Standing directly beneath the magnificent, palatial structure resembling a "Heavenly Palace," one felt utterly diminished. This specialized architecture embodied the absolute essence of classical Chinese architectural style and achievement, serving as a direct reflection of imperial politics and ethical concepts. Prototypes of palaces existed as early as the Xia Dynasty, reaching their zenith during the Sui and Tang periods; subsequent dynasties like the Ming and Qing could not surpass this height, merely achieving greater refinement in minor details.

Although the "Ancient Dian Kingdom" was situated remotely in the barbaric southwest, considering itself a realm beyond civilization, it was originally part of Qin territory, with royal power consistently held by Qin people. The "Tomb of King Xian," constructed during the reign of Emperor Wu of Han, naturally fell within the overall framework of Qin and Han architecture, adhering to Qin royal conventions in both external appearance and layout, while absorbing advanced Han Dynasty construction expertise for its materials.

Below the main hall stretched a long Jade Stairway, aligning with celestial numbers, totaling ninety-nine steps. Due to the terrain, this stairway, though broad enough, was exceptionally steep, extending directly upwards from the shimmering bands of light below, reaching the hall doors. The main hall was supported by one hundred and sixty nanmu pillars as its core, topped with golden-yellow glazed tiles, flanked by soaring, coiled-dragon golden cassia trees, and set upon a base of exquisitely carved white marble balustrades. Furthermore, the painted beams and decorated rafters, the purple columns and golden girders, all demonstrated the utmost extravagance possible.

All of this perfectly matched the descriptions in the Zhen Ling Pu. In this perilous, sheer cliff location, where layered rocks overlapped, palace tiers were embedded into the precipice, rising sequentially. Amidst the illusion of height and mist, there was a thrilling sense of precariousness, of nearly floating. The three of us, dizzy and awestruck, ascended the Jade Stairway along the concave stone plank walkway. Looking out, we saw golden rooftops nestled among rocks and pavilions, waterfalls draping down from the ancient cliff paths, and ancient trees and strange vines surrounding deep pools. Rainbow-colored lights flickered all around, and the distant sound of birdsong from the secluded valley created a detached, ethereal scene, completely cut off from the world. Had we not previously witnessed numerous chilling sights hidden within this deep valley, we might truly have mistaken this place for a celestial realm.

But now, regardless of how marvelous the "Heavenly Palace" appeared, the immediate sensation was one of pervasive malevolence. No matter the ornamentation or the luxury, it was a palace built for the dead, a grand tomb. And countless people must have perished to construct this immense sepulcher—as the saying goes: ten thousand cut wood so that one may ascend to heaven.

The white jade steps hung suspended over the deep, secluded valley, both steep and slick. Perhaps due to a shift in the center of gravity, the entire palace leaned outward toward the abyss by several degrees, giving the impression that it could topple into the chasm at any moment. Those with less courage would find it impossible to approach the "Heavenly Palace." Fatty had turned ashen-faced and speechless even on the plank path; now, standing at this extreme height upon the treacherous white jade steps, his spirit nearly fled his body. He could only manage to ascend slowly while being supported by Irley Yang and me, his eyes squeezed shut.

Reaching the end of the Jade Stairway, I suddenly noticed: the air here was completely different from the air beneath that layer of Dragon Aura. Below the Dragon Aura, moisture saturated everything; all objects, including the vines and the plank walkway stones, were damp as if just washed by rain. Yet, where we stood now in the Heavenly Palace, it was extremely cool and dry. The vast difference in humidity between the high and low points was astonishing, likely due to the Dragon Aura effectively sealing off the moisture from below. This condition had preserved the palace architecture, keeping it seemingly brand new, an environment where clarity and murkiness remained separate. Indeed, it deserved its title as a divinely favored nexus, subtle and profound, masterfully shaped. The celestial formation of the "Heavenly Wheel Dragon Aura" was truly extraordinary.

This section of the Jade Stairway was already difficult to traverse, and supporting Fatty made it immensely challenging. The three of us dragged and scrambled our way to the platform by the gate. I borrowed the Vajra Umbrella from Irley Yang and approached the main doors. Beside the entrance stood a stone stele, beneath which knelt a grotesque beast, posed as if supporting the tablet upon the clouds. Several large characters were inscribed on the stele; their strokes were too complex for me to recognize any, though I suspected they were ancient seal script.

I had to ask Irley Yang to decipher them again. After only one glance, Irley Yang pointed to the characters one by one and read them aloud: "Profound and again profound, the gateway to all mystery (Laozi?). The Soaring Cloud Heavenly Palace, the Hall of Meeting Immortals." So this above-ground structure of the ancient tomb had a name: the "Soaring Cloud Palace," and one of its halls was called the "Hall of Meeting Immortals."

I couldn't help but laugh and curse, "King Xian must have been utterly mad about achieving immortality, thinking that by building a palace on a sheer cliff face, he could invite deities to convene, play chess with him, and impart the secrets of eternal life."

Irley Yang replied to me, "Which emperor hasn't pursued longevity? But after the Qin Emperor and Emperor Wu of Han, most later rulers understood that it was merely a dream like light and shadow; birth, aging, sickness, and death are the laws of nature, impossible for even the true Son of Heaven to defy. Even understanding this, they still wished to enjoy the splendor and wealth of their living years after death, which is why they placed such importance on the layout and design of their mausoleums."

I told Irley Yang, "If they hadn't squandered their wealth extravagantly on so many funerary objects, where would the grave robbers—the Mojin Xiaowei—even exist?" As I spoke, I raised my leg and kicked open the palace doors. The doors were merely closed, not locked, but extremely heavy. Even after three kicks, they only opened a narrow gap, barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through. The interior was pitch black; nothing could be discerned.

Although past experience suggested that structures like the main Ming Lou rarely contained traps or hidden mechanisms, I was unwilling to take the unnecessary risk, still worried about an ambush. As soon as the door was cracked open, I immediately darted aside, bracing myself against the frame and raising the Vajra Umbrella to shield my vital points. After waiting for a moment and seeing no unusual movement within, I went back to push the gap open a little wider.

I nodded to Fatty and Irley Yang, signaling that they could enter. All three of us carried our weapons and lighting equipment and jointly pushed the door fully open. However, due to the angle, even though it was daytime, the sunlight only managed to penetrate the entrance area. The vast interior of the palace remained dark and gloomy, forcing us to rely on flashlights to illuminate the path ahead.

As soon as we stepped over the tall redwood threshold, we saw dozens of colossal statues lining both sides of the doorway. First were two imposing bronze Bixie lions, each taller than a man. The one on the left, the male, had a golden sphere tucked under its paw, symbolizing supreme power over the cosmos.

The one on the right had a lion cub under its paw, symbolizing endless descendants—this was the female lion.

The bronze platforms on which the lions crouched were carved with phoenixes and peonies. Combined, these three symbols represented "King"—the King of Beasts, the King of Birds, the King of Flowers.

Although stone lions are common, bronze ones are relatively rare, but not nonexistent, so this was not strange in itself. What was peculiar was that this pair of bronze lions was placed inside the gate rather than outside. For whatever reason, this arrangement was highly unconventional.

Behind the lions stood a pair each of Xiezhai, Hou, elephants, Qilin, camels, and horses, in that order. Behind the bronze beasts were thirty-six figures in total, comprising military officials, civil officials, and meritorious ministers. The bronze beasts were difficult to categorize, but the postures and attire of the bronze figures were very strange; they seemed less like attendants serving the king in court and more like they were performing peculiar movements in some sort of ritual. The mass of bronze beasts and figures encircled the throne at the deepest part of the hall, like stars orbiting the moon.

Fatty remarked, "Why is this palace completely different from the Ming Lou structures we visited at the Thirteen Tombs? Although the golden covers of the Thirteen Tombs were palatial in style, they didn't have these bizarre bronze figures and beasts."

I said to Fatty, "It's not that strange. They all aimed to serve the dead as they served the living; the forms differ because the dynasties are different, but the objective is identical. Didn't we see piles of large roof tiles when we toured the Han tombs in Shaanxi? Those were remnants of collapsed palace structures above the Han tombs. The wooden beams, unable to withstand a thousand years, have long since decayed into air, while the bricks and tiles remain.

The phrase 'forms vary with the dynasty' is just something I say to comfort myself. As for what these statues, standing silently in the palace for a millennium, signify, I haven't the foggiest idea. However, I don't want this hint of suspicion to translate into psychological pressure for Fatty and Irley Yang. I hope I am merely overthinking things.

Upon seeing the extraordinary ambiance of the hall, Irley Yang commented, "For a tomb of the Dian Kingdom, a mere southwestern barbarian territory, to possess such grandeur! In contrast, the treasures in the tombs of the central powers, like those of the Tang and Han Emperors, are calculated in units of several thousand tons—one can only imagine the scale. It's a pity they were all severely damaged long ago; we modern people will never have the chance to see them, left only to imagine."

I replied to Irley Yang, "Not all royal tombs possess the grandeur of King Xian's. King Xian clearly made no provisions for his descendants. Perhaps his lifelong ambition was simply to be buried within the Dragon Aura so he could ascend to immortality. The obsession with seeking immortality and alchemy was strongest during the Qin and Han eras."

Since the "Soaring Cloud Palace" was the above-ground facility associated with the tomb's underground chambers, not the burial vault itself, we felt relatively relaxed, not as tense as if we had entered a hidden mystical chamber. Amidst our discussion, we walked deeper into the palace, the light from the entrance behind us seeming very distant. The hall was unnaturally quiet; the less movement there was, the more sinister and terrifying it became.

My palms began to sweat. After all, this place hadn't seen a living soul in at least two thousand years. Yet, there was none of the damp, musty smell of decay; it was relatively dry. A thick layer of dust coated almost every object—dust originating from the palace's own bricks and tiles, each layer covering two millennia of history, untouched by any external debris.

The gold-inlaid, jade-encrusted throne sat at the deepest recess of the "Hall of Meeting Immortals," separated by a Golden Water Pool, but lacking a white jade bridge connecting them. This pool was not narrow, and the water within had long since dried up. Illuminating it with the "Wolf Eye" flashlight from this distance, we could only vaguely discern a coiled red jade dragon upon the throne; it was impossible to tell if King Xian's effigy sat there.

Seeing this, Fatty cursed, "Do all leaders like to distance themselves from the masses? How the hell can you discuss court affairs when you're so far from your ministers? Come on, let's go take a look!" He hoisted the "Chicago Typewriter" and jumped first into the meter-deep pool.

Irley Yang and I followed him down into the dry Golden Water Pool. We found a wooden boat shaped like a lotus leaf inside; it seemed one had to embark on this vessel to cross the pool previously. Apparently, King Xian did enjoy playing games.

Before we even climbed out on the other side of the Golden Water Pool, we couldn't restrain ourselves, wildly sweeping our "Wolf Eyes" beams across the opposite end. There seemed to be no statue on the throne, but the area behind it was extraordinary. The three of us grew increasingly puzzled and scrambled eagerly onto the opposite bank. My heart grew uneasy: Had I, Hu, with my supposedly infallible foresight, completely misunderstood the concept of the Heaven's Collapse? Did the collapse have nothing to do with the plane crash? Was King Xian's corpse still in the tomb?