As we ventured into the mountains, the stench of corpses almost choked us raw, yet at this point, the metallic scent of blood still hit us hard. Corpse-blood is foul and rank, utterly unlike normal fresh blood, and this immediately brought to mind the legendary Corpse Immortal of Coffin Mountain; was such a being buried within the tomb before us?

According to Old Man Sun, the Earth Immortal was Feng Shigu, a man who poured his heart and soul into constructing this Yin dwelling within Coffin Mountain, purely so that upon his death, he might attain the Dao and be refined into a Corpse Immortal. The concept of achieving immortality through the corpse after death has existed since antiquity: the remains of ascetics who die outside the conventional path are called yitui (remains). If the spirit and soul do not dissipate upon death but remain coalesced within the remains, enduring tribulations and refinement, one can transcend the cycle of reincarnation, moving from existence to non-existence, becoming eternal and connecting with the cosmos.

Thus, I strongly suspected that the tomb within the rear residence was very likely the burial site of the Earth Immortal, Feng Shigu. However, I absolutely refused to believe he had become any kind of immortal; at that moment, I was resolved to dig into the grave mound to see the truth for myself.

Shirley Yang cautioned, “Blood seeping from a tomb is an ominous sign, and corpse-blood is invariably toxic; we cannot risk digging it up rashly. The Guan Shan Zang Gu Lou (Ossuary Viewing Tower) guards the mausoleum and watches the graves; perhaps there are clues inside that can tell us what exactly is buried beneath. It won’t be too late to plan once we grasp the full situation.”

I realized Shirley Yang had a valid point, so I told Fatty and Yaomei to stay by the front of the building, lest the entire group enter the structure only to be wiped out in one go. Only Shirley Yang, Old Man Sun, and I would go inside.

The entrance to the three-story wooden tower was tightly sealed, the main door fastened by several heavy bronze locks—no way in. However, with the aid of the craftsmen from Honeycomb Mountain accompanying us, picking the locks and prying the doors open was effortless. I watched as Yaomei pulled a universal key from her treasured pouch, inserted it into the keyhole, fiddled a few times, and with a soft click, the latch sprang open.

Her proficiency stunned us into silence for quite a while. Fatty exclaimed, “Little Sister’s skills are far from obsolete! Even the most renowned ‘Buddha Masters’ in Jiucheng [Beijing] probably can’t match your finesse. Can you open a safe too?”

“Buddha Master” (Foye) is the local Beijing term for thieves and pickpockets. But the specialized artisans of Honeycomb Mountain had spent centuries studying various locking mechanisms and devices; picking locks was merely the most trivial of their skills. Yaomei had received genuine instruction, making her work naturally clean and swift. She didn’t understand what Fatty meant by Foye and mistook it for a compliment, becoming rather pleased with herself. After all, these almost-lost crafts were useless in a remote mountain town, just impractical "dragon-slaying techniques." She never imagined they might actually be needed.

It was Shirley Yang who, holding the Vajra Umbrella, gently pushed the door open and stepped into the Ossuary Viewing Tower, with Old Man Sun following closely behind her, one after the other.

I instructed Fatty to guard the outside carefully, making sure not to cut off our retreat. Fatty shot back, “Are you trying to provoke me, Old Hu? Do you really need to instruct someone as responsible as me? When have I ever let you down? I must also warn you: if you see any burial artifacts inside, don’t be polite to that Old Ninth Sun. That old rascal owes us, so if there are good things, just pocket them. Finding the Golden Elixir is the main business, but whether we chase one sheep or two, we shouldn’t let it delay us.”

Hearing Fatty utter the words "Golden Elixir," my heart lurched heavily. Given the bizarre circumstances in Coffin Mountain, I feared this time we wouldn't even be able to chase one sheep. I cursed Professor Sun silently for his masterful deception. Perhaps it was because of his solitary nature, rarely interacting with others, that his pretense was more convincing than the genuine article. I, who usually outsmarted everyone, had been fooled by him. The probability of finding a thousand-year-old Corpse Elixir in the Earth Immortal Village tomb had plummeted to near zero. Accidentally entering Coffin Mountain now meant we were caught in a disaster that shouldn't have involved us, and Old Man Sun was dragging us deeper into the mire, making it impossible to pull free.

Though I would never admit it, I might possess a dormant streak of wanting to see chaos erupt. Subconsciously, I desperately wanted to uncover the secrets of the Grand View Mountain Protectors (Guan Shan Taibao). Yet, I also harbored a faint hope of finding the ancient Corpse Elixir Cauldron in the Earth Immortal Village, so I finally steeled myself not to dwell on the gains or losses. With these thoughts, I gave Fatty a few vague instructions, pulled out my entrenching tool, and slipped through the half-open wooden doors into the pitch-black Ossuary Viewing Tower.

Shirley Yang and Old Man Sun waited for me in the second chamber. Seeing me enter from outside, they activated their tactical lights and pushed open the Ruyi Door leading to the main hall. The building was so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. Amidst the creaking sound of wooden hinges turning, the main hall door on the first floor swung open, revealing an interior filled with the musty, medicinal aroma of sandalwood carried on the stagnant air. I knew that in ancient architecture, there was a long-lost technique used to construct pavilions and halls where birds could not alight and insects could not enter. Besides using special building materials, this required the application of ancient magical formulas by Ink Masters (Moshi). Structures built this way would conceal a faint, enduring fragrance known as the Pavilion of Immortal Freedom (Xiaoyao Shenxian Ge). The Ossuary Viewing Tower might well be a rare example of such a structure. It seemed the Feng clan of Grand View Mountain possessed skills unparalleled by ordinary men in architecture, Feng Shui, and tomb construction.

We stood before the hall, observing our surroundings. Inside, there were many sandalwood racks displaying ancient artifacts, filled entirely with tortoise shells and dragon bones. I told Shirley Yang and Old Man Sun, “All the treasures stolen by the Grand View Mountain Protectors from the hanging coffins in Coffin Gorge are likely stored here.”

Old Man Sun nodded and led us forward to examine them. We found that the shells and bones were covered in symbols of the sun, moon, stars—ancient glyphs and diagrams. Some resembled the Hetu Luoshu diagrams I had seen before, but they were far more mysterious and complex, likely recording extremely ancient Feng Shui maps, yet I saw no trace of the Sixteen Hexagrams of the Heavenly Cycle. Perhaps the Ossuary Viewing Tower was merely a repository for these items, and the Earth Immortal Feng Shigu was not interred here after all.

Shirley Yang asked Old Man Sun, “Are the secrets of deduction and prognostication of the Feng clan of Grand View Mountain derived from these?” Old Man Sun looked at the bone plaques and nodded, “Precisely. Coffin Gorge holds the remains of many ancient hermits and merchants. These celestial texts written on bone contain everything, endlessly profound. Besides the ancient Dao of Feng Shui constellations, there are many inconceivable esoteric arts. As the saying goes, fortune leans on misfortune, and misfortune hides within fortune. My ancestors rose to prominence by borrowing from this, but ultimately, didn't they perish because of the word ‘tomb raiding’? If they hadn't encountered these bone relics from the hanging coffins, no descendant would have become so obsessed with delusion, leading to the annihilation (or near annihilation?) of the entire lineage.” He sighed deeply as he spoke.

However, Old Man Sun’s primary goal remained finding the Earth Immortal Feng Shigu. After casually glancing at a few bone plaques, he lost interest and continued searching toward the rear hall with fixed eyes. I exchanged a look with Shirley Yang, and we followed him closely from behind. But the moment we stepped into the rear hall, we saw Old Man Sun suddenly thump to the ground, kneeling.

I wondered why he knelt so abruptly—was he staging another corpse trick? I reached out to help him up, but in that instant, I saw numerous portraits hanging in the rear hall. The figures in the paintings all wore different styles of clothing and had varying temperaments and appearances; they were clearly from different eras. In front of the portraits stood ancestral tablets—the rear hall was actually the ancestral shrine of the Feng clan of Grand View Mountain.

Shirley Yang and I, gripped by curiosity, couldn't help but gaze at the paintings behind. The number of ancient people depicted easily approached a full hundred. Despite their exceptional bearing, their attire was bizarre, and their expressions cold. Standing before the dense array of portraits, we felt an overwhelming sensation of being scrutinized by countless dead souls, an unsettling feeling washing over our entire bodies.

A prestigious clan once granted imperial favor, now reduced to only Old Man Sun as the last living member, and even he was adopted by an unrelated family line. His hunched back seemed even more desolate before the spirits of the Feng ancestors. I couldn't help but muse on the vicissitudes of life and the unpredictability of rise and fall.

After Old Man Sun, this "unfilial descendant," finished his kowtowing to his ancestors, the three of us found nothing else of note on the first floor of the Ossuary Viewing Tower and proceeded upstairs. Under the beam of the tactical flashlight, we saw that the second floor was a place for storing scriptures and documents—the shelves were lined with ancient Taoist texts, their content revolving around alchemy and the arts of the furnace, typical of Yellow Emperor and Laozi teachings.

Flanking the windows on both sides hung an ancient painting depicting grave robbers excavating hanging coffins from sheer cliff faces. This painting was highly significant; it was the legendary Guan Shan Dao Gu Tu (Grand View Mountain Bone Robbery Painting), an antique saturated with historical information.

I said to Old Man Sun, “This painting must be the treasure of the Feng clan of Grand View Mountain. Shouldn't you take it back? Wouldn't it be a pity to let it rot here in Coffin Mountain?” Old Man Sun replied, “More than just a treasure; one could call it a national artifact. But the moment this object sees the light of day, it will undoubtedly stir up a massive controversy because it relates to secret histories of the Ming Dynasty imperial tombs, and much of established history might need to be rewritten because of it. Do you think history, already settled, is so easily rewritten? Rather than inviting trouble, it’s better to let it remain merely a piece of folklore.”

I commented, “You’ve truly let go, no longer wishing to be an academic authority opposing the establishment?” Old Man Sun retorted, “You opportunist, what good intentions do you have for urging me to take this Guan Shan Dao Gu Tu back? Actually, saying all this now is pointless. Earlier, I wasn't fear-mongering; I think none of us will be crawling out of Coffin Mountain to see the daylight again.” His tone carried a distinct note of despair.

Hearing him say that only stoked my anger further: “When you were in Beijing, Old Man Sun, you kept insisting you boarded our pirate ship, but it turns out we boarded yours, and now getting off is proving difficult.” However, I had no intention of being buried alongside the Grand View Mountain Protectors. I thought: “I must sneak away with the Guan Shan Dao Gu Tu. Unless I can paste this damned painting onto the window of my own house, I won't quell the hatred in my heart.” While my mind raced with these selfish thoughts, I told Old Man Sun, “Let’s just see what happens. It’s not time yet to contemplate retreat. Finding the Earth Immortal Feng Shigu is the priority. But it is strange... in this vast Coffin Mountain, why haven't we seen a single person who entered the Earth Immortal Village back then? It’s truly a case of seeing no living person, finding no dead body.”

Shirley Yang said, “Since the Ancestral Hall and the Feng family treasure, the Guan Shan Dao Gu Tu, are both in this building, this structure must be extremely important. Let's search more carefully; we need to look for any hidden floors or secret compartments.”

This floor contained numerous artifacts and books; it was impossible to examine everything thoroughly. We could only scan them in a passing glance. Deep within, we found four more ancient paintings hung on the back wall. Shirley Yang examined them under the light and exclaimed happily, “These look like detailed topographical maps of Coffin Mountain.”

Old Man Sun rushed forward to examine them closely, pointing to the writing on the first scroll: “‘Guan Shan Xiang Zhai Tu’ (Grand View Mountain House Viewing Map)... This is Feng Shigu’s own authentic handwriting.”

I leaned in for a closer look. The first scroll depicted Coffin Mountain hidden deep underground, surrounded by sheer cliffs resembling coffin lids, forming a long, narrow terrain. The undulating hills and valleys within the ‘coffin’ strikingly resembled a headless corpse. The entire Earth Immortal Village was built according to the mountain’s topography, with houses and courtyards laid out in a regular pattern, subtly conforming to the Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams formation.

The painting was meticulously detailed, capturing the architectural features of every building. According to this Guan Shan Xiang Zhai Tu, the entrance to the secret passage we used to enter the mountain was located on the left shoulder of the ‘headless corpse.’ After passing the Cannon God Temple, we followed the street into the backyard of the old Feng residence, thus reaching the very heart of the corpse-shaped mountain.

At the end of the ridges shaped like the headless torso, the map showed a massive, tightly sealed stone gate atop a hanging mountain, its grandeur reminiscent of the magnificent tomb of King Wuyang, yet utterly distinct from the overall style of the Earth Immortal Village. This must be an ancient relic left by the mountain’s early inhabitants. Old Man Sun said, “Feng Shigu probably entered Coffin Mountain through that stone gate; the secret passage we took was opened later.”

I nodded and moved to the second painting. I paused upon seeing it; it was remarkably similar to the first scroll, but instead of the Earth Immortal Village, it depicted a vast complex of ancient tombs beneath the village, encompassing almost all the burial chambers and tunnels. They were layered and interwoven, clearly visible, their scale and layout comparable to the residences above.

I remarked, “These two paintings are maps of the Yin and Yang residences. What is depicted matches what we’ve seen; there's nothing unexpected. I’m wondering where Feng Shigu is hiding.” Shirley Yang prompted, “What do you two see on the belly of the corpse-shaped mountain?”

Old Man Sun and I quickly looked where Shirley Yang indicated. The reclining giant corpse silhouette of Coffin Mountain wasn't a real corpse, merely a resemblance in contour and rise. On the abdomen of the corpse-shaped mountain, the painting showed a fissure like a wound, as if this body had been slain by a sharp blade in life, the cut still visible—a marvel of natural creation that defied comprehension.

I couldn't discern any hidden meaning, so I turned to the third scroll. This painting wasn't a diagram of Yin and Yang residences but depicted a narrow, deep ravine with perilous, steep terrain. Many strange bronze ritual vessels protruded from the earth layers. Furthermore, many people holding lanterns and torches were lined up in a long procession, navigating the winding bird paths carved into the cliff wall, descending toward the deepest part of the earth. The line of people entering the mountain seemed endless, and everyone in the painting had strange expressions—men, women, old, and young were all present. Five characters were inscribed above it: Bing Zhu Ye Xing Tu (Night Marching with Candles Map), radiating an ineffable mystery.

Shirley Yang mused, “These must be the people who assisted Feng Shigu in building the Yin and Yang residences in the mountains. Could the deep ravine depicted in the Bing Zhu Ye Xing Tu be the rift valley on the belly of the corpse-shaped mountain?”

I responded, “Nine times out of ten, yes. It seems this feudal lord, Feng Shigu, knew how to mobilize the masses. But what were those people doing inside the belly of the corpse-shaped mountain? Were they truly seeking eternal life, or did they have another agenda?” As I said this, a sudden thought struck me: “Wait, isn’t this deep valley in the mountain the passage leading to the Dantian [energy center] of the corpse-shaped mountain?” Remembering that the content of these scrolls seemed connected, I suspected the final painting might hold even more crucial information, so I eagerly rushed to see it.

But the scene depicted in the last scroll was entirely different from the previous few, and yet, it felt incredibly familiar: “This... this looks like the ancient tomb we first visited, the Qin tomb of King Wuyang, which the Grand View Mountain Protectors looted clean.”

Professor Sun nodded. “It is indeed the ancient tomb of King Wuyang, but at that time, it hadn't been completely emptied. The painting likely shows the scene when Feng Shigu was robbing the tomb and opening the coffins in the underground palace... The scroll clearly states: ‘Guan Shan Yu Xian Tu’ (Encountering the Immortal in Coffin Mountain Map).”

Back then, Feng Shigu had violated the ancestral teachings by plundering the largest ancient tomb in Coffin Mountain. Upon his return, his temperament changed drastically. He became extremely secretive about his experience in the tomb, merely claiming he was achieving the Great Dao and positioning himself as an Earth Immortal, using mystical words to delude the masses. All subsequent incidents, including his construction of the Earth Immortal Village and his attempts to refine the corpse into medicine to achieve immortality, stemmed from this event. Not only Shirley Yang and I were curious; Old Man Sun had spent a lifetime guessing, and upon seeing the Guan Shan Yu Xian Tu now, his excitement was almost uncontrollable, his voice trembling.

I urged Old Man Sun to control his emotions, stating that this was just Feng Shigu's self-portrait, not the real Earth Immortal, and it wasn't time to be so agitated. The three of us focused our gaze. Despite all our previous conjectures, when we finally saw clearly the scene depicted in the Guan Shan Yu Xian Tu, we were so shocked that our jaws nearly dropped to the floor.