Chapter 49: A Cry for Help – Why Use an Ox Cleaver to Kill a Chicken?

At that moment, they had already entered the depths of Water Moon Mountain. Thick fog shrouded the path, and in the deathly silence, faint, eerie howls drifted from the distance.

Something stirred.

Gu Changhuai’s expression grew serious as he blinked at Rong Ye in signal.

Seeing this, Rong Ye finally released the hand covering Gu Changhuai’s lips. He let his hand drop into his sleeve, his face calm as he lowered his gaze, though his fingers subtly clenched, brushing the palm that Gu Changhuai’s thin lips had touched.

…

Gu Changhuai regained his wits and listened carefully for a moment before lowering his voice. “It sounds like someone crying for help. Let’s go check it out.”

He pulled Rong Ye forward. They hadn’t gone far when something jabbed at his foot. Looking down, he saw a gleam of golden brilliance protruding from the rammed-earth ground, mostly buried in the soil.

Rong Ye raised a finger, and with a swirl of spiritual energy, he unearthed the buried object. It was a palace lantern made of pure gold. Once the spiritual energy cleansed away the clinging mud and sand, it revealed exquisite carvings and dangling red tassels, the whole thing gleaming radiantly.

It was clearly worth a fortune.

Rong Ye glanced at it and said concisely, “A burial good.”

Gu Changhuai looked puzzled. “Burial goods should be inside the mausoleum. How did it end up here?”

A palace lantern made of pure gold—if not kept intact, it could be melted down for a massive sum of silver, enough to make an ordinary person wealthy for life. Even a tomb raider wouldn’t haul it out just to abandon it midway. Besides, this was the Former Dynasty Imperial Mausoleum from five hundred years ago. Steal it, and no one would know or care.

To this, Rong Ye only replied, “Greed knows no bounds and invites disaster.”

Gu Changhuai nodded sagely. “Mm… I see.” Then he turned to Rong Ye and shrugged. “I didn’t get it.”

He stared at Rong Ye expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

“…” Rong Ye sighed. “It’s not convenient to say more. Keep going, and you’ll understand when we see it.”

The fog here was thick, and tangled weeds blocked the way. Gu Changhuai was too lazy to clear them himself, so he deliberately stayed behind Rong Ye. Unsure if any dangers might emerge, he grabbed Rong Ye’s sleeve to avoid getting separated, trailing slowly after Rong Ye blazed the trail.

The two continued onward.

The path ahead grew narrower and more sinister, with sunlight almost entirely blocked by the dense canopy of branches and leaves. Even in broad daylight, it felt eerily dim and cold.

The Qiankun Sword was unsheathed, the divine blade that intimidated the Demon Realm now clearing weeds ahead. For a time, the only sounds were the rustle of severed grass blades falling.

Gu Changhuai followed behind Rong Ye. The muddy path led deeper into the mountain. Having stepped on the golden palace lantern burial good earlier, he paid close attention to his footing to avoid tripping again.

In that short span of less than a quarter-hour, he could make out the objects buried in the soil along the way: jewelry, ornaments, gold and silver ingots, scattered haphazardly.

The deeper they went, the more burial goods littered the path—until the Qiankun Sword struck a stone stele hidden in the undergrowth with a crisp ding, bringing them to a halt.

Gu Changhuai’s eyes sharpened as his gaze fell on fragments of bloodstained clothing mixed with dirt and grass ash in front of the stele, along with a back basket full of dried herbs lying under a tree.

“This must be where the herbalist’s young daughter was killed,” Gu Changhuai said softly. Judging by the clothes, the girl hadn’t even reached marriageable age—probably eleven or twelve.

Ever since they reached the area in front of the stele, the compass needle had been trembling nonstop, like excited quivering or a warning of an approaching endpoint.

Rong Ye held his sword and flipped over the struck stele. It bore dragon and phoenix carvings, the applied gold powder weathered and flaking away sparsely, giving it a particularly desolate look.

“The imperial mausoleum’s burial goods are so lavish, but how come the tombstone is this shabby?” Gu Changhuai wondered. He didn’t know much about this stele.

Rong Ye explained, “This is the tip of the Tomb Guard Stele. It should stand over ten feet tall in full. There’s likely an inscription buried below. With the tomb stele less than half the height of the guard stele, it’s buried along with it.” He pointed his sword tip at the relief carvings of dragon and phoenix. “These are dragon-phoenix carvings, symbolizing the emperor and empress buried together.”

Gu Changhuai understood.

But now that they were closer, the eerie, indistinct wails he’d heard earlier became much clearer. He tilted his head to listen. “There’s sound coming from underground.”

Rong Ye said, “Below is the underground palace.”

Gu Changhuai asked, “The whole mountain?”

Rong Ye nodded.

Gu Changhuai got it. He closed his eyes and tried to extend his divine sense for a look, but it was fiercely repelled the moment it touched the area in front of the Tomb Guard Stele.

Hm?

This was interesting.

Gu Changhuai’s eyes snapped open in surprise. “Divine sense can’t get in.”

Rong Ye’s voice was low. “Stay alert.” At that moment, the compass needle suddenly spun, pointing at a towering tree nearby, trembling lightly.

Gu Changhuai darted over and called to Rong Ye, “Come look—this is a robber’s hole!”

At the base of the sturdy old tree, the hole was concealed in the grass.

A constant whoosh of cold wind poured from the small, hidden entrance, the interior pitch-black and exuding an eerie chill. A faint trace of baleful aura seeped out.

Closer to the hole, the howls from the underground palace grew even clearer—not ghostly shrieks, but vivid, agonized cries laced with sobs—

“Save me! Someone save me—”

“Help—”

“I can’t hold on much longer—Master!”

Now distant, now near; now faint, now clear.

There was a living person!

Gu Changhuai’s eyes widened in shock as he met Rong Ye’s gaze. Clearly, the burial goods they’d seen earlier had been hauled out through this hole.

The entrance was too narrow for two people. Gu Changhuai decisively struck out with a palm, widening it, then leaped down. In an instant, his feet hit the solid ground of the underground palace.

A damp, musty odor wafted from somewhere. Gu Changhuai formed a seal and set up a barrier around them to block the foul smell. A quick scan revealed pitch darkness all around. What had been indistinct from outside became obvious now: thick strands of baleful aura wrapping toward them.

The next moment, a beam of light descended. Catching a familiar scent, Gu Changhuai glanced sideways to see Rong Ye land beside him. Looking up, he saw the Qiankun Sword hovering overhead, emitting a brilliant white glow like a full moon, illuminating the entire underground palace.

…What honor was this?

The demon-slaying Qiankun Sword had cleared weeds on the way in and now lit the tomb chamber.

Truth be told, he felt a bit overwhelmed.

But mentioning this back in the Demon Realm would be prime bragging material!

Gu Changhuai instinctively straightened his back—though with the anti-demon Qiankun Sword hovering above, he couldn’t help but feel a tingle on his scalp. Nervously, he said, “Is there something else for light? Isn’t the Qiankun Sword a bit overkill?”

As the saying goes…

Why use an ox cleaver to kill a chicken?