So, we laid two waterproof sheets on the ground for blankets, and used the other three as makeshift quilts, setting up camp right there.

After we finished, Nobita showed some apprehension and asked me, "There are so many tree sacs here; perhaps some aren't dead yet. Plus, if that crab monster decides to return, it won't be very safe."

I patted his shoulder and replied, "Fatty, let me tell you the truth: nowhere is truly safe right now. But we can't just stay awake all night, can we? So, where do you suggest we make our bed?"

Nobita scratched his head, thought for a moment, and said, "Alright, you're right. It's not safe anywhere around here. I'm still not tired, you guys rest first, I'll keep watch."

I chuckled, "Oh, when did our Master Nobita become so diligent?"

Nobita pushed my hand away and said, "Hmph, you think I want to? I'm genuinely not sleepy, I just have this strange, uneasy feeling in my stomach."

Saying that, he lifted his shirt to show me. The small puncture wounds from the stabs on his abdomen were slightly swollen, but his stomach looked its usual size; hopefully, nothing was left inside.

I tried to comfort him, saying, "You've been eating well following Grandpa and the others; you've just gained a little weight recently. Don't worry, we'll boil some Banlangen when we get back and you'll be fine."

Nobita ignored me and kept rubbing his stomach.

Seeing that Tiger had already settled Grandpa down and was preparing to sleep, I said to Nobita, "You really aren't sleeping? Then I'm going to sleep..."

At that moment, Nobita leaned close to my ear and whispered, "I think the Old Man is a bit too compliant; that's not his style. Once we're asleep, he’ll surely be up to something again. I want to watch him for you."

I hadn't expected Nobita to be so thoughtful; I looked at him with newfound respect. I clapped his shoulder and said, "Fine. I'll sleep for two hours, then I'll take over your watch."

Nobita nodded, but a difficult-to-express look lingered on his face; I couldn't tell what was truly on his mind.

I couldn't be bothered to ask. Conserving energy now to plan our escape was the priority. After all, even if we made it back to the surface, it would still be a vast, desolate wilderness.

Without sufficient strength, how would we ever walk out?

Before lying down, I glanced at Grandpa and then at *, who had already closed their eyes and were resting. Grandpa's face looked terribly haggard, his brow tightly furrowed.

I sighed and lay down too.

I lay there for more than ten minutes, but I just couldn't fall asleep. Whenever I was restless, I would turn my head to check on Grandpa.

The calmer I became, the more I felt that this whole affair was too simple—suspiciously so. We had found the source of the disaster almost effortlessly and had stopped Grandpa with surprising ease, without much struggle.

Recalling the immense hardship we endured in Black Bamboo Gully, I couldn't shake the feeling that something here was profoundly abnormal.

I stared up at the sky, where, at the edge of the darkness, the roof of that spire-shaped structure was visible, the one bearing the frescoes depicting the disaster.

Just then, Nobita appeared from somewhere with an armful of dry kindling and started a small bonfire.

The flames were small, crackling with a crisp sound, casting Nobita's tall silhouette long across the ground, shifting and stretching with the flickering of the fire.

Lying on the cold floor, using my torn backpack as a pillow, I watched Nobita’s back from the side.

Between Nobita and me was the wooden ground—rough, like the cross-section of lumber. But because of the passage of time, the raised grain from the broken wood had been worn smooth and dark.

Some withered, thin vines and detritus shed from the shattered wood lay scattered on the slightly uneven surface, whispering tales of passing time.

Everything felt so real—the faint warmth drifting from the distant fire, Nobita's solid silhouette, the heavy breathing of the two people beside me, and the choking smell of burning wood permeating the air—all exuded an undeniable sense of reality.

Yet, suddenly, I felt that too much of what was happening here seemed fabricated.

My thoughts began to rewind, back to when Nobita and I first discovered this underground research facility, when we realized that all electronics, including our mobile phones, consumed no power.

That was the first unreal thing we noticed, because, to this day, humanity has not invented any technology capable of charging devices remotely.

Even if the air were filled with high-voltage charged particles perfectly suited for electronics, the air that humans breathe would be electrified, instantly killing anyone. But we were fine, breathing it in—it simply didn't compute.

The second unbelievable event was when we entered the underground cavity the second time: the Tree Heat Algae resurrecting the dead.

As mentioned before, there had been instances of bringing the dead back to life, like that time in the Amazon River. But even then, it only kept the corpses' tissues active; the most a corpse could manage was twitching. Such a sudden, aggressive attack by a risen corpse was virtually impossible.

Yet, at that moment, even someone whose bones had been smashed could stand up and attack us. This would only be possible if the Tree Heat Algae could rebuild skeletal structure.

The third impossible thing was everything happening within this giant tree. Such a massive tree shouldn't exist in the world, and the fact that its seed could germinate on a burning meteor violated all common sense.

The glowing Qiming Pearl, the girl emerging from the white marble statue, the great tree gaining sentience, the Kunlun Fetus nurtured by heaven and earth, the East Sea Crab God with a woman's face that had lived for millennia, the glowing tree sacs.

All of it defied logic.

If most of what happened in Black Bamboo Gully could be explained by science, then most of what was happening inside this "Fire-Born Wood" could not.

I stared at the dark dome above and recalled the frescoes I had seen earlier, suddenly spotting one area that made sense.

That area was that the frescoes on the ceiling were colored, whereas the murals we saw in the tree hollow were simple lines etched into the wood.

Did the Qin and Han dynasties have colored frescoes?

The answer was no. That meant this mural was painted by someone after the Qin and Han eras, perhaps as late as the Tang Dynasty.

Furthermore, the tree hollow, unlike an ancient tomb, had air circulation. Any colored mural would have oxidized, and after a thousand years, the colors would certainly be gone.

Realizing this, I sat up from the floor and walked over to sit beside Nobita.

Nobita was listlessly tossing withered vines into the flames. Seeing me approach, he asked in surprise, "What, can't sleep?"

I nodded and said, "Nobita, don't you feel that many things are fishy?"

Nobita slapped his thigh, "You noticed it too? I was just about to talk to you about this."

He lifted his shirt again and showed me, "Look at this wound. My stomach was about to explode; I felt like half my body was already in the underworld. Even if I was saved, it would have been a grievous injury. Those spikes punctured my stomach and then my abdomen. An injury like that should have been fatal."

"Because those spikes were only two or three centimeters long. To pierce the abdomen, the stomach must have been ripped open. Could anyone survive that? But look now, my stomach is fine, as if nothing happened. Even if that girl's medical skills are good, they can't be that good; it violates science."

I patted him and said, "Then you shouldn't be surprised. When she treated ’s injury, she healed it instantly, and that wound was far worse than yours."

Hearing this, Nobita turned to look at *, lowered his voice, and said, "Speaking of *, I actually wanted to mention him to you. This * isn't normal. Usually, when we go tomb raiding, he’s the first one who doesn't want to sleep and insists on standing guard. Now, he just fell asleep without a word; that’s so unlike him."

I clicked my tongue and laughed, "You're being too picky. The man is injured and tired; sleeping immediately is perfectly normal."

"Fine, you don't believe anything I say, do you? Then believe this: if I went over and shot him right now, he wouldn't die. He's the same kind of thing as that Yun Shouzi; perhaps he's not even human," Nobita said, sounding annoyed.

I thought back. Nobita and I had actually entertained the same thought before. Could it be that...