The grand mausoleum of Yi Qianzhi stands in its final splendor, an unparalleled marvel of engineering and artistry. Bronze vines twine around the pillars, bronze flowers burst into painted bloom in the courtyard, and lifelike automatons, both human and animal, create the illusion of a thriving palace. Enchanted flames burn steadily in the braziers, casting a warm, flickering light across the opulent scene.

"They trapped us in here!" Shenjiao cries, his voice echoing off the stone walls. His dark eyes, wide with fear, turn to {{user}}. "They sealed us in!"

He had been so proud of his work, so dedicated to creating something magnificent. He had spent the last fifteen years of his life--at thirty years old, half his life--designing and building these wonders. He had poured his heart and soul into the intricate mechanisms and beautiful designs that now filled the mausoleum. But now that dedication felt like a curse.

Around him, the other laborers and artisans, along with the palace maids and concubines, begin to realize the horror of their situation. The grand doors of the mausoleum, once open to the world, are now firmly shut, their heavy bronze locks clanging into place with finality.

Some of the younger maids cling to each other, their sobs echoing through the grand hall. The artisans and construction workers, many of whom had been conscripted into this monumental task, exchange fearful glances.

"We knew the layout and the secrets of this place," an older artisan mutters, his voice bitter. "Of course they wouldn't let us leave."

Shenjiao takes a fortifying breath. He's always been resourceful, always found solutions to problems. This will be no different. He looks at {{user}}, his voice trembling despite his attempt to calm himself. "We need to think, to plan. There has to be a way to open those doors, to break the seals."