Young Master Liu decided to stake everything on this throw, retrieving the glutinous rice he had secured earlier from Scholar Jia. The instant the Corpse King lunged after him, Young Master Liu spun around violently, flinging the entire bag of rice directly over the Purple-Gold Corpse King’s head. The bright white grains rained down like a celestial scattering, drenching the Corpse King. Every single grain that made contact caused the creature to writhe as if scalded by boiling water, spewing black ichor from its entire body. Seeing that his move had some effect, albeit weak, Young Master Liu watched as the rice quickly ran out. The others managed to hold the line, taking turns engaging the Corpse King. Finally, Scholar Jia, gasping for breath, urged, "Kid Liu! Find the exit, quickly! If this continues, we’ll all perish here!"

"I know!" Young Master Liu nodded hastily.

He glanced over at Cai Qingchong. The poor fellow had only been struck in the stomach by the coffin lid, causing him to faint from the sheer intensity of the pain. Luckily, he was still carrying a cloth bundle full of rope, which proved invaluable by absorbing a portion of the impact from the coffin. If he had any other issue, it was likely severe internal injury. Unbeknownst to anyone, Fan Debiao's eyes were now filled with tears. With a voice hoarse from yelling, he whispered to the unconscious Cai Qingchong, "Brother! Hold on! I believe you’ll be fine! Didn't we promise to go pick up girls together?"

Whether it was hearing Fan Debiao’s words or not, Cai Qingchong coughed violently. Fan Debiao wiped his tears away and reluctantly followed Young Master Liu to search for an exit.

Just then, the Purple-Gold Corpse King, which had been relentlessly chasing them, suddenly stumbled. A long, rod-shaped object slipped from its waist and struck the ground with a crisp, clanging sound. Young Master Liu’s ears twitched, and he cautiously crawled over, retrieving the item the Corpse King had dropped. Focusing his gaze, he saw it was half a bronze carving—a tiger mid-roar. Knowing a bit about antique collecting, he instantly recognized it as a military tally, a Hufu, used to command troops! If a person carried such an item, they were either an Emperor or a Great General! Young Master Liu finally understood. This was absolutely not an Emperor! This was clearly a general interred as a funerary sacrifice to guard the tomb. Perhaps this whole situation was a trap, a mechanism designed by the tomb owner to ensure everyone perished here. Yet, looking at the Purple-Gold Corpse King, its actual lethality seemed quite low. Firstly, it lacked any decisive killing mechanism, and secondly, its bulky physique prevented it from landing meaningful blows; it could only herd them around in circles like an eagle chasing chicks. Realizing this, Young Master Liu stood up and declared, "Stop running! That thing can’t hurt us!"

Fan Debiao called back while fleeing, "Blast it, Young Master, have you lost your mind? That's nonsense!"

Young Master Liu strode toward the Purple-Gold Corpse King. The creature responded by hopping and bouncing toward him. Young Master Liu held his dagger horizontally across his chest. The Corpse King charged straight at him without even looking, only to recoil after feeling the pain. This gave the others a crucial opening; they immediately dropped their packs and collapsed onto the ground. Cai Qingchong, seeing Young Master Liu’s daring move, told him, "Young Master, this zombie probably isn't a Corpse King! Look at its tattered gear; it clearly looks like a mere attendant."

Young Master Liu couldn't overpower the tall zombie; he was sent flying several times. Finally forced to retreat, he moved toward the others. Scholar Jia rested briefly, then stood up and declared, "I agree this zombie poses no real threat, but keeping it around is asking for trouble. We should eliminate it."

Young Master Liu replied, "Elder Jia, there's no need for that! Besides, we don't really have a good way to destroy it!"

Scholar Jia, realizing he was being overlooked, felt his old face twist slightly. He suddenly stood up and proclaimed, "Damn it all! You all underestimate me too much! Go ask around! Besides the Mausoleum of Qin Shi Huang, which tomb haven't I cracked?"

With that, he strode toward the Purple-Gold Corpse King, which was now independently maneuvering to one side, searching for opponents. Scholar Jia held a flashlight in one hand, his other hand hidden within his sleeve, clutching something unknown. The Corpse King sensed someone approaching, turned its head savagely, and hopped closer. Suddenly, a white shadow shot out with a swoosh toward the zombie’s forehead. With a sharp thwack, like a firecracker exploding, a deep fissure split open on the Corpse King’s glabella. Immediately after, its entire head cracked open like shifting tectonic plates, starting from that central split. The onlookers were stunned speechless. Scholar Jia followed up with a swift side-kick, sending the zombie sprawling. Young Master Liu exclaimed in surprise, "Elder Jia, was that an Yinguan Suihun Ding [Ghost Official Soul-Shattering Nail] you just used?"

Scholar Jia habitually pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his hands before turning back to Young Master Liu and sitting down. He then asked, "Kid Liu, have you figured out how we get out now?"

Young Master Liu nodded, pointed at the carcass of the Purple-Gold Corpse King, and said, "Search him!"

The group, half-believing, busied themselves for a while and actually managed to retrieve a brocade pouch bearing a Tai Chi symbol from the Corpse King’s person. Everyone’s eyes widened. What secret could possibly be hidden within such a small pouch?

Young Master Liu gently pulled open the white drawstring securing the pouch and reached inside, drawing out a yellow piece of paper folded in half. When Young Master Liu unfolded it, everyone leaned in to look. They saw dense script written in small, peculiar characters, with a diagram of lines and dots sketched faintly at the bottom.

Young Master Liu frowned, handed the paper to Scholar Jia, and said, "Elder, I don't recognize these characters. Perhaps you can look at them."

Scholar Jia nodded, accepting the paper. He clearly recognized the strange script. He read it from beginning to end. During the reading, his facial expressions shifted dramatically: first shock, then utter disbelief, and finally, his face began to twitch uncontrollably, displaying pure terror. When he finished reading everything, he slowly raised his head, his gaze unfocused as he looked at them. "These characters are Guiwen [Ghost Script], and this note is a message left for us by someone named Yin Changsheng." The moment he uttered that last sentence, everyone shuddered in fear. Young Master Liu asked, somewhat startled, "What did you say? You mean Yin Changsheng left this for us to see?"

Scholar Jia swallowed dryly, forcing his eyes to move. Still somewhat dazed, he told them, "This Yin Changsheng—I don’t know if he is man or deity. Do you know what this paper says? It reads: Since you were able to break the Star Constellation Grand Array and vanquish a fierce ghost like a Bā, you must not be ordinary people. Now that you have seen my message, you have glimpsed the mysteries of the Wuji Dao Zang. I can spare you the troubles of journeys to other locations. You may proceed directly to the Ninety-Nine Heavens; I await your esteemed arrival in this city. It is followed by a map detailing the route to the Ninety-Nine Heavens. Follow the guidance until you reach the city gates. The corpse in the coffin is my Yellow Turban Marshal; you must treat him well and ensure he is not exposed. Be extremely cautious! I shall reward you accordingly!* It is signed, Yin Changsheng."

Hearing Scholar Jia’s recounting, everyone was deeply shaken. As Scholar Jia noted, who was this Yin Changsheng? To predict that people would arrive here millennia later, break the mechanism, open the coffin, and read his letter, even stating he would wait for them in the City of Life and Death—it was utterly unbelievable! For a moment, everyone fell silent, a profound sense of dread washing over them concerning this individual who called himself Yin Changsheng, or perhaps Zhang Jiao. This person felt truly inscrutable, beyond mortal comprehension.

After a long pause, Scholar Jia let out a soft chuckle. He said, "The ancients were skilled at predicting future events, often using theatrics to appear mysterious. This Yin Changsheng lived a thousand years ago; how could he still be alive today? I prefer to believe this paper is merely a calculated mystery this man set up when constructing the Wuji Dao Zang. We shouldn't put too much faith in it. Let’s follow the map and make the trip to the Ninety-Nine Heavens. This paper’s appearance has actually saved us a lot of detours."

Young Master Liu rallied his spirits, adding, "That’s right. We shouldn't overthink things now; the mission must be completed. We have only one goal. Haven't we already survived countless perilous and bizarre events? Whether this Yin Changsheng is a divine being with immense power or someone merely posturing, we will understand everything when we reach the Ninety-Nine Heavens." Hearing the words of Scholar Jia and Young Master Liu, the others could only reluctantly accept their viewpoint. After all, none of them truly believed a person from a thousand years ago could still be alive, waiting for their audience.

However, they agreed with the part of the note concerning the Yellow Turban Marshal not being exposed. Thus, the group decided to close the inner coffin and return the Purple-Gold Corpse King to its original resting place. But when they looked up, the Purple-Gold Corpse King had vanished. A chill ran down their spines. Where was the Corpse King? How could it have disappeared so suddenly? Hadn’t it been subdued? Even if it hadn't been killed, it shouldn't have been able to escape. Could it somehow be immune to the restraint of the stone coffin?

Just then, Fan Debiao suddenly shouted, "Look, the palace doors are open!"

They rushed to look and confirmed Fan Debiao’s claim: the palace gates stood wide open, illuminated by the blue light reflecting off the Heavy Water Lake outside.

Scholar Jia murmured, "This is too strange. How could the Purple-Gold Corpse King have vanished so abruptly?"

At that moment, a chilling, sinister laugh echoed from outside the hall. A voice familiar to them all rang out: "Although the Purple-Gold Corpse King was restrained by that stone coffin, my ability to move objects from a distance allowed it to escape." As the voice spoke, several figures appeared at the palace entrance. Some of them were the strange patrons they had encountered at the Xinjiang Restaurant; however, there were only three of them now, whereas there had been seven before, suggesting they too had paid a heavy price to reach this point. Behind them stood a group of foreigners with deep-set eyes and prominent noses.

"It's you!" Young Master Liu exclaimed involuntarily.

Zhao Wending walked slowly into the hall, his face grim, accompanied by the foreigners. Only then did the group see that the Purple-Gold Corpse King was trailing right behind Zhao Wending. Its fierce gaze was fixed intently on them, yet it stood docilely by Zhao Wending’s side.

Entering the hall, Zhao Wending swept Scholar Jia with a venomous look, clearly still nursing a grudge over the time the scholar had severed his arm with a whip. A cruel smile touched his lips as he addressed the group, "Old friends, we meet again. This time, I shall grind your bones to dust!" His clenched-jaw expression was fearsome, especially his eyes, which sent a shiver down everyone's spine. Scholar Jia, however, stepped forward, meeting Zhao Wending’s gaze without flinching. "Zhao Wending, I let you escape last time; this time, I will ensure you stay."

At this point, one of the foreigners beside him stepped forward, waving a hand to signal Zhao Wending to let him speak. This man wore a sharply tailored, deep-black suit, his skin unnervingly pale, and his sparse hair slicked back flawlessly. He wore gold-rimmed glasses perched on a high nose bridge. He first elegantly placed his right hand over his chest, gave the group a slight bow in the manner of a gentleman, and then spoke in fluent Mandarin. "To my Chinese friends, I am an American. My name is James, and I am a Ph.D. from the American Society for Oriental Antiquities Research." He then gestured to his companions beside him. "Allow me to introduce my colleagues. I need not introduce Mr. Zhao Wending from the desert. The others here are top experts from the American fields of archaeology and psychic abilities."

He first pointed to the man to his left—a figure cloaked in black with long hair and a black mask covering his face—saying, "This is Mr. Mahada, an expert from our American archaeological circle." Young Master Liu noticed the black-clad man’s attire was peculiar, resembling the tight-fitting night clothes of ancient China. Moreover, Young Master Liu sensed a faint, terrifying, and icy aura emanating from him, prompting him to stare a moment longer. The cloaked man seemed to sense Young Master Liu’s gaze, lifted his head, and shot him a glance through his mask—an unnervingly wolfish and cold look. Young Master Liu instantly felt a chill and quickly averted his eyes.

Dr. James then pointed to a bald giant wearing a camouflage vest, both arms heavily tattooed with black leopard heads, introducing him: "This is Mr. Hatton, a master of American psychic abilities." Finally, he gestured toward two other Black men in camouflage uniforms: "These two gentlemen are also masters from our American psychic community. The remaining few behind me are special forces operatives on our trip to China."

After James finished speaking, Scholar Jia stepped forward again, his eyes fixed on Dr. James. "Dr. James, may I ask the purpose of your visit to China this time?"

James smiled and replied, "We have two objectives for being in China this time: one is the exchange of Sino-American ancient culture, and the other is to help a friend of our Oriental Antiquities Research Society recover a lost ancestral artifact."

Scholar Jia scoffed, "Dr. James, I know your American Society for Oriental Antiquities Research—it’s just an organization that tirelessly schemes to plunder and buy cultural relics and artifacts from the East for the US government, isn't it? I presume your presence in China this time is illegal entry? Helping a so-called friend recover a lost ancestral item? What exactly is this lost item? I suspect that is merely your high-minded excuse."

James spread his hands and feigned surprise. "Esteemed sir, I am not making excuses. The gentleman beside me is the delegate for my friend. His ancestor was a distinguished warlord from the late Eastern Han Dynasty. His ancestor hid a very important family treasure in this location. He commissioned Mr. Zhao Wending and telephoned us via transatlantic line to request our assistance in jointly searching for his ancestor's relic."

Fan Debiao could no longer hold back and roared, "Stuff your stinking lies! You foreign devils, no matter what grand banner you wave when you come to China, it’s all for plundering our ancient artifacts! By the beard of your grandmother, if you run into my Boss Biao, don't even think about taking a single shred!"

James’s expression flickered slightly upon hearing Fan Debiao’s outburst, but the man was clearly cunning. He smiled inscrutably again. "We Americans do not resort to cursing; you are too vulgar. I shall not stoop to your level. We are here to promote cultural exchange between China and the US and enhance friendship." He then turned his eyes back to Scholar Jia. "I know you are the leader of this small team. I wish to discuss cooperation on this underground exploration with you. Esteemed elder, what do you say?"

Scholar Jia smiled, then stated seriously, "Dr. James, on behalf of all my companions present and all Chinese people, I tell your proposed cooperation is a definitive NO. Furthermore, I intend to bring all of you to the surface and hand you over to the Chinese government. If you want cooperation, talk to the Chinese government."

As Scholar Jia finished speaking, everyone saw James’s face suddenly darken. He gave a cold laugh. "Elder sir, you Chinese have a saying: one refuses a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit. Do you really believe the few of you can stop America's psychic experts? And those few renowned Chinese masters?"

Before Scholar Jia could respond, Fan Debiao cursed again, "What utter nonsense! Damn it all, your American psychic masters are nothing! Bring it on and try! My Boss Biao can send your whole lot of Yankees home with a single move!"

James’s face turned ashen at Fan Debiao's insult. He signaled the bald man beside him with his eyes. The bald giant glared fiercely at Fan Debiao, who suddenly shivered involuntarily. Scholar Jia noticed the giant’s eyes possessed a strange, eerie green glow and secretly thought, This is bad; he was just about to warn him about the man's gaze. At that moment, Young Master Liu roared, "Insolent fiend, how dare you!" This shout shook the entire palace, it seemed. Caught off guard, everyone experienced a sharp, piercing pain in their ears. The bald giant, however, flinched from the force of the sound, suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, staggered, and fell backward. The two special operatives behind him rushed forward to support him.

James and all the Americans present stared at Young Master Liu in astonishment, except for Daoist Master Chongxu, who merely stood there with a sinister, unreadable smile.

Young Master Liu looked back at James with a cold smile. "A mere Dream Killer, using a bit of thought power and calling himself a psychic master—you Americans are truly overreaching."

James’s expression shifted rapidly. He adjusted his glasses and managed a strained smile. "Sir, he was merely caught off guard by your sneak attack. Let me show you a true master of American psychic abilities."

Saying this, he turned and clapped his hands toward the two special operatives: "It’s up to you two now."

The two special operatives stepped forward, their eyes locked onto Young Master Liu. The others heard a strange, sharp explosion from within their bodies. The two soldiers instantly doubled in size, standing there like twin black iron towers, radiating an imposing, formidable appearance.