“I’m afraid I must refuse.”
Faced with the reddish-brown booklet, Bai Xiaozhi did not take the quill pen.
“I don’t see the point. Let’s not even mention that this thing has long since lost any legal validity. Even if it hadn’t, I still wouldn’t sign something that doesn’t belong to me.”
“Is that so…?” The woman sighed softly, regretfully. “What a shame. Then remember to collect that child’s corpse tomorrow.”
“Wait!”
Bai Xiaozhi’s brows furrowed. Hesitantly, she reached out and grasped the end of the pen.
She slowly drew the quill from the woman’s hand, its tip now hovering over the blank line marked “Name.”
“Just signing this… will save her?”
“Honest business~” The woman curled her lips into a faint smile. “A devil never breaks her word.”
A devil?
Bai Xiaozhi wasn’t sure if she could trust the woman in front of her.
She hadn’t even seen her whole face.
And the woman had a strange, cryptic air to her— like someone with a few screws loose…
Why should she trust her?
But this was about Wu Xiaomi’s life.
Better safe than sorry.
Bai Xiaozhi flipped through the booklet.
There were three pages in total.
The first two were filled with writing she couldn’t read.
The portrait section was also obscured, as if deliberately covered by something.
Only the third page was blank.
Aside from the words “Name,” everything else was scrawled in indecipherable characters from some other world— like visual static.
There was no indication of what kind of entity this page represented, nor any readable instructions.
“All this mystery… There’s bound to be a catch in a contract like this. I want to know what’s written here,” Bai Xiaozhi demanded.
“It’s not a contract— just a small thread of connection. Don’t worry, it won’t restrict your freedom, interfere with your decisions, or threaten your life in any way… For you, it brings only benefits. No side effects whatsoever.”
The more she spoke, the more suspicious it sounded.
This was starting to feel like a scam.
“Relax,” the woman sighed, almost sentimentally. “The kind of person who could outwit you hasn’t been born yet. Only that fool would jump headfirst into a well.”
It’s just a piece of paper. No matter how strange this woman’s words were, it was still just a piece of paper. What harm could a signature do?
Bai Xiaozhi hesitated no longer, and signed her name.
Her strokes were smooth and graceful, each character elegant and refined. The final stroke landed.
Bai Xiaozhi stared in shock as the page began to fill in on its own, then rapidly translated itself into the same alien script she couldn’t decipher.
Ordinary paper didn’t do that.
“This isn’t some prank… Who the hell are you?”
She looked up.
But the woman was gone.
The booklet had vanished too.
All that remained was a faint fragrance in the air, and an echoing whisper—
“Tomorrow, descend three hours early. I’ll tell you what to do.”
“A little more to the left— yes, that’s it. Now straight ahead… Okay, now veer just slightly up and to the right.”
Wu Xiaomi was using her Spirit-Hunting instincts to sense vibrations in the ground, guiding Lulutina step by step.
Lulutina was dripping with sweat as she softened the earth with her palms.
Mud and rock liquefied beneath her touch, flowing down the sloped tunnel and into the sewer system— before gradually hardening again.
In a few days, when the maintenance crew arrived, they’d probably curse to high heaven when they discovered the entire city drainage system choked beyond recognition.
But Wu Xiaomi only cared about surviving tomorrow night.
If she ended up a fugitive afterward, with ancestors getting insulted left and right, well… that would be tomorrow’s problem.
“We’re almost there. Slow down—keep it quiet.”
It was exactly midnight.
Lulutina had been softening the tunnel walls for six straight hours.
Her entire body was soaked, breath coming in ragged gasps, teetering on the edge of collapse.
Holding your arms up for six hours was hard enough.
Maintaining a constant flow of spirit energy on top of that? Nearly impossible.
Empty bottles of Spirit Energy supplements littered the tunnel behind her.
“I got this… huff… don’t worry…” Lulutina switched hands, propping herself up. “I’m a professional. Your credits won’t go to waste.”
Then— within the shadowed corridor— a sliver of light appeared.
It was no wider than a pinhole, yet in this sealed tunnel, it blazed like the sun.
The museum’s lights!
They’d made it!
“Careful.”
Wu Xiaomi used the faint glow to examine the spatial map Lulutina had drawn.
Her Spirit-Hunting instincts allowed her to detect the subtlest vibrations from living beings aboveground— but they were useless against lifeless, silent structures.
By comparing the locations of the night guards marked on the map with her current sensory readings, Wu Xiaomi could pinpoint their exact position underground.
“A bit more to the front-left— no, don’t break the surface. That’s it, now keep going forward…”
The last stretch of the tunnel was short, but by far the most perilous.
If the guards heard even the faintest sound, everything they’d worked for would go up in smoke.
“Clack—”
The light above dimmed suddenly.
A foot had stepped right onto the weakened spot that Lulutina had previously softened.
Only a thin layer of floor tile remained—just a bit more pressure, and it would collapse completely.
“Did you hear something?”
One of the patrolling guards furrowed his brow atop the tile. “Sounded like water to me… There’s no sewer beneath the museum, is there?”
“Not sure,” another guard on post replied. “Lots of refugees have descended lately. I heard the city’s been expanding and part of that includes additions to the drainage system. Maybe it passes near here.”
“Shh. Let me listen again.”
The guard tilted his head, listening.
Wu Xiaomi and Lulutina froze, not daring to even breathe.
The sound of water came from the liquefied earth— every inch of soil Lulutina dissolved slid downward along the slope.
It was unavoidable.
And the closer they got to the surface, the clearer the sound became.
“…Gone again,” the patrolling guard finally said, shaking his head. “Probably just my imagination.”
“You sure you’re not just getting old? Sounds like that aging prostate of yours is acting up— hearing running water even in your dreams,” the other guard quipped, laughing.
“Screw you. Not everyone shares your problems. I’m fine, thanks.”
The patrol guard walked off, grumbling.
Only then did Wu Xiaomi and Lulutina allow themselves to breathe again.
They had nearly suffocated.
The map didn’t mark moving patrols— those had to be handled in real time, relying on judgment and reaction.
[Private Message — Wu Xiaomi: I’ll handle sensing. You keep moving—thirty degrees to the front-left, about half a meter forward.]
Just to be safe, they switched from public mic to private chat.
Lulutina also slowed down, doing her best to minimize the sound of flowing mud.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly. In the narrow tunnel, all that remained was the pounding of their hearts.
[Private Message — Wu Xiaomi: We’re here. From this point on, go straight up.]
Wu Xiaomi grabbed Xiao Luobo.
Xiao Luobo bared her teeth and clawed at the collar around her neck, tongue sticking out from the tight choke.
[Private Message — Wu Xiaomi: Look at the chain I’m holding—it’s hanging perfectly vertical. You climb exactly along that chain’s direction. No deviation.]
In a twisting, slanted tunnel like this, there was no way to visually determine a straight upward path. That’s why they needed the chain as a reference.
Xiao Luobo gave Wu Xiaomi the middle finger.
[Private Message — Wu Xiaomi: Good, that’s it. Keep going… bit by bit… perfect!]
Suddenly, light appeared above.
And just beyond that glow…
The ribbon inside the display case was within reach.
[Private Message — Wu Xiaomi: Corrode a small hole. I’ll send Xiao Luobo in.]
The hole slowly widened.
Wu Xiaomi lifted Xiao Luobo to the opening.
She crawled up onto the display platform.
Slowly, she reached for the Resonator.
And the moment her tiny hand touched the ribbon—
“Riiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiing!”
The alarm exploded into life.
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