After the meal, Zhuoma Yangjin remained somewhat dazed, clutching my hand tightly without regard for the many outsiders present. Her hand was chillingly cold.

Uncomfortable with public displays of emotion, I quietly squeezed her hand back.

Seeing Zhuoma Yangjin in such a state, Ba Qiyi and the others dared not say anything more for a time.

It was Qin Huguo and his group who seemed ill at ease, perhaps feeling our closeness implied favoritism, and they made excuses to withdraw.

Qin Dazhong, who appeared a rough man, proved surprisingly perceptive. He stopped Qin Huguo and the others from leaving, then smoothed things over for Zhuoma Yangjin: "It's only natural that the King cannot accept such a sudden change immediately." He followed this with other conciliatory remarks.

They were worrying unnecessarily; all we did was hold hands in public. He needn't have bothered explaining. Yet, this showed Qin Dazhong was a thoughtful, good man, even if his thinking was still rooted in the Tongzhi era.

Zhuoma Yangjin was completely oblivious to what was happening around her, woodenly just holding onto my hand for dear life.

Old Li approached, patted my shoulder, and gestured for me to comfort her.

I had no idea what Qin Dazhong had said to Yangjin; I didn't know where to even begin offering comfort, especially since I was never one for soft, gentle words!

As I stood there in a bind, Yangjin took a deep breath and resolutely addressed Qin Dazhong: "Since that is the case, take them to see. It will save them the effort of trying to investigate."

I froze, not understanding what she meant. I looked at Qin Dazhong, his face etched with hesitation: "This... this... doesn't seem right. The Old Buddha won't agree... she..."

Zhuoma Yangjin still hadn't released my hand, but now she adopted the bearing of the Queen of Guge: "The Old Buddha has long since passed away. I am the King of Guge. If I don't mind them looking, what are you worried about?"

Qin Dazhong looked distressed, his eyes sweeping over everyone present, finally settling back on Yangjin beside me. "Alas... forget it... forget it..." He sighed deeply, looking utterly dejected, as if all hope were lost. "Let's go... If we can't guard it, it won't be ours anyway..."

I felt I was beginning to understand, and an inexplicable sorrow washed over me. I didn't know if it was the intrusion of foreign memories or just instinct telling me I was about to lose Yangjin?

Zhuoma Yangjin released my hand and stepped before Qin Dazhong, bowing deeply. Qin Dazhong dared not accept it, quickly stepping aside while returning the bow, murmuring, "I dare not, I dare not."

"It is deserved," Zhuoma Yangjin said, her expression mournful, her voice thick with emotion. "You helped us guard the greatest secret."

Qin Dazhong showed shame, stammering, "No... no... this was the Old Buddha's decree. She... she..."

Zhuoma Yangjin swiftly interrupted, "Whatever her motive, I thank you." She bowed again, turned back to my side, and took my hand once more. Her hand remained cold.

"Wangmu, you wait outside with Forty-Three and Thirty-Eight. I, Luo Lian, Li Zeng, Tang Minghao, and Eighty-Seven, along with General Qin, have important matters to attend to."

The others understood the implication of Yangjin's words and promptly left. Only I, Yangjin, Old Li, Qin Dazhong, and Eighty-Seven remained in the room.

Eighty-Seven looked grave and said to Zhuoma Yangjin, "Thank you."

Yangjin’s expression dimmed, and she countered, "If you hadn't gone, could you guarantee you would have let Luo Lian go?" Eighty-Seven held absolute control and command over me; he could have used any means or connections to pry information out of my mouth. Yangjin did this out of fear that I would suffer.

A warmth spread through my heart; I was deeply moved. This was the first time someone had planned for me so wholeheartedly and thoughtfully.

"Yangjin... I..." Just as I began to speak, Qin Dazhong waved his hand dismissively, cutting me off.

"Follow me," he said, turning toward a side door on the left of the main hall.

Beyond that side door was another small cavern, kept quite clean and layered with thick, dry straw, seemingly used as a resting place.

But Qin Dazhong had no intention of resting. Inside this small cave was another simple wooden door. He led us in and immediately shut the door behind us.

The space inside was dim and indistinct, accompanied by a faint, very familiar smell. The foreign memory in my brain seemed to stir again.

"Yangjin," I said, never letting go of her hand, "I have a feeling of familiarity here."

Before Yangjin could answer, Tang Minghao added, "I feel it too. But... I've never been here before."

Qin Dazhong was greatly surprised, asking me, "How could Your Excellency feel that? This is merely a passage, not yet the secret chamber."

I couldn't see Yangjin's expression in the gloom, but I sensed a faint smile. "They are also my Guge subjects."

Qin Dazhong simply grunted an "Oh" and said no more, leading us onward through the darkness.

After turning countless corners for an indeterminate time, the familiar smell grew sharper, practically assaulting my nostrils—the pungent scent of desiccated corpses, yes, mummies, perfectly dry, showing no signs of rot.

"You're taking us to a place filled with mummies? Where human and animal corpses are stacked layer upon layer?" I started losing control over the foreign thoughts inside me again, possessing an urge to speak everything that came to mind.

Qin Dazhong stopped in surprise once more. "How did you know?"

I offered no reply. Tang Minghao took over, saying, "He was responsible for the high-level experiments; he should know more about the human aspect." Then he muttered to himself, "How could there be the smell of livestock here? Aren't those animals in the caves on the mountain outside?"

I remained silent. That intense mummy odor felt strangely intimate. Almost there, almost there! I urged myself internally.

Indeed, after two more turns led by Qin Dazhong, the area ahead suddenly brightened, revealing a massive stone door, uneven and extremely crude, standing before us.

The moment I saw that stone door, my mind roared. Unable to suppress the excitement welling up, I flung Yangjin's hand away and sprinted forward, pressing myself against the stone, running my hands over it, and shouting excitedly, "It's this! Look!" I beckoned Tang Minghao over. "I saw this stone door in the High Priest's garden!"

Tang Minghao walked over, his face etched with sadness, and murmured quietly, "How would I be qualified to see the High Priest?"

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except that we were finally home. This had been my workplace. In that moment, I was completely merged with the foreign memory inside my body.

"Someone! Someone! Hurry and open the door!" I babbled in my excitement. "Quick! Quick! I need to go back!"

Qin Dazhong walked over, fiddled with something near the bottom right corner of the door, and the stone gate groaned open.

Inside the room—no, the cavern—countless dried corpses sat or lay in the vast space, their expressions serene, not at all menacing. They were all serfs who voluntarily offered themselves for my experiments. I couldn't spare a thought for how the others behind me reacted; everything here was so deeply familiar! After being lost for so long, I had finally returned to the place where I served my King. Just one more step, and I could find the method for keeping flesh incorruptible and ageless, like the living—just one more step.

No time to waste; I must resume research immediately. It was so close!

Where are the tools? My medical chest, my apparatus, my instruments!

"Someone, someone!" I paced frantically, shouting in Tibetan, "Bring my medicine chest and tools!"

In my agitation, someone approached, gently took my hand, and called softly in Mandarin, "Luo Lian."

Yangjin's calling me "Luo Lian" was like a bucket of ice water thrown over my head. I snapped back to reality instantly. Yes, I was Luo Lian, not some artisan who would use serfs for experiments. All my excitement vanished in a flash.

At the same time, the dominant memory in my mind seemed to suddenly wither. Had he also sensed that things were no longer the same?

For some inexplicable reason, I suddenly felt pity for him.

"The King took them away, didn't he?" I could feel him pleading with me to ask this question for him.

No one could answer him (me). No one knew what he meant.

Tang Minghao pointed at the large expanse of various human mummies before him, perhaps answering my question or perhaps speaking to himself: "The King probably didn't leave. Your technique for preserving the flesh isn't as good as ours for livestock." There was a hint of arrogance in his tone. He glanced at me, then back at the corpses.

Those mummies still had skin and hair, but they looked as though their entire bodies had been dehydrated and air-dried. "The final step, just the last step," that intense thought resurfaced. But this time, I felt I could control it; it could no longer dictate my actions. It was pleading with me, begging me to ask Tang Minghao if he knew that most crucial final step.

"How is your livestock research progressing?" I didn't see him as Tang Minghao anymore; at that moment, he was merely a minor serf in charge of livestock.

Tang Minghao scoffed, his voice proud. "Didn't you see the livestock in the cave outside? That's my achievement."

In that mountain cave, the yaks and goats looked lifelike, their bones solid, their muscles vibrant. Compared to the shriveled corpses before me, the difference was like heaven and earth.

Thinking of this, the 'He' inside my body immediately wilted, never again daring to view Tang Minghao as a minor serf. Strange—I could feel his thoughts so clearly, yet he could no longer control me. Moreover, seeing that his skill was inferior, he seemed utterly crushed, even showing a desire to die.

Die? He was parasitic in my mind; how could he die?

"Yangjin!" Having witnessed his former ferocity, if he tried to command me to commit suicide, I'd be finished. Alertness flared in me. I quickly called Yangjin over, telling her my feelings and asking her to monitor me closely, to intervene immediately if anything seemed wrong.

Yangjin looked at Tang Minghao, held my hand, and remained silent for a moment, deep in thought.

Tang Minghao ignored everyone else and stopped speaking. He walked over, reached out, and touched some of the corpses. After a long pause, his expression grew dark again, and he sighed, "What good is having the flesh if the spirit power is gone? They are nothing but walking dead." He sighed twice more and plopped down onto the ground. "This is just a storage room for incomplete, substandard products. This is not what the King wanted."