4 exploded.

Cannibalism was out of the question.

Qin Zhen was a rational zombie who adhered firmly to her principles; she would never do such a thing. Out of respect for human advanced technology, she reluctantly gave up trying to regain control and silently endured, accompanying Fu Qi as they wandered through the tomb.

The tomb was not large—just a few hundred square meters—shaped roughly like the letter ‘I’, with only two traps along the passageway.

For Fu Qi, agile and quick-witted, avoiding the traps was no challenge. Qin Zhen, however, didn’t even dodge; two bolts pierced her body.

Fortunately, she felt no pain. She pulled out the crossbow bolts and fiercely shoved them back into the trap holes. Her boldness drew several exaggerated gasps of admiration from Fu Qi.

The two circled the tomb but found no other remains, only some burial pottery, weapons, jewelry, and the like in the ear chamber. The artifacts were old, some had lost their original function due to age, but all were intact—just arranged chaotically.

When Fu Qi inquired, Qin Zhen confidently admitted she had moved them.

Burial goods belong to humans once unearthed, and those still inside her tomb, untouched, were her own. What was wrong with rearranging them?

She countered Fu Qi, “The signal, where is it?”

They had covered the area; the signal should have been picked up by now.

Fu Qi had earlier torn a piece of cloth from his shirt to wrap his hand. Throughout their time in the chamber, he had been tapping and observing the murals. Now, crouched over Qin Zhen’s coffin and the white bones within, he replied without looking up, “None.”

“Advanced technology, yet poor signal?”

“It’s because we’re too deep underground here.”

Qin Zhen felt a twinge of disappointment.

No signal meant no contact outside, no escape.

It was already the fifty-seventh hour since Fu Qi had fallen into the tomb. His mental and physical state still seemed decent, but without food, death was inevitable.

If he died, Qin Zhen truly had no hope of leaving.

Though she accused Fu Qi of slyness and once said she would inherit his pants after his death, deep down she wanted him alive a little longer—even if they never found a signal.

“Are you thirsty?” Qin Zhen asked.

“Thirsty.” Fu Qi still didn’t look up but then asked, “Can I lie down in the coffin and try?”

Qin Zhen no longer disliked him. She felt a compassion for someone near death and nodded.

“Um…” Fu Qi glanced up, indicating there were still remains inside.

“That’s my husband.” Qin Zhen lacked enthusiasm. She didn’t even want to protect him anymore. “Just take him out—that’s enough.”

Fu Qi raised his eyebrows, bending down to pick up the bones, weighing and examining them as he went. He distractedly asked, “I remember your husband was just piled on the ground before. So, do newlyweds sleep in separate coffins?”

Qin Zhen gave him a disdainful look, ignoring him.

Noticing her despondent demeanor, Fu Qi smiled and asked again, “Bad relationship? Did you two fight?”

Qin Zhen thought he was crazy and gave a perfunctory answer, “My husband is a gentleman who wanted me to sleep alone in a spacious, comfortable coffin.”

“Shouldn’t your husband love you?”

Qin Zhen hadn’t expected that line but quickly reconciled with her long-dormant mind and stubbornly replied, “My husband not only loves me but is a gentleman.”

“Your husband might love you, but he definitely isn’t a gentleman.” Fu Qi had already climbed into the coffin; his voice came muffled through the wood.

Qin Zhen felt he was teasing her. She was about to dismiss it with a hum but then noticed the pale skull piled at her feet, its empty eye sockets seeming to accuse her of cold-heartedness.

Hesitating, Qin Zhen picked up the skull and stood beside the coffin, loudly scolding inside, “You insult my husband! Apologize!”

“No insult.” Fu Qi was examining the chaotic scratches inside the coffin, unfazed. “Your husband can’t be a gentleman.”

“Why? Explain!”

Fu Qi considered his words carefully and politely said, “Maybe because your husband is actually female remains.”

Qin Zhen: “…What?”

“Compared to the narrow, funnel-shaped pelvis of males, females have wider, rounder pelves due to childbirth. Based on bone length, width, and development, your husband’s gender is female, about 1.6 meters tall, and likely underage at death… Didn’t you know?”

Fu Qi’s explanation was clear and precise, his questioning tone filled with surprise and doubt, leaving Qin Zhen dizzy.

She truly didn’t know.

In just a minute, she not only revised her sexual orientation but went from a principled good zombie to a criminal.

This was truly perverse.

She froze, as if transported back to long ago, when she had just awakened from the coffin and still hadn’t fully controlled her body—back when these bones lay tightly against her.

Seeing her nearly breaking expression, Fu Qi comforted, “It’s okay. Maybe there wasn’t a marriage law when you got married, and nowadays humans are open and inclusive, respecting all orientations.”

…

Silence returned to the tomb.

After Fu Qi finished inspecting inside the coffin and climbed out, he saw Qin Zhen still holding the skull with a dazed look. He smiled faintly, then kindly said, “I’m done. Want me to put your husband back?”

Qin Zhen’s lips twitched awkwardly. She said, “No, I’ll do it myself later.”

“Alright.” Fu Qi nodded, gently advising, “Living together as a couple inevitably brings friction; mutual tolerance is key to lasting.”

…

Qin Zhen felt utterly bewildered. Was it her long underground confinement making her unstable? Was Fu Qi crazy? Or had human society developed so rapidly it was beyond a zombie’s comprehension?

Her mind felt as if soaked in alcohol for thirty years, dizzy. When Fu Qi spoke again, she suddenly snapped to attention, hastily intercepting him.

“Aren’t you thirsty? I’ll take you to find water!”

Indeed, there was a water source inside the tomb.

By turning the imposing tiger-head stone statue in the left ear chamber, the stone wall would open, revealing a hidden pool behind.

“Great.” Fu Qi said.

Qin Zhen had planned to wait until Fu Qi behaved better before revealing this, expecting surprise or joy, but he replied calmly, simply “Great.”

This meant the water source was expected.

Yet he never mentioned it, nor hinted or searched for it.

Qin Zhen narrowed her eyes at him. Fu Qi met her gaze with a sly smile.

She knew he was waiting for her to ask, but she refused, holding his gaze before turning cold and heading to the ear chamber.

This water source was discovered accidentally during a previous exploration. Proud of her civilized and clean habits, Qin Zhen took advantage of it to wash herself and her “husband.”

After so long, her husband’s bones had been scrubbed white enough to reflect light; her clothes were reduced to tatters… Yes, too clean!

Qin Zhen’s rusted brain suddenly sped up. After understanding, she looked back and noticed spots of dried water stains on the dusty ear chamber floor, besides the overly neat main tomb and herself.

She didn’t find it odd after staying so long, but an outsider would see these clues clearly.

Fu Qi must have noticed these signs early on but concealed it—how scheming!

Muttering to herself, Qin Zhen turned the tiger head; with a rumble, the stone wall opened, revealing a hollow stone chamber.

The chamber was small, visible to the far end. Moisture clung to the soil and walls, and at the back lay a dark pool about half the size of a basketball court, its ripples radiating mystery and chill.

Fu Qi shone his watch’s light, circling the pool as he examined.

He was thorough, tapping the walls and lifting damp soil for close inspection.

Even though Qin Zhen clearly told him the water level fluctuated over time, the bottom was deep mud, and there was no exit, he insisted on a personal investigation.

The process was long and boring for Qin Zhen. She watched idly for a while, then picked up a stone to doodle on the wall.

Time passed unknowingly; just as her enthusiasm waned, Fu Qi’s voice came from behind.

“Bored?”

Qin Zhen glanced at him, clutching the stone.

Fu Qi smiled and said, “Want me to find you a movie?”

Qin Zhen brightened instantly but reason stopped her from nodding. She demurely said, “Maybe not? The watch still needs to find the signal.”

That watch was crucial for their escape.

“No problem,” Fu Qi said. “I have one more question. Solve it, and we can leave.”

The sudden good news stunned Qin Zhen.

When she first learned Fu Qi carried a watch to contact the outside world, she was thrilled beyond belief. But as time dragged on, hope of escape dimmed, almost believing it was a false promise. Unexpectedly, Fu Qi now dropped such hopeful news.

And this time, his words were certain.

If he was willing to waste the watch’s power on movies, he must have a definite way out!

“What question? Tell me!” Qin Zhen urgently asked.

Fu Qi asked, “Is there any place in this tomb I haven’t been to?”

“No.”

Fu Qi nodded, then asked, “What movie do you want to watch?”

Without thinking, Qin Zhen said, “Zombies.”

“No such movies on the watch,” Fu Qi said. “That genre is too old; hasn’t appeared for decades. Choose another category.”

“Then Taoist… no!” Qin Zhen abruptly realized, eyes wide, “You mean just that one?”

“Yes.” Fu Qi always smiled when Qin Zhen got emotional, this time was no exception. Smiling warmly, he reassured, “Don’t worry.”

Then he calmly said, “I’ve basically figured it out. This place is far north, atop a mountain range. Before modern civilization arrived, many hunting clans lived here. Water sources and game were matters of life and death for them, so their tombs often connected to water…”

The burial goods included many pottery pieces, crossbow bolts, and jewelry mixing jade, gold, silver, and animal teeth. Now, they also had a water source.

There were no inscriptions or dedications, only hunting totems painted on the walls—Fu Qi emphasized that Qin Zhen’s modern doodles didn’t count. Considering the construction style, tomb scale, and layout, the occupant was likely a person of some status but little real power from a clan around four hundred years ago, such as a princess.

“Once these are understood, we can leave,” Fu Qi concluded.

Qin Zhen gaped, then after a moment asked, “How can you be sure it’s four hundred years?”

“That’s because this is a tomb within a tomb,” Fu Qi said, lifting his chin. “Didn’t I tell you? There’s another tomb above. That’s where I fell from.”

Qin Zhen was stunned.

Living alone so long, she never knew she had neighbors above!

“The upper tomb is that of a county prince from over four hundred years ago. Grave robbers have visited many times; it’s nearly a tourist spot,” Fu Qi said. “Thanks to him, your tomb is sealed tight. If the stone wall hadn’t exploded and I hadn’t stumbled down by accident, I would never have guessed there was a small tomb hidden here.”

The flood of information left Qin Zhen’s rusty mind in a fog. She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, finally asking, “How do you know… everything?”

“I don’t know everything,” Fu Qi smiled meaningfully. “It’s that you know nothing.”

Qin Zhen nodded, fully agreeing. She had been trapped too long and truly knew nothing.

Clearly, communicating with the outside world and constantly absorbing new information and knowledge was vital.

As she gathered her thoughts, Fu Qi spoke again, “No Taoist-themed movies on the watch either, but there are some big international films about biological research. Want to settle for those?”

Qin Zhen was still sorting through the complex new knowledge and shook her head, “Not yet.”

“Then shall we leave the tomb first?”

Qin Zhen nodded vaguely.

After her consent, they left the stone chamber. Qin Zhen was absent-minded. Fu Qi took off his watch, quickly tapped it a few times, then threw it against a distant stone wall.

Qin Zhen turned at the sound, watching the watch tumble down the wall. Just as she was about to ask in shock, the watch’s hands flickered faint green light, then suddenly exploded into fragments before her eyes.