Chapter 12: The Underground Palace

Hong Zhaohai’s eyes were round as saucers, muscles bulging along both arms, fists clenched so tightly that veins stood out on his forehead, his whole posture that of a man bracing himself to move a mountain.

“Zhao, what in the world are you doing?” Wang Yueban stared at him, utterly baffled, and asked in a small, uncertain voice.

Hong Zhaohai’s face was grave as he shot Wang Yueban a glance but didn’t bother to respond. His eyes remained wide with fury as he muttered under his breath, reciting something that sounded suspiciously like a spell.

I tilted my head closer to listen. “Open sesame…open sesame…open sesame…”

Hearing the so-called “incantation” Hong Zhaohai was chanting, I couldn’t help but curse silently to myself: Damn it!

After a moment, Hong Zhaohai suddenly swung his arms, his fists the size of sandbags, and pounded fiercely at the bronze door.

Bang! Bang! Bang! His fists rained down on the door, relentless as a torrential downpour.

At the side, Wang Yueban was keeping count for him—one, two, three…

“One hundred and forty… two hundred and thirty… two hundred and fifty… Crack! Boom…”

As Wang Yueban reached two hundred and fifty, there was a thunderous crack. The heavy bronze door split apart and, in an instant, collapsed to the ground in a heap of fragments.

Hong Zhaohai finished his task with the air of a modern-day Foolish Old Man Moving the Mountain.

“Mother of… My heavens! Was that real, Jiang? Did I just imagine all of that?” Wang Yueban rubbed his tiny eyes hard, yelling incredulously.

But at that moment, Xueya and I were no longer focused on Hong Zhaohai—the collapse of the bronze door had revealed the burial chamber beyond!

The bronze door lay in ruins, and the underground palace behind it was suddenly exposed—a black abyss, deep and unfathomable.

The darkness seemed to exert a powerful pull, drawing me in. Without exchanging a word, Xueya and I stepped forward, heading straight into the tomb.

Hong Zhaohai and Wang Yueban quickly followed. Thus, the four of us entered the underground palace together.

Upon entering, the first thing that caught our eyes were two massive tomb guardians. I scrutinized them from head to toe and discovered that each guardian was in a completely different state.

On the left, the tomb guardian glared with bulging eyes, its mouth stretched wide in a ferocious snarl, filled with rows upon rows of razor-sharp fangs.

The guardian on the right, however, was round and plump, with an adorably silly demeanor, uncannily reminiscent of the treasured national giant panda.

Wang Yueban, shining his flashlight, sidled up to the tomb guardians and exclaimed in awe, “Jiang, look at these antiques! Even if we take nothing else, just hauling these two out would fetch a fortune, don’t you think?”

As he spoke, he slapped a paw of one guardian. There was a crisp metallic clang, and to my shock, the guardian’s paw shifted position.

Immediately, a grinding sound of gears and chains meshing echoed through the chamber, sending a jolt of alarm through me.

In an ancient tomb, that sound could only mean one thing: a trap had been triggered!

Realizing this, I didn’t hesitate and shouted at the top of my lungs, “Yueban, get back! Move, now!”

Before the words had left my mouth, several crossbow bolts shot out with a hiss from the gaping maw of the tomb guardian.

Fortunately, Wang Yueban was quick-witted. With a move I can only describe as a “toad’s triple leap,” he tumbled and crawled out of the way just in time, the bolts whistling past him by mere inches.

“Phew, that was close! Way too close!” Wang Yueban gasped, patting his chest in relief.

Then, before he could even catch his breath, the guardian’s head jerked, and its gaping maw swung to face him once more. Another volley of bolts, their tips glinting coldly, flashed through the air like meteors in the night.

“Damn it! When will this end?” Wang Yueban cried, unable to dodge the attack in time. He dropped flat to the ground and rolled away with all his might—an ungainly but effective escape.

But the danger was far from over. The tomb guardian seemed endowed with a sinister intelligence, its head swiveling with a mechanical whine to track his every move. Before Wang Yueban could even get to his feet, the guardian adjusted its aim again, and another round of bolts shot from its mouth.

This time, there was no escape.

Just as I prepared to leap to his rescue, a shadow flickered before my eyes—swift as lightning, faster than a startled hare.

Clang! Clang! The bolts ricocheted off with a metallic ring.

I looked again. Wang Yueban was cowering on the ground, curled into a ball, while Hong Zhaohai stood beside him, holding a Vajra Umbrella in front as a shield.

The Vajra Umbrella, like the Luoyang shovel, is an essential tool for any tomb raider. It resembles an ordinary umbrella, but its special construction makes it impervious to blades and crossbow bolts alike.

Hong Zhaohai held the Vajra Umbrella before Wang Yueban, and the bolts clattered harmlessly to the ground.

Wang Yueban scrambled up, brushing the dirt from his clothes and thanking Hong Zhaohai profusely. “Zhao, thank you! If it weren’t for you, that beast would have turned me into a pincushion!”

“Yueban, call me ‘Zhao’ again and I’ll beat you so hard you’ll be stuck in bed for a month,” Hong Zhaohai snapped, glaring at him.

Wang Yueban grinned sheepishly. “Alright, alright, we’re brothers—everything’s negotiable!”

But as they spoke, another ominous grinding sounded. I followed the noise with my eyes, just in time to see the tomb guardian’s head swing around—this time aiming its gaping maw directly at me.

A chill ran down my spine. This was bad!

I barely had time to react before the all-too-familiar hiss of bolts filled the chamber. In an instant, a veritable rainstorm of crossbow bolts came thundering toward me…