For a time, when Chen Mo would doze off during English class, he never imagined that this language would one day prove so crucial.
But now, by the time he realized its importance, it was far too late.
If Heaven granted him one more chance, he swore he would say to that English teacher… "Well, uh, could you please teach me the English for rice cooker?"
But really, pondering over "Good good study" at this point was a touch too little, too late.
Fortunately, the current situation wasn't entirely hopeless. At least on the surface, it seemed some form of communication had been achieved.
Perhaps the Terracotta Warriors had been stunned into compliance by Guo Guo's aggressive tirade—they seemed either to have understood or been intimidated. In any case, they actually lowered their weapons.
"How about that? Left you speechless, didn't I?" Guo Guo, now thoroughly pleased with itself, boasted with a drunken sway, "Don't get too obsessed with me—I'm merely a leg—whoa!"
Whizz! Before the words had even left its mouth, several spears flew through the air, narrowly missing and striking the wall behind, their shafts still trembling with a clear, ringing hum.
Tears welled in its eyes—literally! Guo Guo was petrified, utterly stunned, unable even to cry for help…
"You have seed!" it suddenly shrieked a few seconds later, its voice piercing through the exhibition hall like a banshee's wail. "I will give you some color to see see! Brothers! Together up!"
"Uh, what the hell is it saying?" Chen Mo and Ben Ben exchanged puzzled glances. Was this thing now addicted to speaking English?
But before they could decode the nonsense, the Terracotta Warriors growled and drew their swords once more.
Seeing Guo Guo on the verge of being hacked to scrap metal, Chen Mo had no time to worry about damaging cultural relics. He clenched his fist, summoning a charge of crackling electricity.
In an instant, a bolt of lightning crashed down, striking squarely before the advancing warriors. Dust and shards of stone burst into the air.
"Stop!" the warrior leader barked, startled, spreading his arms to halt the attack.
"Me! Friend!" Realizing his English was woefully insufficient, Chen Mo resorted to primitive gestures.
"This," he said, patting his chest, then pointing at the roasting pig on the spit, "Mine. Understand?"
"Yours?" the leader repeated uncertainly, glancing toward the pig as if beginning to grasp the idea.
Yet after a brief pause, he and his comrades solemnly shook their heads in unison. Apparently, they weren't willing to surrender the roast.
"Seriously… even Terracotta Warriors refuse to pocket lost property?" Chen Mo muttered, raking a hand through his hair in frustration.
With ethics education clearly a lost cause, he opted for a more pragmatic approach.
"Wanna smoke?" he offered a moment later, holding out three cigarettes. "See this? Not for eating, you smoke it—with your mouth, not your nose… uh?"
He fell silent, realization dawning: the true idiot was himself.
Before his stunned eyes, the warriors expertly held the cigarettes between their lips, as if born to it.
The leader reached out with flair, snapped his fingers, and muttered, "Light."
"You've got to be kidding me. Are you guys really Terracotta Warriors?" Chen Mo rolled his eyes, tempted to rip off their armor and check.
Still, he obediently offered his lighter and lit their cigarettes like a courteous junior.
Taking a long, satisfied drag, the leader suddenly snatched the lighter and nodded slightly. "That's yours," he said, then pointed to the spit.
With another deep inhale, he consumed nearly half the cigarette in a single breath. Impressive lung capacity.
The others puffed with equal ease, blowing out lazy smoke rings—some even shaped like cranes, fishermen, swimming fish, and rolling waves.
Chen Mo was nearly in tears. He bit his finger just to confirm he wasn't dreaming—
My God! These weren't warriors; they were chain-smoking veterans!
Taking advantage of the distraction, Guo Guo and the others rushed over to rescue the tear-streaked Pighead III.
The poor creature practically dove into their arms, sobbing, "Brother Chen! I was almost roasted alive!"
"There, there. Cheer up! Not every pig gets the honor of being eaten by Terracotta Warriors," Chen Mo quipped, prying the clinging pet away.
"But seriously, aren't you supposed to be a demon? How did you get caught so easily?"
"They ambushed me! Knocked me out cold with one blow. When I came to…" Pighead III growled, gnashing its teeth.
As if responding to the compliment, the warriors turned toward him, baring awkward smiles uglier than crying faces.
"Ah, I see," Chen Mo blinked, exasperated, and patted the pig's head. "Anyway, don't hurt them… By the way, where's Sister Rong?"
"Rong-jie?" Pighead III blinked, confused, then muttered after a pause, "She went to the restroom earlier… now that you mention it, that was… quite a while ago."
Before he finished, he was already airborne—flung back into the warriors' embrace.
Ignoring the pig's protests, Chen Mo jumped into the cart and sped away with a screech of tires.
"Wait! The restroom's the other way!" Pighead III staggered up, dazed. "Hey! Turn left up ahead—uh…"
His words froze in his throat as the warriors gathered again, igniting lighters and staring at him with an eerie gleam.
They bared rows of gleaming white teeth in perfect synchrony.
Moments later, a blood-curdling scream echoed through the exhibit hall:
"Help! Brother Chen! You traitor! May your wife remain a virgin forever!"
Would that curse work? Perhaps—if his grudge survived the roasting.
But the warriors were already unsheathing their swords, apparently eager to begin cooking.
Pighead III shivered and forced a grin. "Actually, I don't taste good… really. But I do know a great spot—Lucky Inn Restaurant…"
Meanwhile, Chen Mo was racing toward the restroom, wind howling in his ears, exhibition relics springing to life around him.
He slapped his forehead, exasperated: Unbelievable!
Everywhere he looked, strange relics had begun to wander beyond their zones, mingling in chaotic disarray.
When mummies start climbing into rickshaws, the smart move isn't to ask, "Where to, sir?"—it's to run.
"How the hell is this so much like that movie?" Chen Mo groaned.
The only difference? The film's heroine didn't visit the restroom—nor was she attacked…
If that were the case, perhaps Ye Rong would still be safe. But could that really be?
"Boss, Sister Rong definitely isn't in the restroom!" Guo Guo muttered, seeing the structure up ahead.
"I know!" Chen Mo nodded, steering the cart through the hallway. "But we might find a clue there. Also… um, have any of you ever visited a women's restroom?"
Heaven knows what his real motivation was, but the cart roared forward and crashed straight through the restroom wall.
Ignoring the debris, Chen Mo kicked open every stall door as he went:
"Rong-jie, are you there? Rong-jie? Rong-jie, you… uh!"
When he opened the third door, he froze.
Inside the ruined cubicle, Ye Rong stood frozen, clutching her skirt, staring wide-eyed at the intruder.
Their eyes locked in stunned silence, the air so quiet it could have been outer space.
Guo Guo and Ben Ben turned toward the wall and muttered in unison, "We see nothing. We are air…"
Brilliant. Perhaps the appliances had seen nothing—but Chen Mo had seen everything.
He saw Ye Rong's long legs, her fair skin… and more.
He shuddered involuntarily and, affecting complete nonchalance, called out,
"Rong-jie, are you here?"
"Seriously?" Guo Guo stared in awe as Chen Mo coolly examined the stalls as if inspecting invisible ghosts.
Only when Ye Rong began trembling in fury did he finally turn and leave—without saying a word.
Seconds later, a piercing scream shattered the silence, nearly frying the electronics.
"Pervert! Pervert! You—"
"Oh? Rong-jie! So here you are!" Chen Mo turned back, eyes wide with surprise, face glowing with innocent delight.
But in that very instant, a blue figure leapt through the hole in the wall—
A blade flashed with a whistling arc, cutting through the air.
"Fiend! How dare you defile a virtuous woman! Do you not recognize Lord Guan Yu when you see him?"