The bandits atop the peak were peering anxiously into the distance when suddenly, the mountainside below erupted in a chaotic, rattling clamor, as if a pot had boiled over. The sound startled the hundreds gathered there, who rushed to the edge of the cliff and looked down, mouths agape, barely able to believe what they were seeing.

From the dense clouds and heavy fog deep within the mountain gap, a mass of black vapor was violently dispersed as a giant centipede, easily ten feet long, rapidly crawled up from the chasm floor. This great centipede was composed of twenty-two flattened segments; its head was pitch black, the first segment a brownish-yellow, while the rest of its segments were deep blue on the dorsal side and dull yellow underneath. Each segment bore five pairs of legs, those near its mouth transforming into gill-feet, with sharp, agile claws.

Most astonishingly, the centipede possessed six wings—three pairs of entirely transparent membranes, much like a dragonfly’s—and its entire body exuded dark miasma. A distinct red streak ran along its spine from head to tail. Its hundred-plus walking legs lined up on both sides, antennae waving, as it clawed its way up the nearly vertical cliff face, ascending with a rumbling motion akin to a black dragon swimming upwards.

What surprised the onlookers even more was that a person was perched atop the six-winged centipede's head. The man wore a faded green robe, carried a pigeon cage on his back, and had a strip of cinnabar silk tied around his arm. The red silk sash on his lapel fluttered wildly in the wind. It was none other than Chen Xiazi, the chieftain of the Xieling Bandits. He gripped a pair of the great centipede’s mandibles, pulling desperately. Clearly startled, the centipede whipped up a gust of black wind from the ravine and charged up the precipice along the steep cliff face, rocketing towards the summit.

This centipede favored the cool and shade, usually hiding in the damp depths of the valley during daylight and rarely emerging when the sun shone. Yet, by some sheer fluke, Chen Xiazi had stumbled onto its back, instantly terrifying it into a frantic ascent. In its panic, it forgot even to secrete venom. Reaching the top of the sheer cliff, it suddenly arched its body, using the strength of its head and tail, leaping a distance of over ten zhang in a single bound.

Among the bandits remaining on the peak were many experienced men, but none had ever imagined such a massive centipede emerging from a crevice hundreds of feet deep. With creatures of the centipede family, their ferocity was judged by the number of legs; in the chaos, there was no time to count precisely, but the sheer multitude of its appendages was enough to make one’s scalp tingle and crawl. Furthermore, an old centipede takes a hundred years to grow a single pair of wings; this one boasted six—what level of profound cultivation must it possess?

The Xieling bandits, along with the soldiers of the engineering battalion and the pistol company, were all armed. Seeing the might of this centipede, they were frozen in shock. They let out a shout, scattering in all directions to take cover, none thinking to fire their weapons. Paradoxically, this saved Chen Xiazi’s life; had the guns opened fire all at once, he would surely have been riddled like a sieve.

But Chen Xiazi’s own predicament was hardly enviable. He was violently yanked upward by the centipede’s swift climb, his body tossed about like a weightless paper kite, knowing that letting go meant smashing into paste below. Suddenly, the sunlight was blinding, and the centipede leaped into the air, abandoning the cliff face. Its three pairs of wings were merely decoration; its surge from the chasm floor into the sky was driven entirely by the massive inertia generated by its fright. Seeing the bright daylight, it had no intention of lingering. It executed a sharp turn in mid-air, then thrashed its head and tail, plunging back down. It veered toward the dark depths, colliding with one of the bandits clinging to the rock face and knocking him into the abyss. In an instant, it vanished into the swirling clouds. As the sound of scratching against the wall—like salt beans popping in a hot pan—ceased, the six-winged centipede was gone.

When the great centipede dropped, Chen Xiazi was flung from its head, tumbling end over end before landing in the dense canopy of a large tree atop the peak. Fortunately, the branches were thick and leafy, saving him from broken bones. Even so, he felt an agonizing ache to the marrow, having been sent heavenward and back again, his mind a dizzying mess, completely disoriented.

Only after the giant centipede retreated deep into the clouds did Luo Laowai pull out his gun, shoot a few fleeing deserters, rally his troops, and rush over to carry Chen Xiazi down from the tree. At this moment, the mute Kunlun Mole and others also scrambled onto the peak. Worried for their leader’s safety, everyone crowded around to see if Chen Xiazi was alive or dead.

Luo Laowai called his name several times before Chen Xiazi finally opened his tightly shut eyes. "Ah," he groaned, wincing as he sucked air between his teeth. After the dizzying sequence of going up and then down several times, his head was spinning wildly, stars danced before his eyes, and everything looked doubled. After a long moment of regaining composure, he looked fuzzily at Luo Laowai and muttered, "Commander Luo... why do you have two heads?"

Luo Laowai’s entire plan of expanding his arsenal through grave robbing hinged on Chen Xiazi. Seeing him unharmed brought immense relief. Moreover, everyone present had witnessed Chen Xiazi standing on the centipede, flying midway into the air, and escaping the peril unscathed—surely no ordinary man could achieve that. Everyone praised him: "Chief Chen, truly worthy of being the head of the Green Forest, possessing skills that pierce the heavens. To witness it today truly convinces us; we vow to follow you until death..."

Though still shaken, Chen Xiazi maintained the demeanor befitting the Xieling chieftain. He managed a strained, twitching smile, clasped his hands, and said tremulously, "You flatter me, you flatter me. Heroes follow heroes, and brave men stand beside brave men. If not for the deep loyalty of my brothers, willing to risk their lives to save me, even if I had three heads and six arms, I doubt I would be alive now."

Saying this, Chen Xiazi tried to struggle to his feet, only to discover his legs felt like soft noodles. With his soul floating free and his spirit scattered, standing was out of the question.

Luo Laowai quickly waved over a few subordinates. Winding mountain paths in Hunan made it difficult for even powerful men to travel by horse or sedan chair; thus, the two-person carrying litter (huagan) was common. They found a litter and carried Chen Xiazi away. They reformed their ranks and retreated to the foot of Pingshan Mountain.

It wasn't until dusk that Chen Xiazi truly recovered. This first attempt at grave robbing had ended in unprecedented failure, and the more he pondered it, the more frustrated he became. He felt a pang of regret for not heeding the words of the Ban Shan Daoist, Partridge Whistle. But as the Xieling Chieftain, returning empty-handed after leading the expedition—how could he face anyone in the Green Forest again? In that world, life was cheap, but face was paramount. Yet, to lead men into the underground palace again would only invite disaster; the ancient tomb seemed a veritable nest of poisonous scorpions, far beyond the capacity of the Xieling forces alone to handle.

As Chen Xiazi hesitated, Hong Guniang advised him from the side, "Having traveled so far into this remote region, we have lost the advantage of time and place. Why not retreat temporarily to Xiangyin and plot a better strategy..."

Hearing Hong Guniang suggest retreat, Luo Laowai would not permit it. He interrupted before she finished: "Hold! I, Luo Laowai, am a man of arms; I aim for immediate victory. To return without success after bringing the men here—how can I account for that? Let’s do it all at once: if we can’t enter from above, we’ll dig open the tomb gate from the base and proceed step-by-step with lime. In military terms, this is called 'securing ground inch by inch.' It will take time, but it leaves no loopholes. Even if there’s a six-winged centipede in the tomb, **damn its mother, I’ll have my men blast it with a few volleys of rifle fire, and I guarantee it’ll get a hundred transparent holes."

Luo Laowai finished speaking just as he caught sight of Hong Guniang’s beauty in the setting sun, her sharp heroism making her incomparably radiant. His previous desires rekindled, he tried persuasion. He knew Hong Guniang’s greatest wish was to revive the Moon Gate's ancient sleight of hand in Shanghai. "We plunder graves for wealth to achieve greatness in this chaotic era. Once the world is settled, your Brother Luo and Chief Chen will surely be granted noble titles. By then, you will naturally go to the dazzling lights of the Shanghai Bund. With your delicate frame, your Moon Gate magic, and my willingness to invest heavily in promoting you, we’ll give you money, we’ll give you status—we will make you famous across half the sky..."

Luo Laowai hadn't finished his proposition when Hong Guniang delivered a sharp slap across his face. Her movement was lightning fast, leaving Luo Laowai’s cheek burning hot; the blow nearly straightened his crooked mouth. Luo Laowai knew he had spoken rashly out of impulse and used crude language, but ever since he became a warlord ruling like an emperor, who dared lay a finger on Commander Luo? He was instantly enraged, considering drawing his pistol to execute this ungrateful woman right there.

Chen Xiazi knew Hong Guniang’s fierce temperament—she preferred shattering jade to enduring disgrace, even once wiping out an entire family for revenge. Luo Laowai, on the other hand, was a ruthless tyrant who spared no one. A conflict between them would be disastrous. He quickly intervened: "Commander Luo, restrain your thunderous wrath and hold back your tiger-like might! Your humble brother is skilled at physiognomy and has long seen that you possess 'fetal potential'—though your destiny was marred by too much killing early on, causing your immortal bones to wither. But once your merit ripens, you will surely reach high office. This Hong Guniang also possesses the bones of Dao. That slap she just dealt you has shaken off three years of bad luck. It seems Commander Luo’s grand ambitions are imminent. Congratulations!"

Luo Laowai had always respected Chen Xiazi's abilities and believed him almost entirely. He gave Hong Guniang a lecherous stare, pursed his lips, and said, "I too am a man of chivalrous spirit and tender heart; why would I stoop to quarrel with a weak woman? If Sister feels the itch later, just come and hit me again. This face of mine, **damn it all, exists precisely for you."

Chen Xiazi feared Luo Laowai would continue his loose talk and cause more trouble. He knew Hong Guniang was not the type to be intimidated by Luo Laowai’s tens of thousands of men; if truly angered, she would dare kill even the Emperor. These two—one with power, one with skill—were both indispensable lieutenants to the Xieling Chieftain. They could not be allowed to undermine the group's cohesion. Thus, he quickly steered the conversation back to planning the second attempt to loot Pingshan.

It seemed clear now that no amount of lime poured from the peak would reach the poisonous insects hidden in the rock crevices of the underground palace. Descending the cliff face would only lead them to be eaten by centipedes again. Moreover, the six-winged centipede lurking deep within might not even be choked by the lime; only concentrated gunfire could kill it. But a large force could not descend the cliff to the palace; they had to enter through the tomb passage. Therefore, Luo Laowai’s strategy of advancing slowly through the passage towards the central chamber was the only viable option.

First, they urgently dispatched men back to fetch necessary supplies. Then, the remaining troops were deployed near the earthly gate at the foot of Pingshan, where they began excavating the tomb entrance according to Chen Xiazi’s directions.

Utilizing his specialty of discerning the earth through listening, Chen Xiazi mapped out several potential entry points for the tomb passage. Luo Laowai then directed the engineering corps to work through the night, illuminating the site with lamps as they dug.

Around midnight, a fierce wind and rain suddenly swept through the mountains, the downpour intensifying until the world was pitch black, punctuated only by rolling thunder. Such heavy rain made using pine-torch illumination impossible, but the digging operation at the mountain’s base did not cease. They used horse lanterns for light, donning rain gear like bamboo hats and straw capes, groping for the tomb entrance amidst flashes of stark white lightning and sheets of rain.

In those days, a common folk belief held that encountering abnormal celestial events while excavating ancient tombs was a sign that the spirits of the dead were manifesting. The tempestuous weather in the deep mountains naturally inspired dread. Some of the more timid men in the engineering battalion began to murmur among themselves, whispering while they shoveled dirt.

One said, "Brother, this rain is bubbling! It must be the lonely ghosts inside the tomb crying out, begging for mercy."

The other replied, "Little Brother, didn’t you see the sky full of lightning and thunder? That’s not wailing spirits; it’s the vengeful ghosts in the tomb enraged! If we dig deeper, the vengeful spirits will surely come out to claim our lives..."

Just as they reached the peak of their apprehension, two gunshots rang out from the rain. Those two unlucky soldiers were instantly 'marked' in the back of the head by Luo Laowai’s revolver. Without a sound, their skulls burst open, and they died instantly.

Luo Laowai had been patrolling with his gun, supervising the engineering battalion’s digging. He overheard the two whispering about ghosts, and a murderous urge seized him. He ended their lives with two quick shots, then roared fiercely, "Damn your ancestors! Look clearly! Anyone else who dares spread rumors and disrupt morale will meet the same fate as these two!"

Luo Laowai was serious this time. The bodies of the two executed engineers were not removed; they were left lying in the rain for everyone to see. Around the excavation site, a hundred or so men from the pistol company stood guard like fierce demons, their German-made twenty-shot Mauser pistols cocked, the black muzzles swiveling with every glance. The engineers understood the severity of the situation and dared not utter another word. Squads wielding shovels and picks attacked the earth in silence, fighting against the torrential rain.

At the base of the mountain, several large trenches had been dug beneath the earthly gate. The rainwater flowed in so deeply it could submerge the workers’ heads. They forced the captured local villagers to use buckets to bail water out, working like this for most of the night until they finally unearthed something. Those who saw it cried out in amazement: "Human heads? Watermelons? How could there be watermelons in soil this deep? And there seem to be more underneath!"