Chapter Six: Digging a Pit and Burying Oneself

Nighttime, beside the fire.

After a whole day of toil, the two finally had a chance to lie down and rest. In the quiet of the night, both fell silent, gazing absentmindedly at the star-studded sky.

Suddenly, Xiao Yan spoke, “Fan, when you wrote those words on the statue, was it because you were afraid you’d forget that he was a member of the Celestial Change?”

Qin Xiaofan smiled and shook his head. The look he gave Xiao Yan was like that of a leader kindly caring for a subordinate.

“Huohuo, you have to look further ahead,” he said. “Once we have more people, will we still need to do all these dirty, exhausting jobs ourselves? As long as I draw a little blood each day and distribute it below, we’ll just wait at base camp for news.”

Xiao Yan frowned. “So, you plan on establishing a hierarchy in the future?”

Qin Xiaofan sat up, surprised by Xiao Yan’s keen perception. He looked at Xiao Yan and spoke earnestly:

“I know what you’re worried about. Don’t worry, I won’t be as extreme as the Celestial Change organization. I just think—chaos gets us nowhere. Even if we don’t set up ranks, we at least need a strong leader. Huohuo, do you understand what I mean?”

He gave Xiao Yan a warm smile. “But right now, it’s meaningless to talk about these things. After all, it’s just the two of us.”

Xiao Yan remained silent, head lowered in thought.

After a long pause, just as Qin Xiaofan lay down again, he heard Xiao Yan respond softly, “I trust you. You are the savior chosen by the heavens. I believe you will lead humanity out of this crisis.”

Qin Xiaofan smiled but said nothing more. Whether Xiao Yan meant it or not, he didn’t really care. Since he held the key to reviving humanity, the direction of civilization’s development was in his hands—he had the right to decide.

The night was especially dark, but to Qin Xiaofan’s eyes, the darkness was unusual. Beneath the stars, countless points of white light gathered and surged, illuminating the entire sky. The scene was visually overwhelming, yet Xiao Yan beside him felt nothing at all. It was as if the stars twinkled for Qin Xiaofan alone.

Qin Xiaofan felt something was amiss. From the moment the white lights began pouring into him, their speed was several times faster than usual! It felt like the final sprint at the end of a marathon. Yet he couldn’t predict what would happen next. He only had a vague sense that his body was about to undergo an irreversible change. Whether it would be good or bad, he had no idea, and the uncertainty made him uneasy. But he was powerless to stop it. The white lights rushed into him uncontrollably, and his body devoured them like a bottomless pit.

He was awake all night. By dawn, the influx of white light hadn’t slowed—instead, it became more intense.

He stood up, feeling like a giant lightbulb.

His whole body glowed with white light, so bright that even in broad daylight, he stood out. Yet Xiao Yan still noticed nothing. To him, Qin Xiaofan simply looked more energetic—perhaps even a little handsomer. Nothing else seemed amiss.

Qin Xiaofan was on the verge of tears. Who knew if his body might suddenly explode? The system remained silent, leaving him completely in the dark. The abnormality persisted throughout the morning. Distracted and uneasy, Qin Xiaofan had no appetite for anything, not even the protests of his stomach.

“Are you okay...?” Xiao Yan asked, sensing Qin Xiaofan’s oddness, but Qin Xiaofan brushed it off with a “just not feeling well.”

That afternoon, as the sun beat down, Qin Xiaofan, drenched in sweat, looked up at the blazing sky. Suddenly, he felt dizzy and his eyelids grew heavy, as if he might slip into a deep sleep at any moment. The influx of white light slowed, signaling the end was near.

At that moment, the system finally spoke:

“Warning! Host’s body is experiencing abnormality.”

“In one hour, the host will enter a state of suspended animation, lasting seven days. Please prepare in advance.”

Qin Xiaofan snapped awake. One hour later... a seven-day sleep? What kind of nonsense was this?

The system continued: “During the seven days of sleep, the host’s body will enter a state of constant suspended animation. No need for caloric intake or breathing, but the host will not be immune to harm. Please prepare for sleep in advance!”

The words exploded in his mind like a bomb. Despite the heat, cold sweat broke out all over him. No matter how he questioned, the system refused to answer further.

“Worthless system!” he cursed aloud.

Xiao Yan, not far away, looked over in confusion, but Qin Xiaofan quickly regained his composure. He noticed a countdown had appeared in his mind: 57 minutes left.

If he couldn’t change it, he’d have to accept it. As absurd as it seemed, there was no other choice.

He stood thinking for thirty seconds, then dashed at full speed towards the lake they’d found earlier. Xiao Yan, bewildered, hurried after him—only to witness a scene beyond belief.

Qin Xiaofan dove repeatedly into the lake, each time dragging a massive eel to the shore. He killed seven in total before stopping.

Xiao Yan was dumbfounded, staring at the eels sprawled all over the ground, wondering what grudge they had earned from Qin Xiaofan to deserve such a fate.

Little did he know, these seven eels would be his rations for the next seven days.

Seeing Xiao Yan’s confusion, Qin Xiaofan said seriously, “This is your food for the next seven days. Ration it carefully.”

Xiao Yan was stunned, full of questions he couldn’t express. But Qin Xiaofan had no time to explain, nor could he.

The countdown in his mind showed only 28 minutes left. The moment time was up, he would lose consciousness in an instant.

Time was running out.

Standing by the shore, Qin Xiaofan thought for ten seconds, then dove back into the lake. This time, he surfaced quickly, not with another eel, but with a brand new shovel.

Of course, the shovel hadn’t been found underwater, but exchanged for 20 points in the tool section of the points shop while he was submerged.

Qin Xiaofan handed the shovel to Xiao Yan, solemnly instructing, “Huohuo, do me a favor—back at the camp, dig a hole at least a meter deep.”

Xiao Yan took the shovel, bewildered, but nodded in the face of Qin Xiaofan’s serious expression.

Qin Xiaofan had no time left for explanations. Moving as fast as he could, he ran to the woods near their camp.

For the next seven days of sleep, he would not be immune to harm. He had to find the safest possible place to hide himself.

But where would that be? He’d been pondering since the countdown appeared.

In the end, he decided to bury himself.

Yes—dig a hole and bury himself!

Since he wouldn’t need food or air during those seven days, being buried underground was the safest choice.

Qin Xiaofan chopped down a towering tree, sawed off a section, and hollowed out the middle until he could lie inside. It looked like a small, oval boat. He added a plank on top—turning it into a coffin.

Meanwhile, Xiao Yan, digging the pit at camp, was completely bewildered, starting to wonder if Qin Xiaofan had lost his mind.

What on earth was he up to?

But Qin Xiaofan had no time left to explain. The countdown showed only five minutes remaining.