Behind the sluice gate was a long, narrow ramp sloping steeply downward. Shirley Yang tossed down a cold flare, and it rolled for a long time before finally coming to rest, its light already too dim to make out where it had stopped.

I sucked in a cold breath. If this was indeed a tomb passage, it was impossibly long. There were no corpses nearby. If this ramp was trapped, those who had entered before us must have left some trace.

Even so, we dared not be careless; one wrong step could mean utter annihilation. I walked slowly, closely observing my surroundings. Something felt subtly wrong, but I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.

Shirley Yang turned to me and said, "Have you noticed? There isn't a single rat here."

I nodded. "Exactly. I felt something was off earlier, but I only realized it when you mentioned it. The sluice gate is half-open, and there's a stone bridge connecting to it. With so many rats in the underground palace, how is it that we can't see a single one here? ...Not only are there no rats, there isn't even any rat droppings or fur on the ground. Could it be that these animals, guided by instinct, sense that this place is a forbidden zone filled with danger?"

Shirley Yang didn't reply. She walked a few steps further down, then suddenly turned back to me. "Can you tell me the truth—have you ever been involved in tomb robbing?"

I was utterly blindsided by her question and was momentarily speechless, unsure how to answer. Since everyone accompanying us on this trip was involved in archaeology, and while archaeology and tomb robbing might seem similar in some respects, they are fundamentally incompatible, like fire and water. This matter of mine was highly confidential—how could she know?

Seeing my silence, Shirley Yang said, "I was just guessing, it suddenly occurred to me to ask. You seem to understand so much about those lost Feng Shui secret arts, and you look completely familiar with all sorts of ancient tombs—more familiar than you are with your own backyard. It really does give the impression that you're in the grave-robbing trade."

I cursed her silently in my heart: Wicked woman, she was just guessing! She nearly gave me a heart attack.

Outwardly, however, I feigned calmness and said to Shirley Yang, "This is a family skill. Before the Liberation, my grandfather was a renowned Feng Shui master in all the surrounding villages, specializing in directing ancestral graves. My father was a soldier his whole life and never picked up these skills. I only have a bit of a hobbyist's interest. Don't you know what kind of person I am? I just love to delve into things. Comrade Lei Feng's spirit of being a 'nail' ultimately boils down to this spirit of deep study..." As I spoke, I diverted the topic, trying to avoid any further discussion about Feng Shui or grave robbing.

We walked for a long time before finally reaching the end of the ramp. There was no path forward. The surrounding space was exceptionally vast, but right beneath our feet, the path simply ended. The ramp terminated at a platform where hundreds of colossal-eyed stone figures stood sentinel. The edges of the platform dropped off into sheer, steep cliff faces, and looking up, we couldn't see the ceiling—only an impenetrable blackness.

Ahead lay an enormous underground void, whose true dimensions were impossible to gauge. A powerful spotlight capable of illuminating twenty meters couldn't reach the far end. Had we reached the terminus? Yet, upon closer inspection, this platform area bore no resemblance to the subterranean caverns depicted in the murals of the Tianzhuan Dao.

Shirley Yang remarked, "Perhaps the Queen's sarcophagus is still down there. After she was interred, the Jingjue people must have destroyed the sections connecting to this area so that no one could disturb the Queen's peace."

I laughed. "That's perfect then, let's just head back..." Before I could finish, I saw Shirley Yang take out three cold flares and toss them off the edge of the platform. She wanted to gauge the depth below.

We both crawled to the edge of the platform and peered down. The flares landed not far below; it turned out the drop was not significant, only about thirty meters.

In the dim light of the flares, we could see a large expanse of flat ground below, piled high with mounds of gold and silver artifacts, pearls, gemstones, Xun bones, and jade. I gasped, "Damn it, so all this good stuff is down here! It looks like the coffin containing Queen Jingjue must be below too. The only problem is there's no way down."

At that moment, Shirley Yang found a rope ladder at one end of the platform. It was attached to a large rock that seemed fused with the platform itself, dangling down the side. Both ends were secured with old-fashioned safety locks.

Shirley Yang observed, "This was probably left by explorers who came here before. Although the rope ladder looks sturdy, it’s quite old. Let's go back to the stone bridge first and fetch the rope ladder we brought ourselves."

I said, "That's certainly the easier option, but have you considered why the explorers who were here previously didn't take these treasures? Those foreigners aren't exactly harmless. Call them explorers if you want to be polite, but to be blunt, they are thieves who came to China to steal. And you know, thieves don't leave empty-handed."

Shirley Yang countered, "I know what you mean. You're saying they would never leave a treasure trove empty-handed, and the fact that all these riches remain untouched means there must be traps down there—mechanisms or fierce beasts."

I affirmed, "Exactly. That's the meaning. Nothing good ever comes for free from the sky. The things that look simplest often turn out to be the most complicated. Do you remember what Anliman said about an ancient curse in the Black Desert? Anyone who takes treasure from the Black Desert will be buried there forever along with the riches."

Shirley Yang responded, "That legend is also recorded in the Great Tang Records on the Western Regions. The city buried in the Black Desert is called Jieluojialai. I don't think the curse is the main issue; Professor Chen and his students are archaeologists; they won't casually touch these things. What worries me most is your portly partner—you need to keep a close eye on him."

I flared up angrily, "What do you mean by that? Do we look like thieves? I'll have you know that even though we are poor, our spirits are lofty. I can guarantee with my life that if I say these things below cannot be touched, my buddy absolutely won't take a single thing. You should worry about yourself first. Back in the year of Gengzi, when the Eight-Nation Alliance came to China to murder and burn, they stole so many of our treasures. Wasn't America one of those eight nations? What right do you have to think we look like thieves?"

Shirley Yang’s face turned white with anger. "So you think I look like a thief?"

I immediately realized I had overstepped; after all, she had saved my life. I swallowed my temper and offered a mumbled apology. We then retraced our steps along the same path. This time, neither of us spoke, and the atmosphere became frighteningly heavy.

Professor Chen and the others had grown impatient waiting. Seeing us finally return, they eagerly asked for details. I took a kettle of water from the underground river, drank some, and then described the situation below. Shirley Yang added a few more details.

When Professor Chen and his students heard that there was indeed a hidden paradise below, and the Fatty heard about the vast quantities of burial goods, they were overjoyed and couldn't wait any longer, immediately setting off into the ancient tomb's sluice gate.

I walked last. As I entered, I touched that thousand-jin sluice gate. Damn it, if that thing dropped, none of us could get out. But with this much dynamite, I didn't need to worry; the thought brought me some reassurance. I lowered my head and stepped into the tomb passage.

The group bustled on the platform preparing the rope ladder. I figured persuading them now would be useless, so I only managed to warn the Fatty not to touch anything down below. I didn't believe in any damned curses, but I couldn't give Shirley Yang an opening—we had to bring honor to our countrymen.

The Fatty assured me, "Don't worry, Old Hu. I’m a decent man; I wouldn't stoop that low. This time, no matter what’s down there, I won't take even a single rat's hair." He then added, "If I’m taking anything, it’ll be on the way back up."

After the rope ladder was secured, I still went first as the vanguard. Initially, I thought that because there were no rats nearby, perhaps there were those strange black snakes below, which kept the rats away.

But after descending, I found a deathly silence. Forget rats or venomous snakes, there wasn't even a tiny insect. Several bronze lampstands were affixed to the nearby rock walls, fashioned in the shape of 'lamp slaves' kneeling with offerings in their hands. The lamp oil in the bowls had long since burned out. These bronze lamps stood one after another; it was impossible to count how many there were. Just taking one out to the market, given its craftsmanship, age, origin, and history, it would be worth a fortune.

Standing atop the pile of treasure, my resolve wavered. It truly required immense willpower to resist the urge. The only way was to avoid looking at the fine objects and try to distract myself. I blew my whistle, and those waiting above began to climb down the rope ladder in succession.

Every person who descended was stunned by the mountain of exquisite treasures. Such an abundance of rare and exotic items—all plundered from various Western Regions nations by the Jingjue in their heyday. Even Professor Chen couldn't name every single piece, but one thing was certain: every item was priceless.

The Fatty’s eyes glazed over; he had completely forgotten his promise to me on the platform and reached out to grab a jade wine pot nearest to him.