Chapter Seventy-Two: Polar Reversal, the Azure Sky Tomb

Page 1 of 3

Guo Jia carefully examined the burial chamber, but found it completely empty on all sides. He probed the stone walls around him, searching for anything unusual, but nothing stood out. Then, he crouched down to inspect the floor and noticed a tile of a different color. Just as Guo Jia reached out, intending to press it, Er Niu hurriedly stopped him.

“Wait! What if it’s a trap? Tiles with colors or markings like these often hide devious mechanisms,” he warned, putting everyone on high alert.

With that, Er Niu held his breath, focused, and jabbed the suspicious floor tile with one finger.

Zi Fan watched in amazement; he hadn’t expected Er Niu’s manual skills to be so refined—this was not something ordinary people could do. Those who mastered the art of probing with two fingers had unusually long, sensitive index and middle fingers on their right hand. They could reach into the tiniest crevices to investigate, and easily crack subtle traps in tombs. This skill, passed down from childhood through bitter hardship, was the unique technique of the Chief Tomb Inspector. No one knew where Er Niu had learned it.

“This is bad. We shouldn’t linger here. I fear below lies a pool of mercury,” Er Niu said. Looking at his fingertips, they were turning black, and a cold mist was slowly seeping up from beneath the floor.

“The tomb of Duke Huan of Qi lies twenty-one miles south of Linzi on Ox Mountain… At the end of the Yongjia era, people excavated it. They found a sealing board, then a pool of mercury. A strange vapor prevented entry. After several days, they sent in dogs first.”

“So the legendary mercury tomb truly exists. If not for your quick thinking, I’d have already sunk into that deadly pool,” Guo Jia thought to himself.

Er Niu paced the chamber, looking around as if searching for something, muttering under his breath, “The door is protected by eight layers of traps, nothing like the forms of Yin and Yang or the eight trigrams.”

“So it is…” he murmured.

Suddenly, there was a grinding sound as gears turned. The wall before them slowly began to rise, revealing a hidden chamber beyond.

Zi Fan gripped his weapon tightly, alert for any danger that might emerge. The group cautiously stepped inside and were immediately stunned.

The luminous pearls on the walls blazed to life, illuminating heaps of gold, silver, and jewels piled like small mountains on the floor—yet, to the tomb’s owner, these were likely mere trifles.

But the most breathtaking sight was a coffin shaped like an exquisite palace. This palace, though small, was crafted with astonishing artistry. Yet the bold inscription on its facade sent chills through everyone: “Open the coffin and you die,” four ominous characters, streaked with red stains, a detail that filled the group with dread.

“Holy hell, look at all that gold! And diamonds—so many diamonds!” Er Niu gasped, his eyes wide and mouth agape in disbelief.

“This tomb’s owner was truly wealthy. If only I could be buried in such grandeur after I die,” Er Niu sighed, trailing after Zi Fan.

“We’ve struck it rich! My lord, we’ll never have to worry about military expenses again, and there’ll be plenty left over,” Guo Jia exclaimed, overjoyed.

Page 2 of 3

Suddenly, Er Niu’s eyes gleamed as he lunged for a tomb guardian beast, but midway a hand darted out and snatched the treasure first. The fat man bristled, but when he looked up he stammered, “Lord Guo? My lord!” Guo Jia was not a man who coveted wealth; he always regarded treasures as worthless, sparing them only a glance before moving on. Why was he acting differently now?

Zi Fan watched as Guo Jia silently stuffed burial artifacts into his backpack, smiling knowingly. “This tomb guardian beast holds a secret inside its belly.”

The vermilion bird was depicted as the main motif, with a sacred avenue leading up to it. On each side of this avenue stood stone monuments. From the Qianling Mausoleum onward, this became custom: one pair of stone pillars facing south to north, a pair of mythical beasts, a pair of ostriches, five pairs of stone birds, and ten pairs of stone men—each lifelike and imposing. Outside the Vermilion Bird Gate stood three pairs of stone horses, and in front of each city gate, a pair of stone lions, all tall and majestic.

By appointing the Vermilion Bird as the tomb’s guardian, the owner’s status was further elevated. Zi Fan walked slowly to the wall, picked up an oil lamp, and studied it carefully.

Just then, Guo Jia approached. “My lord, you have a keen eye. Of all these treasures, this one is the most valuable. Though it appears ordinary and is often overlooked, it would fetch a fortune outside.”

Zi Fan turned, curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

“A perpetual lamp…”

“According to records, the ancient eternal lamps used in tombs were fueled by mermaid oil, just like the perpetual lamp in the Yellow Emperor’s mausoleum, burning eternally. Mermaids were believed to come from the Eastern Sea, and people considered tombs the ‘yin residence’—the home after death. They wished for the same brightness as in life, so the ancients invented perpetual lamps. It’s said that even in the tomb of the First Emperor of Qin, there were such lamps, burning mermaid oil to last a thousand years. These are priceless and exceedingly rare,” Guo Jia explained.

In Buddhism, lamps symbolize light, which represents wisdom. The lamp itself is a metaphor for wisdom’s illumination, dispelling darkness and ignorance, which is why long-burning lamps are offered before Buddhas and Bodhisattvas—to shine wisdom’s light and break through ignorance.

The lamp mainly stands for the Dharma, showing that the Buddha’s teachings are present everywhere and at all times, capable of dispelling the darkness of sentient beings and awakening their innate wisdom. It seems this tomb’s owner was also well-versed in Buddhism, Guo Jia murmured softly.

“How are we supposed to carry all these treasures out? With just us, it would take a lifetime,” Er Niu said, shaking his head dumbly at the mountain of jewels.

Guo Jia stepped forward and gave Er Niu a hard slap on the head. “Are you an idiot? Look at you, eyes glued to the loot. Why can’t you wait until we’re outside and then send people in to move it? How can you not understand something so simple?”

Er Niu scratched his head, “Well, I’ve never seen so much treasure in my life, heh heh…”

“Look! There’s a small coffin up there…”

No one could tell who among the tomb raiders first spotted the tiny coffin in the darkness.

It was an ancient coffin—no, a stone sarcophagus. What ancient remains or grave goods lay inside? Or perhaps a hidden trap? The sarcophagus bore a strange stone figurine.

Page 3 of 3

Suddenly, someone began muttering about having slept for so long, their eyes growing vacant and lifeless.

“This… this…” Er Niu, quick as ever, grabbed a large black hoof and stuffed it into the man’s mouth, then slapped a talisman onto his forehead.

“Damn it, this little thing is possessed. Let Grandpa Niu handle you.”

“What happened to me…” The one who’d been bewitched fell to the ground, panic-stricken, patting himself all over in terror.

“Don’t worry, it was just a minor illusion—one of the methods the tomb owner used to cloud our minds,” Guo Jia said calmly.

“But this tomb is full of scholarly mysteries. The jar burial—using urns, pot-shaped ding vessels, steamers, or incised basins, usually sealed with a wide-mouthed or lidded bowl, sometimes a three-legged bowl—was typically used for burying young children.”

“This is truly uncanny. That must be a child born in a coffin, known among the people as a ‘coffin child.’ Its presence here can only mean trouble,” Guo Jia said, closing his eyes in thought.

“It seems the identity of this tomb’s owner is far more complex than what’s carved on the stone stele. There are hidden secrets here!” Zi Fan patted his head, realizing this expedition had indeed opened a can of worms—the system’s mission was never meant to be so easy.

“Time is short; we can’t waste it here. We must find a way out,” Er Niu urged, noting the air in the chamber was growing thinner.

“Which way should we go? Which path do we choose?”

Before the three of them, two diverging paths appeared.

The ghostly flames flickered and died, leaving the air thick with an indefinable presence.

The two paths looked identical, one leading left, the other right.

“Let’s just pick one. If it’s wrong, we can always turn back,” Er Niu suggested boldly.

“That’s all we can do. But we must mark our route along the way, so the troops can find us later,” Guo Jia agreed, nodding.

The three of them searched the room one last time, instructing the other tomb raiders to leave distinctive marks everywhere and to light torches in the darkness. Carefully combing the burial chamber for any clues, and finding none, they made their decision and set off, finally leaving this place behind.