Chapter 57: Before the Final Battle

  Learning from their previous experience outside Anping Town, everyone instinctively stood far away from the coffin this time.

  Even Chen Weiliang, who was usually confident, talkative, and meddlesome, stood respectfully beside Tang Mingli, nervously eyeing the coffin ahead and waiting for orders.

  The guards, one and all, were on edge, gripping their weapons tightly.

  San Bao gnced over the group and couldn’t help but let out a light ugh, "What’s everyone so afraid of? It’s just a coffin, it won’t bite."

  She stepped forward, gathered her spiritual energy, and gently spped the coffin.

  With a loud *bang*, the oak lid of the coffin suddenly shot up, soaring several feet into the air before crashing heavily onto a stone by the side of the mountain road, sending up a cloud of dust.

  The dull echo spread across the mountains, startling a group of crows in the distance.

  All eyes were fixed on the open coffin.

  What had once been an empty coffin now contained Zhu Ting, who was lying quietly inside. She was still dressed in pin white robes, her face as pale as snow, and her expression serene, as if she had merely fallen asleep. Despite the passing of several days, there were no signs of decomposition.

  Tang Mingli narrowed his eyes, as if about to speak, but in the end said nothing, only casting a gnce at San Bao.

  San Bao met his gaze and softly said, "The final battle is about to begin, isn't it? And the final battle is one that every member must take part in... The most important one, of course, cannot be absent."

  She looked at Zhu Ting in the coffin and gave a half-smile. "You agree, don't you?"

  The entire group fell into a suffocating silence.

  Chen Weiliang’s face went ashen, a chill running down his spine. His voice trembled as he said, "Miss San Bao… you’re... you’re joking, right?"

  "No," San Bao responded softly, a smile pying on her lips, her voice calm enough to send a shiver down anyone's spine.

  "This tree looks pretty sturdy," San Bao said, gncing at the rge tree blocking the road. "Let’s take down the wooden frame from it. We can use it to make a new cart for the coffin."

  She paused, then added, "Find a few people, quickly get it done. We still need to keep moving."

  With that, she brushed her disheveled hair over her shoulder and turned back to the carriage.

  "Do as she says," Tang Mingli said in a low voice.

  Chen Weiliang swallowed hard, his expression one of disbelief. He quickly instructed the guards to get to work without asking further questions.

  Tang Mingli, satisfied with his efficiency, whispered something in his ear before heading back to the carriage.

  The sun was setting as the new cart was finally finished. Zhu Ting’s coffin was carefully pced on it, now securely covered.

  "Let’s go," came a brief command from inside the carriage. The group quickly organized and set off again, continuing along the rugged mountain path.

  As evening approached, the sky grew darker. By dusk, the mountain road suddenly opened up, revealing a brightly lit town ahead. The streets were bustling with people, and the calls of street vendors echoed in the air, creating a lively market scene.

  "Yingqiu Town?" Chen Weiliang frowned as he checked the map and the sign at the town entrance. He muttered, "Strange... This town isn’t even marked on the map."

  Suddenly, a voice echoed in his mind, "Follow the pn!" He turned to look at the carriage, realizing it was the head of the Tang family using spiritual power to communicate with him.

  Without saying another word, Chen Weiliang spurred his horse forward and entered the town.

  The group followed behind, slowly making their way into the town.

  After settling into the inn, Tang Mingli called Chen Weiliang into his room.

  After some commotion, the coffin was temporarily pced in the center of the courtyard, while the guards settled into rge dormitory-style rooms around the yard.

  Outside the inn, the town’s market was still bright and noisy, the shouts of vendors echoing through the walls, easily heard even from within.

  Suddenly, it was as if someone had pressed the pause button. The bustling market fell eerily silent, the lively noise vanishing in an instant.

  Even the guards, who had been speaking quietly, instinctively closed their mouths. Each of them stood still, straining their ears to catch any faint sound.

  One anxious guard approached the door of the inn and nervously peered out through a crack.

  *Creak...* A faint sound echoed, as though a worn wooden door was being pushed open.

  Everyone turned their heads toward the center of the courtyard.

  On the cart that had carried Zhu Ting’s coffin, the lid, which should have been securely fastened, slowly creaked open before their eyes.

  A pair of pale, emaciated hands slowly reached out from the coffin, gripping the edge.

  In full view of everyone, Zhu Ting slowly sat up from the coffin...