Uncle Diao didn’t say much, his thoughts seemingly mirroring those of Liu Dashao. Not just Uncle Diao—anyone encountering such a situation would feel equally confused. At that moment, no one had the slightest idea where to begin or even how to think straight.
Just as Liu Dashao was racking his brain in frustration, Jackson suddenly approached him and gestured for him to look at a particular mural. Puzzled, Liu Dashao followed Jackson’s indication. At first glance, it seemed unremarkable, but on the second look, he was completely stunned.
The mural Jackson had shown him depicted a palace—the very same palace where the four tour workers’ bodies had been discovered. Inside sat a woman on the throne, wearing a tiger-shaped mask and a yellow Taoist robe, holding a feather fan in her hand.
Seeing this mural, Liu Dashao was utterly stunned. This woman… she seemed oddly familiar. After a long pause, he suddenly recalled—his dream! Yes, last night, this woman had appeared in his dream.
In an instant, her image became deeply imprinted in Liu Dashao’s mind. Her figure was so graceful, her voice so soft and melodious.
In his dream, she had been waiting for him. Liu Dashao didn’t know who she was, but she clearly knew his name. Yet judging from the mural, she seemed to be none other than the Golden Queen.
Why had he dreamed of her? Everything was happening too fast. Liu Dashao didn’t know how to answer his own questions, so he decided to keep examining the following murals, hoping to find answers further along.
Liu Dashao skipped past the mural Jackson had shown him and moved to the next one. This one wasn’t particularly special—it simply depicted commoners paying homage to the queen. Finding it uninteresting, he quickly moved on to the next mural.
This mural appeared nearly identical to the previous one. Just as Liu Dashao was about to shift his gaze to the next scene, he noticed a subtle difference—this one had two additional figures: two men dressed in black. The word “assassins” flashed through Liu Dashao’s mind.
Assassins? Were they attempting to assassinate the Golden Queen? Judging from the scene, it certainly looked that way. How would the queen deal with them—execution by slicing or some other method? The answer would be in the next mural.
Liu Dashao shifted his gaze to the next scene—and was immediately overwhelmed with panic. His body stiffened, his hairs stood on end, and he could feel cold sweat pouring from his forehead. His body trembled slightly. The mural showed the Golden Queen wielding a very thin rod, drawing something on a table. Below the throne, the two black-clothed men were grotesquely twisted, as if viewed through a funhouse mirror. In the next mural, they had completely vanished, reduced to nothing more than two black dots.
At this point, Liu Dashao was terrified. He was certain—he had never felt such fear in his entire life, not even when he first saw his name appear in the Taiping Jing. What had she written on the table that caused two living people to vanish? Was it their names? Had Master Ni disappeared the same way? And if so, why hadn’t anything happened to him when his name appeared in the Taiping Jing?
A curse! This was a curse from a thousand years ago. His fate, his entire life, might have already been sealed within the Taiping Jing.
At this thought, Liu Dashao’s entire body trembled violently. Seeing his intense reaction, Wang Feifei quickly asked what was wrong. But Liu Dashao said nothing—this was something no one else could possibly understand, not even himself. Was all of this real? Yet everything felt so real. Before uncovering the final secret, Liu Dashao chose to keep silent.
Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead and calming himself, Liu Dashao told Wang Feifei, “Nothing. Maybe I just hit my head pretty hard last night. I’m just feeling a bit unwell now.”
He thought to himself, even if it was a thousand-year-old curse, at least he was still fine for now. He must remain unharmed until he found the final truth. If he was to disappear, he wanted to do so knowing exactly why.
Wang Feifei responded, “Then maybe you should take a short rest.”
Fan Debiao chimed in, “Yeah, yeah! Your body is the capital of revolution—you can’t lose that capital no matter what.” Again with that line—it annoyed Liu Dashao.
Waving his hand dismissively, Liu Dashao said, “I’m fine. We all need to hurry and find the secret Uncle Diao discovered twelve years ago.”
Spitting on the ground, Fan Debiao muttered, “This place is so small, completely sealed off. Everything’s right in front of us. What could we possibly find?”
“No, this isn’t the end,” Wang Feifei suddenly said.
Uncle Diao looked perplexed, asking, “Why do you say that, Miss Wang?”
Wang Feifei paused, then pulled out a yellowed photograph and waved it in front of everyone. Upon seeing the photo, everyone except Uncle Diao immediately understood her meaning. It was an old photo showing a black stone coffin—the very same one Wang Feifei had shown everyone before their journey began. That was the object the tour group had been searching for.
Uncle Diao still looked confused. Liu Dashao gathered his thoughts and explained everything from the beginning to Uncle Diao.
After listening carefully, Uncle Diao nodded slowly, his face now showing anxiety. Twelve years ago, it was he himself who had discovered the coffin and remains. Perhaps this very photo had been taken by his own hand. Now, faced with something once so familiar, he had no memory of it at all. Liu Dashao had never experienced such a feeling, but he understood how complex and unsettling it must be. If it had been him instead of Uncle Diao, he probably would have completely broken down.
“This is not the end,” everyone now understood the meaning of those words. There was no coffin of the Golden Queen here, nor any other coffins—only burial artifacts. In other words, this was merely a burial chamber for grave goods.
So where was the Golden Queen’s main tomb? Was it hidden beneath one of the countless caves above? Then why had Master Ni chosen this very spot to vanish? Liu Dashao’s gaze returned to the mural. Had Master Ni truly suffered the same fate as those assassins? A chill ran through him again.
At this moment, Fan Debiao exploded in frustration: “Damn it! What kind of cursed place is this? No coffin of the Golden Queen, no other chambers. Damn it!”
Seeing Fan Debiao’s outburst, Liu Dashao quickly played his role as the calm leader, reminding him to stay composed. “You can’t lose your temper in an ancient tomb.”
“Master Ni wouldn’t have vanished into thin air. There must be something hidden here. The real treasures must be in the main tomb,” Uncle Diao declared in a commanding tone.
Hearing this, everyone began searching the area. Fan Debiao knocked on walls left and right, while Liu Dashao and Wang Feifei joined in. But after a long time of searching, they found nothing of significance. Everyone became increasingly anxious, and a few even considered taking some grave goods and leaving—a situation Uncle Diao was powerless to change. Old Wu also fell silent.
Just then, something unexpected happened. The entire tomb chamber suddenly began to tremble. A wall in front of them slowly began to rise, like a rolling door, until it reached the ceiling.
Behind the wall, thick smoke billowed out. As the smoke cleared, a figure emerged. When the haze finally dissipated, everyone stared in shock—it was Master Ni!
There he stood, directly opposite them, having emerged from behind the rising wall. Seeing him, everyone felt a mix of shock and joy.
It wasn’t surprising that there was a hidden mechanism here, but Liu Dashao found it strange that a large group had searched for hours without finding anything, while Master Ni alone had located the mechanism quickly and even entered through it. There was only one explanation—he was extremely familiar with this place.
But how could he be so familiar? Had he been here before? That couldn’t be right—if he had been here before, his reaction when Uncle Diao mentioned the cave wouldn’t have been so intense.
At any rate, he was here now. Thinking too much was pointless. They might as well just ask him directly.
Master Ni slowly stepped out from behind the rising wall. His clothes were torn and tattered, his hoodie missing, though he still had a towel covering his face. His clothes were in such bad shape that some parts were nearly in shreds. Judging from his appearance, he had clearly gone through a fierce struggle inside, though he had ultimately emerged victorious.
Everyone stared at him in astonishment. Strangely enough, despite his young age, Master Ni had snow-white hair, his melancholic eyes hidden beneath long white strands. He carried a backpack on his back, bulging with unknown contents. Most eyes were fixed on that backpack, likely assuming he had already obtained whatever treasures were hidden inside. Liu Dashao thought the same—he wondered if it might contain the very discovery Uncle Diao had made all those years ago.
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