Jiang Chenbi turned back and saw Cui Wangshu’s pitch-black pupils staring intently at her. She clutched the wound on her arm, appearing somewhat weak, but her gaze was exceptionally focused.
Cui Wangshu looked toward the top of the stone pillar and said in a low voice, “Do you think the one up there is the Xuan Shang Emperor?”
Jiang Chenbi frowned. “Isn’t it?”
Cui Wangshu said nothing and merely gave Jiang Chenbi a meaningful look.
Jiang Chenbi received the signal, pursed her lips, and suppressed the turbulent waves of shock rising in her heart.
Cui Wangshu hooked her lips into a smile, her gaze toward the top complex. If her guess was correct, then the strangeness she had vaguely sensed along the way had an explanation.
She rose from the ground and walked step by step toward the heavenly steps. Jiang Chenbi’s lips moved a few times before she said softly, “Cui Wangshu, shouldn’t you make a calculation?”
Cui Wangshu turned back and smiled lightly. “Didn’t you always think I was too stubborn for insisting on using divination chips and demanding perfection in everything?”
Seeing the worry in Jiang Chenbi’s eyes, Cui Wangshu explained further, “No matter how much you scheme, it all comes down to following the will of heaven. Sometimes, whether you calculate it or not, it’s all within the rules of the heavenly dao. So this time, I won’t calculate.”
With that, Cui Wangshu stepped onto the heavenly steps and extended her hand to Jiang Chenbi. “Afraid?”
Jiang Chenbi shook her head with a smile and placed her hand in Cui Wangshu’s palm. “I just feel that our plan hasn’t been implemented yet. It’s a bit unwilling to leave it like this.”
In truth, she could sense that both she and Cui Wangshu might perish here this time. She was simply reluctant.
Cui Wangshu gently squeezed Jiang Chenbi’s hand and winked playfully.
Jiang Chenbi chuckled. She hadn’t expected to see Minister Cui’s childlike side right before death.
The heavenly steps underfoot were only slightly warmer than the extreme yin bricks in the passageway, and a bone-chilling cold surged from her soles up to her skull.
The two walked step by step toward the top of the stone pillar, their clasped hands representing the trust forged through life-and-death experiences over the past dozen days, as well as the only warmth they could offer each other in this imperial mausoleum.
At the top of the stone pillar was a massive Eight Trigrams diagram, and in the center of the trigrams sat a crystalline ice coffin.
Even from afar, they could see the lifelike face of the person inside the coffin. But the closer they got, the more they felt that the face differed from the Xuan Shang Emperor in the murals.
The person in the coffin had their hands crossed over their abdomen, clutching a bamboo slip to their chest—that was undoubtedly the coveted Xuanji Strategy.
Strangely, there was also an onyx iron fan buried with them. Though separated by the ice coffin, its thick murderous aura and ancient presence still assaulted them.
Upon careful recollection, historical records made no mention of the Xuan Shang Emperor using an onyx iron fan, nor were there any Pre-Shang generals famed for it.
So, whose fan was this?
The onyx iron fan differed from other weapons: an inch longer made it stronger, an inch shorter made it more dangerous. Martial artists favored long spears and swords.
Even in Great Zhao, few used the onyx iron fan as a weapon. But as coincidences go, Cui Wangshu was precisely someone proficient in it.
As a civil official, Cui Wangshu usually appeared scholarly. Few knew she practiced martial arts, and even fewer observed the calluses on her palms.
Even fewer would know she mastered such an “obscure” weapon.
Cui Wangshu frowned and traced the inscriptions on the ice coffin. These characters differed from the oracle bone script on the mausoleum walls and from any script she had seen.
She couldn’t understand their meaning, but she recognized the winding grooves encircling the entire coffin, starting directly above the corpse—blood sacrifice.
The text was not extensive, and with her photographic memory, Cui Wangshu had already committed it to mind. But clearly, to obtain the Xuanji Strategy, they had to open the coffin. The two exchanged a glance and saw hesitation in each other’s eyes.
Below, the river hid deadly dangers—it was likely the main branch of the so-called Yellow Springs outside the mausoleum, their only possible escape route.
If they stopped here and sought only survival, they might escape. But if they opened the coffin, not only might they fail to get the Xuanji Strategy, but they could become the final sacrifices for the coffin-dweller’s ascension.
The choice between life and death lay before them again. Human greed was the hardest to confront. They had entered this peril-filled imperial mausoleum for the Xuanji Strategy before them. But what use was it if they couldn’t preserve their lives?
A long silence enveloped the two. After a while, Jiang Chenbi spoke, “Stopping at this point doesn’t suit my style.”
Cui Wangshu looked at Jiang Chenbi, her eyes dark as ink. “What a coincidence. I, Cui, am also one who won’t rest until the goal is achieved.”
They returned to the ice coffin. The small knife they had taken from the ice chamber earlier came in handy—it seemed everything was fated.
Fresh red blood flowed along the winding patterns on the ice coffin, slowly revealing its totem. From the front, it resembled an ancient god-hound. The ice-blue coffin entwined with the red totem emitted a bewitching vitality.
Most people worshiped Fuxi and Nüwa as ancient gods; few revered the hound-god, for this deity hardly fit the world’s image of gods as merciful and compassionate toward all beings.
Cui Wangshu didn’t notice Jiang Chenbi’s somewhat grave expression. She didn’t know, but Jiang Chenbi did—their blood was far from ordinary.
From the twin-born daughters’ relief sculptures visible everywhere since entering the mausoleum, it was clear that Pre-Shang revered the twin-born daughters and the hound-god. What consequences their combination might bring was known only to those who built this mausoleum—Liu Xuan and Mo Jiuyuan.
The blood slowly froze in the ice, and the coffin began to change.
Cui Wangshu pulled Jiang Chenbi back. Visibly, the ice coffin melted at an astonishing speed. Cui Wangshu stared unblinkingly at the figure slowly rising from the coffin, not daring to relax, her body tensed to the extreme.
The person in the coffin glanced casually at the two, as if they were mere ants in his eyes—crushing them would be a flick of the finger.
Seeing him pinch his fingers to divine, Cui Wangshu grew even more certain of her suspicions. She pulled Jiang Chenbi into a respectful bow. “This junior pays respects to Senior Liu Xuan.”
This finally drew the man’s attention. After finishing his divination, he stroked his fine beard and finally bestowed a glance upon them. His eyes smiled, but they stared sinisterly at Cui Wangshu. “You recognize me?”
Cui Wangshu swallowed and said hoarsely, “The master who taught this junior divination chips and astrology was Liu Wuyong. This disciple pays respects to Ancestral Master.”
In this world, cultivators did not mingle with ordinary folk; they had their own realm. Contact meant mutual exploitation.
As a child, her master had told stories of Ancestral Master Liu Xuan, but without Pre-Shang records, Cui Wangshu had dismissed them as exaggerations for money—her master was hardly upright.
Liu Xuan laughed upon hearing Cui Wangshu’s words, as if recalling something. “Hahaha, that little rascal actually took on a disciple.”
“No wonder it’s you who made it here in the end. Back then, I divined that one of my descendants would grant me an opportunity. I didn’t expect it to be Wuyong’s disciple.” Liu Xuan’s tone was amiable, without the danger they had imagined.
But was it truly so?
Liu Xuan narrowed his eyes, and instantly a dangerous aura assaulted the two. Cui Wangshu broke into cold sweat, swiftly pushing Jiang Chenbi away. In dodging, she awkwardly knelt on the ground.
Cui Wangshu took a deep breath, veins bulging on her forehead as she endured with all her might. She opened her mouth to speak, but another voice beat her to it.
Jiang Chenbi frowned, her eyes suppressing the disdain she had long felt for Liu Xuan’s contempt for all beings. “We entered the mausoleum by chance. Why force us like this?”
Liu Xuan then turned his gaze to the quiet woman who had been silent until now. He examined Jiang Chenbi’s face carefully. “Jing River Jiang Clan? Back then, your elders merely worked under me. Young one, you’re quite rude.”
Cui Wangshu sensed the killing intent from Liu Xuan. Sure enough, the next moment, Jiang Chenbi’s throat was seized. Her face flushed red, but she refused to beg for mercy—stubborn as Cui Wangshu.
Seeing this, Cui Wangshu hurriedly said, “You’ve already half-stepped into the Divine Realm, with heavenly tribulation imminent. Killing now would waste all your prior efforts.”
This made Liu Xuan loosen his grip slightly, as if recalling the initial matters.
Cui Wangshu breathed a sigh of relief and continued, “Ancestral Master, tonight is the full moon, your weakest moment. The nature of the heavenly tribulation is unknown. Even if you kill us ordinary folk, it won’t aid your cultivation and will only anger the heavenly dao—what a loss.”
Liu Xuan pondered for a moment and released his hand. Jiang Chenbi fell to the ground, gasping and coughing. Cui Wangshu rushed over, helped her up, and shielded her behind herself.
Liu Xuan glanced back at them and smirked. “You two between…”
Jiang Chenbi quickly interrupted, “In the heat of the moment, I was rude. Please forgive me.”
Since they had opened the coffin, Liu Xuan naturally knew their relationship. But from his cheap great-disciple’s urgency earlier, he had glimpsed something.
Cui Wangshu said, “Ancestral Master, we entered the mausoleum by mistake while investigating the corpse-eating rats. We ventured deep seeking an exit and the Xuanji Strategy, and thus opened the coffin.”
“Releasing you from the God-Trapping Coffin counts as a good deed, even if driven by greed. This junior dares not speak of cooperation with you—only that killing us would harm your cultivation. Better to let us go. Once you step into the Divine Realm, you’ll be beyond the mortal world. This disciple only hopes to return and avenge my parents.”
Hearing Cui Wangshu’s sincere words, others might think them mere mortals, harmless to release. But Liu Xuan was shrewd and detected the deeper meaning.
This was the first time Liu Xuan truly appraised the woman before him. Observing their features, he had some understanding. He asked, “You want my help, don’t you?”
Cui Wangshu lowered her gaze. “This disciple does have such thoughts. Once the chess game begins, I fear it’s no longer in my grasp. With your aid, it would naturally be better.”
Liu Xuan said, “Though not a cultivator, you discerned the God-Trapping Array on this ice coffin—you’re one of the few juniors worth noticing. Why so lacking in confidence? Don’t shame our sect.”
Cui Wangshu looked at Liu Xuan and smiled self-mockingly. “In the past, this disciple studied divination chips and astrology only for an official career. Only after entering this mausoleum did I realize true powerhouses exist.”
“Ancestral Master must know our backgrounds well. If the opponent involves cultivators at the end, this disciple fears checkmate.”
Liu Xuan said nothing.
Jiang Chenbi bit her lip and hesitated. “Senior, may we speak privately?”
Cui Wangshu looked at Jiang Chenbi in confusion, but Jiang Chenbi didn’t respond. Liu Xuan waved his hand, erecting a barrier. Cui Wangshu could no longer hear them.
Jiang Chenbi then said, “The heart’s blood of the twin-born daughters might help you pass the tribulation. Would you agree in exchange?”
Heart’s blood required living blood, offered devoutly in sacrifice—that was why Liu Xuan hadn’t killed them for it.
Jiang Chenbi had dealt with many in the jianghu; some knew more than Cui Wangshu.
Liu Xuan raised an eyelid, signaling her to continue.
Jiang Chenbi’s expression was serious. “She doesn’t know we’re the twin-born daughters, and I won’t tell her. If you agree, we won’t disturb you normally. We only hope that at the endgame, if the opponent uses cultivators, you can intervene.”
Liu Xuan narrowed his eyes. “Some feelings shouldn’t exist. Think it over yourself.”
This counted as agreement. Jiang Chenbi nodded and lowered her gaze. “Thank you, Senior.”
When the barrier vanished, Liu Xuan ignored them and set up a God-Protecting Array nearby.
Cui Wangshu frowned. “What did you say to him?”
Jiang Chenbi smiled. “I used our heart’s blood to exchange for a promise from him.”
Cui Wangshu didn’t believe it. “If it was just that, why not let me hear?”
