I leaned against the mountain crag, my mind turning over and over the meaning of "Mountain within the Earth," sensing that this omen belonged to the Qian hexagram, suggesting a strategy of "using stillness to counter motion, and maintaining a humble and receptive spirit." It seemed I needed to lie low for a time, waiting for the right moment to emerge.

Eventually, fatigue set in. For years, I had slept with one eye open, but today, I don't know what happened; my eyelids fought a losing battle, and the moment I closed them, I couldn't force them open again. In my sleep, a vague thought flashed through my mind—how could we all sleep soundly in the sinister necropolis of "Coffin Gorge"?

I snapped awake instantly. The temperature variation between day and night in the mountains is extreme, and the night air felt cold as water. Deep in the bottom of this gorge, no moonlight penetrated; everything was a suffocating black. I realized I had slept for quite a while. I shook my head vigorously to clear the fog, and as my eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, I sensed that something was subtly wrong with my surroundings. Looking closely, a miraculous sight unfolded before me: the great door I had painted on the sheer cliff face with the "Mountain-Viewing Divine Brush" was silently, slowly swinging open.

The dried waterfall rock face soared a hundred meters high; even in the pitch black of night, it presented a vast, indistinct stretch of pale rock strata. I suddenly saw that the door painted on that rock face was clearly ajar, revealing the mouth of a pitch-black cave.

At first, I was both startled and astonished, wondering if I was still dreaming or if the darkness was playing tricks on my eyes. I rubbed my eyes hard and stared intently again. The dark opening of the cave seemed to be subtly pulsating. Furthermore, I immediately noticed a strange, faint vibration in the air.

Not daring to be careless, I hurriedly shook Shirley Yang and the others awake. Seeing the anomaly on the cliff face, they were all deeply amazed. Unsure of what was happening, no one dared to make a rash move, settling back into place, watching the situation intently.

Then, we began to hear a buzzing sound of beating wings emanating from the thickets at the bottom of the gorge. The humming gradually intensified. A thought struck me; the sound was familiar—it must be some kind of swarm of flying insects, but it didn't resemble the Mao Xian Cao Gui (Mao Immortal Grass Ghosts) of the gorge.

Just then, Professor Sun blurted out, "Stinging bees! The door painted on the rock face with the brush is all stinging bees..." As soon as the words left his mouth, he clamped a hand over his own mouth, terrified that his voice might alarm the wild bees in the mountains.

I, too, had perceived a hint of the truth. Swarms of wild bees were pouring in from all directions. It seemed the ink left by the "Mountain-Viewing Divine Brush" contained some kind of pheromone or drug that attracted the bees, causing them to leave their hives. Most wild bees in the mountains were Hu Feng (wasps), and a sting from them was no joke. However, Fatty and I had poked countless hornet nests before, so we were intimately familiar with the habits of wild bees. Though I found the technique of painting a door with the Divine Brush bizarre, I wasn't panicked by the appearance of large bee swarms in the gorge.

Seeing Professor Sun getting anxious, I lowered my voice and told him, "Don't worry. Wild bees won't attack unrelated people unless their hive is threatened. As long as we stay put, we should be relatively safe."

Professor Sun was somewhat reassured, but he had been stung by wild mountain bees while collecting artifacts in the countryside years ago. Seeing countless bees gathering around them, surging in a great mass that looked like shifting clouds and mist—a magnificent sight—and hearing the drumming buzz of their wings in the woods, he vividly remembered their power. Once bitten by a snake, one fears a well rope for ten years. He truly believed that even the bears, lions, and tigers of the mountains were less terrifying than such a massive swarm of bees.

Now, faced with the black tide of bees descending upon them, Old Man Sun's heart naturally trembled, a chill running down his spine. He squeezed his eyes shut and plugged his ears, trying not to hear the "bzzz-bzzz-bzzz" sound of the swarm. Yet, the sound persisted, as if thick, powerful wasps were drilling directly into his skull, his expression growing increasingly grim.

I never imagined the ink marks could possess such power, driving large swarms of wild bees, heedless of the late hour, to pour in continuously. If the bees suddenly panicked and attacked us, trapped as we were in the gorge, we would have nowhere to flee. A sense of mortal peril crept over me. I cursed Feng Shigu, the head of the Guanshan Taibao, for tricking me into using medicated ink to summon a swarm. What the hell was he planning?

Shirley Yang whispered close to my ear, "Old Hu, this looks more like the sorcery of the Ban Shan faction. We must not act rashly; waiting and observing is the best strategy."

I nodded and signaled to Fatty, who was about to bolt toward the river, telling everyone not to rush to escape yet, but to bravely hold their ground and see what happened.

Not long after, the wild bees seemed intoxicated by the scent left by the "Mountain-Viewing Divine Brush" ink. They began secreting wax near a large, horizontal tree branch adjacent to the cliff face, constructing several hives.

The wild bees gathering from various directions did not seem to belong to the same colony. Some hairy bees used soil and stone to build their nests, while others built their colonies on the walls of the Hu Hu Feng (wasp) nests. However, the black-tailed, black-headed Hu Hu Feng were the most numerous, vastly outnumbering the other swarms, and they were master builders. They expanded their hive steadily, gradually merging several large nests into one massive structure, enveloping the surrounding smaller hives.

In about an hour, the hive spanned two or three meters square. Dense layers of pupae crawled in and out, churning restlessly upon it. The large branch supporting it was bent so low it almost scraped the ground.

The more we watched, the stranger it seemed. Suddenly, a white light flickered on the cliff face. The painted door on the rock strata was changing as the wild bees crawled and rubbed against it. The pitch-black ink developed an ethereal, flickering luminescence, appearing in the night like a cluster of sinister white ghost fires.

The Hu Hu Feng clustered in the enormous hive seemed startled by the ghost fire on the rock face. They poured out of the nest, swirling chaotically in the air around the hive.

The realization dawned on me: the ink marks on the rock, over time, had begun to glow faintly at night, creating the illusion of rising flames and burning fire. This tricked the large swarm in the nest, making them think a fire threatened their home, causing them to lose formation and flee the nest.

We forced down our rising fear. Although we knew the Guanshan Taibao were adept at esoteric arts—their mastery of Yin-Yang geomancy was no less than the Mo Jin Xiaowei (Grave Robbers)—and their command over strange arts of mutual creation and destruction was likely superior to the Ban Shan Daoren (Mountain Movers), we couldn't decipher the mechanism immediately. We had no choice but to steel ourselves and continue watching.

What happened next was even more astonishing. After exiting the nest, the swarm quickly recovered order from the chaos. Though small, they apparently had their own hierarchy and laws; there was no sign of them scattering or fleeing. Instead, to prevent the fire from destroying their hive, they massed together and flew over the nest, secreting fluid onto it. The term "bee urine" is used by sorcerers, but it isn't actual urine; it is a type of secretion produced by wild bees—transparent and odorless. One Hu Hu Feng can secrete at most a tear-sized drop of this "bee urine," and this secretion only occurs when the hive is thought to be on fire.

Tens of thousands of bees scrambled, quickly soaking the entire hive with "bee urine." Within moments, the hive was saturated, and the fluid began dripping onto the bluestone slabs directly below.

Upon contact with the stone, the "bee urine" reacted like foul, corrosive iron. The surface of the bluestone beneath was silently eaten away, forming a pit several feet in diameter in an instant. As more fluid dripped down, it pierced the earth under the hive, rapidly creating a very deep chasm.

Seeing this, I finally grasped the whole scheme: this was the method for "painting a door on the ground." The entrance to the Earth Immortal Village ancient tomb wasn't at the dry waterfall, but under the old tree opposite. At this juncture, I couldn't help but admire the bizarre and uncanny skill of the "Guanshan Taibao." I also recalled that the Ban Shan Fen Jia (Mountain Mover First Class) techniques contained similar records.

Wild Hu Hu Feng in the deep mountains are naturally non-venomous and possess the power to pierce earth and stone. However, their secretion cannot be preserved once dripped from the hive, so this hole could only be drilled straight up and down. Moreover, if mixed with wild onion juice, it could create a witch's poison. If smeared on an arrow tip and used to stab a Li Zi (wildcat), the cat would die after taking one step. If that same arrow were then used to shoot a bear, the bear would also die after taking one step. If the wildcat took two steps before dying, the bear would likewise die after two steps. The underlying principle is esoteric and beyond the comprehension of outsiders. These local shamanistic arts have long been lost, with only the "Bee Urine Piercing the Mountain" method surviving in tomb raiding lore.

Thinking of this, a wave of melancholy washed over me. Most of the wondrous and secret arts I had encountered in my life were now lost. All sorts of tomb-raiding secrets were waning, and the transmitted knowledge grew scarcer. It wouldn't be many years before they, too, vanished completely. Just like the ancient tombs we entered, ancient people preferred to take their secrets and wealth with them when they died, rotting to dust underground rather than leaving anything behind for unrelated worldlings.

As the hole in the rock deepened without revealing a bottom, doubts began to surface in our minds. We truly didn't know how deep the ancient tomb was buried, nor what sights awaited us in the Earth Immortal Village.

Professor Sun finally recovered his composure. Seeing the silvery-white rock strata beneath the greenish soil, he became intensely agitated, stammering, "It must be the Earth Immortal Village ancient tomb... that shimmering white stratum is dead silver. This is the Iron Wall Silver Screen!"

It is said that silver, left undisturbed for years, decays into silver mud, known to common folk as "dead silver." Once weathered, this decayed silver mud hardens like iron; even a blacksmith's hammer can only leave a white mark. If the "Silver Screen" served as the tomb's barrier, it would be far sturdier than a wall of rammed earth.

Furthermore, the silver screen is thick, making it hard for sound to propagate. Even those with sharp hearing couldn't use techniques like Ting Feng Ting Lei (Listening to Wind and Thunder) to locate the tomb underground. Dead silver has another marvelous property: if there are insects like silver-gathering ants nearby, and the silver layer suffers damage, it can self-regenerate and seal the breach through the insects' activity. This meant the tomb entrance would only appear temporarily before the Silver Screen iron wall closed again, covered once more by earth and vegetation. Those who didn't know the precise location would never find it.

This method originated from the "Golden Seed" technique, an ancient "curse" mastered only by the leaders of the ancient Golden Seed tribes. Very few knew it, and due to intense secrecy, it had been lost for centuries; no one in the world practiced this art anymore. However, scholars of esoteric arts knew that several hundred years ago, such a mysterious set of "talismans and spells" existed. The "sorcery" used by the Golden Seeds, also called "Dharma Arts," actually meant "method"—the method of using the art—encompassing talismans, incantations, sigils, hexagram songs, props, and secret formulas. Every Golden Seed faction had a leader, deemed the "Golden Head," who alone mastered the ancient and mysterious Dharma Art known as the "Gold-Cramming Spell."

Gold and silver treasures buried deep underground would eventually generate spirit energy over time. This ancient counter-spell was specifically designed to force the "Gold Soul and Silver Spirit" out of the earth. By capturing it with a needle, one could follow the thread to locate the underground treasure. But without the "Gold Head's" curse to restore the spirits of the gold and silver, all excavated treasure would rot like black mud or rotten wood, becoming worthless—what the locals called "gold and silver filth." However, the physical property of "dead silver" was exceptional rigidity; an axe or hammer could only leave a white mark, hence the term Silver Screen Iron Wall.

Nonetheless, large amounts of "dead silver" required years of accumulation to form a Silver Screen Iron Wall and were rarely found in tombs. Since legends of such a barrier existed around the "Earth Immortal Village Ancient Tomb," Professor Sun immediately concluded that beneath this Silver Corpse rock layer must be the entrance to that tomb. No one, however, had anticipated that the entrance would reveal itself in such a manner.

The ghostly fire at the former course of the dry waterfall gradually dimmed. The swarms continued to drip "bee urine" relentlessly. Suddenly, a loud cracking sound of subterranean brick and stone erupted, and a plume of white smoke shot straight up from the chasm, violently blasting the massive hive on the tree branch into the air. The hive fractured into several pieces; some fell into the woods, others struck the cliff face. The wild Hu Hu Feng were either killed or injured by the white smoke surging from the pit. A large patch of dead bees littered the ground. The rest, seeing their nest destroyed, scattered like startled birds and fled completely.

We were hiding under nearby rocks, watching the commotion. Suddenly, white smoke erupted from the pit, followed by a shower of dead bees raining down—countless corpses clattering onto our heads and bodies—and a thick white mist immediately spread toward us.

Everyone hastily covered their mouths and noses and backed away, but we were a half-step too slow. It felt as if a handful of lime had been violently thrown in our faces—stinging and choking. Snot and tears immediately streamed down, accompanied by ringing ears, blurred vision, and incessant coughing. Fortunately, we were off to the side of the pit and not close enough to be directly enveloped by the white smoke erupting from the tomb. Even so, we felt nauseous and retched for quite a while. This eye-, mouth-, and nose-stinging white fog arrived quickly and vanished just as fast, dissipating without a trace. After shaking the dead bees off ourselves, we looked back at the old tree; only a bottomless abyss remained.

Fatty spat twice on the ground, peered cautiously into the pit, and cursed, "What's that smell? It's choking a living person to death! Comrades, we shouldn't underestimate the landlord class. These Guanshan Taibao are small temple, big monsters—shallow pond, many turtles. Judging by this, the tomb must be full of grave goods. Let's stop hesitating and just go raid it."

I went to look as well. The Iron Wall Silver Screen was deep; my "Wolf Eye Flashlight" couldn't reach the bottom. Professor Sun, donning a gas mask, was eager to descend, but I stopped him. "This time, we're getting serious. I can't let you go into the tomb and step on landmines! I'll go down first, and once the situation is clear, you all can follow."

I didn't allow for any argument; I would descend first to scout. If everything was clear, the whole group would enter together. I hadn't wanted to bring the young woman (Yao Mei'er) along into danger, but I needed her to disarm traps and ambushes in the tomb. Considering she had participated in militia training and was familiar with the standard "Simple Militia Communication Methods" of that era, besides being brave and careful, she also possessed military awareness. I decided to let her accompany me, but strictly ordered her to stay close to Shirley Yang and never be the first or the last person in the exploring party.

I told the others to finalize preparations, discarding anything unnecessary and putting on all available protective gear. We inventoried our equipment, distributing the lighting tools evenly among the five of us. With three gas masks plus spares, we had one left over for emergencies. The carrying bags for the masks were slung on our chests for immediate use.

After rushing preparations for over an hour, assuming the passageway inside had ventilated enough, I tossed down a cold flare. I saw the pit was about ten meters deep. I put on my gas mask, used the grappling hook to anchor myself, and lowered down using the "Steel Umbrella." The bee urine on the Silver Screen strata had dried, but the air was thick with impurities, severely limiting visibility underground.

I landed on solid ground and surveyed my surroundings in the flare's light. Beneath the thick silver layer was a natural cavern, not vast—about the size of four small houses. The rock walls converged at the far end, and the ground was carved with simple stone steps that wound tortuously into the deep darkness. The entire cavern was narrow, humid, and oppressive.

I took off my gloves and touched the tomb bricks on the wall. I felt icy drafts seeping from the rock fissures—perhaps there was airflow underground, or perhaps the Dragon Qi was swirling in the Feng Shui lines. Maybe we didn't need gas masks, but I dared not be complacent. I lit a candle in the passageway. Seeing the flame burn normally, I tore off my mask, blew my whistle, and signaled those above.

Hearing the whistle, Shirley Yang and the others descended one by one. Once steady, they looked around. Professor Sun observed the cave's topography and environment and said to me doubtfully, "Strange... this doesn't look like an ancient tomb."