Lu Zong watched the unsuspecting Ma Xiong from the side, feeling a pang of sorrow for him.

Just then, a burst of gunfire suddenly erupted from outside. Ma Xiong's heart tightened, and he cursed, "Damn it, who the hell dares to fire? Don't they want to stay in this business?" He started to move toward the exit, but as he flipped open the tent flap, he saw a round, white-fumed projectile hurtling straight toward his forehead. Startled, he plopped down onto the ground. The bullet zipped past the crown of his head, grazing his scalp and drawing a thin line of blood, before finally embedding itself in the opposite pillar with a thud.

Ma Xiong swore, "What the—tomb robbers! They're trying to loot this tomb. You guys stay put, I'm chasing them down."

With that, he dragged out a large bundle of gunpowder and firearms from under the bed, gripped them in his hands, and bolted out of the tent. Gunshots immediately rang out outside.

Lu Zong glanced at the Fatty and asked, "Fatty, did you arrange this too?"

The Fatty spat back, "Arrange my ass! That bullet nearly took my head off. Damn it, I have to get revenge for this." Saying that, he hoisted two armloads of grenades from the ammo crate, selected a sniper rifle, and charged out.

Lu Zong quickly bundled the overly frightened Han Chong under the bed, grabbed his own weapon, and followed them out.

Indeed, the outside was swarming with figures clad entirely in black. Ma Xiong and the others had already been driven back to a small ridge opposite the camp. It was clear these people were organized.

He saw the scientists and professors who had been excavating the tomb also dragged out, held hostage by the black-clad figures, trembling uncontrollably, unable to move an inch. Then, the leader of the black-clad group spoke, "Don't worry, we only want the valuables, not your lives. Once we've taken enough, we’ll leave. If any of you dares to fire a single shot, these people will die instantly."

When they first arrived, Lu Zong had vaguely heard talk of a local gang called the Black Clothes Gang. It seemed these were them. Lu Zong dared not fire, afraid of alerting the others inside the tomb.

There were about a dozen of them this time, all masked strongmen. It looked like this tomb chamber was lost—what a magnificent tomb it was.

The leader shouted to a few men beside him, "Group One, follow me. Group Two, you guard the hostages and the main gate; make sure no one gets in."

With that, the black-clad boss and seven or eight of his men went inside, leaving another seven or eight outside to stand guard.

At that moment, Ma Xiong, who was hidden in the valley behind, spotted Lu Zong near the tent. He nodded to him, and Lu Zong nodded back.

They exchanged a rapid series of hand signals, instantly understanding each other's intent. They had learned these signals back on the Vietnam battlefields. Ma Xiong’s plan was clear: everyone fire simultaneously. Lu Zong was to take out the two nearest to him, Ma Xiong would handle the two on the far side, and Ma Xiong would assign the remaining few to his own men for disposal.

Then, at a signal from Ma Xiong, several gunshots ripped through the sky, virtually simultaneous. Instantly, the targeted men dropped. Silently. On closer inspection, the bullets had struck each man squarely in the forehead with 100% accuracy. They died on the spot; brain matter oozed from the bullet holes, mixed with a thin, crimson tinge, much like the first time for young maidens.

Lu Zong rushed forward to pull the hostages into the tent. Seeing no gunfire erupting from inside the tomb, he assumed those inside hadn't noticed the commotion outside. He quickly signaled for Ma Xiong and his team to join them.

Lu Zong peered into the dark opening. All the lights inside had been shut off. These guys were clearly seasoned hands; they knew to turn off the lights to obscure vision inside.

Lu Zong asked, "What now, Ma Xiong? Should we go in?"

Just then, an ancient, wizened old man approached, his voice heavy with sorrow: "You... you must catch those people. This great tomb is the largest I have ever seen in my life; I have never witnessed a tomb this vast. You must bring them all out."

Ma Xiong instantly flared up. He forcefully shoved the gun in his hand into the old man's grip and pushed him toward the entrance: "Fine, fine. If that's how you feel, you go down and rescue them then."

The old man fell silent, shuffling back to stand among the hostages.

The Fatty sliced his own finger open with a razor blade. Seeing the blackened blood, he said, "Ma Xiong, their recklessness has already provoked the tomb's master. We should leave this place immediately. Why don't you organize everyone to get out quickly? Look up at the roof of the tomb."

With that, he pointed toward the ceiling above Cao Cao’s tomb.

The group followed the direction of the Fatty’s finger and saw a faint, eerie mist seeping through the top of the structure, swirling ceaselessly above, resembling two massive dragons circling the tomb's apex.

Lu Zong asked the Fatty, "What is going on?"

The Fatty performed a series of quick finger gestures, pretending to be deeply knowledgeable, and said, "It seems we've broken the Feng Shui formation here."

Ma Xiong urgently asked, "What do you mean? Do you, Fatty, actually understand Feng Shui?"

The Fatty replied, "While I'm not an expert, a grave robber wouldn't know absolutely nothing, right? Look, Cao's tomb is surrounded by smaller graves, all positioned slightly higher. As they say, to observe the mountain, first observe the water; the runoff from those higher areas naturally flows here. Coupled with the circular terrain—a slight hilly shape—it’s a textbook 'Golden Dragon' layout, what’s known as the 'Gold Water Array.' This array is easily disrupted by external disturbances. Look, those small surrounding graves have already been dug up—the dragon's scales have fallen off; how can it possibly remain calm? Plus, that gunfire just now has likely shaken loose the accumulated Yin energy that’s been stagnant here for so long. We should leave quickly. Who knows what might happen here? I certainly don't think those people hiding inside the tomb will meet a good end."

Just as Ma Xiong was preparing to leave, his phone suddenly rang. Seeing it was Lu Sha, he quickly answered. On the other end came Lu Sha’s rapid, breathless voice: "Ma Xiong, this is bad. The incantation on that slip of paper has been deciphered. It reads: 'Queen’s Tomb, Cursed Upon Entry. To Lift the Curse, Enter Cao’s Tomb for the Answer.'"

Ma Xiong asked anxiously, "What exactly does that mean? I don't understand."

Lu Sha explained, "It means anyone who enters the Queen's tomb will certainly be cursed, and the only way to break the curse is to go inside Cao's Tomb to find the answer. Oh, right, the day before yesterday, someone came looking for me—that company commander we met in Xinjiang—asking about that piece of paper. I ended up telling him the answer. Heh heh, that guy was very strange."

Ma Xiong gripped his phone tightly and roared into the receiver, "What? What did you say? That company commander visited you the day before yesterday? What did you tell him?"

"I told him the story as a myth or legend. That idiot then told me mysteriously that he was also someone under a curse and came here today to ask for that slip of paper. I saw he had a lot of men with him, and with his coercion, I had no choice but to give it to him. But don't worry, it's just a myth. Look, aren't the few of us still alive and well?" Lu Sha said apologetically.

"What? You gave them the map?" Ma Xiong bellowed.