Everyone nodded in agreement, not a single dissenting voice remaining. Initially, we were reluctant to use the Gui Xu Ancient Mirror to divine the tomb's location upon entering the Wushan Mountains. This was twofold: firstly, the Wushan range, in terms of Feng Shui, was known as a place where the 'dragon head was missing,' its ley lines crisscrossing in such a chaotic manner that finding the true spot for 'gathering wind and retaining water' was nigh impossible; the bronze mirror might well fail to pinpoint the ancient tomb's position. Secondly, the Hai Qi essence within the Gui Xu Bronze Mirror was almost entirely depleted, capable of perhaps only one or two more divinations. Furthermore, the visions conjured by the Zhu Zhao Jing often manifested as ancient trigram numbers—a language I was not confident enough to interpret and extrapolate into a clear hexagram reading. Thus, I steadfastly refused to use it lightly. Now, however, having reached the end of our rope, we had no choice but to turn to the long-lost supreme art of tomb raiding: the "Inquiry" character technique.

Having settled on the plan, just as we sought a foothold on the sheer cliff face to descend, we noticed the sky suddenly darkening under a heavy cloud cover. Ahead of us, a continuous whoosh, whoosh, whoosh signaled the passage of Golden Silk Swifts. Shirley Yang exclaimed, "Bad luck, the Golden Swifts are returning to their nests..."

Tens of thousands of Golden Silk Swifts, having gorged themselves on Cao Gui, wheeled back towards their caves with the wind. They plunged into the deep chasm in a black mass, making it seem as if a sudden downpour had struck the sky. Swifts continuously collided with us. Everyone cried out in alarm and scrambled for cover on the wooden beam to avoid the swarm.

The Golden Silk Swifts weren't intentionally striking us; it was simply their overwhelming numbers causing them to jostle and crowd one another in the narrow confines of the cliff face, leaving almost no room to maneuver. We shielded our faces and retreated toward the edge of the massive black beam to avoid the dense cluster of swifts. But in the hurried chaos, five of us stepped simultaneously onto the downward-sloping end of the beam. Although the black beam wedged between the deep valleys was strong enough to bear weight and didn't snap immediately, the rock face upon the cliff wall had become dislodged.

With a sharp crack, the cliff wall crumbled and rocks tumbled down. The great beam roared and rolled into the abyss. For a monkey, perhaps, this situation might allow for leaping and scrambling, but for mere mortals, it was a matter of fate. Beyond clinging desperately to the beam, the powerful inertia of the falling timber dragged our entire bodies along; we had no control whatsoever.

We closed our eyes, clinging tightly to the beam. The wind howled past our ears, the jolting threatening to shatter our bones. The timber, thick as several people embracing, tumbled downward, occasionally catching on the narrow sections between the opposing cliffs, which momentarily halted its descent. But the weight of the men dragged the end of the beam, causing it to shatter, shaking loose any remaining debris clinging to it. The massive beam became like a black wooden sled, whistling through the dark clouds and white mist, crashing and tumbling deeper into the gorge.

I lost all track of how far down I fell with the black beam; my consciousness seemed completely scrambled. I had no idea where the timber finally stopped. I only felt that we had somehow become wedged again between the narrow, sheer cliffs. It was entirely due to the beam's sturdiness and the extreme narrowness of the canyon that the compressed air slowed the velocity of the whistling descent; we didn't slam directly onto the valley floor, nor were we shaken clear off the beam.

At that moment, my vision turned black, only seeing dancing spots before my eyes. After a long while, my awareness gradually returned. I felt around—arms, legs, all the essential parts were still there. I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, the Jinsi Nanmu was dense and hard; an ordinary wooden beam would have been smashed to splinters.

I vigorously shook my head, forcing my vision to refocus, and looked around. I saw Shirley Yang and Yaomei’er, lighter of frame, seemingly unharmed. They knew where they had landed. Holding up a cold flare sputtering thick red smoke for light, they were busy bandaging Ninth Master Sun's bloodied face. Fatty lay on the beam, mouth agape, panting heavily. Seeing me wake, he gasped, "I say, Commander Hu, continuous tachycardia... that's hardly good for your health, this is simply life-threatening!"

I managed a weak grin for him, only then realizing my mouth was full of bloody foam. During the fall, I had nearly bitten my own tongue off. I spat out the clotted blood and asked Shirley Yang, "Is Ninth Master Sun still alive?"

Before Shirley Yang could answer, Professor Sun opened his eyes and declared, "How can I die here? If I don't retrieve the Dragon Bone Divination Chart from the ancient tomb in Xiancun, I won't die in peace! For years, I've held the honorary title of professor, enduring disdain and ostracism everywhere, yet failing to achieve anything substantial, forcing me to grit my teeth and endure day after day. Now that I have finally grasped this heaven-sent opportunity, even if I were to die... I must wait until I become an academic authority before I can rest."

I retorted, "Ninth Master, did you crack your head? Why are you going backward the older you get—only spouting such spineless nonsense? You endured the severe trials of the Cultural Revolution as an old intellectual; just because you haven't been promoted or utilized in recent years, why cling so obsessively to fleeting fame stoked by others?"

Professor Sun retorted stubbornly, "You youngsters can't understand my ambition. Once one becomes an authority, even their flatulence is considered fragrant; even nonsense is taken as truth. Otherwise, being of low standing means being constantly slighted and looked down upon. We lived the same number of years and most of us have similar seniority. In terms of work, I haven't lagged behind in the slightest. Why should I spend my entire life taking orders from fellows whose capabilities are far beneath mine, dictating to me?"

Hearing Professor Sun's outburst, Fatty couldn't help but mock him, "I think the organization was quite wise not to promote you. With your current mindset—yearning to pass gas and talk nonsense from a leadership position before even attaining it—if you actually became a leader, wouldn't you lead us all straight into the gutter?"

Professor Sun argued back, "What I said just now was out of anger. I just refuse to accept it! Why can't I become an authority, become a leader? They are even planning to make me retire... I'm hardly decrepit or infirm yet; I still have residual heat to contribute!"

Shirley Yang urged us to stop talking, warning that Professor Sun's head wound was reopened from the agitation.

At that moment, the pain in my shoulder wound burned to the bone. I pulled out another spare 'Wolf's Eye' flashlight from my satchel and illuminated my shoulder. The spot bitten by the locust had stopped bleeding, but the venomous creature’s head was still embedded in the flesh. I grabbed a strip of gauze, bit down on it, pulled open my shirt to examine the wound. I figured the head of that Mao Xian worm was still lodged inside. I had no choice but to let Shirley Yang use her Emei Thorn to extract the poison and bandage it.

Shirley Yang quickly tended to Professor Sun's wound, then sterilized the fine steel Emei Thorn. She asked me, holding the light steady, "I'm about to start, can you bear it?"

I clenched my jaw and replied, "It’s a minor issue; just don't hold back. Back when I..." I intended to give some extra instruction, but before I could finish, Shirley Yang had already skillfully used the slender blade of the Emei Thorn to flick out the Mao Xian head from my shoulder. Her movements were incredibly fast and precise; before I could even react to cry out in pain, the entire "surgery" was over.