The three indistinct characters dispersed in the tomb chamber; the amorous scent of sweet basil was incredibly improper on the ice-cold yellow loess and stones; Li Shiyi picked the smoking pipe up, and considered it carefully, and then felt the ground faintly vibrate, the sound of swift, uneven, hoofbeat-like footsteps rushed, approaching from the distance with the force of a hot knife through butter. Tu Laoyao’s body trembled violently, and the fat on either side shook as if struck over and over by Lei Gong; [1] the group gazed at him, bewildered, and saw that he’d fished the Hun’ce Command out from his pocket with some difficulty, pinched between numb fingers, and he said, stammeringly, “F…fuck, it’s shaking!” Li Shiyi thought to herself this wasn’t good; she held the smoking pipe horizontally across her chest, just having fallen into a defensive stance when she heard a burst of ghostly breeze attack, coming icily behind her head. She pressed her mouth firmly shut, the veins on her ...