I knew the situation was grim. My initial plan was to set up devices to suppress the zombies before opening the bronze sarcophagus. But nobody anticipated the nested structure of this tomb chamber—a wooden secondary chamber hidden beneath. The sheer force of the bronze coffin dropping down had dislodged the chains and heavy locks, causing the mysterious bronze mirror to fall too. If the ancient corpse inside managed to climb out first, the tables would instantly turn against us, putting us at a severe disadvantage.

Blood rushed to my head, leaving no time for further thought. Clutching the bronze mirror, I yelled to Fatty and Shirley Yang, "Hurry up and find the tape!" As I spoke, I leaped down into the wooden chamber below (a tomb constructed of wood is called a mu guo, unlike the coffin one usually refers to).

I nearly twisted my ankle the moment I landed. The coarse, rectangular timbers were utterly rotten; stepping on them caused them to cave in, spurting black water upwards. The cold flare of a smoke grenade was still burning. In its light, I saw a layer of cold wooden coffin boards beneath the gap in the bronze sarcophagus. The lid of these boards was breached with two large holes, through which several loops of long fingernails protruded. They were bone-white and incredibly sharp; having grown so long, they were curled over. The sounds we heard earlier in the chamber were almost certainly these nails scratching against the bronze lid.

Ignoring the throbbing pain in my ankle and having no time to admire the shape of those nails, I immediately snatched the bronze mirror in my hand and pressed it into the recessed groove behind the bronze sarcophagus. I jumped onto the lid of the bronze coffin. With a sudden surge of inexplicable strength, I pushed down with both hands and feet, managing to force the sprung lid back into place.

Shirley Yang jumped into the mu guo right behind me, handing me a roll of tape. She was half a beat too late and hadn't seen what was inside the coffin. "What was in there?" she asked.

While meticulously layering the tape over the bronze mirror, I told her, "What else? Just a reanimated corpse. I don't know why this bronze mirror keeps it suppressed. It seems the moment it was removed, its fingernails started growing at an alarming rate." Fatty jumped down as well. Hearing my words, he immediately declared, "I knew that mirror was a good piece of business. When we retreat, we'll find a way to take it with us. We absolutely won't leave a single blade of grass for the enemy."

Seeing the bronze sarcophagus secured again, I figured the immediate danger had passed. I looked up at the upper chamber; it was all made of black, rotted wood, the mu guo standing less than three meters high, thoroughly saturated with water, the dampness stinging the lungs. I had originally intended for Fatty to stay above as backup, but from down here, if anything went wrong, climbing up wouldn't be an issue. Moreover, opening a coffin down here would be safer with the three of us together. So I told Fatty and Shirley Yang, "There’s another coffin in the corner of the mu guo. I don’t know if it was meant for the King, but this tomb is full of tricks. When we raise the coffin and strike it rich, we need to be careful."

With that, the three of us approached the coffin that was emitting a faint glow in the darkness. The mu guo was cramped, dark, and damp. For ease of movement, we all switched on the tactical headlamps attached to our helmets. We saw that the coffin was being weighed down by several fallen square timbers. What worried me most was that this rotten wood could collapse at any moment and bury us alive. So, I quickly selected two or three relatively solid beams from the debris and propped them up near the breach caused by the bronze sarcophagus, using them for support.

While working, I pondered: These square timbers, also known as mu fang, were originally layered tightly to form a tizou structure. How did they decay to this extent, turning the normally yellow-brown mu fang into pitch-black rot? Logically, the "King's Tomb" should be a blessed site where vital energy flows smoothly. How could it be so heavily eroded, manifesting a foul qi so strong it triggered the ominous celestial sign of a "black pig crossing the heavenly river" (hei zhu guo tian he)? Setting aside those matters, the ancient corpse showing signs of zombification inside the bronze sarcophagus alone was highly illogical. There must be something terrifying hidden deep within this millennia-old tomb.

As we quickly cleared the debris, the ancient coffin, covered by the rotten wood, gradually revealed itself. I wiped away the residue of decayed wood and mud, and the blue luminescence on the coffin became far more distinct. The entire body of the coffin was smooth as glass, like a block of mysterious blue ice from the depths of an icy sea, radiating an enchanting sheen. Fatty exclaimed repeatedly, "Damn it! Why is every sarcophagus here more valuable than the last? What... what is this made of? Jade? Crystal? Or ice?" He kept stroking it lovingly, unable to pull his hands away.

I shook my head. "I don't know. When I was an engineer, I dug rocks for years. I’ve seen countless ore slices during geological survey team visits, but I’ve never seen stone like this. It doesn’t seem like ice; aside from being extremely smooth, it isn't cold."

Shirley Yang, captivated by the bizarre coffin, had been studying it closely. She finally spoke up: "It's either blue shijingyan [stone essence rock], or a variant of crystal. They only form in deep underground layered caverns."

Ancient texts describe shijing as stone found only in valleys near the underworld. Legend holds that there is a millstone made of shijing in hell. Any person who committed heinous crimes, upon falling into the netherworld, would inevitably be ground by that millstone. A black dog resides below, waiting to lick the resulting meat paste, while the remaining scraps turn into flies and mosquitoes, swatted in the mortal world, forever denied reincarnation.

Of course, that is superstitious lore, but one thing is certain: this ethereal blue shijing stone, though dazzling, is inauspicious and ill-suited for a coffin, especially one meant to inter noble bones.

This was clearly a "Ghost Coffin" from the underworld. What was its purpose? Why was it hidden in this dreary, damp mu guo beneath the chamber? Mu guo structures, unsealed and unadorned, were common around the Western Zhou period but rarely used by the Qin and Han dynasties. We had already found ten "Longevity Candles" in the chamber. Would the remains in this "Ghost Coffin" correspond to one of the ten bodies? There were too many unanswered questions, and we had no leads whatsoever.

Shirley Yang glanced back at the bronze sarcophagus and said, "The coffins in the King's tomb are exceedingly rare and baffling. The more inexplicable they are, the more it feels like walking on thin ice. We must find a breakthrough point to fully unveil the secrets buried in the Tomb of the Condensing King."

I told Shirley Yang and Fatty, "It’s better to sever one finger than wound ten. Let's use the strategy of breaking them down one by one. Raise the coffin, get the treasures. We’ll start now. Rig the tripwires and let's see if the Condensing King is indeed inside this ghost coffin."

Fatty immediately rolled up his sleeves: "Raising coffins and getting rich—that’s my specialty. I practice it even in my sleep. Don’t fear a thousand moves, fear one move mastered. You two go set up the tripwires. I, Fatty Master, will take on the entire job of opening this coffin alone."

I patted Fatty's shoulder. "Well said, Commander Wang! In raging seas, a hero’s true colors shine through. But remember, hold a pure heart while being prepared for anything. While you’re seeking artifacts, you must guard against corpse transformation. You must grip both sides, and both must be firm. Also, ancient coffins harbor qi. Remember to check your gas masks beforehand, and don't, like last time in the Northeast... forget your gloves." After my instructions, we separated to begin. We found three red lines dipped in cinnabar. Shirley Yang, always curious about zombies, asked me, "Old Hu, why are zombies afraid of red cinnabar?"

I replied to Shirley Yang, "You’d have to ask that fortune-telling blind man for the specifics; I’m not entirely clear. But I suspect the cinnabar isn't the key. The principle is this: you use the ropes to block the coffin opening. If the corpse inside is stiff and can’t bend its joints, it can’t lift its limbs, so it can’t get out. I’ve only encountered a ‘corpse fiend’ sealed by a talisman before. I don't know which is tougher compared to a true zombie, but it looks like we’ll be meeting a zombie today, as we still have to open that bronze sarcophagus later. As for whether there’s a zombie in this ghost coffin, that’s harder to say. In any case, we prepare for the worst and block it off beforehand."

As I spoke, I had the "tripwires" ready. Shirley Yang, based on the locations of the two sarcophagi in the mu guo, lit two candles in the corner. I signaled Fatty. Fatty immediately used his sharp "Yin-Probing Claw" to scrape away the cinnabar lacquer sealing the joints of the "Ghost Coffin." The material of this ethereal blue coffin was a rare, specialized stone. If classified, it would fall under the category of stone coffins, alongside jade coffins. Such stone coffins had no nails; they were sealed by interlocking stone tenons and mortises. The Mojin Xiaowei’s "Yin-Probing Claw" functions like a multi-tool, one end specifically designed for extracting these stone tenons.

The "Ghost Coffin" had seven tenons—one at the head, three on each side, and none at the bottom. Fatty worked with gusto, prying them open one after another. In moments, he had levered the lid off. Beneath the lid was another layer sealed with fish glue, long since fused shut. We had to use the needle point of the "Yin-Probing Claw" to carefully grind it open bit by bit.

Finally, Fatty shouted, "Done!" Shirley Yang and I stood by, ready. As soon as it was clear, we quickly stretched the three cinnabar "tripwires" across the coffin opening. Once the lid was open, the visibility within the mu guo did not drop. This indicated that there was no foul qi emanating from the coffin. I thought to myself, Strange. Could there be no corpse inside? Or perhaps the ghost coffin isn't perfectly sealed, and the noxious essence from the decayed corpse diffused through the seams? I hurried to look inside the "Ghost Coffin."

Upon looking, I felt a wave of relief. There was indeed a body inside. A male corpse lay flat, wrapped in white brocade from the neck down, exposing only the head. The body was relatively well-preserved; the facial muscles hadn't even collapsed or withered. It could almost be described as lifelike. However, his death posture was truly terrifying: both eye sockets were sunken in, forming two black-red holes. His eyeballs had been removed. Lacking eyes, his features made him look incredibly ghastly and frightening.

Just as I was about to examine him more closely, Fatty used his "Corpse-Entangling Rope" to loop around the deceased's head, pulling it up so the corpse’s head lifted. Then, raising his hand, he swung back and forth, administering seven or eight loud slaps to the dead body.

Shirley Yang and I stared blankly, wondering which of Fatty’s wires had snapped. Had he been possessed? We rushed to stop him and asked what on earth he was doing.

Fatty’s face was covered by a gas mask, so I couldn't see his expression. I only heard him ask back inexplicably, "Haven't you two noticed yet?"