As Chen and Luo heard the earth-movers causing a commotion, shouting about unearthing "human heads, watermelons," they knew something was amiss and led their men over to investigate. Dawn was breaking; the night's heavy rain had stopped. The earth gate was on the shady side of the mountain, on high, dry ground where water would flow away, so no more accumulated water surged in after the rain ceased. However, the ground was churned into uneven pits by the workers, a mix of slick mud and murky water. After navigating several hastily dug trenches, Chen the Blind parted the crowd to look inside and was greatly astonished, letting out an involuntary "Eh?" thinking, Strange.

Indeed, several feet beneath the surface lay numerous melon-like objects, complete with vines and leaves, though all were buried deep. Their rinds were bumpy and uneven, resembling human faces, dotted with speckles that looked like dried blood. Any unwitting observer stumbling upon them might easily mistake them for "human heads" unearthed from the soil.

Luo the Crooked kicked one open. The flesh inside was as crimson as blood, splashing out copious amounts of red juice, yet it was nothing like the pulp of an ordinary watermelon. He leaned toward Chen the Blind and murmured, "Boss Chen, I worked as a body delivery runner in Xiangxi for a time. Though the mountains are full of oddities, I’ve never seen anything like this. Now that we’ve dug it up, is it a good omen or a bad one?" Though he was a warlord who had ordered countless killings, accustomed to deceitful dealings and brazen cons, he had risen from the lowest strata of the old society and still harbored a fear of the unseen. Discovering something resembling severed heads struck him as an utterly terrible sign, hence his question.

Chen the Blind carefully lifted one melon from the soil, studying it for a long time before stating, "Brothers, you may not know, but the world only has winter melon, watermelon, and squash, yet why is there no 'North Melon'? Truthfully, it’s not that they don't exist, but very few people know of them. Because North Melons only grow in desolate, treacherous places like caves in barren mountains, they are also called 'corpse-head brutes'—manifestations born from the lingering resentment of the deceased. They often sprout underground and are rarely seen. What we’ve dug up are these corpse-head brutes from the soil."

Years ago, there was a saying: the spirits of those who died unjustly all travel downward. For instance, beneath a hanged person, the soil would contain a section of black charcoal; beneath a decapitated corpse, human-head melons would sprout. This was said to be the result of an inextinguishable, dying resentment solidifying into matter, usually found at execution grounds or ancient battlefields, but rarely seen during grave robbing. Chen the Blind was knowledgeable about all worldly things; though he recognized the object, he couldn't immediately judge its fortune or misfortune. However, since the area around Bottle Mountain was an ancient battlefield where countless Miao people of the Seventy-Two Caves were massacred, the vengeful spirits trapped beneath the mountain must have resentment reaching the heavens. Thus, unearthing corpse-head brutes underground wasn't entirely unexpected; rather, it confirmed the profound, heavy Yin energy at the mountain's base, meaning they weren't far from the tomb door.

Luo the Crooked, though an illiterate and inherently brutal warlord, knew that sometimes brute force wasn't the only answer. Now, seeing the discovery of the strange objects, his engineers were terrified. He needed to stabilize morale to prevent more deserters. His eyes darted about as an idea struck him. He carried another corpse-head brute out of the muddy pit and mumbled, "Bridges to bridges, roads to roads... Clothes belong to the pawnshop, the East Sea Nezha fears nothing... except a young wife guarding an empty chamber..." He was reciting an incantation he'd learned as a body courier. He pretended to chant a few lines to pacify the wronged souls, hoping to soothe the engineers' minds and prevent delays to the main business of tomb raiding.

Having not used those ritual phrases in years, they had become rusty, and he could only speak nonsense. Unexpectedly, after Luo the Crooked had rambled for only a few sentences, the corpse-head brute he held seemed to come alive, suddenly rolling from his grasp and tumbling up the muddy slope.

All the bandits and soldiers gasped in shock. Luo the Crooked was so startled he fell backward right into the mud and water. Chen the Blind, quicker on his feet, had already drawn his small Divine Blade and cleaved the corpse-head brute in two with a single stroke. It turned out there was a black centipede nesting inside the melon, seeking cool darkness, and it was now severed in half by the sharp blade. Inside the centipede were dozens of pearls the size of fingernails. This creature was called the Centipede Pearl; it must not be brought near the mouth or nose, but those suffering from festering sores or toxic rashes could use it, repeatedly rubbing the affected area, to draw out the poison—a rare medicinal ingredient.

Luo the Crooked mistook them for luminous pearls and hastily ordered his men to dig up all the corpse-head brutes from the earth and slice them open for inspection. Finding nothing more, he threw a fit of temper, losing all desire to perform his ritual. He roared at the engineers to resume work, declaring they wouldn't rest until the entrance to the Bottle Mountain ancient tomb was uncovered that day.

The soldiers in the Engineer Sapper Battalion were mostly opium addicts. Having dug for an entire night, they were utterly exhausted and nodding off. A few who couldn't bear their addiction collapsed right there in the mud and were immediately dragged into the woods and executed. This tactic of killing one to warn a hundred proved effective; the rest had no choice but to continue digging with spades and hoes.

To make a long story short, they dug until noon, and sure enough, deep beneath the soil where the corpse-head brutes were found, they struck a magnificent, grand stone gate.

It turned out that the previous night’s fierce storm—thunder, lightning, and wind—had perfectly suited Chen the Blind’s method of listening to the wind and thunder. Amidst the storm, he had clearly heard continuous reverberations underground, pinpointing the tomb door at the base of the mountain, albeit buried extremely deep. Any ordinary tomb robber would lack such skill in locating hidden apertures; otherwise, even after exhausting hundreds of engineers until they vomited blood, they couldn't have found the door this quickly.

Luo the Crooked was overjoyed. He rewarded the engineers who had reached the stone door with two taels of top-grade Fushou Gao (opium) each. As he spoke, he led Chen the Blind and the rest of the bandits over, shoving aside the exhausted, swaying engineers. They beheld a dark cyan stone door, divided into two leaves, each over three men high and equally wide, resembling a tightly sealed city gate. The stone door, buried deep underground, was extremely heavy, easily weighing three to five thousand catties. The seams were sealed with molten lead and iron, cast so tightly that even inserting steel chisels offered no purchase. The subterranean mausoleum was vast; though the side chambers held no jewels or jade, local legend claimed that the rare treasures dedicated by Emperor Daojun to the immortals were stored in a deep well within the main hall. Luo the Crooked's greed intensified, causing his throat to dry up, and he swallowed several times.

At this point, a sharp-eyed bandit spotted ancient characters carved into the stone door. After clearing away the dirt, they couldn't recognize them. The men of the Xieling Bandits were all highwaymen; although some among them had rudimentary education, their knowledge was shallow, and they couldn't decipher the ancient seal script carved there. Yet, curiosity is universal; the less they understood, the more they wanted to know. In all their previous tomb raids, they had never seen writing on a main tomb door—it didn't conform to burial customs.

Among the group, only the Bandit Leader Chen the Blind was truly learned, often boasting of his vast knowledge and literary references. He was consequently invited to the front by the others to examine the ancient seal script on the stone door. With just one glance, Chen the Blind’s heart felt like a fifteen-bucket well being drawn—a turbulent mix of alarm and disbelief. The line of large characters on the tomb door was not some stela inscription or seal script but a curse laid by the tomb owner upon grave robbers of the Faqiu and Mojin schools. Although the tomb held Mongols, the robbers were always Han Chinese, so the script was carved in Chinese characters, using the cursive style of stelae, but not ancient seal script. The content contained numerous venomous and malicious curses directed at anyone who dared to disturb this subterranean dwelling.

As the leader of Xieling, Chen the Blind had always plundered great tombs across the land and never believed in the nonsense about retribution for grave robbing. But standing before the massive stone door of the tomb passage, he felt an indescribable strangeness, a sense of foreboding rising spontaneously. He vaguely sensed that within the gloom behind this door lay immense danger; once they broke through, a nightmare awaited them all. As the saying goes, "Heaven above cannot be deceived; consider before you act; all things eventually meet their reckoning, only the timing differs." Having engaged in tomb raiding for so long, even the unrivaled great bandits of Xieling could sometimes feel their resolve waver. But there was no turning back once the arrow was loosed. Hundreds of eyes were fixed on Chen the Blind, allowing him no room for hesitation or fear. These thoughts flashed and vanished, and he pointed to the tomb door, announcing to the bandits, "Let's read the inscription on the stela; these are the former Ying... These are all the titles and official ranks of the tomb owner. Carving them on the stone door is a custom of those Western barbarians; we need not be surprised."

The bandits nodded repeatedly, inwardly giving him a thumbs-up. Luo the Crooked chuckled, "As expected, Boss Chen has the insight. I can’t make out a single one of these devilish squiggles." Then he snapped his fingers and called over the Engineer Battalion Commander: "Hey! Quickly prepare explosives for me! Blow up this gate of the foreign devils!"

The Xieling tradition of tomb raiding, since ancient times, involved large shovels and long hoes—they plundered a tomb and destroyed it without sentiment. They immediately left twenty to thirty engineers skilled in setting blasting charges, ordering them to drill holes in the door for explosives. The massive bluestone door was hard and heavy; a single strike from a chisel only left a white mark. This kind of work couldn't be finished quickly. The rest took the opportunity to go to the woods to eat, sleep, and conserve energy, waiting for the entry into the tomb.

By the afternoon, the sound of the final few blasts echoed through the mountains. The several-thousand-catties tomb door was finally blown open. A continuous rumbling sound, like smoke, billowed out from inside the door, lasting until the rising of the Jade Rabbit (midnight). The bandits assumed the foul air in the passage had been blown away by the wind. When they scouted inside, they cried out in dismay: the deep part of the passage was blocked by stone slabs, each enormous—the smallest weighing around two hundred catties. Since explosives couldn't be safely used in the passage, they sent the engineers back to drill holes shaped like ox-noses into the stones, attaching thick ropes, and using mules and horses to drag them out forcibly—truly employing every conceivable means: "ox pulling, horse dragging."

This process consumed significant time and another full day of labor, driving Luo the Crooked to scratch his head in agitation. Chen the Blind, however, already knew that Yuan Dynasty tombs constructed using the method of "cutting mountains for coffins and piercing stone for storage" were supposed to be like this. If such preparations hadn't been made, wouldn't these tombs have been plundered clean centuries ago? Thus, he remained calm, directing the bandits step by step. After all the slabs were removed, they broke through a second stone door on the interior, and the long tomb passage was finally exposed before them. Judging by the materials and construction of these massive stone doors, they had clearly disassembled the Daoist temples and palaces on Bottle Mountain and used the stone steps and beams to block the passage, preventing thieves. This entrance passage was still far from the Nether Gate of the underground palace; who knew how many more gateways lay ahead, certainly containing various mechanisms. He immediately instructed everyone to proceed with extreme caution, under no circumstances allowing carelessness.

The bandits lined up before the door. Some carried freshly brought straw bags and quicklime to deal with venomous insects or poisoned people lurking in the tomb. Others dragged along several "Centipede Hanging Mountain Ladders," to be used for building bridges over chasms or scaling obstacles within the ancient mausoleum. The men in the front rank each held a large bundle of straw, soaked through with water poured over nine-layered animal hides hidden inside. Furthermore, all the bandits carried rattan shields to defend against hidden arrows and fire traps within the tomb. Luo the Crooked's troops had all smoked their fill of opium, bullets chambered, waiting only for the leader's command.

Chen the Blind surveyed the hundreds of men lined up before the tomb passage and felt a surge of pride. While this formation didn't compare to the tens of thousands of soldiers excavating Han Dynasty imperial tombs in the past, it was still quite impressive. Seeing the Xieling Bandits, long past their prime, now showing signs of revival under his leadership, a rush of heroism filled his chest. He spoke loudly to the crowd: "We weren't born as mere highwaymen. It is only because the current age is in chaos that we choose the path of outlaws to live like heroes, performing deeds that command respect, so the world will look upon us anew. The gold and silver treasures in the underground palace beyond this passage—are these exquisite objects truly meant for the corpses buried here? Ask yourselves: weren't every single one of these items plundered from the common folk? They enjoyed them in life, and now they must decay beside them in death. Do you truly believe the Old Man above has no eyes? Now is the time for the cycle of heaven to turn, and for us to take them—this is acting on Heaven's behalf. This is what one calls receiving retribution. Gentlemen, those who achieve extraordinary things must be heroes. As the saying goes, boldness wins the world, while caution keeps one rooted. Cast aside your fears and follow me into the earth!"

The bandits roared in affirmation and followed their leader into the passage. Luo the Crooked also drew his pistol and, walking along, added a few lines to supplement Chen the Blind's speech: "Every man who goes forward will be rewarded. Those who retreat... will surely taste my bullets. Damn their ancestors, leave none of those glorious artifacts behind! Move every last piece back to my headquarters!"

Chen the Blind was skilled at reading faces and knew that although Luo the Crooked was a quick-tempered King of Hell, he was also a man of the outlaws and valued loyalty. Moreover, since future tomb raiding would depend on Chen the Blind, he figured Luo wouldn't betray him. It was fine for this warlord leader, addicted to grave robbing and obsessed with corpses, to follow them into the underground palace. However, the garrison of soldiers left to guard the tomb entrance was commanded by one of Luo the Crooked's lieutenants, who, though a trusted subordinate, was still somewhat unreliable. Being cunning and cautious, Chen the Blind ordered Hong Niang to stay outside with a contingent of Xieling bandits, just in case any sudden changes occurred.

The bandits covered their faces with black cloths and flooded into the tomb passage. The front row consisted of those carrying bundles of long straw, pigeon cages hanging from their waists. Those behind them carried lamps for illumination; torches and horse lanterns were all prepared. This passage was originally the vaulted corridor leading to the alchemical hall; the ancient road was wide and level, capable of accommodating carriages. On both sides, at intervals of about ten steps, stood stone pillars resembling Huabiao (ornamental columns), about the height of a man, originally intended for placing lamps for illumination.

The recent mountain rains had caused slight seepage in the passage, creating a faint drip-drip-drip sound in the distant silence and darkness. Because the door had been sealed for so long, the foul air was difficult to fully clear. Moreover, everyone worried about poisonous insects or traps in this section of the tunnel, so their progress was exceptionally slow. After advancing a short distance, they would leave a lamp lit on a pillar by the wall and immediately use quicklime to seal any cracks they noticed in the walls.

After advancing three to four hundred paces in this manner, the passage gradually widened, but with so many people, the bandits still felt constricted and oppressed; the lamplight appeared dim due to the poor air quality. At the end was a vermilion brick wall, built tightly like a fortress wall, sealing the passage, though it didn't reach the ceiling. Below it was an arched city gate opening; the two doors studded with copper nails were not sealed tightly, but the door rings were locked with iron chains. The Mute Kunlun Molle snatched up his mountain-splitting axe and, with a few swift chops, shattered the chains.

Chen the Blind pointed ahead and ordered men to use the Centipede Hanging Mountain Ladders to push open the steel-studded doors. Several bandits extended four long ladders, their fronts braced against the doors, pushing with force. With a grating, rusty screech, the two large doors were slowly pushed open. The bandits held their breath, staring at this tomb door, wondering what scene lay beyond. But the moment the door was breached, they heard a woman's shrill scream from within. The woman's piercing cry, amplified by the echoing passage, was exceptionally terrifying, sending shivers down the bandits’ scalps.