Neither Huo Qi Lang nor Xu Baozhen were skilled at interrogation. After slapping the Lu couple twice, they knocked them unconscious before getting any information. In their haste, they didn’t know who their trusted confidants were or who had carried out the murderous conspiracy.
From Lu’s wife’s mad ravings, Bao Zhu guessed that Xiao Ran’s life was hanging by a thread and they couldn’t delay any longer.
Huo Qi Lang said: “That old man is wearing mourning clothes—could it be that he killed Miss Xiao?”
Bao Zhu said urgently: “No elder wears mourning for descendants—that’s not proper, especially when their family has deep hatred for Xiao Ran.” She thought for a moment and grabbed an injured guard to interrogate: “Who is Lu Tingfang mourning for?”
The man cried: “The master’s elder brother died in Chang’an two months ago. The whole family is in mourning for him.”
Bao Zhu’s heart stirred. Looking at Lu Tingfang’s black-trimmed hemp clothes, they conformed to the deepest mourning rites. Could Lu Songzhi be dead?
But this matter had no direct connection to Xiao Ran’s disappearance case. She paced back and forth anxiously, reciting the complete “Elegy” in a low voice: “How vast and desolate the wild grass, the white poplars also rustle mournfully. In the harsh frost of the ninth month, they send me to the distant suburbs. No one dwells on all four sides, the high tomb stands tall and towering. The horse neighs toward heaven, the wind itself is desolate. Once the dark chamber is closed, it will not see morning for a thousand years. A thousand years without morning—even the wise and accomplished are helpless. Those who came to see me off each return to their homes. Relatives may still grieve, but others are already singing. When death comes, what is there to say? I entrust my body to the same mountain slope.”
This was Tao Yuanming’s fantasy of his own funeral and burial process, starting with the vast and mournful desolate scenery, describing in detail the high tomb, burial chamber, and grieving relatives—the atmosphere was tragic and devastating. Particularly the line “Once the dark chamber is closed, it will not see morning for a thousand years” reminded Bao Zhu of her own desperate feelings when buried alive in the underground palace.
“Could it be… could they possibly…”
Though Huo Qi Lang wasn’t very literate, all Tang people loved poetry and was deeply moved by the poem Bao Zhu recited. He said: “The horse neighs toward heaven, the wind itself is desolate—doesn’t this mean Pang Liangji (whose name contains ‘horse’) is mourning for Miss Xiao?”
Bao Zhu had a flash of inspiration and said loudly: “Exactly! They buried her alive to accompany her former husband Lu Dan!”
According to custom, whether a wife died before or after her husband, she was usually buried together with her husband. If they were in different locations, efforts would be made to move the grave or rebury them together.
No wonder Lu Tingfang refused to hand over Xiao Ran even when facing family annihilation—because he knew it was impossible to produce a living person.
Bao Zhu grabbed a guard and demanded: “Where is Lu Dan’s tomb?!”
When the man hesitated slightly, Xu Baozhen lashed out with his whisk, wrapped it around the man’s ankle, and dragged him toward the door: “We can’t waste time. We’ll ask as we go.”
Bao Zhu knew that even the largest tombs of these noble families couldn’t possibly match the scale of the underground palace where she had been buried. A living person buried inside absolutely couldn’t last long. Her heart burning with anxiety, she followed Xu Baozhen outside at a run.
Huo Qi Lang said: “Even if Senior Brother were here to dig, we wouldn’t make it in time, unless it were Fifth Senior Brother…”
The guard was dragged all the way until Xu Baozhen mounted his horse and said coldly: “Once I spur my horse to gallop, all your skin will be scraped off. Still won’t talk?”
The guard cried out: “Daoist Master, spare my life! I’ll show you the way!”
Only then did Xu Baozhen lift him up and lay him across the horse. The man pointed toward Lingbao County, and the group immediately spurred their horses into a frantic gallop.
Bao Zhu urgently asked Huo Qi Lang: “What did you mean by what you said earlier?”
Huo Qi Lang said: “In terms of tomb-reading and finding burial sites within our school, Senior Brother is naturally the most skilled, but when it comes to opening coffins quickly, Fifth Senior Brother is still first.”
Bao Zhu pondered—speaking of tomb robbing, with Luo Tuotuo’s massive build, he’d have to bend and duck to get through ordinary doors. How could such a person squeeze through a tomb robber’s tunnel?
Racing along at lightning speed, Bao Zhu discovered her donkey was performing exceptionally well. She had always been embarrassed to ride such an ugly, inferior mount when going out, but this was the first time in months she had spurred it to high speed, and it was actually no slower than ordinary horses. She couldn’t help but marvel silently.
The guard pointed in the direction of the road they had taken from the inn to Jade City. As they retraced their route, they were discussing how to contact Luo Tuotuo when they suddenly felt violent tremors like an earthquake. After a moment, a thunderous crashing sound reached them. They saw a thick column of smoke shooting skyward in the distance. The horses reared up in fright, neighing continuously, while only the donkey remained calm and composed.
Seeing the thick smoke, Huo Qi Lang exclaimed in surprise and delight: “Fifth Senior Brother has made his move! How is he faster than us?”
The group galloped to Lu Dan’s tomb site and were amazed to discover this was the very large burial mound where Bao Zhu had shot down the strange bird that morning. Luo Tuotuo had already blown off the tomb door, tearing a dark, gaping hole in the large mound.
Pang Liangji staggered out of the thick smoke carrying a petite woman in his arms, tears and black ash on his face rolling together into a dirty mess. All the Pang family attendants rushed forward, but he refused to let go, holding the woman tightly—clearly this was the missing bride herself.
While delighted, Bao Zhu was also greatly puzzled. She had been running around since morning and only now had clues after investigating—how could they have succeeded in the rescue first?
“How did you know she was buried alive here?”
Pang Liangji paid no attention, feeling Xiao Ran’s weak pulse. Too excited to speak, he held his unconscious beloved and wept continuously, softly calling “A Ran” over and over.
An attendant explained: “In response to Miss Jiu, our young master didn’t know. You instructed us this morning to search for the strange bird. We searched for most of the day without seeing anything and were about to go home. Young Master read the inscription on the tombstone and discovered it was actually the tomb of the bride’s former husband. Seeing that the soil near the tomb entrance was fresh, he felt very uncomfortable and begged Master Tuotuo to blow it open. Who knew the bride would be locked in the tomb chamber—isn’t this a heaven-sent miracle?”
The air in the tomb chamber was far less abundant than in the underground palace. Xiao Ran had already been suffocated unconscious, truly hanging by a thread. If not for Pang Liangji’s amazing intuition, by the time Bao Zhu brought people to dig open the tomb, she would have long since given up.
Looking at the large hole in the burial mound, Bao Zhu asked in amazement: “This is the power of gunpowder? Isn’t that stuff only used for fireworks? How did it not injure the person inside?”
Huo Qi Lang said: “Fifth Senior Brother’s nickname is Fire-Wielding Strongman—dismantling tomb structures is his specialty. It’s just that the explosion noise is really too loud and immediately alerts people, so unless you’re in remote mountains, you can’t normally make such a commotion.”
At this moment, a massive figure bent down and squeezed out through the tomb entrance gap. Amid the rolling smoke and dust, with strength to move mountains and overwhelming spirit, it was Luo Tuotuo who had acted to save lives today. He held an arrow in his giant palm, his face showing confusion as he strode up to Bao Zhu and handed it to her: “Is this yours?”
Bao Zhu took it and looked—indeed it was. When hunting in the Forbidden Garden, dozens or even hundreds of people often went out together. To distinguish whose prey was whose, they usually made identifying marks on the arrow shafts. Each arrow in her new quiver had cross-shaped marks scratched with her fingernail.
Bao Zhu asked in complete bewilderment: “Where did you get this?”
Luo Tuotuo said: “It was stuck in the coffin. I was the first one in—no one could have tampered with it.”
Bao Zhu looked down to count the arrows in her quiver—twenty-nine remained. She had checked when leaving that morning—a standard quiver held thirty arrows, and she had only used one shooting down the strange bird.
She was completely mystified and asked: “Was what’s in that coffin human or ghost?”
Luo Tuotuo answered: “I just smashed it open to look—just an ordinary rotting corpse.”
That mysterious bird of prey had vanished without a trace after being shot, yet this arrow was left behind in the airtight tomb, next to Lu Dan’s corpse and the missing bride.
This made no sense at all. Remembering Huo Qi Lang’s mention of rakshasa birds born from “accumulated corpse qi,” Bao Zhu felt a chill and dared not touch that mysteriously-traveling arrow again. She handed it to Luo Tuotuo, saying: “Please handle this, Master—chant sutras for salvation or whatever…”
The Pang family attendants quickly brought Old Fourth, Ghost Hand Vajra. When Qiu Ren saw the bride was still alive, he pursed his lips, carefully checked her pulse, pulled several silver needles from his bag and inserted them in her head and neck to stabilize her soul and calm her spirit, telling Pang Liangji to carry her home and nurse her well.
Qiu Ren told everyone: “Nearly a thousand people have gathered around Old Sixth’s place—almost half the martial artists of the Central Plains have come, saying they received invitations from the Setting Sun Seven Masters to come to Jade City for the ceremony. They’ve been here two or three days without even getting a drink, and now they’re making a ruckus and can’t back down gracefully. The Pang family was so frightened by the wedding incident that they dare not open their doors. Third Senior Sister is holding the line, but she’s always had a violent temper—I’m afraid she won’t last much longer before fighting breaks out.”
Bao Zhu thought that after dealing with the Lu family and rescuing the bride, there was still another group of enemies lurking in the shadows, sowing discord. If this wasn’t thoroughly resolved today, there would be endless future troubles. The Setting Sun Academy members all thought the same way and immediately mounted their horses to escort Xiao Ran home with Pang Liangji.
Seeing Bao Zhu wanting to follow on her donkey, Xu Baozhen said: “What comes next is martial world business. You’d better go back to the inn to rest.”
Pang Liangji added: “Miss Jiu has already done great kindness helping Pang Six to this point. Going there will be a sea of blades and blood—truly dangerous. We can’t involve you further.”
Seeing the heroes’ murderous aura, Bao Zhu guessed that going to Jade City meant fighting to the death. She said proudly: “What happens after has nothing to do with you. This group didn’t spare me when they set their ambush at the wedding tent and injured my subordinate. I must personally settle this grudge.”
Everyone took a moment to figure out who “my subordinate” was, thinking: Even with things said to this extent, Wei Xun can still hold back from coming out to claim her—he really can keep his composure. They also thought it was truly naive to the point of being laughable that someone would want to help the “one strike kills, vengeance doesn’t wait overnight” Blue-Robed Guest settle a grudge.
Xu Baozhen smiled coldly: “As you wish. Just don’t expect anyone to risk their life protecting you like Senior Brother did when fighting starts.”
Bao Zhu said no more, holding her head high as she rode her donkey toward Jade City.
The area around the Pang mansion was crowded with people just like on the wedding day, a black mass occupying several nearby streets and alleys. Everyone carried swords and staffs, glaring angrily. Many nearby small merchants were so frightened they abandoned their stalls and fled.
Tuoba Sanniang sat cross-legged on the wall top, cradling her white bone lute and playing “Music of Emperor Qin Breaking the Battle Formation.” Because the strings were damaged, the tune was played off-key and out of tune.
The Central Plains heroes were all puzzled, not understanding what was going on with these seven people from Guanzhong. They had invited everyone from afar but then didn’t treat them with courtesy, maintaining a defensive, hostile stance. Martial world people were accustomed to communicating with weapons and fists—few had gentle temperaments. Gradually becoming furious, shouts arose here and there, the atmosphere tense as drawn bowstrings.
Just then, dust clouds could be seen flying in the distance, hoofbeats shaking the ground with thunderous rumbling. A group of fierce-looking martial world travelers came galloping like an avalanche, and many recognized them as members of the Setting Sun Seven Masters.
Second Brother “Cavern Truth Master” Xu Baozhen, Third Sister “Lute Sound Demon” Tuoba Sanniang, Fourth Brother “Ghost Hand Vajra” Qiu Ren, Fifth Brother “Fire-Wielding Strongman” Luo Tuotuo, Sixth Brother “Swift Wind Guardian” Pang Liangji, and Youngest Brother “Silk Brocade Gentleman” Huo Qi Lang were all present. Only the Seven Masters’ leader, the Blue-Robed Guest Wei Xun who had amazed everyone at the wedding, was nowhere to be seen.
His position was taken by a strikingly beautiful girl in red robes. She rode a donkey with bow in hand, the Fish Intestine Sword that had allowed Chen Shigu to dominate his territory and rule the martial world hanging at her waist.