Chapter 2: Buried Alive

I only vaguely felt myself sliding down into the coffin at the bottom of the pit, and then everything went black.

When I regained consciousness, the first thing I noticed was the searing pain at the back of my neck. I tried to lift my hand to rub it, but as I raised my arm, I found it blocked by something. I couldn’t even get it past my head.

Opening my eyes, I saw nothing but darkness—utter blackness.

What was going on? Where… where was I?

Panic seized me. I reached out, feeling around me with trembling fingers.

This… this…

I was inside a coffin.

Suddenly, I remembered the empty coffin I had seen before.

“Help!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, pounding with all my strength against the lid above me.

But no matter how hard I pushed, the lid didn’t budge an inch.

Of course—it was nailed shut. And perhaps a heavy layer of earth was already piled on top.

That meant I… I’d been buried alive!

At that realization, every hair on my body stood on end, a cold shiver running through me.

“Ah!” I howled, thrashing with hands and feet, trying desperately to force the lid open. But all my efforts were futile; the coffin lid remained unmoved.

Despair and terror twisted together inside me, my face, hands, and feet going numb, my limbs weak and powerless.

I’d once heard people say that solitary confinement was the most terrifying punishment in prison—pitch blackness, no sound, nothing to see, only a cramped cell to move about in. Even the fiercest criminals, after half a month in solitary, would become nothing but a puddle of mush. Some even went mad.

But those prisoners, compared to me now, were in paradise. I could only lie here; there wasn’t even room to turn over.

I could feel my own breath bouncing right back at me from the coffin lid. Maybe it wouldn’t be long before all the oxygen in this coffin was used up, and I’d suffocate to death.

Why? Why was this happening?

Had I done something wrong?

Even so, would the old master really bury me alive for it?

In my heart, he was always so noble. He had painstakingly raised me, taught me the art of geomancy, and imparted all sorts of wisdom about life. I’d always regarded him as my own father.

How had everything changed so suddenly? How much did he have to hate me, to bury me alive?

I thought of his recent strange behavior. Was this what he called his momentous affair—burying me alive?

Was this the great matter he’d been pondering day and night in his study?

Six Spirits’ Heaven-Terminating Poison.

Again, those words surfaced in my mind.

Now, I seemed to understand. This Six Spirits’ Heaven-Terminating Poison wasn’t some malevolent feng shui force. It was something like the Lone Star Heaven-Terminator—both were deadly poisons arising from rare fated destinies.

Though I still didn’t know exactly what this Six Spirits’ Heaven-Terminating Poison would cause, the old master had no parents, no children, no family—no wife, nothing but me as his disciple, and even then, he only ever allowed me to call him “Master.”

So, it’s highly likely that his fate was precisely the Six Spirits’ Heaven-Terminating Poison.

He raised me for more than ten years, only to bury me alive—perhaps this was the solution he’d devised to rid himself of the poison.

No wonder he’d never answered my questions, only telling me I’d soon understand.

Indeed, now I knew.

But truly, I could never have imagined that the great matter he’d accomplished was burying me alive.

Time passed, minute by excruciating minute. Facing certain death, the terror in my heart gradually faded.

Now, what I felt most keenly was unwillingness.

I thought back on everything—the master’s love, indulgence, and care. I simply couldn’t believe he’d done this. I desperately wished I could see him again, to ask him in person: why?

But that hope was doomed from the start. Perhaps, after I died, my soul would be released. Then I’d become a wandering ghost and could finally see him again.

With that thought, I no longer feared death. I even began to wish for it to come sooner.

I closed my eyes, slowing my breathing, quietly awaiting the end.

In this pitch-black coffin, I lost all sense of time. I didn’t know how long had passed—it felt like an eternity. But I wasn’t suffocating, which meant there was still oxygen to breathe.

The coffin was nailed shut and buried in the earth; there shouldn’t be any air coming in.

What was going on? Was there a gap letting air in?

That must be it. I’d been unconscious for a while—if there were no air, I’d have been dead already.

But then, why?

If the master meant to bury me alive, why leave a gap for air?

Could it be he hadn’t intended to harm me after all?

Impossible. I’d seen there was only the master there. They’d dug the pit and brought the coffin. And it was Uncle Wang who knocked me out from behind.

It was all planned by the two of them.

But then… why leave a gap for air?

Maybe it was an oversight—they simply hadn’t packed the earth tightly enough, and air was seeping in through the cracks.

That must be it.

But even if I didn’t suffocate, what difference did it make? Locked in this nailed-shut coffin, with no food or water, I’d die all the same.

Time crept by, loneliness replacing fear.

Every second stretched into an eternity.

Boom…

Suddenly, a deep, muffled sound rang out.

It was heavy and loud, making my ears ring and my head spin.

At the same time, I felt a violent tremor beneath my back.

An earthquake?

No—the sound was thunder.

Boom… another deep, thunderous crash.

Yes, it was thunder.

I shook my head lightly to clear the ringing from my ears.

Boom…

Another tremendous crash. My head swam, and I lost consciousness once more.

I must have been knocked out by the shock.

When I came to again, every bone in my body felt shattered, pain radiating through my limbs and joints.

“Ugh…” I groaned softly.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw a white ceiling above me. Turning my head, I took in my surroundings.

A hospital?

This was a hospital?

How… how had I ended up here? Wasn’t I buried alive by the master?

I was bewildered all over again. What had I been through?

Could it all have been a dream?

“Hey, Xiao Wei, you’re awake!” A familiar voice came from the other side of my hospital bed.

I knew that voice all too well. Hearing it, my heart jolted and I turned my head quickly.

The movement tugged at my injuries, and I couldn’t help but groan in pain.

“Xiao Wei, you’re finally awake!” Uncle Wang looked at me, his face alight with relief and joy.

Yes, it was Uncle Wang sitting by my bed.

He looked as though he’d kept vigil for a long time—his eyes ringed with dark circles. The joy on his face seemed genuine.

Could it be… had it all truly been a dream? Had the master and Uncle Wang not buried me alive?

No, it had all felt so real. How could it have been a dream?

“What’s wrong, Xiao Wei? Are you feeling unwell? Wait here, I’ll get the doctor!” Uncle Wang said anxiously.

“No… it’s not that…” I managed to say, my voice weak from exhaustion.

I caught my breath, waited until I felt a little better, and then asked, “Why… am I here? Where’s the master?”

“Mr. Zhang… he… Well, Xiao Wei, you’ve just barely escaped with your life. Stop asking so many questions and focus on getting better. When you’re stronger, I’ll tell you everything,” Uncle Wang replied, his expression a little odd.

“No… you have to tell me now… what happened?” I struggled weakly.

“Well… There was a torrential downpour two days ago. The dam at Lingjing Reservoir collapsed and washed you and your coffin right out of the grave. You were lucky—the rescue team found you and saved you.”

Hearing this, I was stunned.

So it hadn’t been a dream. I truly had been buried alive, and only survived because a rare, disastrous rainstorm carried me out.

“But why?” I gasped, looking at Uncle Wang.

He seemed utterly confused and even asked me in return, “Why what?”

“Why… why did you bury me alive?” I demanded through clenched teeth.