Chen Xiazi led the Xie Ling bandits into the elixir well to smash coffins and defile corpses; when deep within the netherworld, what prohibitions could possibly exist? They hardened their resolve and dared to proceed with impunity, watching as the ancient remains and old sarcophagi were utterly destroyed, only to reveal a bas-relief on the stone floor at the bottom of the well—the images of two fiercely disheveled ghosts.

Though the shapes were vague, one could still discern their ferocious visages, akin to Asuras or Yakshas; even more unsettling was that both specters were eyeless, their sockets merely dark, gaping hollows.

Both Chen Xiazi and Partridge Whistle were seasoned travelers, yet neither had ever encountered a sight like a blind ghost lacking eyes, and seeing these bizarre, eerie apparitions carved into the well floor left them deeply suspicious, unsure of what mystery this represented.

Since antiquity, there had been established practices of burning zombie flesh to refine Yin elixirs, but never had the concept of refining an elixir using spectral souls been heard of. The Bottle Mountain Elixir Palace, while appearing like a celestial palace of jade towers, secretly housed skeletal remains unearthed from various locations, dedicated solely to practicing unorthodox and evil arts that defied conventional reasoning. Furthermore, it seemed the tomb chamber of the Yuan Dynasty general was not located in the Elixir Palace's main hall. What secrets might be concealed behind the stone door carved with fierce ghosts at the well's bottom?

Chen Xiazi’s eyes darted back and forth, and he ordered his men to bring the guide to the elixir well to inquire if the Bottle Mountain had any legends of hauntings. The Cave Barbarian repeatedly shook his head and waved his hands: "May all you heroes know, the Bottle Mountain in our region has always been rumored only to harbor malevolent ancient zombies, but we have never heard of any hauntings..."

Chen Xiazi nodded upon hearing this; no ghosts was good news. Since it was said the Bottle Mountain held a treasure well consecrated by the Daoist Emperor to the Immortals, could this be the very spot? Perhaps when the Yuan army occupied Bottle Mountain, they never discovered the hidden sanctuary beneath the pile of bones at the well's base. He then said to Partridge Whistle, "The secret chamber at the well's bottom is likely a treasure trove. By the looks of it, the Yuan soldiers haven't plundered it. That old emperor who refined elixirs with corpse oil—Heaven cannot tolerate it. The treasures within the Elixir Palace are rightfully for us brothers to claim."

Partridge Whistle had reacquired his two German-made pistols. Having just lost two comrades, a surge of wicked fire rose within him, and he was eager to excavate this entire immortal palace. Hearing Chen Xiazi's words, he readily agreed: "We still have several hundred live chickens left. The blood and crowing of roosters are best for warding off evil and misfortune. Even if the secret chamber holds any malevolent or strange entities, we need not worry. We shall brave any danger to thoroughly explore its wonders."

Thus, Chen Xiazi immediately commanded his men to pry open the stone door carved with the fierce ghosts. The exterior of the door was tightly secured with bronze locks—dog-head locks from the Song Dynasty, their teeth interlocking like a canine's jaw; without the specific key, there was no way to open them. But the Xie Ling bandits believed sheer force could overcome all obstacles. With a hundred shovels, chisels, hammers, and saws brought to bear, they managed to lever the stone slab open in less time than it takes to drink a cup of tea.

A gaping chasm was revealed at the bottom of the well. There were no lamps inside; it was utterly pitch black, where one could not see one's hand before one's face. All they could hear was the whistling sound of the wind rising from below, suggesting the cavern was vast and deep. The engineers lowered a lantern via a long rope to investigate, and when the others finally saw clearly, they were all astonished. At the bottom of the well was a massive Osmanthus tree, lush and shading, its branches spreading like a canopy, growing incredibly dense, seemingly covering who knew how many square miles.

This Osmanthus tree had grown by drawing on the corpse miasma within the elixir well, flourishing at the base of the mountain. The chilling air from the tree's dense canopy permeated through to human senses. Standing at the edge of the opening and peering down, the bandits felt a bone-chilling coolness rising from the tree, causing goosebumps to erupt all over their bodies.

Chen Xiazi found it increasingly strange: why was this ancient, flourishing Osmanthus tree at the bottom of the well sealed by a stone door? The cavern below seemed immensely spacious, not at all like a small secret room meant to hide rare treasures. Cursing the strangeness of it, he ordered his men to bring over the Centipede Climbing Ladder, hook it onto the Osmanthus branches, and descend to investigate.

The bandits carried the bamboo ladders, each bearing chickens, birds, knives, and guns, and began climbing down the tree amidst the gusts of chilling wind. The Osmanthus tree within the well-bottomed cavern was indeed massive, but it didn't grow particularly tall; only its trunk was extremely thick, covered entirely in gnarled, ancient bark. One bandit touched the trunk and felt something odd. He raised his lantern on the ladder to illuminate the spot, terrifying him so much he nearly tumbled off, only to be firmly grabbed by Partridge Whistle.

Partridge Whistle also illuminated the trunk with his lantern. It turned out that the bumps and protuberances on the tree were shaped like human heads and faces, where eyes, eyebrows, ears, nose, and mouth were vaguely discernible—complete facial features, remarkably similar to human faces. However, the expressions on these tree-faces were all distorted in what seemed like howling lamentations, contorted and horrifying.

Partridge Whistle sucked in a sharp breath. The nature of the Osmanthus tree is Yin; the well was filled with many corpses, and the resulting corpse energy had been absorbed into the tree's body. He casually made a cut on the trunk with his knife, and blood began to ooze out. Even racking his brains, he could not fathom why such a large Osmanthus tree, saturated with corpse energy, would be hidden within the immortal palace of elixir refining. This must be a "Corpse Osmanthus," much like the "Ghost Elm," both being rare, ominous entities among flora. Legend claimed such trees served as conduits between the Yin and Yang realms. Every corner of the Bottle Mountain Elixir Palace exuded strangeness, and he still didn't know where the true underground palace lay; considering this, he became inwardly vigilant.

Chen Xiazi felt the same. He and Partridge Whistle led the group to the tree's base, holding lanterns and torches to cast light all around. They saw the roots plunged deep into the stone, and despite the lack of dampness in the cave, the cold was penetrating to the bone. The Osmanthus relied entirely on the Yin energy from the ancient corpses to grow, its branches nearly drooping to the ground.

Under the canopy, mist swirled like an illusion. Circling the Osmanthus tree were four pavilion structures, identical in size and design, all two-story buildings with upturned eaves, tiled roofs, exquisite windows, and archways. Seen from beneath the tree, it induced a feeling of washing away worldly desires, possessing an air of transcendence, unlike the realm of mortals.

But there was not the slightest glimmer of light within the buildings; the entire complex was pitch black, down to the roof tiles and window frames, which were an inky black. This seemingly immortal scenery coexisted with the eerie atmosphere of the old Osmanthus tree, creating a jarring, discordant contrast. The bandits looked around the base of the tree, feeling they had stepped into danger, their bodies tense with apprehension. Without waiting for Chen Xiazi's order, they instinctively formed a defensive circle, backs to each other, to guard against any sudden mishaps.

Having been startled by the traps and ambushes within Bottle Mountain, Chen Xiazi and his men were like startled birds. Seeing the finely carved railings and jade masonry outside the four pavilions beneath the tree, they grew tense, slowly approaching with their rattan shields. Up close, the exquisite pavilions remained as black as spilled ink, utterly devoid of color, and with no lamps in the cavern, the four structures seemed to melt into the darkness.

Partridge Whistle, emboldened by his courage and protected by his armor, took a lantern and his mirror-cased pistol, stepped away from the bandits, and went to inspect one of the pavilions. But the pavilion was a mass of blackness; even illuminated by the lamp, he could not see clearly, only discerning the hazy, indistinct outline of a structure through the mist. He tapped the black structure with his German-made pistol, and there was an immediate clank, as if striking a sheet of iron. Chen Xiazi called out from behind in surprise, "Are these pavilions cast entirely from raw iron?"

Partridge Whistle nodded; it was indeed entirely iron, no wonder there was no color of azure tiles or vermilion doors. He had never seen such bizarre iron towers. The iron doors and windows were intricately crafted, all featuring openwork designs, functioning just like ordinary pavilions—doors and windows could open, and there were rooms inside. However, since the entire structure was cast from raw iron, it was exceptionally sturdy and solid. From the outside, they couldn't see what was inside. There must be mechanisms locking the exterior, but since they didn't know the location of the release switch, they dared not enter hastily and turned to confer with Chen Xiazi.

A thought flashed through Chen Xiazi's mind, and he declared, "Iron towers are certainly not for habitation. Given this formidable bronze wall and iron shell, locked so tightly, they must be concealing rare and precious goods inside." The Xie Ling grave robbers were here for wealth; finding these treasure towers was like an old cat stumbling upon a fat mouse—how could they not be tempted?

He immediately issued orders, assigning a group of bandits—all sturdy men renowned for their dismantling and breaking skills—to use the method of prying, sawing, chiseling, and splitting. Although they had many hands, because they couldn't find the iron tower's mechanisms, they had to exert tremendous effort just to force the iron door open. Hidden in the four eaves of the towers were concealed crossbows and similar hidden weapons, but they were all rusted and non-functional, causing no significant trouble for the bandits.

Seeing that the iron towers were equipped with crossbow defenses, the group became even more certain that treasures lay within. Amidst the grating sound of rust, they pushed the iron door open. The bandits proceeded with increased caution, sending two men in first to check for further traps before ten or so followed, carrying horse lanterns to search for the hidden treasures of the Elixir Palace.

Partridge Whistle's curiosity was piqued. He asked Chen Xiazi to wait outside for support while he, carrying his gun, followed a group of bandits into the iron tower. Looking up and around, he saw that the ground floor just inside the entrance was the main hall; even the floor inside was paved with raw iron. Inside the hall stood a statue of a bare-footed jade figure, presumably the Medicine King of the Daoist Immortals. The statue was not large, perhaps only two feet high, yet it was exquisitely luminous all over. Immediately, several men stepped forward and carefully moved the jade statue of the Medicine Immortal from its pedestal, placing it into a leather satchel.

Partridge Whistle observed this and realized the iron tower was a Medicine King Pavilion. The place where the Elixir Palace stored elixirs was also called a Dew Pavilion, and the Dew Pavilion certainly held extremely precious medicinal materials. The great Osmanthus tree at the well's bottom must have been there to absorb the Yin energy, thereby preventing the pills, powders, and salves in the Dew Pavilion from spoiling. He continued looking as he moved, touring several narrow iron rooms behind the main hall.

The rear rooms were filled with porcelain bottles and jade jars used for storing medicine; some were sealed very tightly, and the medicinal properties of the included Ganoderma and flesh fungi remained intact. Among them, one jade casket was most conspicuous, adorned with painted lacquer depicting auspicious motifs of pine, crane, and immortal herbs. Partridge Whistle lifted the lid and saw that the casket was divided into several compartments, each bearing a small gold plaque. Within each compartment lay medicinal stones of various shapes.

Partridge Whistle examined them closely under the lamp. He saw inscriptions on the gold plaques such as "Lion's Claw," "Spider Treasure," "Snake Eye," "Dog Treasure," and "Blue Treasure"—all referring to the inner cores and concretions of various spiritual substances. These were rare medicinal ingredients only found in the Imperial Palace. Even the smallest item, the "Spider Treasure," was the size of a walnut, shaped like a black pill—all rare and singular divine medicines.

Most of the bandits were knowledgeable enough to recognize quality. The containers alone were extremely expensive and ornate, and the pills and stones inside were invaluable. At this, they were all overjoyed, taking whatever they saw without ceremony. As they ascended the iron staircase to the second floor, the mist grew gradually thicker. The iron walls were dark again, and under the dim yellow lamplight, nothing could be seen clearly.

Partridge Whistle shouldered his gun and led the way, holding a lantern. Upon reaching the second floor, he lifted his foot and pushed aside the iron door, suddenly seeing a heavily made-up woman standing in the room. The figure stood facing the interior, completely motionless in the dark iron room. Her silhouette suggested a living person, yet he could not sense any vitality emanating from her.

What use were the eyes of Partridge Whistle, the tomb robber, if he couldn't discern the truth? As the lamplight flickered, he clearly saw that the woman was dressed in Han Chinese attire from the Ming Dynasty. She wore wooden-soled embroidered shoes and a Shuitianfu (water-paddy field dress) pieced together from four types of fragmented brocade; its style was somewhat similar to a monk's kasaya, over which she wore a Biji’a (sleeveless vest)—this was indeed the fashionable Shuitianfu worn by Ming women.

From the Ming Dynasty onward, all classes—scholars, farmers, artisans, soldiers, and commoners—were forbidden from wearing "Hu" (non-Han) clothing. The Ming Emperor decreed that "attire and hats shall follow the model of the Tang Dynasty," largely restoring the Han Chinese system of dress. Therefore, the Ming Dynasty retained the broad-lapel, right-overlapping collar or round-collar garments that had existed since the Shang and Zhou dynasties. Ming women often wore Xiapei (ceremonial scarves), Biji’a, and Beizi (waistcoats). There were also very strict requirements for clothing colors, limited to pale shades like purple, green, and rose, with no use of any vibrant, intense colors allowed.

Partridge Whistle had robbed no fewer than ten Ming Dynasty tombs and naturally recognized the era of the clothing, filling him with astonishment and suspicion. This iron tower, sealed since the Yuan Dynasty, was tightly locked like an iron cage, presumably too small even for a rat to squeeze through. How could a Ming Dynasty woman appear here? Did she possess the art of bone-shrinking or transfiguration to enter?

Partridge Whistle led the bandits upstairs. The woman remained standing with only her back visible, seemingly oblivious to all movement, as if she were made of wood or clay. Wisps of mist drifted in through the dark iron windows, making the hazy figure look like a phantom apparition from a ghost market.

The bandits crowded at the doorway, frozen in shock. They had robbed so many tombs and finally encountered a fierce ghost. No matter how fearless they were when digging up graves, they were terrified when faced with something truly uncanny. The thought of a real ghost made their legs feel weak, and they wanted to flee down the stairs, but their limbs seemed frozen, as if filled with lead, nailed to the spot.

Partridge Whistle ignored the reactions of the others and stepped forward with his lamp, suddenly shouting, "Are you person or ghost?" As he spoke, he reached around from behind to pat the shoulder of the woman in Ming attire. To his surprise, where his hand made contact, there was only empty space.