Chapter 8: Disaster in the Passageway

The Young Master found the eight-treasure exquisite lock on the golden nanmu coffin and used two iron hooks from his treasure box to pick the mechanism.

With a sharp click, the coffin lid sprang open. A foul, pungent stench of black liquid surged upward, hitting the senses with such force that Zhang Wuxun and Wu Xiaoxie, who were standing closest, rolled their eyes back in nausea.

The Young Master, however, remained as indifferent as if he were unaffected, seemingly immune to the overwhelming stench.

"Ugh—"

Fatty frowned, pushed the lid aside, and peered inside, nearly gagging.

"Damn it, why are there so many corpses in here!"

Inside the open coffin, surrounded by swirling mist, one could vaguely make out a large, oval-shaped mass. Entwined and tangled within it were over twenty human limbs, rotted and bloated by the black liquid in the coffin. They were knotted and fused together in a waxy, decayed state, forming a massive, grotesque lump of remains.

Zhang Wuxun covered his nose with the back of his hand, his brow furrowed tightly. "I don't care how many burial goods are in here; I don't want them anymore."

It would be far more efficient to simply stash a few porcelain jars or vases into his spatial storage.

Fatty laughed upon hearing this. "That’s what you said! All the treasures will belong to me, then."

Despite his words, looking at the congealed pools of corpse oil floating on the black water, Fatty hesitated repeatedly, unable to bring himself to reach in. Yet, the thought of leaving the treasures behind made his heart itch with impatience.

Zhang Wuxun offered a suggestion. "Why don't you just find a clay pot or something to scoop the water out first, then you can search through it."

"Eh? That's a good idea!" Fatty’s eyes lit up, and he started to move.

Zhang Wuxun cut in first, "I'll go get you the pots, but we split it eighty-twenty."

Fatty thought it over and agreed; having an extra pair of hands meant they could carry more loot.

Watching the two of them divvy up the potential treasures from the coffin, Wu Xiaoxie curled his lip in silence. "This joint burial coffin is so disgusting, and you two still have the nerve to dig through it."

Fatty, eager to show off, said, "Little Innocent, you don't understand. Whose joint burial coffin looks like a twisted pretzel? This is what’s called a 'Corpse-Nurturing Coffin.' In terms of Feng Shui..."

Zhang Wuxun didn't catch the rest of the explanation. He had already returned to the previous burial chamber to "fetch pots"—or rather, to sneak a few treasures into his spatial storage.

*Huh? Those handled porcelain bowls look decent; they should be worth a fair amount. And there are two celadon plates here—good stuff.*

Zhang Wuxun’s eyes widened, and he stuffed everything into his storage space. He was grateful that the System had provided him with such a large capacity.

"Muyu, what are you doing?"

Wu Xiaoxie’s voice suddenly came from behind him.

Zhang Wuxun jumped, nearly dropping the jar in his hand.

"Ah? Nothing... I’m not doing anything."

Almost caught red-handed, Zhang Wuxun felt a twinge of guilt. He didn't dare look Wu Xiaoxie in the eye and deflected the topic with a flimsy excuse. "I was just looking for a jar with a handle so I wouldn't get my hands dirty scooping the water."

"I was wondering why you’d disappeared for so long." Wu Xiaoxie took the jar from his hand. "Anything that holds water is fine. You’re too fussy. Just leave it to me and Fatty to scoop; you and the Young Master can just watch from the side."

Zhang Wuxun chuckled dryly, grabbed two jars, and followed him out of the chamber.

"Huh?" Wu Xiaoxie seemed to notice something. "These jars... where did you get them?"

Zhang Wuxun pointed in that direction, and Wu Xiaoxie immediately ran over, squatting down to examine the patterns with intense focus. "Put down the two jars in your hand. Find ones without patterns."

Zhang Wuxun shrugged, said "Oh," placed the jars beside him, and glanced toward the corridor, estimating the time.

He quickly grabbed two worthless jars, rushed over, and shoved them at Fatty. Just as he was about to run back to Wu Xiaoxie, the Young Master blocked his path yet again.

*Damn it!*

Zhang Wuxun stared into the Young Master's eyes, his expression blank, and mouthed, "I don't care what kind of deal you have with Third Uncle Wu, but move aside right now. He’s going to be in danger."

The Young Master didn't budge, his gaze calm and his voice cold. "He needs to grow."

Zhang Wuxun’s brow furrowed. "Don't force me to fight you."

The atmosphere between the two grew tense, neither willing to take a step back. Fatty, humming a tune by the coffin, was busy scooping water and noticed nothing amiss.

Finally, the Young Master stepped aside to clear the path. Before Zhang Wuxun could even feel relieved, he realized the burial chamber on the opposite side had vanished.

Zhang Wuxun: "..."

He turned to the Young Master with a dark expression, a forced smile on his face, and spat out three words through gritted teeth: "You—old—bastard!"

The Young Master remained expressionless, glanced at Zhang Wuxun indifferently, and turned back to help Fatty scoop water.

*Argh!*

Zhang Wuxun threw a flurry of "Dragon-Subduing Palms" at the wall in a fit of impotent rage. He was furious!

***

Zhang Wuxun curled up in the corner, silently drawing circles in his mind, cursing the Young Master to trip on flat ground.

—

On the other side, Wu Xiaoxie looked at the row of jars he had neatly arranged in order, his face full of suppressed excitement. He turned to share his discovery with his companion. "Muyu, look at this! These... Muyu? Muyu! Damn it, where are you?!"

In the empty, pitch-black burial chamber, his voice echoed back. He was clearly alone.

This reminded him of the last time he was abandoned in the main tomb chamber of the Seven-Star Lu Palace; the situation was exactly the same.

Wu Xiaoxie felt both sad and terrified. In his mind, he cursed his treacherous Third Uncle and his unreliable friend Muyu over and over again.

He grabbed a basin and prepared to dash into the corridor, but was shocked to see that the side chamber across the way had turned back into a solid wall of white jade.

Wu Xiaoxie was on the verge of tears. He forced himself to calm down, telling himself that the tomb’s mechanisms were active and that perhaps the side chamber would rotate back in a few minutes.

*But this empty corridor is so damn scary!*

*Why do I feel like something is staring at me from behind?*

Wu Xiaoxie swept his flashlight around, his heart pounding wildly.

*Splash.*

Wu Xiaoxie’s heart skipped a beat, and he swung his flashlight toward the sound.

What did he see?

"My mother!"

It was a Sea Monkey!

Wu Xiaoxie cursed under his breath and bolted toward the way he came. The Sea Monkey, having spotted its prey, let out a roar, lunged from the jade door on the left, and gave chase.

The more anxious he became, the clumsier he grew. Just as he was about to reach the burial chamber, he tripped, fell face-first onto the ground, saw stars, and felt blood running from his nose.

Wu Xiaoxie lay on the ground, dizzily wiping his nose, and let out a small sigh of relief. *At least the bridge of my nose isn't broken, damn it.*