Chapter Forty-Two: Fright at the Haunted Tomb

Unlike the four who were clearly alarmed, Xiuyuan listened carefully to the direction from which the sound had come, and his expression suddenly changed. “This is bad—it’s that place I scouted earlier!” Uncle Li shot to his feet, looking at the group of four and demanding, “Are those your people?” One of them replied, “No, but there is indeed another group in the mountains. We just didn’t expect them to be so brazen as to blow up a tomb in broad daylight.” Another man, a middle-aged fellow in his forties, added, “Tomb robbing is a skill—what I hate most is this kind of crude, unskilled thug. With an explosion like that, it’s all too easy to bring down the entire chamber and end up with nothing.”

Xiuyuan quickly snatched the infrared night-vision binoculars from the bodyguard’s hands. After a moment of observation, he said, “We can’t wait—we have to go now, or else…” Uncle Li was anxious as well. They were deep in one of the countless branches of the Qinling Mountains, the landscape a vast, dense forest, the canopy thick and unbroken, ridges and basins alternating, with rivers cutting deep into the mountains. To travel through such complex terrain on such a dark night was extremely dangerous—a single misstep could send them tumbling to their deaths. Uncle Li hesitated.

But perhaps fortune was on their side. The previously pitch-black sky suddenly cleared, moonlight breaking through as the clouds parted overhead, the moon emerging in full, and the scattered stars glimmering faintly in its light. The forest below was bathed in a brightness akin to daylight.

“Let’s go!” Uncle Li decided instantly, though he muttered under his breath, “Isn’t tonight the sixteenth on the lunar calendar? Why is the moon so round and bright?” Quickly, Uncle Li’s group moved toward the site of the explosion, while the four in the wooden cabin held a hurried conference.

One of them said, “Tonight’s just too unlucky—two ruthless crews out here. I think we’re out of our depth; we’d better just head back.” The younger man disagreed. “Third Uncle, we’ve been out here feeding mosquitoes half the night. We have to at least get something for our trouble! Otherwise, this whole trip would be a waste!” The man addressed as Third Uncle replied, “A waste? What if you lose your life? I saw the gear those two groups are carrying—their packs are bulging. Who knows, they might be packing…” He mimed holding a pistol. “These aren’t ordinary grave robbers. We’d best tread carefully.” The young man was still unwilling to give up and turned to another. “Fourth Uncle, what do you think? We can’t just slink back after coming all this way in the dead of night, can we?”

Fourth Uncle pondered for a moment. “Third Brother, let’s quietly follow. If nothing happens between the two groups, fine. But if a fight breaks out, maybe we can scavenge something in the chaos.” Third Uncle was still hesitant. “I have a bad feeling tonight, what if—” Before he could finish, another young man burst out impatiently, “Third Uncle, let’s just go! What if we lose their trail? Then we’ll get nothing at all!” With that, he dragged the first young man outside, and the two middle-aged men, worried, quickly followed.

By now, Mutou and his group had arrived at the blasted entrance of the tomb. Under the beam of a flashlight, they could see the opening sloping steeply downward, its depths lost in darkness. Xiuyuan’s face changed dramatically. “This is it! I marked this spot myself. Who could have found it as well?” Without waiting for Uncle Li’s command, a bodyguard took a coil of nylon rope from his bag, tied one end to a sturdy tree, and dropped the other into the tomb entrance. He donned a gas mask and began to slide down the rope. After a while, his flashlight blinked a few times from below—the signal for safety.

Uncle Li said, “Xiaodong, A Jian, you two stay here on guard. The rest of you, come with us.” He handed gas masks to Xiuyuan and Mutou, then slid down the rope himself, followed by two bodyguards.

The entrance was narrow, only wide enough for one person to pass at a time, but not particularly deep. Once everyone had descended, they found themselves in a spacious burial chamber. The three bodyguards now switched on their professional-grade spotlights, illuminating the chamber in brilliant detail. It was about a hundred square meters in size, littered with porcelain jars, clay pots, and a few skeletal remains. There was also a pitch-black passageway leading who knew where.

Xiuyuan frowned. “Where did those people go? Did they take that path?” He shone his flashlight toward the passage. Uncle Li nodded, signaling the bodyguards to lead the way, and the rest followed cautiously into the dark corridor.

But just as they reached the entrance, everyone exclaimed in surprise. The passage ran only about ten meters before ending in a stone wall—a dead end. Upon closer inspection, they found new passages branching off to either side of the wall. It became clear this tomb was no simple affair; there could well be hidden mechanisms.

Uncle Li, instead of worrying, seemed delighted. He whispered, “Be careful—this place is strange, but tombs like this often hide valuable treasures.” He directed the bodyguards to take the right passage. It was oddly constructed, winding and twisting without apparent logic, and after nearly half an hour of walking, there was still no end in sight. For Mutou, this was his first time inside a tomb. Though skilled and brave, a nameless anxiety crept over him. After a while, he felt as though unseen eyes were watching him, but every time he turned, nothing was there. He told himself it was just nerves.

They went on. The corridors were never very long, but every dozen meters or so, a stone wall blocked the way, with side passages leading off in different directions. Suddenly, Xiuyuan realized something. “This looks like a maze formation!” Uncle Li agreed. “Exactly. Also, have you noticed how old these walls are? The air is damp, but there are no cockroaches, no rats, no insects—not even an ant. Isn’t that strange?”

“Who’s there?” As Uncle Li was puzzling over this, one of the bodyguards suddenly barked a warning and gave chase. The others exchanged bewildered glances—no one had seen anything. Mutou, quick as ever, had only caught a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. The bodyguard pursued whatever it was, but then, chillingly, the sound of his footsteps cut off abruptly. He vanished as if plucked out of thin air, sending a wave of terror through the group. Even the two remaining bodyguards looked around nervously. Xiuyuan hastily pulled a handful of yellow talisman paper from his pocket, somehow igniting it with a flick, and began to chant, “By decree of the Grand Supreme Elderly Lord, begone, spirits and demons!” He flung the burning papers down the corridor, their glow painfully stark in the gloom.

As an interdimensional trade agent, Mutou had mastered cultivation techniques and B-level skills, and had even fought against monstrous insects and zombies. Yet nothing had ever filled him with such dread. Those were tangible foes—one could fight back. What he faced now seemed to belong to legend, a supernatural terror he had no idea how to counter. He could only hope the Taoist, Xiuyuan, had some way to deal with it.

But it seemed Xiuyuan was out of his depth as well; the yellow talisman only heightened the eerie atmosphere. Xiuyuan whispered, “Let’s go!” and hurriedly pulled Uncle Li along, the two bodyguards close behind. As Mutou looked back toward the corridor where the bodyguard had disappeared, he suddenly saw that white shadow again. His heart pounding, he instinctively took a step back and leaned against the wall.

To his astonishment, the wall was a hidden mechanism. As soon as Mutou touched it, the wall silently revolved, and he fell backward. Strangely, behind the wall was a hollow space—Mutou felt himself drop, realized there was nothing beneath him, and instantly gathered his vital energy, using his levitation technique to hover in midair. Summoning “Azure Void” to shield his head, he recalled in a flash the artifact in his possession: the Demon-Sealing Urn. Function one: It can imprison certain special lifeforms within.

As this thought came, he reached out, and a treasure urn inscribed with runes and shimmering with dark silver light appeared in his hands. With the Demon-Sealing Urn in his grasp, Mutou felt his courage soar. He called out in a low voice, “What evil creature haunts this place? Show yourself at once!” As he spoke, the urn responded to his will, its lid opening, casting a brilliant silver light that illuminated every corner of the space. Mutou realized he was in a small chamber—judging from his fall, it must be built beneath the corridor above.

At that moment, a melodious voice called out, “Spare me, Immortal! I did not know a celestial being had arrived, and have offended you unwittingly. I beg you, have mercy on my millennia of cultivation—please spare my life!”

Following the sound, Mutou saw a woman in white palace robes kneeling at the far end of the chamber, her head bowed so that he could not see her face.

Immortal? Millennia of cultivation? Mutou’s heart pounded—had he truly encountered a legendary spirit? Yet the Demon-Sealing Urn, it seemed, was indeed a rare treasure; its mere appearance had rendered the being before him motionless with fear.

“What manner of spirit are you, lurking here to harm the living?” Mutou forced himself to sound stern. He had no idea what powers this being possessed—he could only bluff, hoping she didn’t see through him.

She replied, still kneeling, “Immortal, I am no demon. Millennia ago, I leapt over the Dragon Gate, shedding my mortal form—I was meant to join the ranks of the immortals.” Her words startled Mutou. “You’re an immortal?”

“But I failed to ascend. Instead, I was imprisoned here, my body shackled, my spirit bound within a divine artifact, doomed to wander these halls. I swear, Immortal, I have never harmed a living soul.” As she spoke, she lifted her head, and Mutou examined her closely. Her shoulders were as if carved, her waist slender as silk. Unbidden, lines from “The Ode to the Goddess of the Luo River” surfaced in his mind: Her fair skin glows, untouched by rouge or powder, her hair piled high as a cloud, brows arching gracefully, lips red and lustrous, teeth white and even, bright eyes gleaming, dimples playing at her cheeks, her bearing noble and serene, her figure elegant and poised.