Chapter 15
Chapter 15: The Rat Family’s Ancient Tomb Style
People said “timid as a rat,” and it turned out to be painfully accurate. Once the rat spirit realized Gu Shi Yi was a cultivator—someone it absolutely couldn’t afford to offend—it stopped acting clever. It guarded the fire like an obedient little servant all night, waiting until dawn spilled through the trees and the birds started chirping like they were filing noise complaints.
Only then did Gu Shi Yi wake up.
She went to the stream, washed her face, rinsed her mouth, and ate breakfast with last night’s dried bun. When she turned to leave, the rat spirit looked at the listless old horse and the half-collapsed carriage and went blank.
“Officer… you ride in that?”
Gu Shi Yi climbed onto the driver’s bench and nodded. “Yes. Why?”
The rat spirit circled the wreck once, looking more offended with every step. “How can this thing even travel?”
Gu Shi Yi spread her hands. “Cultivators don’t value money. I only had a little silver. So I bought a little carriage.”
The rat spirit’s eyes rolled so hard they nearly squeaked out of its skull. “Officer, there was a group of bandits I drained before. They robbed a rich family passing through, killed everyone, then used the family’s carriage to haul their loot. After they split it, they killed the horses too and tossed the carriage into the mountains. I saw it—good wood. It’s been sitting there for years and not even the bugs dare touch it. It’s much better than this.”
Gu Shi Yi’s eyes lit up. “Where?”
The rat spirit pointed over a ridge. “Past that mountain.”
Gu Shi Yi didn’t hesitate. “Then this carriage stays here.”
She jumped down, unharnessed the horse, and took the reins in hand. “We’ll walk.”
Honestly, the broken thing had been rattling so hard it felt like it was trying to shake itself to pieces anyway.
The rat spirit glanced at the bony old horse, then stroked its chin like a self-appointed guide. “Officer, if you trust me, follow me. I can take you on a shortcut.”
Gu Shi Yi looked it up and down. “What shortcut?”
This mountain road was already the shortcut. She’d walked it with the old daoist priest two years ago. If a rat spirit had something even shorter, she wanted to hear it.
The rat spirit grinned. “Our rat clan’s best skill is digging. Under this mountain…” It stabbed a finger at the ground. “I’ve hollowed the whole thing out. It’s a network—tunnels everywhere. I’m not bragging. Within a hundred li, there’s a path to anywhere.”
Gu Shi Yi narrowed her eyes. “You want us to go into your nest. Are you trying to lure us in and kill us?”
The rat spirit flailed its hands. “Officer, you joke! You’re a true cultivator—how would I dare? Before, I didn’t know your identity. Now that I do, how could I still have evil thoughts?”
Gu Shi Yi stared at it for a long moment. The rat spirit’s back stiffened, as if it could feel cold air crawling into its bones.
Finally, Gu Shi Yi nodded. “Fine. Lead.”
The rat spirit didn’t lie. It had lived here eight hundred years. This entire mountain range might as well have been its personal burrow.
It led Gu Shi Yi to an unremarkable cave entrance hidden behind tall weeds. It pushed the greenery aside and crawled in first. Gu Shi Yi followed slowly, holding the broken clay jar in one hand and leading the old horse with the other. Her bundle was strapped across the horse’s back.
The entrance was narrow, but just tall enough for the horse to duck through. Moss coated the rock—thick and slick, the kind you only got where human feet never bothered to go.
After only about three zhang, the cave seemed to end.
Gu Shi Yi frowned. “You said you dug this. It doesn’t look like it.”
The rat spirit turned back, smiling. “The outer cave formed naturally. The inside is what I dug. If ordinary people wander in without knowing the truth, they reach this spot and think it’s the end. They turn back.”
It walked to the wall where old tree roots snaked down from the ceiling, clinging to stone. The rat spirit let out a rapid string of squeaks.
The roots shuddered.
Then they moved—slithering aside like living snakes. Dirt showered down, and a wide opening appeared where solid rock had been.
Gu Shi Yi lifted a brow. “You’ve got a few tricks.”
The rat spirit chuckled. “You flatter me, Officer.”
Gu Shi Yi led the horse through—and instantly regretted several major decisions she’d made since waking up.
A wave of stench hit her so hard it felt physical. She clapped a hand over her mouth and nose.
It stank. Truly, violently stank.
The rat spirit walked ahead like nothing was wrong. Of course. Rats ate in their nests and relieved themselves there. After eight hundred years, this smell was basically “home.”
Gu Shi Yi didn’t want to turn back now, so she quietly used her power to seal her sense of smell and forced herself onward.
Once she could breathe without suffering, she looked around and clicked her tongue. “You’ve made this pretty neat.”
The tunnel was wide—about one and a half people tall—and just barely broad enough for a carriage to squeeze through. The walls were polished smooth, as if someone had carefully ground down every sharp edge. Every so often, night-luminous pearls were set into the stone, casting a dim glow through the passage—murky, but enough to see the path.
The rat spirit smiled proudly. “We rats can see in darkness anyway. But years ago, when I dug in these mountains, I accidentally opened an ancient tomb of the human race. I saw the roads inside were built like this—grand and impressive. So I copied it. Being praised by Officer is my honor.”
Gu Shi Yi’s mouth twitched. She lowered her head and exchanged a look with Li Yan Er, who had quietly poked her head out from Gu Shi Yi’s collar.
So this rat spirit had decorated its home in ancient tomb style.
Only a rat could look at a tomb and think, This is the vibe.
Its nest sat in the mountain’s belly, shaped like a massive oval dome. The ceiling arched overhead. The floor was flat and paved with embossed blue bricks—clearly stolen from the tomb. Around the base of the dome, openings led into countless tunnels branching in all directions. Those tunnels connected into a vast maze. Without the rat spirit guiding you, even a cultivator would struggle to find an exit without brute-forcing through the rock.
Gu Shi Yi couldn’t help looking around in amazement. The rat spirit noticed and grew even smugger. It gestured toward the center with theatrical politeness.
“Officer’s visit to my humble home brings it great honor. Officer, please come in and sit.”
Gu Shi Yi glanced over—and immediately felt her courage take a hit.
The open space was about the size of two tennis courts. Stone horses, stone oxen, and stone figurines were arranged in a circle. In the very center sat a huge stone coffin. Scattered around it were stone “furniture”—tables, chairs, even a bed. Carvings covered the surrounding stonework: scenes of ascension, statues holding sword-stone, and rows of stone faces with blank eyes that somehow still felt like they were watching.
Gu Shi Yi gave a helpless laugh. “Your taste is… unique.”
If someone timid tried to sleep here, they’d probably faint before they even lay down.
The rat spirit flushed as if she’d praised it, eyes shining. “Only Officer has taste! I’ve had customers come before—none of them appreciated it. Only Officer can see how brilliant this arrangement is!”
Gu Shi Yi smiled vaguely, the way a person smiled when a child proudly showed them a dead frog.
She tied the horse’s reins to the horn of a stone ram, then walked closer with the clay jar in her arms and studied the coffin.
“The carvings,” she murmured. “Immortal crane guiding the way… ascension scenes. This coffin’s original master was a cultivator?”
The rat spirit’s admiration practically dripped off it. “Officer truly is amazing. This coffin belonged to an ancient cultivator. Four hundred years ago, I was still just a little mountain rat spirit. I dug into this tomb by accident. Out of curiosity, I crawled into the coffin…”
It pointed at a hole in the coffin’s side—clearly gnawed open by rat teeth.
“When I went in, the ancient cultivator had already withered away. His body was dust. But he left behind a fire-red pill. I got greedy and ate it. That’s why I could take human form after only eight hundred years.”
For a spirit creature, taking human form was notoriously difficult. Many cultivated for a thousand years without the right chance. By comparison, this rat spirit was absurdly lucky.
Gu Shi Yi nodded once. “That was your fortune.”
Then she looked around again—stone figurines, coffin, tomb bricks underfoot—and decided she’d had enough of “home décor by nightmare.”
“It’s late,” she said. “I’ve seen your place. Take us out.”
The rat spirit nodded quickly. “Yes, yes. Officer, please follow me.”
It led her into one of the many tunnels. They turned left, right, and left again, weaving through passages until Gu Shi Yi lost all sense of direction. After what felt like half a day, they crawled out through an exit near a riverside grove.
The moment Gu Shi Yi stepped into fresh air, she released the seal on her nose.
A second later, she nearly choked.
“Cough—cough—cough!”
She clutched her chest, coughing hard enough to see stars. When she finally looked up, she saw the rat spirit dragging aside a high pile of fallen leaves.
“Officer,” it said eagerly, pointing. “How about this carriage?”
Under the leaves sat a carriage.
Gu Shi Yi walked over and looked it up and down. Her eyes widened. “This is sandalwood.”
In the mortal world, that wasn’t just expensive—it was a declaration of status. She leaned closer and caught a faint fragrance still lingering in the wood.
“This scent,” she murmured, more to herself than to the rat spirit, “comes from the oil of a large sea fish. It’s used to coat wood—prevents fire, damp, and insects, and leaves a light fragrance behind. Forget the value of the carriage. That oil alone sells for a hundred taels per jin. A carriage this size would need three to five jin of it.”
The rat spirit puffed up. “Officer, I told you it was good. If I had a use for carriages in the mountains, I’d have found fine horses and made it truly grand…”
Gu Shi Yi laughed dryly inside.
If she drove this thing out in the open, she might as well hang a sign on it that said, Please notice me. Also, please bring trouble.
A carriage like this had to belong to a powerful family. And powerful families tended to ask questions. Loud ones.
But then the rat spirit opened the rear door.
The interior was shockingly intact: thick brocade cushions, a compact teapot and a little stove made with magnet stone, drawers under the bench holding two quilts that looked light as clouds. The bench itself could pull out into a simple bed.
Gu Shi Yi ran her fingers over the quilts and immediately understood—snow beast fur inside. Light, warm, easy to clean, easy to carry. Shut the door, tuck in, and you could sleep like a noble even on wild roads.
Her eyes gleamed.
All right. She would be a target. But she would be a comfortable target.
“I’ll just replace the fancy drapes,” she decided, smiling to herself. “Cover it with old cloth. It’s for my own use—comfort matters more than appearances.”
She harnessed the old horse, tested the wheels, and confirmed they still turned smoothly. Then she turned back to the rat spirit, ready to part ways.
Before she did, she paused. “If you want to understand the great Dao, seducing the human race, mating, and stealing the human race’s essence is the lowest path. It won’t last.”
The rat spirit’s eyes widened. It immediately understood she was pointing out a better road, and its face lit up with hope. It bowed quickly. “Please teach me, Officer!”
Gu Shi Yi studied it. “You learned manners among the human race, didn’t you?”
The rat spirit nodded eagerly. “I found bamboo slips in the ancient tomb. After I could take human form, I brought them out and asked the village teacher to teach me characters. And… the village had operas. I watched a lot…”
So that explained everything: waving a ledger around like it was scripture, and walking like an actor swaying across a stage.
Gu Shi Yi nodded. “Not many mountain spirits and wild monsters can read. You’re an exception.”
She thought for a moment, then said, “Since you admire the human race’s culture, I can point you to a place.”
The rat spirit bowed again, almost trembling with excitement. “Thank you for your guidance, Officer!”
Gu Shi Yi held up a hand. “Don’t thank me too quickly. I’m only pointing out a road. Whether you can make it work is still unknown.”