Chen Shāzi had made up his mind, yet he observed that the leaders of the Xie Ling gang and the contingent of engineers were utterly exhausted. Many among them, particularly the opium smokers, were suffering from severe withdrawal, leaving them entirely weak-kneed, and the location of the Yuan Dynasty tomb remained a mystery, making it difficult for them to even lift their feet.

Chen Shāzi had no choice but to rally the men: “Brothers, according to the customs of our Changsheng Mountain, every major tomb unearthed guarantees a significant bounty. Today is a most auspicious day for grave robbing. Though we have faced setbacks along the way, costing over a hundred brothers their lives at Pingshan, they were all resolute sons of heroes, our sworn brothers. They surely have ascended to the heavenly realm now, blessing us with unending fortune. We cannot meet them again in this life, but in the next, we shall resume the brotherhood sworn under the peach garden…”

Chen Shāzi first impressed upon them the concepts of "profit and righteousness." He then reminded the bandits that before entering the mountain, they had all sworn a great oath: never to return from Pingshan without plundering it empty. Although outlaws in the lùlín might not fear deities, they placed immense importance on oaths and vows; violating such a pact was deemed "breaking the great curse" and brought universal scorn. History offered stark evidence: Emperor Wu of Liang did not trust curses and starved to death at Taicheng without anyone to care for him; General Luo Cheng of the Silver Spear in the Sui and Tang dynasties, due to his disbelief in oaths, died young at thirty-two; Song Gongming of the Liangshan Marsh ultimately lost his life to a poisoned flask of wine.

With the prospect of "profit" foremost in their minds, and willing to uphold "righteousness," the bandits mustered their strength, eagerly volunteering to move forward under the command of the Duǒbàzi. This time, even if it meant bleeding out, they would not allow the spirit of Changsheng Mountain to diminish; they were determined to see the mission through to the end. As for the engineers who did not belong to the Xie Ling clan, though they desperately wished to retreat, under the stern watch of these brigands, they had no choice but to steel themselves and push on.

Treading across the ruins of the scorched rear halls, they thoroughly scoured the vicinity until they finally arrived at the largest fissure in Pingshan. This massive rift, seemingly cleaved by a knife or axe, originated precisely at the mountain's "shoulder." Due to the mountain’s tilt, the split ran diagonally downward, plunging into the front section of the "bottle's belly." The opening was broad at the top and narrow below, with turbulent mist swirling in its depths and ancient pines growing upside down. Looking down from above induced dizziness and numb legs; looking up revealed sheer cliffs towering into the sky, revealing only a thin strip of heaven, suggesting that a strong gust of mountain wind could easily shear off the overhanging rock near the "neck" of the bottle. This ancient, bottle-shaped fissure had been poised in a state of near-collapse for countless ages. Beneath the tilted, suspended rock mass lay a valley choked with overlapping peaks and ravines; viewed from any angle, the topography of Pingshan was treacherous to the extreme.

Chen Shāzi surveyed the base of the fissure for a long time. The mountaintop loomed like a colossal stone weighing millions of jūn. Though narrow, the steep rock walls on either side were immensely wide. The deepest sections were filled with rainwater accumulated within the mountain structure. Moving sideways was impossible without using the Centipede Climbing Ladders (Wúgōng Guà Shān Tī) to scale the sheer cliffs. He summoned the guide closer and ordered him to point out the direction, asking exactly where the herb gatherers usually descended into the gorge and where they harvested their materials.

Although Miaozi had never actually climbed Pingshan, he was a local, and through hearsay and observation, he possessed at least a general understanding, far more detailed than any outsider. He pointed toward the rock face, tracing directions in the air.

Pingshan was renowned for its strange flowers, rare herbs, and various medicinal treasures. Local mountain folk and the Dongyi tribe often relied on gathering these for a living. If they could find Solomon's Seal (Huángjīng) or Purple Ginseng (Zǐshēn) on the mountain, they could sell them to medicine merchants or peddle them themselves in the city. The most valuable items on this mountain were He Shou Wu, Lingzhi, and the Nine-Dragon Coil (Jiǔlóngpán); the misfortune was that these grew deep within the crevices and gaps of the sheer cliffs.

These rock crevices were normally filled with bluestone, but occasionally, soil would fall from above, accumulating over years to fill the fine cracks. With the moisture and mist rising from the deep ravine, many potent medicines would sprout. Thus, the local mountain people called this massive fissure at the peak of Pingshan the Medicine Wall (Yàobì). However, legend claimed that ancient, sentient zombies hid within the Medicine Wall. Anyone venturing in to gather herbs risked losing their life to venomous mountain creatures, even if they avoided the Corpse King. Furthermore, Pingshan was perpetually shrouded in medicinal vapors, concealing many malevolent entities, such as the Old Lady Bai (Bái Lǎotàitai). Few dared to enter casually. Those who did, driven by recklessness or greed, usually entered but never returned.

Within the Medicine Wall, there was a section called the Pearl Umbrella (Zhēnzhū Sǎn). Many uneven rock veins jutted out from the wall, resembling stalactites in texture, like agate in appearance, and shaped like umbrella-crowned pearls—hence the name. But the Pearl Rock was neither grey nor white; it was crimson, like blood, or perhaps like Chicken Blood Stone. The most precious Nine-Dragon Coil grew here.

Once, a Dongyi man skilled in climbing, whose family had been expert herb gatherers for eight generations, risked his life descending the sheer cliff to search for the Nine-Dragon Coil to cure his wife’s illness. Knowing the properties of the herbs, he carried substances to ward off centipedes and venomous pythons. He finally found the Pearl Umbrella, but just as he was about to harvest, a tall zombie in purple robes and a golden sash crawled out of the mountain crevice. The ancient corpse had achieved sentience; it inhaled and exhaled purple energy, extending a large, white-furred hand to grab him. The herb gatherer’s soul scattered in terror; the Nine-Dragon Coil was forgotten. Relying on agility unmatched even by apes, he scrambled up vines and through the clouds, fleeing back to the mountaintop like a flash of lightning. He fell gravely ill afterward and died within two days.

According to that man’s description, the area of the Pearl Umbrella lay on the shaded side of this immense fissure. Hearing this, Chen Shāzi’s mind began to work. Such rumors could neither be wholly believed nor entirely dismissed. Even if they failed to locate the entrance to the ancient tomb, they must, at the very least, harvest the Nine-Dragon Coil growing on the Pearl Umbrella. He then sought's opinion.

observed the sheer ancient walls but believed that with the Centipede Climbing Ladders, they could traverse the dangers safely. Whether there was a tomb passage or entrance near the Pearl Umbrella could only be known upon personal inspection. He immediately agreed. They selected over thirty thieves skilled in scaling walls and scaling roofs. Each carried two roosters in a bamboo basket; should they encounter a powerful, sentient corpse demon, the crowing of the roosters might serve as a deterrent. They also brought two sets of bamboo ladders for climbing. The remaining engineers were ordered to retreat the way they came to assist their comrades in moving artifacts like the glazed lamps from the Dāngōng.

The very bottom of the Pingshan fissure collected a great deal of rainwater, upon which grew a thick layer of duckweed, making the air heavily damp. Water constantly beaded on the rock walls, and because the base of the rift was narrow, getting trapped there meant being stuck between advancing and retreating. The bandits had to hook the bamboo ladders onto the rock seams, traversing the void high above the perilous stone walls.

The group unfolded dozens of Centipede Climbing Ladders, utilizing every technique they knew—joining, connecting, swinging, and hanging—maintaining deep concentration as they clung to the sheer cliff face. Moving along the rock seam, they noticed that between the steep walls, they had entered a zone of lush greenery. After advancing several wǔ (paces), the rock face near the bottle's opening indeed resembled a wall of pearls. The rock color deepened gradually. All around them hung purple wisteria dangling into the deep ravine, the vines covered in strange flowers and rare blooms, while the soil in the rock gaps was choked with weeds.

This spot was near the dead end on the shaded side of the mountain’s shoulder. On this Medicine Wall, which never saw sunlight, the abundance of bizarre, unnamed plants was growing increasingly unusual. Chen Shāzi and were both masters of the art of grave robbing and seeking treasure, skilled in interpreting soil traces and distinguishing the colors of vegetation. By observing the flora on a burial mound, they could confirm the age, identity, and sex of the remains buried beneath, regardless of how ancient the tomb was. The growth of plants near a grave invariably exhibited anomalies. The state of plant growth over a tomb is colloquially known as the "Tomb Pulse" (Fénmài). The interpretation of this pulse’s ebb and flow is derived from ancient Língpǔ (Tomb Manuals); if explained in detail, it would be no less complex than the Feng Shui secrets practiced by the Mojin School.

For instance, a certain unmarked, ownerless grave was covered only in overgrown weeds. But to someone versed in the "Tomb Pulse," these simple wild grasses contained volumes of information, such as: "Green grass on the mound means a youth lies in the coffin," and, "Grass on the mound, growing raggedly, means the person beneath died of illness."

This implied that if the grass on the mound was lush and tender, the person buried inside must have died young; if the grass was disorderly and withered yellow, appearing lifeless, the deceased likely died from sickness. Conversely, near the tombs of brave warriors, one often found vigorous pines and tough grass... These examples were endless. The term "mound" was used broadly; any earthen area with grass on a grave mound or hill grave belonged to the Tomb Pulse, and the larger the tomb structure beneath the soil, the wider the scope of the Tomb Pulse. However, in this world, only tomb robbers who had mastered the "Wang" (Gazing) technique could distinguish these differences.

The bandits clung to the Centipede Climbing Ladders, holding their lamps close to examine the vegetation growing on the Medicine Wall. looked left and right; the pine branches and wisteria were dense and gnarled, clearly indicative of the Tomb Pulse belonging to a high-ranking military official. He then pointed to a large cluster of golden flowers on a vine and announced to the group: “This is Cat's Eye (Māo’éryǎn). It only grows near graves; there must be a burial chamber on the mountaintop.”

Chen Shāzi saw that the strange flowers indeed resembled cat’s eyes, thriving by absorbing the condensed Yin energy from the ancient tomb. The flowers and grass exuded a faint, murderous aura. It seemed that although the Yuan tomb was deeply hidden, it was not entirely without clues. He scrutinized the traces of the grass, then lifted his nose to inhale the atmosphere of the Medicine Wall. Although the "Wen" (Smelling) technique for scenting the earth involves the word "earth," no one actually crawled on the ground inch by inch like a dog to sniff. This technique had to be learned from childhood, requiring lifelong abstinence from tobacco, alcohol, and spicy foods. Moreover, it wasn't just about sniffing the soil; deep mountains and remote ravines often carried strange fragrances, which Chen Shāzi could use through the mountain-smelling method to locate a hidden chamber.

There were three main types of fragrances common in these deep gorges and ravines. Mountains without any scent were barren. This technique could only be employed in specific terrains, such as those with opposing walls where mountain air condensed deeply. The most potent scent came from toxic miasma and deadly fumes. The more toxic the miasma, the stronger the fragrance, but the scent of poisonous fumes carried an earthy undertone—an "earth scent"—making it easy to identify.

There was also the fragrance of medicinal herbs, wild flowers, and the essence of mountain plants. Their scents were nebulous and intoxicating, invigorating the spirit upon inhalation. The strangest aroma, however, was that emanating from ancient tombs, a composite scent formed by the mercury in the grave soil, the coffin wood, funerary objects, the corpse, and the slaked lime used for preservation. Inside the tomb chamber, the air would certainly feel cold and foul, but outside, mixed with the scent of the Tomb Pulse vegetation, it smelled like an elusive wisp of subtle fragrance, appearing and disappearing fleetingly, always just out of reach. The closer one approached the tomb, the stronger this cold, subtle fragrance grew. It also contained a peculiar, yet not unpleasant, fishy odor.

Chen Shāzi took a deep breath, detecting a strong, pungent scent within the cold fragrance of this Pearl Umbrella area, which deepened into a rich, indescribable fishiness the further inside he smelled. A single whiff sent a bone-chilling cold through him, confirming his suspicion that a tomb lay hidden within the rock. This area was secluded on the mountain’s shady side, difficult to find unless specifically sought out. He saw that the Medicine Wall was densely covered in ancient purple wisteria and pines, likely obscuring the tomb entrance. He signaled the bandits to stretch the Centipede Climbing Ladders across the gorge to form a makeshift bamboo bridge.

Seeing the traces of the ancient tomb, the group became intensely focused. They erected the bamboo bridge on the Medicine Wall, stepping cautiously as they traversed the swaying bamboo ladders through the clouds. Some clung to old vines, while others used additional Centipede Climbing Ladders hooked into the rock seams, suspending themselves mid-air. Then, they drew out their knives and axes to chop away the vegetation covering the Pearl Umbrella.

The severed wisteria, flowers, and pine branches rained down into the depths of the fissure. Soon, a large portion of the recessed Chicken Blood Rock was exposed. Several large cracks split the rock face. The largest was wide enough to shelter an ox, leading into a black, unfathomable depth. In the smaller crevices grew several stalks of Nine-Dragon Coil, their scales vividly colored.

Chen Shāzi and the others were inwardly delighted; the legend of the Miao people gathering herbs on the Medicine Wall’s Pearl Umbrella was indeed true. The Nine-Dragon Coil grown on the sunny side of the mountain was worthless, suitable only for dispelling wind and detoxifying. Only in the perpetually dark, secluded ravines did this variety—the one with plump, scaled leaves, also known as the Nine Ghost Coil (Jiǔguǐpán)—grow, each stalk valued at a thousand pieces of gold for its miraculous life-preserving properties.

The bandits temporarily forgot about the ancient tomb. Those nearby immediately reached out to harvest the herbs, carefully digging them up by the root. If a Nine Ghost Coil lost even a single tendril or half a scale, its quality would be ruined, rendering it worthless.

, however, paid the valuable plant no mind. He leaped from the bamboo ladder into the large crack within the Chicken Blood Rock. Reaching out to touch the stone wall, his fingertips immediately registered a bone-chilling cold—the unmistakable coldness associated with ancient tombs. Raising his lantern, he illuminated the way forward. At the limit of the light, he vaguely saw a human silhouette. Taking half a step further, the image became clear: standing motionless in the mountain gap was the tall body of a male corpse. The ancient corpse hung its head and let its arms drop; its face was obscured. Its body was covered in accumulated dust. Judging by the thickness of this layer of grime, the deceased had been standing alone in this mountain gap for many years, completely immobile. Yet, it was still discernible that the corpse wore armor and helmet, clearly the battle dress of ancient military attire.

often worked alone and, being highly skilled and brave, grew impatient waiting for the rest of the gang to painstakingly search inch by inch. He thought, Why not investigate this first? Without waiting for Chen Shāzi and the others to follow, he held his lantern high, drew the German-made Box-Mirror Pistol tucked at his waist, and used the muzzle to nudge the ancient corpse's head, wanting to see the features of this Yuan Dynasty corpse. However, before the German-made pistol could touch the fully armored ancient corpse, a gust of Yin wind rose within the cave, and the zombie suddenly shook off its thick layer of dust and lunged forward to attack.