Volume One - The Hundred Coffins Tomb Chapter Thirty - A Practitioner of the Dao?

Li Kun and I exchanged a glance, then turned our attention to the milky white stone coffin before us. Taking a deep breath, we both stepped to the head of the sarcophagus. I nodded to Li Kun, and together we placed our hands against the front edge of the lid, slowly applying force with our arms.

As the stone lid gradually slid open, an indescribable stench assailed our senses. Even with cloths wrapped around our mouths and noses, the foul smell seeped through, making us both nearly gag.

Once we'd pushed the lid aside a fair distance, Li Kun waved a hand before his face and muttered, "Damn, this reeks! Did the old scoundrel relieve himself in here before he died?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "I think only you would do something like that," I chuckled.

Li Kun rolled his eyes. "Since you’re not afraid of the smell, why don’t you stick your head in and take a look? I can’t take it," he said.

"A tomb raider who's afraid of corpse stench—imagine that," I teased.

Giving me another glare, Li Kun braced one hand against the coffin and shone his flashlight inside with the other. The instant he glimpsed what lay within, he let out a guttural exclamation: "Good heavens!"

He quickly turned to me. "Old Liu, come and look!"

Seeing his reaction, I felt a surge of excitement. Could there be something valuable inside?

I hurried over, leaned forward, and peered into the coffin. What met my eyes was not a dazzling trove of gold and jewels, but the remarkably well-preserved corpse of someone who had died nearly a thousand years ago. Even the hair atop the skull was tied up with a blackened hairpin.

The body wore a long robe, now yellowed with age, and resting by its left hand was a horsetail whisk, its handle somewhat blackened but the tail itself still white, crafted from a horse’s hair.

Li Kun and I exchanged another look, the same thought flitting through our minds: Was this the tomb of some ancient master?

I stepped back a few paces and whispered, "Wait, that can’t be. If this is the tomb of a renowned master, why are there so many burial attendants entombed here?"

Li Kun joined me, saying, "But remember, before we came, we heard that Thunder Mountain was struck by lightning all night many years ago. Could that have been his doing?"

I collected my thoughts. "If that storm was his work, perhaps..." I eyed the coffins around us and spoke in a grave tone. "He wasn't a Daoist sage at all. I suspect this was a practitioner of dark arts. If that's the case, everything here makes sense."

Li Kun nodded. "So these people in the tomb were simply victims of his schemes. After their deaths, he trapped them here with Black Dragon Cord."

"He did this to ensure that if anyone ever tried to rob his tomb, the builders would rise to defend it as undead guardians," I continued.

"But I still can't figure out these coffins without the Black Dragon Cord," Li Kun mused, still puzzled.

I understood what he meant. Glancing around at the other coffins, I said, "Perhaps something befell this dark sorcerer's family, so he built this grand tomb. After the builders finished, he buried his kin here, then turned on the builders and killed them."

"After that, he trapped them in their coffins, turning them into undead guardians. If any grave robbers arrived, they'd open the wrong coffin and be doomed."

When I finished speaking, Li Kun took a deep breath. "If we're right," he said, "this dark sorcerer was truly ruthless. He committed so many vile acts in life—may he rot in hell!"

With that, Li Kun spat viciously on the ground, as if to expel all his disgust.

I looked at him and said, "Since that’s the case, we owe this villain no courtesy."

"Exactly!" Li Kun replied. "The old scoundrel killed so many—he never imagined someone would come and dig him up after death."

I moved to the left side of the coffin, while Li Kun took the right. We exchanged a look, then seized the lid and heaved it downward. With a resounding crash, the stone lid struck the ground. Once more, we shone our flashlights into the coffin.

Inside were only a few worthless items. Li Kun leaned in and pulled out a porcelain bowl of the kind every household used for offerings. "Did this old scoundrel own nothing of value? Even this useless bowl was buried with him," he grumbled.

I was equally perplexed, watching as Li Kun tossed the bowl back in and picked up the horsetail whisk from beside the corpse.

He swung it through the air a few times, curled his lip, and muttered, "What a piece of junk," before tossing it aside as well.

The coffin contained nothing but mundane objects. As I glanced down, I noticed something clutched in the mummy's hand. Leaning in, I pried open the desiccated fingers and found a small, golden object in its grasp.

As I picked it up, a series of crisp chimes rang out—it was a petite golden bell.

Li Kun saw me holding the bell but paid it no mind, continuing to search the corpse for anything else of value.

I examined the bell in my hand. It was small, just about five centimeters tall. When I shook it, it let out a clear, musical note. I thought to myself, "This isn’t an ordinary bell. If the deceased was a practitioner of dark arts, this golden bell might be a magical artifact."

With that thought, I tucked the bell away with the Dragon-Seeking Disk.

Just then, Li Kun cried out in excitement, holding up a jade tablet the size of his palm. "Old Liu, I found something good—a jade tablet!"