Chapter: Traps, Rains of Arrows, and Secrets Beneath the Ship

Zhang Nian dashed about like a headless chicken, his erratic movements triggering a chain reaction, much like the flapping of a butterfly's wings unleashing chaos. The balance of the massive ship was shattered, and a resonating hum filled its hollow structure. The noise signaled that the mechanisms of meticulously designed death traps, left by the late clan leader, had been activated.

"Retreat!"
Xiao Ge's thunderous roar jolted the dazed group back to reality, but his voice was soon drowned out by an overwhelming barrage of arrows. From the cliffs above, countless bows and crossbows, seemingly controlled by an invisible force, unleashed a torrent of death. The group was instantly engulfed in the shadow of impending doom.

They narrowly survived the first wave, scrambling desperately for cover, but the arrows showed no sign of ceasing. Less than a second later, an even fiercer rain of arrows descended upon them. The sky was saturated with the deadly projectiles, falling like a torrential downpour. In a critical moment, Zhang Qiming executed his "Arrow-Breaking Stance." The deadly blade in his hand danced with unparalleled speed, creating a vacuum around him, free from the arrows.

"Zhang Qiming, when did you become this impressive?"
Zhang Jiuri exclaimed in awe, struggling to keep up. While he could evade bandit bullets, the sheer density of the arrows now was a completely different challenge. He knew that dodging a stray bullet was one thing, but escaping unscathed from such an overwhelming storm of arrows was near impossible. After all, one might avoid a raindrop, but who could emerge dry in a monsoon?

"Shut up! I don’t need your compliments right now—run!"
Zhang Qiming carved out a small safe zone with great difficulty, only to turn back and find the others huddling behind him like helpless bystanders. Frustrated but determined, he leaped into a crack in the ship’s fractured hull, followed closely by the group. Zhang Nian, lagging far behind due to his earlier recklessness, lost the safety zone when Zhang Qiming moved. An arrow slashed a deep gash in his arm, causing blood to gush out.

"You fool! Stay close to your grandpa's footsteps, or don't blame me if you die!"
Zhang Qiming taunted. Zhang Nian flushed with anger but dared not retort.

"It's just a cut on your arm. Stop acting like it's a big deal," Zhang Jiuri muttered while bandaging him, only to earn a glare from Zhang Nian.

Strangely, as soon as they fled, the crossbows on the cliffs fell silent. The colossal ship-turned-tomb returned to its eerie stillness. The mechanisms retracted, as if waiting for the next fool to "open the coffin."

"The old clan leader’s traps are truly extraordinary. No wonder he was the leader of the Zhang clan," Zhang Qiming marveled. The ingenuity behind such mechanisms seemed almost superhuman. He couldn’t help but fantasize about designing traps like these himself. However, with the late clan leader gone and no one to pass down the knowledge, it seemed an impossible dream—unless the mysterious system guiding his strange journey had something in store for him.

Beneath the ship lay a river valley, likely carved by the flow of ancient waters. It now served as their escape route. The soil here matched the black earth they had seen earlier, exuding a strange, pungent odor, suggesting the presence of some unique element.

"Could this be the old clan leader's planned escape route?" Zhang Haike speculated, noticing a perfectly round hole at the base of the ship—clearly man-made. He lit a fire stick, illuminating the pitch-black river passage.

"Let's move forward and see where this leads," Xiao Ge commanded, his leadership now instinctively accepted by the group.

The damp and oppressive air of the tunnel made everyone uneasy. At the end of the river path, they encountered a wall of stacked crates.

"These crates are identical to the ones from the ship. It’s proof that the ship’s crew brought them here. There must be a secret behind them!" Zhang Haike exclaimed, attempting to move the crates but failing.

Xiao Ge stepped forward, using his signature two-finger technique to deftly extract a crate like pulling a brick from a wall. Inside, they found porcelain artifacts—a surprising bonus. Without hesitation, Zhang Qiming began hoarding the treasures.

"Why are you so greedy?" Zhang Haixing asked, puzzled. The Zhang clan had little use for such worldly goods, living in isolation and self-sufficiency.

"You wouldn’t understand," Zhang Qiming retorted inwardly. In this chaotic world, treasures like these were far more useful than mere words. Besides, who said Zhang clan members were above greed? He’d need these riches to win loyalty and complete his future missions.

As the crates were removed, a stone cave was revealed. Inside lay numerous heavy chests, many topped with skeletons.

"It seems these people tried to seal the cave entrance in their final moments," Zhang Haixing deduced. The skeletons outside still had remnants of skin, while those inside were clean white bones—unusually well-preserved in the humid environment.

"This is unnatural," Zhang Haike muttered, sensing ominous vibes from the bizarre scene.

"Split up and search," Xiao Ge ordered, pressing forward into the cave.

The deeper they ventured, the more skeletons they encountered, their poses eerily uniform—pushing crates or collapsed in exhaustion, as if sealing the entrance was more important than their lives.

At the far end of the cave, Zhang Jiuri spotted an unusual skeleton sitting against the stone wall. It held a staff wrapped in oiled cloth, cradled tightly in its bony arms.

"It’s the clan leader’s remains! I’ve found it!" Zhang Jiuri shouted excitedly, but as he approached, a strange feeling crept over him. Something was off. He glanced at the ground and suddenly realized—his shadow was in front of him.

Elsewhere, Zhang Qiming and Xiao Ge explored one of the many branching tunnels. Zhang Qiming pilfered valuables along the way but noticed that the deeper they went, the fewer treasures the skeletons possessed.

"These people must’ve died poor!" Zhang Qiming declared bitterly.

Xiao Ge turned to glance at him but said nothing. For once, he was truly speechless.