Restoring the tomb chamber to its original state presented considerable difficulty, yet Zhou Huan managed to sketch out a restoration plan based purely on his memory. He emphasized that the vertical shaft where the vine had been should be repaired in its exact original position and style, paying close attention to whether any skeletal remains lay beneath the soil right there—that was where they should focus their search.

In truth, this world was simple enough: as soon as Zhou Huan finalized the restoration sketches, Mr. Wang would dispatch men to carry out the work. Financial concerns were entirely unnecessary; Mr. Wang would even oversee the construction himself.

“Bingyuan, go back immediately and arrange for the others to investigate separately. I will handle the finishing touches here. Later, I’ll have someone look into the affairs of the Long family. You two just focus on historical research. Having heard Mr. Wang just now, stick to investigating the history surrounding the pre- and post-Liberation eras.” After Zhou Huan gave the orders, Mr. Wang smiled.

“Master Zhou, you’re investigating the people surnamed Long?” Mr. Wang inquired.

Zhou Huan nodded silently. “Because this Long family member is clearly connected to the events here, we must investigate him. Also, there is the body of a tomb robber here that we still haven’t found.”

“Oh, so your intention to restore the chamber to its original state is to uncover these clues, is that it?”

Zhou Huan nodded. Mr. Wang paced back and forth on the spot. After a moment, he stated, “Investigating a person’s lineage is easy; I can get it sorted in three days. I’ll assign someone to that task. However, the tomb robber’s body—it must be skeletal remains by now. I heard the excavation by the archaeology team didn’t turn up any unusual bones. That part is rather tricky; I have no immediate solution for that and can only investigate slowly.”

Zhou Huan actually wished to conclude this matter quickly because people had already begun dying due to the Crimson Moon. He didn't know the relationship between the tomb’s occupant and the Crimson Moon, nor whom the curse here was aimed at. Thus, Zhou Huan felt compelled to end things as swiftly as possible.

At that moment, a man resembling a bodyguard ran in from outside the chamber. Upon entering, he leaned down to whisper a few words into Mr. Wang’s ear. Following this, Mr. Wang simply told Zhou Huan he had to leave. Without a pause, he hurried out with the bodyguard.

Seeing that it was an emergency, Zhou Huan didn't press for details. He then took another look around the tomb chamber, found paper and pen, and began sketching the room's layout. Afterward, he took measurements in his own manner and finished recording them.

“Hah!” Zhou Huan exhaled deeply, then murmured to himself, “Tomb chamber, Yellow Cripple, what on earth are you all up to? And that Persian uncle—what are these things, what are they all doing?” It was clear Zhou Huan was growing anxious.

As Zhou Huan sat alone in the tomb chamber, gazing up at the patterns on the ceiling, he suddenly felt a stream of warm air slowly drift toward him. Not long after, this warm air abruptly turned strangely cold, carrying a certain chilling Yin energy. Zhou Huan sensed something was wrong. The tomb chamber was about to change. The patterns on the ceiling began to emit faint sounds. The cold intensified, and a nauseating stench filled the air.

“Master, watch out!” Along with the sound, Shi Bingyuan rushed into the chamber from the outside. Shi Bingyuan vigorously brandished his peach-wood sword, sending more than a dozen talismans flying out in quick succession. Sparks erupted where the talismans struck the ceiling patterns.

In Zhou Huan’s sight, the lines and shapes on the patterns transformed into venomous snakes, which burst into showers of sparks under the assault of Shi Bingyuan’s charms. The heads of the snakes began falling to the ground like raindrops.

Shi Bingyuan immediately rushed to Zhou Huan’s side and pulled him away. “Master, are you alright?”

Zhou Huan gently rubbed his eyes and looked back up at the ceiling. Strangely, only a single, ice-cold water droplet dripped down from the canopy, landing precisely on Zhou Huan’s brow. Instantly, a bright red mark appeared on his forehead. Zhou Huan’s body began to heat up, a warmth so intense he couldn't bear it. He could only adjust his breathing, sit cross-legged on the floor, and chant the Upper Clarity Heart-Calming Mantra.

After a long while, Zhou Huan slowly recovered from the searing heat. When he opened his eyes, faint light from the approaching dawn was filtering in from outside the chamber. He slowly stood up and observed that the interior of the room looked the same, yet the spot where the broken vine had been was now covered in a wall of withered creepers. The entire chamber reeked of dense, rotten vegetation.

“Bingyuan, Shi Bingyuan!” Zhou Huan called out loudly, but there was no response. Zhou Huan grew tense. His apprentice had just saved him, and now he had vanished. He hurriedly rushed out of the chamber and looked up at the sky. The rising sun, haloed by the morning glow, shone upon the moon that was about to set, turning the moon a deep crimson. A profound sense of uncertainty washed over Zhou Huan, for he knew the most peculiar place here was this tomb chamber. If he was unharmed, then the person inside with him must have been affected. And only Shi Bingyuan had been inside while he was meditating. Zhou Huan immediately ran back into the chamber, called out twice with no reply, and then pulled out his phone to make a call.

The call was to Shi Bingyuan, but all Zhou Huan heard on his end was a busy signal. Inside the chamber, from within the mass of withered vines Zhou Huan had seen earlier, the ringing of Shi Bingyuan’s mobile phone could be heard. Zhou Huan’s eyes became bloodshot; he knew Shi Bingyuan must have been entangled by that colossal mass of vines.

He immediately pulled out his small iron shovel and his specialized copper coin sword, slipped on his irreparably damaged Heavenly Silkworm gloves, and swung both arms left and right, hacking down more than ten times. Wherever the vines were severed by Zhou Huan’s strikes, streams of black-yellow viscous fluid oozed out, emitting the pungent stench of decaying wild grass.

Zhou Huan hacked at the vines while continuously calling Shi Bingyuan’s name. He chopped for a full half hour before the massive outer layer of vines was cut away. Gradually, Shi Bingyuan’s hands began to emerge from behind the vegetation. His hands were now a mottled blue-purple, and his fingernails were pitch black.

“Bingyuan, Bingyuan!” Zhou Huan kept shouting. When he finally paused, he could clearly hear Shi Bingyuan’s faint breathing.

“Mas...ter!” Shi Bingyuan gasped out weakly, immediately followed by a thick spout of black blood ejected from his mouth.

Zhou Huan was heartbroken. This was his most accomplished disciple. Shi Bingyuan had already been a master in the handling of funerary matters when Zhou Huan took him in. Now, watching his beloved apprentice trapped, how could he not be distressed?

“Bingyuan, hold on a moment longer, Master will hack away these vines immediately.” As he spoke, Zhou Huan severed two more vines, but just as he did, Shi Bingyuan spat up two more mouthfuls of black blood.

Shi Bingyuan’s eyes had lost focus, and his body was growing increasingly limp; his blue-purple hands were turning black.

“Master, stop chopping, it’s useless. Look at my stomach. Every vine you cut is like severing one of my blood vessels.”

Hearing Shi Bingyuan’s words, Zhou Huan lowered his head and looked carefully behind the overlapping layers of vines. Two black vines, as thick as fists, were piercing Shi Bingyuan’s abdomen. Zhou Huan involuntarily staggered two or three steps backward.

“Bingyuan, what happened to you? What exactly occurred just now?” At this moment, Zhou Huan truly lost his composure, as he had never encountered such a scene before. The thick bundle of vines he had cut lay scattered on the ground, but as Shi Bingyuan’s breathing accelerated, large new clusters of withered vines began to sprout from the cut areas.

Suddenly, Shi Bingyuan’s voice grew louder. “Master, don’t rush to save me; I’m temporarily stable. You should go and break the curse of this tomb. I have already merged with these vines. After saving you, I noticed the Crimson Moon in the sky shining intensely, and I knew something terrible was happening. I intended to return and pull you away, but I found the aura around you suddenly became clear and transparent, like a giant mirror. The red light that was supposed to strike you was reflected by your aura onto the withered vines, causing them to grow rapidly. I tried to cut them, but instead, I was caught and bound tightly against the wall by the vines.”

Upon hearing this, Zhou Huan knew he must have briefly entered a state of higher comprehension, which explained the mirror-like aura he emitted.