Chapter Forty-Eight: The Trap

However, when Mr. Xu's great-grandfather heard this, he simply smiled and refused, saying, "I've lived through most of my life, experiencing birth and death, and none of it has amounted to much. Even if I were granted another ten years, what would it matter? If, by dying, I can bring some luck and wealth to my descendants, then my passing at least has some worth!"

The spirit insect, upon hearing this, instantly turned furious. "Then don't blame me for devouring you alive, inch by inch, consuming your flesh and blood, and making sure you remain trapped between life and death!"

With that, the spirit insect made a motion as if it were about to bite. Yet, Mr. Xu's great-grandfather, steadfast even in the face of death, bit off his own tongue and, within moments, died upright in the cave.

Seeing this, the spirit insect cursed bitterly, "Even in death, you rob me of a fine place for cultivation! What bad luck! I've searched for decades to find such a spot, only for it to be taken by a dying old man. Truly unfortunate!"

Thus, the spirit insect had no choice but to abandon the land whose spiritual energy had been claimed.

From that day forward, every generation of Mr. Xu's family would, upon reaching eighteen and adulthood, unexpectedly receive a windfall. And from the day this fortune arrived, their wealth would continue to flow, right up to today, when, under Mr. Xu's direction, their riches have only grown. In truth, one windfall alone would suffice for a lifetime of comfort and security—but who ever thinks they have too much money? Alas, otherwise they wouldn't have made tomb raiding their trade.

At this point, An Wu sighed on behalf of his employer. "Could it be that Xu Qiang has relied on tomb raiding to amass his wealth?" Fang You asked.

"Not entirely," An Wu replied, "but Mr. Xu Qiang has indeed obtained much land and property through unusual people and methods. Tomb raiding is only one aspect."

As he spoke, An Wu glanced around. "Speaking of which, we should be nearing the main tomb."

At that moment, everyone noticed sunlight streaming in from the cave behind them. Rising to their feet, they followed the tunnel and emerged onto a patch of land planted with rare and valuable flowers, beneath a massive open cavity that seemed to be a hundred meters deep from the surface.

"What a grand design!" said Fang Zhong, the Mountain-moving Daoist. "As the saying goes, 'A rich man's fish at the front, and a pavilion of fortune at the back.' This is a Feng Shui pavilion deliberately built before the main tomb. The opening above allows sunlight to reach these precious flowers, keeping them alive."

"The way this cavity is constructed is skillful. It must not be easily discovered, yet sunlight must pour in. In ancient times, tombs with pavilions like this often had a dry well above, disguising the cavity as a well mouth, so as not to attract suspicion."

So sometimes, dry wells and caves do indeed connect to tomb chambers, and if there's an entrance through a dry well, there must be a grand tomb below—only the wealthy could afford to create such an opening.

Bai Ling looked around, finding the place indeed exceptional. After a thousand years, the flowers still flourished. Clearly, Cao Aman’s tomb was a fine burial site. But it made sense; as a son of an emperor, he would naturally be interred in a good spot, benefitting his descendants.

"So that must be the entrance to the main chamber?" An Wu pointed ahead, where, amid the sea of flowers, stood a pair of seemingly half-open doors.

"Why do the tomb doors look so unstable? Could they have deteriorated over time?" Fang You wondered aloud, gazing at the nearly collapsed doors.

"Let's go take a look," Fang Zhong declared, stepping forward with Fang You, Bai Ling, and An Wu close behind.

Examining the tomb doors, Fang Zhong saw that the latch had corroded and broken, and the stone doors themselves were badly damaged.

"No matter how strong the mechanism, it can't withstand the wear of time," Fang Zhong said, spreading his hands and pushing the stone doors apart.

But at that instant, unnoticed by all, two strands of iron wire wrapped around the doors snapped as Fang Zhong pushed. In that moment, dozens of arrows launched, and Fang Zhong, unable to dodge, took them full in the chest. Suddenly, a massive spear shot forth, impaling Fang Zhong and pinning him to the ground.

When the volley subsided, calm returned.

"Fang Zhong!" Fang You and Bai Ling rushed to him.

"I didn't expect to be fooled by such a simple trap, using broken doors as cover. How did I miss it?" Fang Zhong managed a bitter smile.

"I'll save you!" Fang You quickly used the Maoshan finger technique to seal Fang Zhong’s blood flow, preventing him from bleeding out.

"I have medicine for wounds!" Bai Ling, descendant of the Mojin clan, produced a white bottle from his clothing.

"Daoist, hang in there!" An Wu urged, watching the Mountain-moving Daoist who had braved danger alongside him, now dying at the threshold of the main tomb.

"It's too late," Fang Zhong sighed. "This tomb is well constructed, and the little Maoshan Daoist has some skill, but in this burial chamber, there's no way to treat me. Sealing my blood vessels might give me a few more hours, but you can't get me out of this deadly tomb."

He pulled a yellowed notebook from his back. "This 'Mountain-moving Daoist Arts' is the sum of my life's learning. I meant to leave it for future mountain-moving practitioners. If you can, help me complete this book."

He coughed up blood as he spoke.

Fang You, holding the half-finished 'Mountain-moving Daoist Arts,' gripped Fang Zhong’s hand. "If I ever have the chance to study mountain-moving arts, I promise to finish this book."

"Then I have no regrets. Go and break into the main tomb. Danger lies ahead. Be careful..." As Fang Zhong finished, his voice faded away, leaving only weak sighs.

"What should we do now?" Bai Ling asked.

"Move forward," Fang You said, tucking the 'Mountain-moving Daoist Arts' into his coat and looking resolutely at the dark entrance to the main tomb. "Too many have died already. I want to see the face of the tomb's master. If we don't press on, those who came before—Master Qiu, Daoist Fang—will have died for nothing. We must continue!"

With the chamber now quiet, Fang You drew a deep breath and strode in, scanning the surroundings for further traps.

"Let’s go," Bai Ling said, following close behind. The Mojin clan were not cowards; since they had come, they would not leave empty-handed. No matter what, they would venture into the main tomb to face its challenges.

Meanwhile, behind them, An Wu quietly sent a text message: "Location transmitted, boss..."