filled with desire. "Aren't we?"

"Moyu-er, don't worship a fish; even fish only have a seven-second memory."

The shrimp brain nodded vigorously.

"Moyu-er, climb onto the cuckoo bird in this mural and see if its eyes can turn."

"Why?"

"The 'Door of Fear' (Du Men) symbolizes avoidance and obstruction. Doesn't that refer to that blockhead?"

The shrimp claw pushed hard. "Got it! I turned them white!"

"The youngest brother’s courtyard is in the north, so the right side is east. East is the position of honor. Among the Song sisters, the eldest is a government official. If we view her as the honorable one, the 'Open Door' (Kai Men) and 'Rest Door' (Xiu Men) in the Eight Trigrams represent auspicious signs, leading to a smooth official career. To break this direction, the eldest sister is the key..."

Her gaze lingered on the book the mother was reading in the painting, and Song Ruozhao quickly drew a connection. "Moyu-er, the mechanism for this door lies in the *Ode of Self-Mourning* held in the figure's hands and the poem on the floor."

"Why?"

"That piece is the work of Ban Jieyu, and the other is a poem by Shangguan Wan'er. Since the eldest Song sister is famous for her literary talent, these two historical figures are her idols."

Moyu-er could have cut off its own claw to give her a thumbs-up.

"Zhaozhao, what about the door for the third sister? Ugh! She..." Mentioning her made the shrimp’s whiskers tremble; it still felt the sting of that sharp, three-tongued woman behind it.

Song Ruozhao took control, breaking the puzzle layer by layer:

"The 'Door of Shock' (Jing Men) represents litigation and dispute; no one fits it but the third sister. Look in the corner of the mural for a gavel or a scale weight—"

"The fourth sister’s direction is the 'Door of Scenery' (Jing Men). Moyu-er, look for the Four Treasures of the Study on this door."

"This door must be for the fifth sister..."

Moyu-er, having learned a bit, preempted her: "The fifth sister is great at storytelling! The key must be in this picture book! Zhaozhao, let me handle this one!"

"No! Don't touch it—it's a trap!"

Song Ruozhao’s sudden, certain panic made Moyu-er pull back its claw as if electrocuted.

"The youngest sister is the most deprived of maternal love among the five. I once saw her staring wistfully at withered lotuses—I heard those were her late mother's favorites. What she longs for is family, is maternal love..."

"If the second sister represents the 'Door of Injury' (Shang Men), then the youngest, filled with sorrow and born at the cost of her mother's life, must represent the 'Door of Death' (Si Men)."

"The 'Door of Injury' corresponds to loss; the mural has a broken hair ornament. The 'Door of Death'—if my hypothesis is correct—should be those six withered lotus flowers in the corner of the mural."

"Are you sure?"

"I am sure."

As she prepared to set the gears of fate in motion, the shrimp hesitated. "Zhaozhao, once the mechanism is triggered, we won't be greeted by a hail of arrows and a mountain flood, will we?"

"If they used such intellectual effort just to take my life, then my life must be quite valuable." She said this with a light, airy smile.

"..."

The shrimp was speechless, but quickly turned optimistic. "Fortunately, in the otherworldly realm of our spirit pets, finding life in the midst of death means a rebirth."

The gears of fate turned, and as if on cue, the rotten luck arrived. Hundreds of arrows pierced the darkness like shooting stars. Hidden arrows are hard to guard against; Song Ruozhao’s pupils contracted as one arrowhead struck her heart with lethal precision.

*Life, Injury, Rest, Obstruction, Scenery, Death, Shock, Open.*

These eight characters intertwined with her thoughts like a barrage of falling stars.

"Damn it... one move short. I'm still missing... the 'Door of Life' (Sheng Men)—"

Her perception and speech stalled in time.

The sudden piercing pain was followed by hot blood splattering everywhere. It landed on Moyu-er, whose sparkling sadness was far more intense than the surging blood.

Zhaozhao held on to a breath as thin as a spider's silk: "The Door of Life... is there..."

"Waaah, Zhaozhao! We have no Door of Life left—"

"Waaah, Zhaozhao, where is our Door of Life—"

"..."

Zhaozhao's eyes, like seeds embedded in silk, stared unblinkingly at the mural.