Upon hearing Fan Debiao’s account, Young Master Liu was simultaneously shocked and delighted; the answer was surprisingly simple, making him realize he had overcomplicated things—though it was entirely consistent with Uncle Diao's methods.

Young Master Liu paused, then asked Fan Debiao with a flicker of doubt, "What about Clay Figure Zhang? Why didn’t he return with you?"

Fan Debiao let out an 'Ai' sound. "That kid saw those holes and jumped down without a second thought. Everyone hurry up, or he’ll have pilfered all the treasures by the time we get there."

As soon as Uncle Diao's men heard the word "treasure" mentioned by Fan Debiao, their eyes turned red. Instant chaos erupted; they scrambled and crawled out of the palace gates, rushing along the path Fan Debiao had just taken.

Humans are just like that—vulgar, driven by self-interest and money, which can instantly override rationality. They are willing to risk their very lives for something utterly insubstantial.

Young Master Liu looked back, and it was only then that he felt a flicker of hope that he hadn't been completely disappointed in humanity. At least Old Wu, that big fellow, and Rat hadn't followed the horde. It seemed these three were the only ones truly worthy of Uncle Diao's trust. Of course, no one else present, those involved in exploration, had moved an inch—not until they received orders from Wang Feifei.

But hadn't they come for the artifacts below anyway? Therefore, critical items could not be left in the hands of those greedy men, even if, in a way, they were assisting tour in their endeavors.

There was no need for lengthy verbal communication; a simple exchange of glances was enough for everyone to understand each other's intent. Without hesitation, they all bolted out of the palace gates, led by Fan Debiao, heading straight for the location where Clay Figure Zhang had been spotted.

The ancient city was densely packed with buildings. They zipped between the structures, Young Master Liu deliberately avoiding looking too closely at the adjacent walls, which made him dizzy. After running furiously for about a minute, Fan Debiao led them to the spot he had indicated.

They slowed their pace and saw a group of people standing before a clearing, arguing amongst themselves. Why aren’t these people going down? Young Master Liu wondered to himself.

Taking long, swift strides, they soon reached the edge of the clearing. It was covered with holes of uniform size, resembling deep, staring eyes fixed upon the sky, as if revealing some profound secret to them.

Was it an ancient civilization? Or a mysterious past?

Or perhaps—Death!

Young Master Liu bent down, peering into one of the holes. It was an inky black void. He switched on his flashlight, directing the beam downward, but the light lacked penetration, rendering everything vague—it was impossible to tell what lay within.

Uncle Diao stared at the abyssal opening with deep, contemplative eyes, straining his memory, yet failing to recall even a single fragment of what had transpired here in the past.

Old Wu, seeing that the others hesitated to descend, burst out cursing, "You lot charged faster than rabbits, so why the hell don't you have the guts to go down now? If you want to find the funerary objects, you’d best follow Uncle Diao’s orders."

Old Wu’s tirade silenced the others, who lowered their heads. It seemed Old Wu held considerable authority; perhaps he was the one who had recruited these men.

Truth be told, the holes possessed an inherent quality that sent shivers down the spine—a feeling originating deep within. "Chilling" was perhaps the most fitting description.

Uncle Diao approached Fan Debiao and asked, "Which one did Clay Figure Zhang go down?"

Fan Debiao gazed at the array of holes, momentarily bewildered. He looked around, then pointed his finger at one specific opening. "This one," he said.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive!"

Uncle Diao walked to the hole indicated by Fan Debiao, took a deep breath, and without further comment, stated firmly, "Descend!"

Young Master Liu felt little internal reaction; this was inevitable and necessary, a duty and a right, in equal measure.

Once Uncle Diao gave the order, he switched on his flashlight and jumped in first. Seeing him go, the others quickly activated their own lights and followed one by one.

Every flashlight blazed, making the space below resemble earth bathed in sunlight—there was no darkness, no shadow, because the area was too small. About twenty people crammed in, making Young Master Liu feel stifled, struggling for air.

Just as he was mentally cursing Fan Debiao for pointing out the wrong route, the floor suddenly shifted. A square opening appeared before them, revealing a staircase behind it. The people bottlenecked in the narrow space began filing through, one by one.

Young Master Liu realized what was happening. He and Wang Feifei were at the rear. After traversing the short flight of steps, they saw everyone else frozen in place. Then, Young Master Liu froze too.

This place was utterly unlike what he had imagined—not the hellish underworld of a Yellow Springs ghost mansion. Instead, it was a magnificent, exquisite queen’s chamber. The space was roughly the size of a basketball court, flanked by a small pool into which water continuously trickled. The water was crystal clear, sparkling brilliantly under the flashlights, almost blinding the eye.

The surrounding walls were adorned with vibrant murals. Their style suggested the hand of Dunhuang, yet they lacked the distorted quality typical of those murals; these were remarkably realistic.

Young Master Liu’s first impression was that this was a tomb—specifically, one filled with funerary objects. Even after centuries of wind and sand erosion, the artifacts scattered throughout the chamber vividly attested to its former glory.

Upon seeing this, everyone surged down the steps toward the mingqi. Wang Zhicai and Lin Simiao were no exception; the scene devolved into chaos once more.

The group rummaged and pawed through the pile of treasures. Fan Debiao, overcome with joy, even began singing a folk song about Chairman Mao leading the revolution.

There were archaeologists and tomb raiders side-by-side; two professions sworn to be incompatible, now mingled together. Thinking closely, one could argue that grave robbing (daodou) and archaeological exploration were, in a certain theoretical sense, family.

Young Master Liu ignored the artifacts on the floor; the murals on the walls were far more captivating to him—no, not just him; Uncle Diao and Wang Feifei were meticulously studying the paintings.

These murals were intensely lifelike. Even if Young Master Liu hadn't been an archaeologist, any average person could grasp the narrative depicted. The murals told a long, continuous story, like an unfolding historical scroll.

The four walls connected seamlessly, the murals covering the entirety of the tomb's surface. Young Master Liu searched for the beginning of this historical panorama when a sudden dread gripped him. Since the walls were continuous, this chamber was sealed. So, where was Clay Figure Zhang? Hadn't he come down too? Had a living person vanished into thin air?

The thought destroyed Young Master Liu’s focus on the murals. Clay Figure Zhang, a living, breathing man, had simply vanished—it was impossible to accept.

He scrutinized the surroundings again, finding no doors or other openings. Then, he thought of the pool. Could he be hiding in there? Though it seemed absurd, and Clay Figure Zhang had no reason to hide, Young Master Liu approached the pool and peered intently, finding nothing conclusive. On impulse, Young Master Liu jumped in and searched for a long time, finding absolutely nothing. At that moment, Young Master Liu was certain: Clay Figure Zhang was gone.

"Da Shao, what are you doing?" As Young Master Liu pondered, Fan Debiao’s voice suddenly materialized right next to his ear. Startled by the sudden intrusion, Young Master Liu nearly fell backward into the water.

He snapped back to reality to find everyone staring at him with odd expressions. Perhaps his vigorous splashing had made them think he’d lost his sanity. Young Master Liu managed an awkward smile and waved his hands, signaling them to continue. Immediately, the others resumed their preoccupation with the artifacts.

Fan Debiao turned to leave, but Young Master Liu grabbed his arm. "Fan Debiao, are you absolutely sure Clay Figure Zhang came down through the hole we used?"

Fan Debiao looked confused by the question and turned back. "Damn it, I was right next to him! He definitely jumped down through this hole. I swear to Chairman Deng."

"Are you certain?"

"I’m certain as sunrise, man!"

Seeing Fan Debiao’s certainty, Young Master Liu figured he wasn't lying and had no reason to fabricate a story. Young Master Liu then prompted him, "Didn't you notice? Clay Figure Zhang is missing."

Hearing this, Fan Debiao glanced around, then turned back to Young Master Liu. "Pfft! That kid probably wandered off to another chamber. He’s not interested in the stuff here, unlike Fatty Liu, who is."

Young Master Liu felt a sudden urge to throttle him—what kind of observational skills did the man possess? He snapped, "Did you not notice this tomb chamber is sealed, you idiot?"

Fan Debiao quickly turned to survey the walls again. He turned back to Young Master Liu. "With all these treasures around, I honestly didn't notice it was sealed." He paused, as if waking from a dream, then exclaimed, "Holy crap! If it’s sealed, how could Clay Figure Zhang have disappeared?"

Seeing Fan Debiao’s brain finally catch up, Young Master Liu said, "Exactly. Otherwise, why would I ask you such a ridiculous question?"

Fan Debiao’s expression clearly betrayed a dawning sense of dread. He eyed the chamber suspiciously. "Dammit, what kind of monster is in here that could make Clay Figure Zhang vanish?"

Young Master Liu considered this for a moment and said to Fan Debiao, "Definitely not a zongzi [a specific type of mummy/undead]. Look around—there are no signs of a struggle. That means Clay Figure Zhang was neutralized instantly, which speaks volumes about the terror of whatever it was. Maybe it’s the same thing that scared those tour members to death."

Hearing this, Fan Debiao’s resolve completely evaporated. "No, this is too serious. We have to go discuss this with Uncle Diao."

Young Master Liu nodded, climbing out of the pool. He walked over to Uncle Diao and recounted the entire story of Clay Figure Zhang’s disappearance, along with the conjectures formed by himself and Fan Debiao. Uncle Diao, who had been deeply engrossed in studying the murals, instantly sobered when he heard the news, his face darkening.

Uncle Diao spoke no words, indicating his thoughts mirrored Young Master Liu’s exactly. Frankly, anyone encountering such a situation would be bewildered; for a moment, no one knew where to even begin, or how to start thinking about it.