Xianyue staggered backward several steps, repeatedly admonishing herself not to look, yet her eyes betrayed her, drawn to the sight before her. Her outstretched hands gradually inched together, forming fists that cracked ominously.
She bit her lip, distinctly tasting the salty bitterness in her mouth. The chilling wind and a lingering sting heightened her awareness, sharpening her senses. Alone in this dire moment, no matter how fearsome the shadows, there would be no outstretched hands to save her. She had never placed her faith in the supernatural, dismissing notions of past lives and divine intervention; life was but one precious thread, and she would not relinquish it—no hellish lord could claim it without her consent.
If avoidance was futile, she would confront her fears head-on. Xianyue had always been a person capable of cruelty to herself. She spread her hands, opening and closing them repeatedly, as if calming her racing heart with each gentle contraction.
Her eyes widened as she fixed her gaze on the vast pit ahead, measuring three fathoms in length and width, filled entirely with the dead. Logically, this mausoleum had been constructed centuries ago, and the bodies buried here should have decayed long ago; yet they remained eerily well-preserved, their skin uncharacteristically smooth. As Xianyue shifted her weight, she noticed directly north of the pit a colossal sarcophagus, grander than any she had glimpsed previously. Before it lay a crimson plaque, boldly inscribed with the name "Hua Tianqing."
Xianyue froze, her previously suppressed terror billowing forth like smoke on the wind. The thriving commerce of the Zhou dynasty had flourished comparably to the zenith of feudal China. While the practice of human sacrifice had been abolished during the Ming dynasty, she understood that such customs might still exist in this era. However, witnessing the reality was a stark contrast to her imaginings—a visceral shock to her senses.
In the dim light, a cold gust swept through, chilling her skin beneath her thin garments and raising goosebumps. The ethereal glow of the night pearls cast a gentle illumination upon the intricately carved main mausoleum, blanketing it in a serene glow.
The vast chamber was eerily vacant, and across the central pit, a corridor stretched into the distance, adorned with elaborate carvings. The entire underground palace was constructed around the four mythical beasts: the Azure Dragon to the left, the White Tiger to the right, the Vermilion Bird to the south, and the Black Tortoise to the north, each guarding its respective direction, likely intended to suppress the malevolent energies.
Within the pit lay both men and women, their lifespans historically short. Most appeared to be around twenty years old; the men were strikingly handsome, and the women, breathtakingly beautiful. The most haunting among them were the infants, with skin so pale it was almost translucent, their eyes wide with terror and despair. Yet, curiously absent was any trace of defiance—a bitter resistance that simmered in the depths of their souls.
A faint white glow hovered above the bodies, contrasting starkly with the surrounding darkness. Though Xianyue did not believe in the supernatural, she felt a chill creep down her spine at the sight of these corpses, some buried alive and others possibly dismembered. The overwhelming resentment they harbored surely lingered, their forms undulating with the dim white light, their disheveled hair drifting like wraiths.
Xianyue took a deep breath; the pearls sparkled, revealing everything clearly in the desolate space. Hua Tianqing, the founding hero of the Zhou dynasty, could not have been interred in this mausoleum without additional exits. Hua Chuxue had resigned herself to her fate, but there was no need for deception; another exit surely led to the Valley of Death.
The final resting place of Hua Tianqing was undoubtedly the main mausoleum. While it may not connect directly to the Valley of Death, it would certainly lead elsewhere. Given the oppressive atmosphere of the main chamber, she preferred to face the harrowing hail of arrows instead.
Xianyue instinctively focused on the immense sarcophagus, its surface intricately carved with various totems: Qilin, Ao, and many others known only from ancient texts. Crouching low, she examined the totems closely, their designs inlaid with multicolored gemstones, shimmering brilliantly like the evening sky at dusk. The gems glowed with a translucent radiance, reminiscent of a blood-stained sword aimed directly at the crimson plaque, its tip sharp as iron.
In a moment of instinctive reaction, Xianyue closed her eyes; the dazzling red was too blinding, piercing her vision painfully. She hesitated for a moment, then with determination, bit her lip, stepped firmly forward, and pressed her finger against the illuminated protrusion.
At that moment, she felt like a gambler. Unlike most who risk treasures, she wagered her very life. If victorious, she would escape this place; if not, the stakes could be fatal. Yet, with no alternatives available, she resolved to take the plunge. A smirk graced her lips; sometimes, her stubbornness was indeed maddening.
The chilling wind rose, the once-claustrophobic main hall began to shift and transform. Doors flung open simultaneously, and Xianyue glanced toward the gaping stone entrance, ready to flee toward the White Tiger's side hall. She recalled that Bai Zhanfeng had mentioned the founding monarch of the Chu Kingdom favored the White Tiger, which served as his steed. The stone door cracked open only slightly before slamming shut, the Azure Dragon, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise following suit. In the same instant, an unassuming stone was suddenly replaced by a massively heavy iron door. Realizing the danger, Xianyue bolted toward the door's exit with the speed of lightning.
Above the pit, the gray-white hue transformed, and the previously undulating corpses grew eerily still. Moments later, a thunderous sound erupted as the vast pit split open, revealing an opening large enough for two to pass through, as if anticipating something.
The pillars supporting the main hall swayed violently, stones cascading from above without order, and the exquisitely crafted decorations along the corridor shattered midair.
"Bang! Bang!" Xianyue's heart raced in sync with the reverberations. To her left and behind, iron doors blocked her escape. As dust rose, she coughed twice, and the large stones that had fallen abruptly ceased their descent. Yet, she dared not relax; instead, her heart floated uneasily in her chest, refusing to settle.
As the stones landed, a barrage of arrows followed, their cold, glinting blades reflecting the eerie light of the night pearls, their tips glistening with dark poison. The exits on her left and right began to seal shut, surrounded by arrows coated in lethal toxins. They struck the ground, producing a hissing sound, even the damp dust instantly turned to ash.
Xianyue's heart jolted, and her expression shifted; she was aware of the numerous traps within the mausoleum, yet she never anticipated the intricate interlocking mechanisms of the Chu Kingdom's tomb would be so lethal—each strike a potential death sentence. Having faced death once before, she felt no panic, instinctively bending, lifting, and dodging as she moved with increasing calmness, her face taut, her narrowed eyes sharp as a blade.
Faintly, she discerned the sound of rushing water. A surge of hope filled her; glancing back at the vast pit that once held a thousand corpses, she noted that only a fissure large enough for one person remained. The sound of water, subtle yet distinct, emanated from within.
Wherever there is water, there is bound to be an exit. Perhaps those who constructed the mausoleum had the foresight to provide themselves with an escape route. Regardless of its purpose, she was now in dire straits. The narrow gap before her slowly began to close, the right iron door sealed shut. Only the path ahead remained open. Should she become trapped in an iron cage, even her agility would not save her from a harrowing fate.
Suppressing her growing terror and nausea, Xianyue made no further hesitations, plunging into the pit that had once contained a thousand bodies. The narrow gap continued to close, and the last sound she heard was the fourth iron door crashing shut with a deafening thud, shaking her eardrums.
Surrounded by utter darkness, her outstretched hand failed to find anything; it felt as if she had become blind. Half of Xianyue's body was submerged, leaving only her neck and clothing visible. She pressed her hands against the walls on either side; the river water was frigid. The earlier evasion had drained much of her energy. With her right hand against the wall, she drifted downstream, eyes closed, gasping for breath, accompanied only by the bone-chilling water.
The darkness enveloped her like a deluge of ink, overwhelming and suffocating, while above, a faint white light flickered. Images of the piled corpses filled her mind; their wide, unblinking eyes seemed to bore into her. Each one was a soul bound by resentment toward the nobility, seeking to drag her into their company.
Panic seized Xianyue's heart, and she kicked her feet and stroked her arms with renewed vigor, desperate to escape this cursed place. Yet the relentless darkness clung to her, refusing to release its grasp.
In the darkness, something brushed past her, triggering an instinctive response. Xianyue extended her palm, channeling her inner energy; the more obscured the surroundings, the sharper her hearing became. Something splashed into the water nearby, creating a subdued yet distinct sound. She pulled her.