Chapter 231: Real Ancient Tomb

Chapter 231 The True Ancient Tomb

Everything within the ancient tomb shattered into pieces amidst the howling Yin energy, revealing its true appearance.

—A winding, secluded path; dilapidated, desolate houses; faded, blackened red paper pasted on wooden doors; withered grass roots and dry moss in the wall corners...

He was still in the village, still in his original spot; the previous arduous journey through mountains and rivers, the traversing of robber tunnels, had been nothing but an illusion.

Breaking free of the bewitchment, Zhang Yuanqing whipped his head around, gazing back at the quiet path; a thick, ink-like Yin energy was surging from the end of the winding trail.

It roiled in layer upon layer, like dense smoke.

Right at the forefront of the rolling smoke was Xiao Doubi, wailing loudly.

He flailed his limbs frantically, crawling while he cried, bursting forth with speed unbefitting his age; the smoke-like Yin energy pursued him from behind, ready to swallow this plump, adorable infant spirit at any moment.

At this moment, he relied on his master utterly, like a child depends on its parents.

Zhang Yuanqing felt a chill rise from the depths of his heart; every nerve screamed "Run," every muscle tensed in a conditioned reflex, adrenaline spiking—but not to fuel a fight, rather to keep this body from going weak at the knees during flight.

The charm spell was broken; there was still time to flee... Watching Xiao Doubi about to be devoured by the "dense smoke," Zhang Yuanqing's face twitched violently.

In the next instant, he charged toward Xiao Doubi, toward the Yin energy crashing like a tsunami, steeling himself and rushing forward.

Only as he rushed at that terrifying Yin energy did he truly grasp Xiao Doubi's fear; that oncoming aura carried an irresistible power, and before it even arrived, it had shattered the heart and gall of him, a Night Wanderer.

This was the suppression of a higher-ranked being upon a lower-ranked one of the same class.

Just as a Night Wanderer suppresses spirits.

Amidst the frantic sprint, Zhang Yuanqing shook out his Yin-Yang Taoist robe and donned it, summoning the Houtu Boots, putting them on as he ran; his steps suddenly grew heavy, each footfall a dull thud, his chaotic breath steadying thereby.

After sprinting another dozen meters, his legs went soft, his calves cramping, his face pale as paper.

The closer he drew to that Yin energy, the more fear he felt, as if meeting a natural predator.

No, he couldn't stop... he told himself silently.

Two faint lights emerged, transforming respectively into the Ruffian Gauntlets and the Burst Pistol.

F*ck! What's there to be scared of? When you're dead, you're dead; let's do this damn woman... The instant he gripped the two items, a thought surged in Zhang Yuanqing's mind, granting him immense courage, and the fear in his heart vanished.

Thump-thump-thump!

He finally reached Xiao Doubi, spread his arms, and caught the infant spirit lunging at him, holding it tight in his embrace.

It was at this very moment that the thick, ink-like Yin energy surged before him; Zhang Yuanqing saw the incessantly roiling black smoke part, revealing a pair of embroidered shoes and a pleated red skirt.

Then, he saw the "black smoke" part against a full, towering chest, like a drawn curtain, revealing a beautifully curved jawline.

Finally, a face of peerless beauty; the Widow Li at the village entrance hadn't lied—this woman was indeed stunning, but also pale, pale in a way that made one's scalp tingle.

And most terrifying were her eyes; her eye sockets were filled with pitch-black energy, her pupils blood-red like gemstones.

Zhang Yuanqing's body trembled violently, his teeth chattering with a "click-click" sound; his face was completely drained of blood, just as deathly pale as the red-skirted woman before him.

Yet his heart pounded violently, overloaded, the heaving amplitude visible through the rise and fall of his chest cavity.

Immense terror exploded in Zhang Yuanqing's heart; this was the most terrifying enemy he had ever faced head-on, save for the Demon-Eye Heavenly King.

The Demon-Eyed Heavenly King lacked the aura to suppress a Night Wanderer, but the red-robed woman before him was different; in life, she had clearly been a powerful Night Wanderer—no, a Star Official.

Those eye sockets were pitch-black, pupils like beads of blood, their gaze devoid of any emotion as they fixed upon Zhang Yuanqing; she slowly raised her hand, her sleeve sliding down to reveal a pale yet delicate hand.

That hand reached for Zhang Yuanqing's throat.

With a boom, Zhang Yuanqing's emotions detonated.

It was as if he had suffered a massive stimulus; on the brink of death, a fury that would burn jade and stone alike briefly overrode his fear.

The boot on his right foot flared with a heavy, faintly viscous yellow light.

The muscles of his right leg swelled, splitting his trouser leg.

*Snap!*

Zhang Yuanqing lashed out with a whip kick, striking at that pale, grasping hand.

The pale, delicate hand paused, its palm slowly turning over.

*Snap!*

Zhang Yuanqing's whip kick landed squarely in the red-robed woman's palm, and instantly, his foot was seized.

*Crunch...*

Zhang Yuanqing heard the sound of the bones in his foot shattering.

That hand was clearly delicate and beautiful, yet it possessed unrivaled strength; more terrifying still, the fatal kick of the Houtu Boots had failed to make that delicate pale hand waver in the slightest.

Unbeatable, unbeatable... the thought of "fucking killing her" in Zhang Yuanqing's heart was swiftly extinguished.

He seemed to have lost his reason, turning reckless, heedlessly clapping his hands together at his chest.

*Boom!*

Fierce gales and crimson flames lifted the Princess's skirt, tossed her black hair, yet her face remained cold and rigid.

Seeing the explosion's shockwave fail to drive back the Princess, Zhang Yuanqing cursed "Fuck" in his heart; if the Houtu Boots' attack couldn't repel her, why did I think a pair of Supernatural-quality gloves would work?

Worst of all, this brief delay had wasted precious, life-saving time.

The Princess released his foot, her pale, delicate hand lunging again, nearly brushing his throat.

A layer of white frost rapidly formed on Zhang Yuanqing's neck.

At the critical moment, Zhang Yuanqing pressed the drum button on the Cat King speaker, simultaneously summoning the Red Dancing Shoes.

*Thud! Thud! Thud!*

Dull, deafening drumbeats tore at the eardrums, targeting all spirits and minds, striking terror into the hearts of listeners, shaking their very souls.

The Princess's hand paused, imperceptibly.

Two streaks of red light enveloped Zhang Yuanqing's feet; the equipping complete, in the next instant his body collapsed without warning, a full split dodging the Princess's hand.

Hearing the drumbeats, the Princess's cold, fierce pupils seemed to contract; immediately after, her gaze grew ever more savage, black veins bulging across her pale cheeks.

Though her face was rigid, that surging rage, Zhang Yuanqing perceived with absolute clarity.

The drumbeat drove her into a frenzy? No, the drumbeat lacks that power... Zhang Yuanqing froze for a moment, then a realization struck him.

It was the Demon Lord!

The Demon Lord had entered this instance dungeon back then. At the time, he must have been carrying the Cat King speaker as well. The drumbeat stimulated the Commandery Princess, seemingly dredging up unpleasant memories...

Damn it, what the hell did that bastard Demon Lord do to her back then?!

Zhang Yuanqing cursed violently in his heart.

Under the control of the Red Dancing Shoes, his legs coiled and he sprang up, sprinting madly toward the outside of the village.

The Red Dancing Shoes were not subject to the Commandery Princess's suppression.

Gritting his teeth against the pain in his right foot, Zhang Yuanqing hurriedly shut off the drumbeat. He looked back, his pupils contracting violently.

That smoke-like Yin energy coalesced into a palm larger than a house, reaching out to grab him.

In the center of the palm was the enraged Commandery Princess.

The palm descended like a toppling skyscraper, smashing toward the one man and one corpse fleeing for their lives.

Seeing this, Zhang Yuanqing's spiritual body instantly split in two, possessing the Yin Corpse. Simultaneously, from his inventory, he summoned a human-skin membrane, thin as a cicada's wing.

Perfect Human Skin!

He hurled the artifact viciously at Corpse No. 1 behind him.

Corpse No. 1 (Zhang Yuanqing) caught the artifact, pulled it over its head, and the human-skin membrane "melted" into a pool of liquid, enveloping Corpse No. 1.

In the next second, Corpse No. 1 transformed into a young man in his early twenties, handsome and spirited.

It was unmistakably Zhang Yuanqing.

This Zhang Yuanqing turned and fled into a side path, parting ways with the main body.

That descending giant palm seemed influenced by some unseen force, freezing in mid-air. After a brief struggle, it gave chase to the Zhang Yuanqing formed by the Yin Corpse.

"Huff... it didn't come after me!"

Sensing the tsunami-like Yin energy pursuing the Yin Corpse, Zhang Yuanqing felt the joy of surviving a disaster, along with a weakness born of excessive emotional expenditure.

Zhang Yuanqing dared not linger for a moment, urging the Red Dancing Shoes toward the fields, toward the back mountain.

He intended to use the Red Dancing Shoes' ability to ignore terrain and move without expending stamina, to reach the ancient tomb in a single breath.

Corpse No. 1 wouldn't last long. No, it wouldn't run for long.

It would soon be killed by the Commandery Princess.

The ancient tomb was the only safe haven. It wasn't safe just by leaving the village; the Commandery Princess would definitely give chase.

Over the undulating mountain terrain and massive protruding rock faces, Zhang Yuanqing moved as if on flat ground, his target the robber's tunnel in his memory.

Although everything he had seen before was an illusion, Zhang Yuanqing believed it was not false, but an illusory realm constructed based on reality.

The reason was simple: he had never been to the ancient tomb, yet everything there was so real—from the tomb's architecture to the burial goods, everything was logical and well-founded. That was what had deceived him.

That bronze mirror was excavated from the ancient tomb. It was something the mirror knew, which was why it could manufacture such a flawless illusory realm.

A few minutes later, Zhang Yuanqing arrived at the robber's tunnel within the illusion.

His analysis had been correct; the ancient tomb was located right here.

"Dismiss!"

Zhang Yuanqing immediately dismissed the Red Dancing Shoes' wear mode, swiftly leaping into the tunnel and proceeding along the narrow passage.

The Red Dancing Shoes followed behind with a *tap-tap-tap*, a line of text floating above them:

[Are you willing to dance with me...]

It looked exactly like they were shamelessly chasing Zhang Yuanqing, begging for a dance.

After traversing the tomb passage, Zhang Yuanqing leaped into the burial chamber. He first scanned the surroundings and indeed saw the clay figurines of maids and guards standing at the four corners. Even the cracks and severed limbs were identical to the environment in the illusion.

Only then did he relax, plopping down onto the ground, panting heavily.

The air inside the chamber was somewhat stale, clearly lacking oxygen; this differed from the illusion.

"I actually failed to notice this detail. Sigh, lack of tomb-raiding experience really costs you..."

Zhang Yuanqing thought with a sigh.

*Tap-tap-tap...*

The Red Dancing Shoes followed him into the chamber, came to his side, and lifted their left foot to kick him.

[Are you willing to dance with me...]

If the owner did not pay the price within a short time, the Red Dancing Shoes' favorability toward the owner would drop, and they would initiate a hunt against the owner.

That kick signified that the Red Dancing Shoes no longer loved him.

"Willing, willing..."

Zhang Yuanqing rose helplessly, enduring the severe pain in his sole, and accompanied the Red Dancing Shoes through a full tap dance.

He felt his foot injury had worsened.

Zhang Yuanqing stowed the Red Dancing Shoes and slumped to the ground, trying his best not to move his injured right foot.

The reason he could finish a tap dance with comminuted fractures in his metatarsals was thanks to the Houtu Boots.

——Honest folk have good endurance!

Sometimes, an artifact's price is also a kind of ability. For instance, just now, the reason he overcame the fear in his heart and the pressure of a High-Sequence being was entirely thanks to the two Spellblade artifacts: the Thug's Gauntlets and the Bursting Pistol.

This was the foundation for Zhang Yuanqing's subsequent series of operations.

Although it also led to reckless, brainless moves, overall, it was a net gain.

Suddenly, a pressure so vast it defied imagination descended from above.

Zhang Yuanqing's heart clenched; he instinctively curled up, tensely craning his neck to observe.

The Commandery Princess had given chase...

He watched in terror for a long while, until that pressure circled above for a long time, then receded.

"Gone?" Zhang Yuanqing let out a long breath, then clutched his chest, a pang of heartache striking him.

"What a pity... to have lost a Yin Corpse..."

Utilizing the "Bear Karma" property of the Perfect Human Skin, turning the Yin Corpse into his scapegoat—this was a flash of inspiration Zhang Yuanqing had seized in the midst of that crisis just now.

Fu Qingyang was right; the more dangerous the moment, the more potential he could unleash.

Though the Perfect Human Skin was cursed, though it was a trap, from a certain perspective, it was an undisputed divine artifact.

"I hope the Commandery Princess doesn't confiscate the item, or this dungeon run will be a total loss."

Zhang Yuanqing rose to his feet, casting his gaze toward the corridor door, toward the main tomb.

In the previous illusion, the coffin and the chest could not be opened; he wanted to see if, in reality, these things could be unlocked.