Uncle Diao offered no further words; it seemed his thoughts mirrored Young Master Liu’s. It wasn't just Uncle Diao—anyone finding themselves in this situation would be completely bewildered. For a moment, no one knew where to even begin, or how to begin thinking about it.

As Young Master Liu racked his brain in confusion, Jackson suddenly approached him and motioned for him to look at a mural. Young Master Liu followed Jackson’s instructions with a sense of doubt. At first glance, the mural meant nothing to him, but on the second look, he was utterly stunned.

The content of the mural Jackson directed Young Master Liu to observe depicted a palace—the very same one where the four tour workers had been discovered. Seated on the throne was a woman wearing a tiger-shaped mask and an apricot-yellow Daoist robe, holding a feather fan in her hand.

Seeing this mural, Young Master Liu was completely lost. This... this woman looked strangely familiar. After thinking for a long time, he finally recalled: a dream. Yes, it was a dream; this woman had appeared in his dream just last night.

In an instant, the impression of this woman was indelible in Young Master Liu’s mind. Her figure was so graceful, her voice so soft and melodious, so captivating.

In the dream, she was waiting for Young Master Liu. He didn't know who she was, but she knew his name. Yet, judging by the mural, she appeared to be the Golden Queen.

Why would he dream of her? Everything was happening too fast. Young Master Liu had no answer to his own questions, so he could only continue studying the subsequent murals, hoping his questions might be answered further on.

Young Master Liu skipped the mural Jackson had pointed out and moved to the next one. That scene was unremarkable, simply depicting normal citizens paying homage to the Queen. Young Master Liu wasn't very interested in this one, so he moved straight to the next.

The content of this panel was largely identical to the previous one. Just as Young Master Liu was about to shift his gaze to the next scene, he noticed a difference: this mural featured two additional figures, two people dressed in black. The word "assassins" flashed through Young Master Liu's mind.

Assassins? Were they there to attempt to assassinate the Golden Queen? Judging by the formation, it seemed so. How would the Queen deal with them—by slow slicing (lingchi) or some other method? The answer lay in the next panel.

So, Young Master Liu shifted his gaze to the next scene. Seeing this, Young Master Liu panicked instantly. Every hair on his body stood on end. He could feel the cold sweat pouring from his brow, and his body trembled slightly. This painting depicted the Golden Queen wielding a very small rod, making flourishes above a table, while the two black-clad figures beneath the throne were grotesquely contorted, as if viewed through a funhouse mirror. In the following panel, these two figures were reduced to mere black specks.

Seeing this, Young Master Liu was terrified. He was certain that in his twenty-plus years of life, he had never been this frightened—not even when he first saw his name inscribed in the Taiping Jing. What had she written on the table that caused two living men to vanish? Were those their names? Did Clay Man Zhang vanish the same way? Then why was his name in the Taiping Jing and yet he was fine?

A curse! This was a curse from a thousand years ago. Perhaps his fate, his entire life, had long been fixed upon the pages of the Taiping Jing.

The thought caused Young Master Liu to shake violently. Wang Feifei, noticing his extreme reaction, rushed to ask what was wrong. Young Master Liu said nothing. This was something no one could possibly understand, not even himself—whether it was real or not. But everything felt so terribly real. Until he uncovered the final secret, Young Master Liu chose to conceal it.

Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, Young Master Liu composed himself and told Wang Feifei, "It’s nothing. Maybe I hit my head pretty hard last night; I feel a bit unwell now." He thought to himself, even if this was an ancient curse, he was fine for now. Before he could obtain the final answer, he could not afford to be incapacitated. Even if he were to disappear, he would do so with full clarity.

Wang Feifei suggested, "Why don't you rest for a bit?"

Fan Debiao chimed in beside them, "Yeah! Yeah! This body is the capital for revolution. No matter what, you can’t lose the principal." Hearing this same phrase again depressed Young Master Liu.

Young Master Liu waved his hand and said, "I’m fine. Everyone needs to hurry and find the secret Uncle Diao discovered twelve years ago."

Fan Debiao spat to the side and grumbled, "This place is just this small, sealed on all sides. Everything is in plain sight. What could there be to find?"

"No, this isn't the end," Wang Feifei interjected.

Uncle Diao looked thoroughly puzzled and asked, "Miss Wang, why do you say that?"

Wang Feifei paused, then pulled out a photograph and waved it in front of everyone. Upon seeing this photo, everyone except Uncle Diao understood what Wang Feifei meant by her statement. It was a yellowed picture showing only a single black stone sarcophagus—yes, the very sarcophagus Wang Feifei had shown everyone before they set out. What the tour people wanted them to find was this.

Uncle Diao looked at the photograph with continued confusion. Young Master Liu gathered his thoughts and recounted the whole affair to Uncle Diao.

Uncle Diao nodded after hearing the story, but a look of anxiety spread across his face. Twelve years ago, he had personally discovered the remains in that coffin. Perhaps he had even taken this photograph himself. Facing something so intimately familiar while having absolutely no memory of it—Young Master Liu couldn't fully grasp that feeling, but he knew it must be complex. If it weren't Uncle Diao, but himself in that position, he might have already broken down completely.

"This is not the endpoint." At this, everyone understood the meaning of that phrase. There was no sarcophagus of the Golden Queen here, not even any coffin, only mingqi (funerary objects). This meant this room was merely a chamber designed to hold accompanying burial artifacts.

So where was the Golden Queen’s main tomb? Was it beneath one of the thousands of holes above? If so, why did Clay Man Zhang specifically jump down here and disappear? Young Master Liu’s gaze drifted back to the mural. Had Clay Man Zhang truly met such an end? A chill swept through him again.

At this point, Fan Debiao exploded: "Damn it! What the hell is this place? No sarcophagus of the Golden Queen, and no other tomb chamber. Damn it..." Seeing Fan Debiao’s outburst, Young Master Liu quickly stepped in, utilizing his inner "master of image," urging him to calm down. One must not lose composure in an ancient tomb.

"Clay Man Zhang absolutely did not vanish into thin air. There must be a trick here. Everyone search! All the good stuff is in the main tomb," Uncle Diao commanded, his tone brooks no argument.

Hearing Uncle Diao’s directive, the others began searching everywhere. Fan Debiao started knocking and banging on things. Young Master Liu and Wang Feifei joined the search.

However, after searching for a considerable time with no significant discoveries, everyone fell into a state of anxiety. Several people were already preparing to grab some mingqi and leave—a situation Uncle Diao couldn't control. Old Wu also fell silent.

Just then, something completely unexpected happened. The entire chamber began to shake spontaneously. A section of the tomb wall directly in front of them started to rise slowly, much like a roll-up door, ascending quickly to the ceiling.

Behind the rising wall was a haze of noxious fumes. As the smoke dissipated, a figure emerged from behind the wall. Once the smoke cleared, they saw clearly: it was Clay Man Zhang!

Clay Man Zhang. There he stood, facing them, behind the slowly ascending wall—it was Clay Man Zhang! Seeing him brought a mix of shock and joy.

The existence of a mechanism here was expected, but what puzzled Young Master Liu was that this large group had searched for ages without finding it, yet Clay Man Zhang, alone, managed to locate the mechanism and enter in such a short time. This left only one explanation: he was intimately familiar with this place.

But how could he be familiar with it? Had he been here before? No, if he had been here, his reaction wouldn't have been so strong when Uncle Diao mentioned the cave.

Since the man was now before them, agonizing over possibilities was pointless. It was better to ask him directly.

Clay Man Zhang slowly walked out from behind the tomb wall. His clothes were tattered; the hood of his sweatshirt was gone, but the towel still covered his face. His clothing was badly ripped in many places, some parts hanging in strips, suggesting he had just survived a fierce battle inside. However, based on the situation, Clay Man Zhang appeared to be the victor.

Everyone looked at Clay Man Zhang with astonished eyes. Strange as it was, Clay Man Zhang was young but had a full head of white hair. His melancholic eyes were partially obscured by the long, white strands. He carried a travel bag on his back, bulging with unknown contents. Most people’s gazes were fixed on this bag, perhaps assuming Clay Man Zhang had secured the treasures inside. Not only the others, but Young Master Liu also believed this. He wondered if what was inside was precisely what Uncle Diao had discovered twelve years ago.