Then a small team emerged, taking out oddly-shaped shovels and quickly beginning to dig. Li Yuncheng had come to recognize this group during the journey—they were Mu Si’s subordinates. They hadn’t appeared on the great ships before, only suddenly joining the procession after entering Yannan. Usually keeping a low profile, who would have thought they were being reserved for this very moment.
Li Yuncheng was naturally wary of Liaodong people and never mingled with them, but Feng Huan felt he had a bond of shared hardship with Murong Yi from their time among the demon tribes, so he struck up conversation with Mu Si: “These are your people? How do you even have such talents?”
Mu Si crouched beside the large pit that had been dug in mere moments. Hearing this, he snorted and said: “Family scholarly tradition.”
Feng Huan didn’t understand this remark, and Mu Si wouldn’t elaborate further. Among Murong Yi’s subordinates, the Embroidered Uniform Guards were just an organization he used to amuse the old man, not his true confidants and followers. While the world knew that the Sun family had been Liaodong’s wealthiest, that Old Master Sun was a business genius who profited from everything he touched, no one had considered where the Sun family’s first fortune came from when they appeared out of nowhere. Mu Si had only learned by chance after following Murong Yi for many years—it came from tomb robbing.
Therefore, when Old Master Sun entrusted his family business to his grandson, he also handed over his old associates to Murong Yi. Among them were no few rogues and scoundrels engaged in all manner of trades across the three teachings and nine streams, with the purpose of ensuring Murong Yi could utilize talents from all quarters.
This was one of Murong Yi’s secret weapons. These people had always operated among Liaodong’s towering mountains—this was their first time leaving Liaodong. Mu Si sighed inwardly, thinking how people said marrying a wife turns one’s heart outward, but who had someone like Murong Yi who, before even marrying his bride, couldn’t wait to lay bare all his assets for her.
The tunnel was quickly completed—wide at the top, narrow at the bottom, until at the very bottom it was only wide enough for one person to descend. But not everyone went down. The presence of the noble scions, aside from one or two useful individuals, was merely to serve as a screen. If discovered, these people’s family backgrounds and reputations could be used to placate Yannan’s side—for the You father and son to smoothly take over Yannan, they couldn’t afford to offend the court’s distinguished ministers.
Those who descended were Li Yuncheng and Feng Huan—the former carried by Mu Si, the latter hauled by one of the Crown Princess’s Nine Guards. The black-clad diggers remained expressionless, first waiting at the tunnel entrance for a while until the air cleared, then lighting fire sticks. Only after confirming the fire sticks could burn brightly did they descend in sequence.
Feng Huan stared wide-eyed in the darkness, thinking of the miscellaneous books he’d read before, including several stories about grave robbing and tomb digging. They all said imperial mausoleums and royal tombs were filled with layers of mechanisms and sinister layouts, and in those stories, corpses invariably became zombies, with ghosts and monsters emerging endlessly. Today he could personally experience a Yannan royal tomb—how many rice dumplings might he encounter?
Li Yuncheng wasn’t as simple-minded as Feng Huan and was quite nervous. “The gentleman does not speak of strange forces and chaos”—he didn’t believe in zombies and ghosts, but he knew these imperial mausoleums were always full of mechanisms: flowing sand, massive stones, pitfall traps, flying blades—impossible to guard against everything. One mistake could cost his life. Yannan was known for its toxins and poisons, so the royal tomb might be even more difficult to penetrate.
However, that group of black-clad people in front walked as if returning home, strolling leisurely. One person walking ahead suddenly raised his palm, and the others immediately stopped in perfect coordination. The frontmost person suddenly kicked the wall hard, and Li Yuncheng and the others heard grinding sounds as if something rotated in a circle. Another person stepped forward, jamming his sharp rod into a certain spot, followed by a series of rushing sounds—like flowing water but heavier than water sounds, quickly fading into the distance. Listening, Li Yuncheng clutched his heart, discovering for the first time that sounds could be so murderous.
Only after complete silence returned did he want to ask but hesitate. Feng Huan, however, asked without reservation what had just happened. Mu Si replied matter-of-factly: “There’s a mechanism within these double walls—should be two diagonal walls. Step on the trigger and the walls flip over, separating and crushing people. If you escape that trap, there’s another layer of quicksand and mercury at the end of the double walls. When they flow out, they’ll pile higher and higher in this narrow passage until no one can escape. That kick triggered the mechanism’s pivot point, making the double walls flip in reverse direction, actually widening the passage. That rod punctured the layer between the quicksand and mercury, mixing them together so they flow away through the now-reversed hollow walls.”
Feng Huan listened with a blank expression, muttering that it didn’t seem like much. But Li Yuncheng heard the chill behind it. The method of breaking through sounded simple, but finding pivot points and locating hidden layers—how was that easy? These life-and-death matters where the slightest error meant total failure, yet these people handled them so casually. Who knew how many graves they’d actually dug.
For a moment he thought: the Crown Princess held deep feelings for this Liaodong heir, and being open and honest by nature, she probably never suspected her lover. But this heir killed brothers and harmed fathers without mercy, and now even had talents prepared for grave robbing. If he used his relationship with the Crown Princess to stir up troubles in Da Qian, how could Da Qian have peaceful days?
This thought flashed by, but he dared not dwell on it, much less show it on his face at this moment.
The group of black-clad people ahead walked and broke through mechanisms along the way, turning what should have been a perilous path into a calm journey. Li Yuncheng and Feng Huan just heard constant gurgling and chirping strange sounds throughout, not daring to speculate what was happening, until they walked through the long passage, past side chambers, and saw the main burial chamber between the left and right side chambers.
In the main burial chamber were two coffins—should be the Prince of Yannan and the princess who had died earlier. Li Yuncheng identified the one belonging to the Prince of Yannan based on the coffin’s specifications. The black-clad people put on gloves and masks, working together to push open the first outer coffin, revealing a black jade coffin within—there should be another layer inside.
The second layer felt more resistant to push than the first, whether due to adhesion from too much time or some other reason. The coffin wood made tiny squeaking sounds as it scraped. The third layer was a black-gold coffin that somehow still gleamed faintly despite being sealed in this tomb chamber for so long. The material was neither metal nor jade—very peculiar. Feng Huan curiously touched it, and the nearby black-clad person, not expecting such boldness, moved to slap his hand away but was a step too slow. When Feng Huan touched the coffin wood, it felt ice-cold, but the texture was strange—his fingertips seemed to detect some subtle unevenness that eyes couldn’t see.
The coffin was covered with bright yellow silk that had already rotted away. This coffin lid was even harder to push open, making harsh, grating sounds with wood chips falling. After pushing halfway and finding it immovable, they could fortunately see the corpse inside.
Feng Huan didn’t dare look, closing his eyes and bowing randomly in all directions while muttering nonsense about meaning no disturbance and having no taboos. Li Yuncheng stared without blinking, seeing that the corpse preservation hadn’t been done well—it had rotted considerably, making him frown.
Before coming, the Crown Princess had instructed that there were marks on the corpse that could prove the old Prince of Yannan’s identity. If the corpse seemed wrong, it could serve as evidence. But now that everything had rotted like this, where could they find any marks?
The evidence was that the old Prince of Yannan had once had an old leg injury. Later, he spent great sums seeking famous doctors, and that divine physician, with godlike skill, had actually put nails into the prince’s leg bones, ensuring the Prince of Yannan could walk without hindrance afterward. The old people in the Prince of Yannan’s mansion and the You clan members all knew this.
To see the nails in the leg bones, they had to drag the corpse out. Several black-clad people took out various tools, checking inside and outside the coffin to confirm it was safe, then shook out cloth strips to bind the corpse’s shoulders and arms. One person stood on each side, gripping one end of the cloth strips, calling out: “Lift!” and pulling together.
A series of clattering sounds as they dragged out the skeleton.
Li Yuncheng hadn’t yet clearly seen whether there were indeed nails in the leg bones when he noticed something black clinging to the skeleton’s feet—thin and long, as if they’d torn off a layer of skin from something. The more they dragged out this side, the more black stuff was pulled off that side. The people dragging the bones also noticed something wrong and stopped, taking a closer look with drastically changed expressions. One of them snatched the fire stick someone was holding high and threw it into the coffin while another person violently pushed Li Yuncheng and Feng Huan backward.
But he didn’t push Feng Huan, who had also seen the black skin dragged out with the Prince of Yannan’s skeleton and curiously moved forward to look, causing the pushing black-clad person’s hand to miss its target.
With a hissing sound, the fire stick fell into the coffin but didn’t burn. The fire stick rolled around with a humming sound, and suddenly the entire coffin dispersed!
The coffin became like black pulp and murky flow, instantly scattering and spilling across the floor, transforming into countless black lines flowing into the cracks between floor bricks and stones, flowing toward everyone’s feet as loud buzzing sounds erupted from all directions.
Someone screamed: “This isn’t a coffin—it’s an insect coffin!”
Li Yuncheng was greatly alarmed, remembering vaguely hearing the master in his mansion who was skilled in such arts mention that insect coffins were unique to Yannan. They were made using a special type of black-armored plate insect, attracted and gathered into coffin form using nine special medicinal compounds. These insects were square-shaped and orderly, with black lustrous shells that could also transform. When densely packed together, they looked very similar to cold, hard coffin wood. But insect coffins weren’t used to preserve corpses—in fact, the insects needed to eat. They would slowly consume rotting flesh, then devour white bones. In just a few years, corpses in insect coffins would leave not even bones behind, disappearing without trace from the mortal world.
And once such insect coffins were opened and disturbed, those highly venomous insects would teach the grave openers the most terrible lesson.
Only these insects were usually quite lazy and not easily disturbed.
Li Yuncheng felt ice-cold inside, only now understanding the viciousness of whoever designed this mechanism. The coffin had been deliberately rigged so it couldn’t be fully opened. To examine the corpse, one could only drag it outward, and with insects stuck to the corpse’s feet, dragging the corpse out would naturally drag up the insects too.
Even the laziest insects would go berserk if torn from their beds.
These insects could make the Prince of Yannan and all evidence of his unnatural death completely disappear from the mortal world, and could also ensure that those trying to open the coffin lid and investigate the truth of the Prince of Yannan’s death would forever remain in this royal tomb.
Several popping sounds, and everything went dark—insects flowing like overwhelming black water had already climbed onto the fire sticks inserted in the walls, extinguishing the flames.
Someone fell to the ground. Li Yuncheng thought it must be that fool Feng Huan, who had put his face close to the corpse and was nearest to the coffin.
Li Yuncheng’s ears buzzed chaotically, his vision completely black. His heartbeat first raced like drums pounding in his ears, but gradually even that became inaudible. In the instant his consciousness fell into darkness, he only had time to think: in his youth he had boasted that when he died, he should be buried like princes and marquises—his words had become prophecy, and now he truly was buried in a prince’s tomb…
In the moment before falling into darkness, he suddenly heard a familiar and foolish voice loudly saying: “Hey, why did the lights go out? What’s wrong with you all?”