Everyone else quickly followed behind Qin Fei and Zhen Jiu’er, walking into the mausoleum.

The mausoleum’s ventilation, of course, wasn’t because whoever built it had left a vent of their own—it was because Xiao Chengyuan and Yan Qiu had found a spot and dug it open, letting air circulate.

Once inside, though it still felt somewhat stuffy, at least breathing wasn’t difficult.

However, the structure inside this mausoleum was rather strange.

“This is… a tomb within a tomb.” Xiao Chengyuan and Yan Qiu were blocked in front of another large gate.

By the time Lu Beicheng and Jiu’er and the others arrived, Xiao Chengyuan was still studying the characters on the gate, not yet having fully worked them out.

“Young Master Jiu, there are characters on this stone door.” Yan Qiu brought the torch closer, letting everyone see clearly.

Jiu’er’s heart jolted, and she immediately went over.

“Professor, these characters…” He Muling, out of habit, still turned to the professor for answers whenever something couldn’t be figured out.

Professor Xiao finally felt he had found a place to put his expertise to use, and strode up to the stone door.

After glancing sideways at Xiao Chengyuan, Professor Xiao then looked at the characters on the stone door.

Fortunately he hadn’t taught all his skills to that traitor Xiao Chengyuan, or else the old saying would truly have come true: teach the disciple and starve the master.

Professor Xiao had studied archaeology for so many years that his attainments in the field were not something a young man in his twenties could match.

“Our Emperor’s reign eternal, his achievements grand and glorious, enriching the nation and bringing peace to all, sung of by the four…”

Professor Xiao read it out to everyone, one character at a time.

But by the end, Zhen Jiu’er hadn’t taken in a single word.

Because after one glance, she had caught sight of the final line of characters: In honor of Our Emperor, Northern Emperor, Not Mu…

Mu Mu!

This was Mu Mu’s tombstone!

Her eyes turned red in an instant.

Something surged uncontrollably in her chest, surging until she couldn’t breathe, surging until her whole body turned cold, her limbs went weak—her legs buckled, and she nearly fell to her knees.

Qin Fei was standing beside her. By the time he noticed something was wrong with Jiu’er, the little girl’s vision had already gone dark, and she pitched forward.

“Little Jiu’er!” Qin Fei immediately reached out to catch her.

But someone was faster than him.

The instant Jiu’er collapsed, a silver chain flicked out, and Jiu’er landed right in his embrace.

“Miss Zhen…”

“Jiu’er…”

“Miss Jiu’er…”

“What happened? Was she poisoned?” Yan Qiu hurried over, looking at Ren Qiqi. “Quick, check on her.”

But Lu Beicheng gave no one a chance—he tapped his wheelchair, and it spun around, heading swiftly back toward the mausoleum entrance.

In truth, when he’d seen those four characters, “Northern Emperor, Not Mu,” he too had felt his blood surge violently, his own breathing growing unsteady.

It wasn’t because of any lingering poison in the mausoleum’s air—it was another kind of pain, one that carved at the heart.

An inexplicable pain, almost unbearable.

“Everyone go outside and rest first!” Yan Qiu immediately called for everyone to leave.

Lu Beicheng was the first to reach the mausoleum’s mouth. He lowered his head to look at Zhen Jiu’er, her eyes tightly shut, her face deathly pale. His brow furrowed, and in his deep eyes, something stirred that no one could name.

Did you, too, faint upon seeing those four characters?

Northern Emperor, Not Mu… Not Mu…

He forcefully closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there was no trace of any ripple left in their depths.

He held Jiu’er in his arms and carried her away from the mausoleum.

Behind him, he left only words with no warmth in them: “Call Ren Qiqi over. Have her examine her.”