The five grains were first discovered by the Chinese; ancient foreigners largely subsisted on meat, cheese, or fruit.

This scene must therefore depict a period in China’s primitive society.

Meaning, the "me" from that ancient time once visited China and helped the early inhabitants distinguish the five grains.

This revelation left me utterly bewildered.

In the subsequent murals, that ancient version of me was shown assisting various civilizations with shipbuilding, house construction, winemaking, crop cultivation, and the domestication of fowl and livestock.

The more I looked, the more astonished I became. Although modern people cannot precisely determine the origins of certain things, I had always assumed those were the fruits of ancient ingenuity. I never considered that so much of it was formed through enlightenment provided by someone.

In a state of immense shock and confusion, I simply sat down on the floor, propping my chin in my hands, studying the depictions while trying to rationalize the situation.

I began to feel that this ancient "me" didn't actually exist; perhaps it was merely a metaphor.

The artists who created these murals over a thousand years ago didn't know where the five grains came from, who first discovered the earliest tomatoes or potatoes, or how the first boat was invented. So, they used their imagination, concluding that some singular figure must have taught the ancestors.

This possibility is not unprecedented; stories like Shennong tasting a hundred herbs are products of people’s imagination.

Imagination is valid, and portraying a fictional figure as a sage is not inherently wrong.

However, the fact that this person looks exactly like me—that is the most inexplicable thing of all.

A coincidence... it must be a coincidence, I told myself, wiping the sweat from my brow.

I turned to look at the other murals again, realizing that the figure sketched in those rough lines wasn't exactly like me either.

This crude drawing style simply couldn't capture minute details of the facial features or characteristics. The reason I identified the figure as myself was because, in one specific mural, that person was wearing clothing identical to the enormous golden mural outside on the wall. Although the stone mural was less detailed, several patterns on the armor and the overall design of the armor matched precisely.

And the reason I believed the massive mural outside depicted me was partly due to the similar silhouette, but most crucially, because I had seen the spectral image of this person before.

There is, in fact, a loophole in this logic: perhaps everyone at that time wore similar armor, which led me to mistakenly assume the figure in the mural was me.

Thinking this through, I felt a strange sense of relief, though I couldn't pinpoint why.

Letting out a long breath, I continued deeper into the chamber.

Suddenly, a dark object appeared at the very back of the stone room.

Startled, I shook my fluorescent wand vigorously, causing the dim glow to brighten considerably.

I then moved my steps toward the elongated object lying horizontally on the floor.

As I drew slightly closer, I realized the object was a coffin forged entirely of gold.

This coffin bore no ornamentation; it wasn't shaped like a traditional Chinese coffin, wider at the top and narrower at the bottom, nor did it feature the human-faced carvings or clothing depictions seen on an Egyptian pharaoh’s sarcophagus.

This coffin looked more like a golden chest. If it weren't nearly the height of a person, one might mistake it for a long box filled with treasure.

The three fluorescent wands in my hand—blue, green, and purple—cast their light upon the mirror-like outer surface of the coffin, distorting the reflections into strangely ethereal colors.

My own face was warped into a comical appearance by the uneven golden surface.

If this were anyone else, seeing such a pure gold coffin, they would undoubtedly shout in excitement about finding a fortune and immediately try to open it.

But I hesitated, even stepping back a few paces.

Watching the distorted shadow reflected on the coffin, beads of sweat lined my forehead.

"Who is lying in this coffin? Myself?"

A bizarre thought suddenly surfaced, making my toes curl inside my shoes.

"Open it or not?" I clenched my right hand tightly, an internal struggle commencing.

But looking at the thick golden lid, layered with a heavy coat of dust, I reasoned that the coffin lid certainly wouldn't be light. First, I should try to see if I could push it open.

So, I moved forward again, approaching the golden sarcophagus.

I intended to use my hand to wipe away the dust settled on the coffin's surface, checking for any patterns or locking mechanisms.

However, the moment my hand touched the golden lid, I felt a distinct warmth.

I flinched in alarm, quickly retracting my hand, afraid that the coffin might be electrified, causing the temperature.

I checked my hand; it wasn't burned. Only then did I breathe a sigh of relief.

But this shock only deepened my confusion.

A golden coffin left undisturbed for so long should feel intensely cold, yet this one was warm.

I could make no sense of it, but without opening the coffin, there would be no answer.

This time, I didn't use my palm to clear the dust; instead, I used my sleeve to gently brush away the grime.

Soon, I discovered something different about the coffin lid.

Where I had wiped it clean, a circular pattern emerged.

This circle was nearly perfect, though slightly flattened.

The circular pattern had been incorporated during the casting of the lid, making it an integral part of the surface.

And in the very center of this circular motif were two holes, about the size of two fingers.

"What are these for now?" I murmured to myself. "Are they for the mummy inside to breathe?"

For some reason, seeing these two holes and the circle immediately reminded me of the Candle God Bronze Disks I had encountered earlier.

Humans are strange creatures. Seeing those two holes, I felt an irresistible urge to poke my fingers in to test them; they fit perfectly.

When I inserted my right middle and index fingers into the holes, I realized these small openings couldn't possibly be for the occupant to breathe, as they didn't penetrate the entire lid. My fingertips met the bottom of the small holes, where two button-like spherical protrusions offered slight resistance.

Curious, I gently pushed both fingertips downward, pressing the two small spheres.

With a crisp clack, a mechanical sound echoed from beneath the golden coffin, and the lid actually lifted upward by half an inch.

Fearing the mummy inside was about to escape, I quickly jumped off the lid, and the pain in my injured leg caused me to land flat on my face.

The pain brought cold sweat to my head. After struggling up from the ground and brushing the dirt off my clothes, I looked back, and my jaw dropped.

The lid of the golden coffin had separated from the body by about ten centimeters and was simply floating in mid-air.

And from the gap of those dozen centimeters, a blinding golden light was shooting out.