Young Master Liu held a cigarette delicately between his middle and index fingers, his thin lips moving slightly. As the smoke slowly filled the small chamber, his pair of dark eyebrows finally lifted.

“Taoist, I ask you one more time: what exactly is the thing you want?” His voice was mild and composed, neither aggressive nor subservient, yet it carried an undeniable pressure. This subtly affected Wang Feifei and the others nearby, while Uncle Diao, amidst the crowd, allowed a mysterious smile to play on his lips.

“Hmph!” Nioren Zhang let out a cold snort from his nostrils, “Do you believe everything I say?”

“That depends on what you say,” Young Master Liu’s imposing aura suddenly retracted. “But I think, at this critical juncture, you wouldn’t lie.”

“Why?” Young Master Liu’s words seemed to exceed Nioren Zhang’s expectations. He suddenly felt that he had, even now, severely underestimated this young man before him.

One had to know that the criteria for selecting disciples in Taoism were exceptionally stringent. He himself had suffered for several years under the Nine True Temple because of this, and that was assuming his exceptional innate talent had allowed his master to go easy on him; otherwise, who knew how much longer he would have been tormented. And Old Man Zhang Enpu, as a Celestial Master of Taoism in that era, possessed an incomparable status. But why would he choose such a brat? If it was martial arts, this fellow probably only had fifty to sixty percent of his own skill. If it was Taoist arts, the gap was immense. After all, this fellow surnamed Ge possessed the Quanzhen Sect’s ultimate treasure, the ‘Jade Yang Thorn.’ Even if the other party held the Demon-Subduing Celestial Master Sword, Nioren Zhang wouldn't fear him. Excluding those two aspects, there was truly nothing comparable. But still, being a rather calculating person, Nioren Zhang absolutely refused to believe that Zhang Enpu acted without reason. Thus, a strong psychological suggestion made him feel that this boy was abnormal, very abnormal, extremely abnormal. And now, Young Master Liu’s words cut right to the heart of that feeling.

However, Nioren Zhang’s introspection did not last long before it was interrupted by Young Master Liu’s next statement.

“Because... your heart has grown weary,” saying this, Young Master Liu sighed, gesturing with a touch of helplessness toward the age spots on Nioren Zhang’s face. “Regardless of all the unpleasantness that happened before, what you desire most now is not immortality, but an ordinary life like a normal person.”

“You…” Nioren Zhang’s heart gave a sudden jolt. He widened his eyes, one hand frozen mid-air, staring at Young Master Liu in utter disbelief, as if looking at a monster—a monster capable of piercing the minds of others.

“You must be wondering how I know what you are thinking and feeling,” Young Master Liu smiled.

He shook his palm slightly, stopping Nioren Zhang’s impending inquiry. “In truth, we are the same kind of person, and I desire that kind of life even more than you do.”

Hearing this, Nioren Zhang’s expression became complicated—a mix of struggle and surprise, but predominantly, a sense of kindred spirit and relief washed over him.

“I say, you two stop this endless moralizing banter and just tell us: is this coffin opening or not?” The strong man Zhong Kui jumped out and asked. He was a true Northerner, unaccustomed to beating around the bush, preferring directness—a trait that had earned him the favor of Uncle Diao.

At this moment, the gazes of everyone in the tomb chamber turned toward Uncle Diao, seemingly awaiting his word, as he was, after all, the most significant figure in the group.

Sensing the surrounding attention, Uncle Diao couldn't help but smile slightly; this hot potato had finally been tossed to him. In fact, ever since Nioren Zhang began speaking, he had been contemplating the situation. If what Nioren Zhang said was true, then refusing to open the coffin meant Nioren Zhang would inevitably die, and the group might not find any other exit within this golden ancient city. Furthermore, they couldn't simply watch Nioren Zhang perish before their eyes. And the group of tomb robbers behind them were all driven by avarice; they had risked their lives to reach this point, and returning empty-handed would surely lead to internal strife, making the situation far more precarious. Thinking this, he nodded toward Young Master Liu, his meaning perfectly clear without a word.

“Indeed, open the coffin. Do as Nioren Zhang wishes! He gets the first item!” Having secured Uncle Diao’s assent, Young Master Liu finally made up his mind.

“What?” Young Master Liu’s words were like a thunderclap scattering among the crowd, instantly causing an uproar. A few of the more vicious individuals immediately emerged, pointing fingers and cursing him: “Damn it, you little brat! We’ve gone through fire and water with you and your father to get here! Even if we haven't earned merit, we’ve suffered hardship, haven’t we? What now? Are you kicking us aside after we served our purpose? Damn it, if you dare to fool us brothers like this, even with Uncle Diao here, we’ll drop the pleasantries! You’re letting him take one thing from the coffin, but what if the entire chest only contains a single treasure? Wouldn't we have made this trip for nothing? Who pays for the burial expenses of our fallen brothers? You?”

Stirred by these provocations, the others reflected and agreed with the sentiment, joining the chorus with red eyes, and a thick atmosphere of gunpowder permeated the space.

“Nan Pazi, fall back!” Uncle Diao finally couldn't hold back, roaring with a dark face.

“But?” Those few individuals seemed unwilling to yield, wanting to voice more objections.

“There is no ‘but’!” Uncle Diao stamped his foot heavily.

These tomb robbers were instantly intimidated by him, wilting like frost-bitten cabbage.

While Uncle Diao outwardly appeared only as the owner of an antique and geomancy shop, he was, in reality, one of the three great titans who dominated the grave-robbing world. Thirty years ago, the tomb-robbing circles on the mainland spoke of ‘Southern Diao, Northern Jia, Central Sima.’

It was just a pity that grave robbing was inherently a perilous venture, licking blood from the edge of a blade and plucking fire from the heart of danger. No matter how high one’s skill, it could only reduce unnecessary harm. The ancients possessed profound wisdom; there were countless geomancers, Yin-Yang masters, and mechanism experts, not to mention the elaborate traps—quicksand, scythes, rolling boulders, shadow palaces, flying darts, and even zombies—laid by kings and generals in their mausoleums.

A clay pot is bound to break near the well, and a general is destined to fall in battle. Since Sun Dianying blew open the tomb of Empress Dowager Cixi during the warlord era, who knows how many tomb robbers have perished in the pitch-black underworld? Of the three great masters dominating that era, Sima Nan and his four disciples and grand-disciples all perished in the Northern Sea Demon’s Den. According to the sole survivor, the old man’s body was bitten into pieces by the black flood dragon, staining the entire entrance crimson. The other titan, Jia Zhuangyuan, barely escaped death in the great desert, but he emerged half-mad, completely stripped of the bearing of a Mojin Xiaowei. Now, the only one remaining standing was his kin, Uncle Diao, Diao Deyi.

In recent days, Uncle Diao had effectively become the patriarch of the tomb-robbing world. The Tao has its principles, and the trade has its rules. Therefore, no matter how agitated the crowd was now, they could not openly confront Uncle Diao.

“What I, Diao Deyi, say has always been solid. In thirty years, have any of you ever seen me cheat a single person?” Diao Deyi gritted his teeth.

“N-no, Old Master, that’s not what we meant.” The fellow called Nan Pazi, feeling cornered under Uncle Diao’s stern gaze, could only try to smooth things over with a forced laugh.

“Alright, I understand what you mean,” Uncle Diao stepped forward and patted Nan Pazi’s shoulder. “Even the eminent monks say it: ‘All beings rush toward profit; all beings bustle for gain.’ You all have fought for half your lives; who isn't striving for a secure and prosperous latter half? I, Diao Deyi, owe you brothers this favor. If the contents of this coffin are substantial, then it’s settled: after Nioren Zhang takes his share, the rest will be divided equally among everyone. My share goes to you too. But if we have bad luck, just as Brother Nan said, and the entire coffin holds only one treasure, then I accept responsibility. When we return, I, Diao Deyi, will cover the burial expenses for the deceased brothers. And I will give you all compensation for your hard work, too. Is that acceptable?”

Seeing that Uncle Diao had put his cards on the table this far, if they hesitated any longer, they would truly be ignorant of the situation.

“Agreed!” Nan Pazi clasped his hands in a salute to Uncle Diao. “We trust in Uncle Diao’s character! Do what you must! If you need the brothers’ help, we will support you.”

“Good! Now that’s more like it,” Uncle Diao nodded with satisfaction, then waved at Young Master Liu.

Seeing Uncle Diao once again override the dissent, Young Master Liu felt a surge of excitement. After all, as long as one is alive, one must hold onto hope, right? Nothing is one hundred percent certain. Could he truly watch Nioren Zhang die before his eyes and do nothing? Moreover, Nioren Zhang possessed profound Taoist arts, mastering the core tenets of the Quanzhen Sect, and his martial arts were not lacking. If he were to resort to force, these seemingly robust fellows, except for himself and Uncle Diao, would be powerless to resist. Now that the other party was willing to speak frankly and negotiate, it demonstrated one hundred percent sincerity. For him, all the mysteries lingering since Bodhisattva Mountain, and the true origin of the Taiping Qingling Shu, could only be verified by opening the coffin. With this thought, Young Master Liu rolled up his sleeves, “Old Ge, what are you waiting for? Open the coffin! Look at this frail body of mine; I can’t handle such a large lid by myself.”

“R-really?” Seeing Young Master Liu’s genuine movement, Nioren Zhang was both shocked and overjoyed. He tightly grasped Young Master Liu’s hand, saying excitedly, “Have you thought this through properly?!”

Young Master Liu smiled faintly at him and nodded. “I have thought it through. We cannot stand idly by while you sacrifice yourself before us. Although I still harbor suspicions about you, I will tentatively believe what you said before. Therefore, we must open the coffin to confirm. Nioren Zhang, you understand this better than I do; you oversee the opening of the coffin!”

“Naturally. Good. Thank you for believing me. Let’s open the coffin immediately.” Nioren Zhang spoke, then turned to Captain Fan Debiao, “Captain Fan, lend a hand. Miss Wang, please stand back to prevent any accidents.”

The outer lid of the golden sarcophagus was immensely heavy. Young Master Liu and Fan Debiao struggled at both ends for a long time, finally managing to use every ounce of strength to pry open a slight gap, only for their palms to slip, causing the lid to slam shut again with a dull boom.