Fourteen Fourteen

Yuan Hanshuang was hanging on the cliff wall. The cold wind blowing past dried the sweat streaming down her back. After kicking away Gudeze at a critical moment, she relied on her exceptional reflexes and awareness to avoid vital points, curling into a ball to lessen the impact of falling rocks and dirt. At the same time, she accurately threw a Tang dao knife into a crevice of the rock face.

“Bang—” The blade sank deep into the hard earth and stone, embedding over a meter in. Fortunately, due to lack of funds, she had chosen a version connected by steel wire rather than the wireless high-tech retrieval model, which inadvertently saved her life.

Absurdly, during the fall, Yuan Hanshuang felt an irresistible force forcibly breaking her out of her mimetic synchronization state. Now deprived of the enhancement from mimetic synchronization, she could only rely on her extraordinary physical condition to endure.

Over the past two years, Yuan Hanshuang had never stopped her basic training. Rain or shine, she ran ten kilometers daily, did ten sets of push-ups and pull-ups, and climbed stairs back and forth three times without fail. Though she had awakened spiritual mimetic power, as a former martial arts champion, she trusted in her innate physical strength more.

Thanks to her persistent training, she could now barely suspend herself on the cliff like dried meat hanging, using the steel wire ejected from the dagger’s end.

“This can’t go on, it’s a death sentence,” she thought, glancing down at a deep pit below, likely dozens of meters deep, with red-hot magma flowing back in. She immediately dismissed the idea of a hard landing and instead surveyed the area above.

Since she had fallen from a collapsed cave deep within the mountain, she was already far inside the range, and given her current state, free climbing that high was nearly impossible.

Fortunately, there was a glimmer of hope. Above, a tunnel had not completely collapsed—just a middle section was blocked, leaving a narrow opening on the cliff wall amid some winding, severed passageways.

Taking a deep breath, Yuan Hanshuang pulled another dagger from her spatial storage. She was grateful for the small package Teacher Xiao Yunmeng had slipped her before leaving; otherwise, today would have ended badly.

Gripping two daggers, she painfully and arduously climbed without spiritual synchronization, inching upward nearly ten meters.

“Ha ha, finally,” she exhaled. Retracting the dagger, she grabbed the cold, smooth surface of the passage floor and summoned every last ounce of strength. Veins bulging, she flipped herself forward like a carp, landing heavily inside.

Fearing the tunnel's instability and further collapse, she staggered forward a bit, then collapsed like a dead fish where she lay.

The near-limit climbing left her head buzzing. Had she not eaten beforehand, she never would have had the strength to climb.

After resting for half an hour and regaining some strength, Yuan Hanshuang rose to tend to her wounds and a slightly dislocated ankle.

“Thank goodness for the emergency healing spray, hiss—” She clamped a bandage between her teeth, grimacing as she wrapped a thick layer around her back and tied a crooked bow over her chest.

The spray’s healing effect was limited, only sealing the wound's surface, but it came with mild anesthesia, greatly relieving the pain—a true blessing for humanity.

“This place is truly cursed, no mimetic synchronization, and no signal,” she muttered. Without an optical brain, she only had a simple secondhand communicator.

Unable to send a rescue signal, she had to rely on self-rescue.

Now that she was in this predicament, Yuan Hanshuang wasn’t in a hurry. She skillfully pulled several crystal cores from her spatial storage and popped them into her mouth.

With no one around, she chewed them noisily like candy.

Since her appetite had increased, her bite force had grown exponentially. Once, she secretly tested it and left teeth marks on a steel plate, nearly frightening herself.

After calming her nerves by eating a few crystal cores, she adjusted her condition, dusted off her clothes, and gripped her knives anew.

She hugged the wall, alertly observing and listening for any movement.

“This tunnel bears heavy signs of artificial excavation. Could an earthquake have thrown me into an ancient tomb?”

Unlike the pit and cave she had fallen through, the tunnel walls were adorned with complex, mysterious patterns, including exquisite bas-reliefs and brightly painted pigments—clearly crafted by intelligent beings.

Yuan Hanshuang knew little about interstellar relics, but from the ancient, obscure carvings and thick dust on the floor, she guessed the passage had existed for a very long time.

“This tunnel doesn’t seem to be made with rammed earth or stone. Strange materials, never seen before. Could there be traps?”

The pigments’ colors were surprisingly vivid after all this time. It reminded her of the pyramids in her past life, where some interior paintings contained poisonous pigments that could lethally harm tomb robbers when the tomb was opened, along with countless bizarre traps and devices.

Cautiously, she donned a mask and took out a trekking pole. She always prepared thoroughly before these expeditions.

“Hm? What’s that fragrance?”

Just after these preparations, a strong, alluring scent wafted from deep within the tunnel.

This aroma was special—intensely tantalizing, not a hunger of the body but a burning thirst deep within the soul, yearning to be swallowed whole.

Instantly, Yuan Hanshuang grew wary.

Since adding insectoid crystal cores to her luxurious menu, smelling something so fragrant in such a dark, isolated tunnel was a clear sign: a high-level insectoid lurked ahead.

Her worst instincts tightened her grip on both knife and trekking pole.

Soon, the first fork in the path appeared.

“The left side smells fragrant, the right doesn’t—likely a trap. Right is a no-go,” she decided.

Three seconds later, she watched her trekking pole shredded into fragments by a hidden weapon, sweat pouring down her forehead.

Without mimetic synchronization, relying solely on physical strength meant that stepping unguarded onto that path would have had terrible consequences.

Silently, she backtracked to the fork and chose the left path.

Nothing happened.

“No scent on the left, but the middle smells strong. Right is scentless—choose left,” she reasoned.

This time, she threw a stone ahead.

In an instant, the stone was sliced to powder by invisible lasers, then blown away by an unseen wind.

Her scalp tingled.

Third time, fourth time, fifth time—

Yuan Hanshuang gave up testing and simply followed the scent.

She realized that every few steps there was a fork; from the moment she woke until now, she had encountered dozens of branches, traps, hidden weapons, and invisible dangers. Only the path she could smell was safe.

The further she went, the stranger the forks became, some concealed behind traps.

Everywhere were deadly dead ends, only one path alive—and the scent guided her.

“Did I stumble upon the right path by accident?” she wondered, passing another fork.

The empty tunnel echoed solely with the sound of her footsteps.

She had no idea how long she had walked, only that the terrain gradually descended, and the air grew hotter and hotter.

Wiping sweat as she walked, hunger gnawed heavier.

Finally, after descending a long stairway dropping over ten meters, a dilapidated archway appeared ahead, beneath which lay a pronounced fault line.

The faint fragrance suddenly thickened, making her mouth water.

A faint glow appeared in the darkness.

The light was dim but ethereal, floating in midair.

As she cautiously stepped inside, a ring of extinguished torches around the square suddenly flared to life, illuminating the entire underground hall brilliantly.

Startled, Yuan Hanshuang took two steps back, holding her knife horizontally before her in a Tai Chi sword stance. After confirming she was alone, she relaxed slightly and scanned the hall.

The hall was vast but empty. Aside from a circle of torches, only a carved pillar stood in the center, above which floated a silver crystal core. The intoxicating fragrance emanated from this core.

“Oh my God, it’s a crystal core?”

From afar, it was hard to tell, but up close, the crystal core was nearly large enough for several people to embrace at once.

After ten minutes of confirming no other traps, she tried to lift it.

It wouldn’t budge.

Reluctantly, Yuan Hanshuang squatted beside the enormous crystal core, examining it carefully.

To put it in perspective, third-tier insectoid crystal cores were only two finger joints in size. She had seen saint-tier insectoid cores in illustrated books, about the size of a skullcap—nowhere near this one.

“If even the crystal core is this huge, how colossal must the insectoid have been in life? Could it be the queen’s? If so, thank heavens she’s dead; otherwise, I’d be doomed here.”

But if the queen were dead, humans would have been celebrating across the galaxy with champagne long ago. There was no way the news could have been kept secret until now.

Yuan Hanshuang didn’t understand but couldn’t shake a premonition of impending fortune.

Such a large storable crystal core, if sold outside, could fetch a fortune. As for the relic at the cave’s bottom, with all these traps, the presence of the core here meant money was the priority.

“Surviving disaster brings future blessings.”

Luckily, her spatial storage was large enough.

She happily transferred the massive core inside and prepared to retrace her steps.

Earlier, she had measured a branch near the cliff wall, thinking with careful maneuvering she might climb further.

If she could ascend, she might encounter a rescue team or find a signal to send a distress call.

Just as she returned to the cliff wall, she heard voices outside.

After surviving near death and wandering alone in this godforsaken place, hearing human voices felt like reuniting with long-lost kin—filling her with joy.

She peered out cautiously.

Above the bottomless pit outside, two figures hovered in the air.