King of Tomb Raiders

Chapter 100

The story of the "Epang Palace" occupied my entire mind. What happened this afternoon was put aside for now, because I was very interested in the miraculous rise and rapid fall of the Qin Dynasty in Chinese history. The strange thing about the "second Epang Palace" mentioned by Suren shocked me even more.

Qin Shi Huang created many unique historical moments, such as the infamous "Burning of Books and Burying of Scholars," the Great Wall, one of the "Eight Wonders of the World," and the Epang Palace, which was destroyed by Xiang Yu's torch and is still talked about today. Even his birth and death have become topics that "research enthusiasts" want to get to the bottom of.

My gaze fell upon the bronze statue once more. Based on Xiao Keleng's dating analysis of the parchment map, this bronze statue might also be an antique from the Qin Dynasty—unfortunately, the clock he was holding exposed the forger's clumsy attempt at a "parody." Bronze artifacts and modern clocks are completely unrelated; why force them together?

Tomorrow, if I manage to get something out of Yelan, I might visit Mapletree Temple again; or perhaps I should first clear out all the books in the library—

My mind was a jumbled mess. I leaned back wearily, resting my head on a sofa cushion, and closed my eyes to rest. At that moment, the lights in the upstairs living room were very bright; even with my eyes tightly closed, I still felt a glare.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps. Someone was slowly and steadily walking up the stairs, making a "thump, thump, thump" sound as they stepped on the steps.

A thought flashed through my mind: "Only an extremely large person could make such a loud noise, but there doesn't seem to be such a fat person in the villa—"

The thumping sound continued, reaching the halfway point of the stairs. I squinted, staring at the stairwell, and with a flick of my wrist, I gripped the tactical knife in my hand. Someone suddenly appearing from the living room and going upstairs without me hearing the front door open was definitely not normal.

The footsteps sounded seven more times, then suddenly disappeared, as if the person's body had stopped moving between the corner and the second floor. I silently took a breath, then suddenly sprang up, leaping to the top of the stairs. I hunched my shoulders, bent over, and raised my right arm, ready to throw a knife at any moment.

Part 3: Ghostly Villa

— Chapter 6 — A Wormhole? Or a Strange Dream? —

"Nobody here? Nobody here!" I was stunned; the stairs were completely empty.

The lights in the downstairs living room were on all the time, casting a double beam of light on the stairs, leaving no dark corners. If someone came up, they would have nowhere to hide. But—there was no one there, only the brightly lit, freshly waxed floor, dazzling and chilling.

I hissed as I gasped for breath, my heart pounding and cold sweat beading on my forehead. I had just unmistakably heard footsteps. Could it be a ghost?

I couldn't hear any sound, not even the sound of the waves, only the frantic pounding of my own heart.

"Who's there? Who is it?" I shouted, and to my surprise, it produced a brief, dry echo in the empty living room, reverberating seven or eight times. Seeing no one, there was naturally no answer. I gripped my knife tightly and tiptoed downstairs. When I pushed my lightness skill to its limit, even the cold, hard leather shoes on the stairs made absolutely no sound.

There was no one in the living room downstairs, and no one in the bathroom either; it was just a false alarm.

My emotions gradually calmed down. I washed my face and slowly walked back up the stairs. But as I turned the corner, I suddenly heard the babbling of a child...

The creaking sound came from the doorway of the study, and the wooden floor inside was also creaking, indicating that someone was walking around in leather shoes.

In an instant, my blood seemed to freeze: "How could someone have broken in? When I went downstairs just now, there was nothing upstairs..."

The answer is only three words: "fanged demon," a female ghost in Japanese mythology that appears at midnight to bewitch single men. I once laughed at Xiao Keleng's superstitious and skeptical nature, thinking that something like a "fanged demon" could never exist, preferring to believe in things that could be explained by scientific theories, such as "black holes, wormholes, aliens, and monsters."

The courage my tactical knife gave me was gradually fading. My teeth were aching from clenching them, and I even considered turning back to call for help. But in the end, I gritted my teeth and restrained myself, climbing step by step, taking deep breaths as I made my way up to the second floor. Those short fifteen steps felt as arduous as the Eighteen Bends of Mount Tai, the foremost of the Five Sacred Mountains.

In Japanese mythology, the "fanged demon" can transform into boundless beauty to seduce men, or it can strike with lightning speed, appearing in its true form to take lives without any concealment. The different outcomes depend on the degree of its malevolence. To me, the result of either seduction or combat is the same: "the brave will prevail when paths cross."

My gaze had already fallen on the doorway of the study, where a huge, round, gray futon had appeared out of nowhere. A boy with a shaved head, about a year old, was sitting upright on the futon, biting his finger and turning his head to look into the study.

He was wearing a Chinese-style red floral cotton-padded jacket and trousers, a type of homespun clothing that is virtually unseen in Japan today, but is most prevalent in remote rural areas of western China. The light shone on his bald head, creating a glaring reflection.

My teeth chattered as I hissed, gasping for breath: "How did this child appear...where did he come from? I was the only one on the second floor just now..."

The boy seemed to hear my voice and slowly turned his head towards the stairwell. My body was in a state of extreme shock and trembling. There was no way to avoid it, so I could only grit my teeth and take a step up to the second-floor floor.

Under normal circumstances, he would definitely show some expression when he sees me, such as crying in fear, laughing, or babbling. In short, he would react differently. However, he only glanced in my direction, then turned back and continued looking into the study, as if I were invisible.

The creaking of footsteps echoed in the study again. A man gently patted the bookshelf, muttering to himself, "Isn't this it? Why isn't it here? Where is it...?" His voice was deep and resonant, and he spoke fluent Chinese. The slapping of his hands on the bookshelf made a resounding "thud," each sound as powerful as a blow to my chest.

"What is he looking for? Who is he?" I tiptoed forward two steps, and saw a figure with extremely broad shoulders standing in front of the bookshelf, facing the study door. The man's hair was very short, as if it had been recently shaved and was just beginning to grow new hair. His temples were high and prominent, clearly indicating that he was a martial arts master with extremely high internal strength.

He was wearing a gray cotton-padded jacket and trousers, just like the boy sitting on the futon. I looked closely at his feet; he was wearing a pair of black, short-topped Japanese military boots—no wonder they were making such a loud noise. This kind of attire was quite different from that of a burglar breaking into a house; he was making too much noise…

I noticed a huge change in the study—"What? All the bookshelves have been reversed? Impossible...impossible..."

The towering bookshelves, which had been placed east-west, were suddenly arranged north-south. The shelves, filled with books, were extremely heavy. Even if someone had extraordinary strength and could easily move them, it would not be done silently, since I only had less than five minutes to search downstairs.

"Hey friend, what are you looking for?" I gripped the knife tightly between my thumb and forefinger, my eyes fixed on the man's acupoint at the back of his neck. In close combat, the power and reliability of a knife gave me more confidence than a firearm.

No one answered; the two people, one big and one small, were both busy with their own things and ignored what I said.

The man's right hand rested on a shelf of a bookshelf. It was long and strong, with prominent, bulging muscles on the back of his hand, demonstrating a mastery of both internal and external skills, a level of consummate skill in his palms and fingers. I knew that this man was the most skilled fighter I had ever encountered in my life, and if we were to fight, I would only have a 20% chance of winning.

"Friend, shall we turn back and talk?" I softened my tone. Since the scalpel had thoroughly searched the study and the collection of books, the other party probably wouldn't find anything and would only be wasting their time.

"Feng, where do you think that book went? The method of hiding 'Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches, the Twelve Jiazi, and the Five Elements Escape Technique' is something no one else on Earth can crack. The timeline is also correct; look, the position and rotation speed of the bell guardians are accurate, but why can't I find it..."

I was taken aback, thinking they were calling my name.

The boy on the ground started babbling and patted the cushion with his chubby little hands.

I was about to speak again when, in an instant, it felt as if a strange, eerie wind had swept through the room. A shiver ran through me, and my thoughts underwent a dramatic shift: "I...I...this boy is...me when I was a child..."

The feeling I have right now is exactly the same strange memory that came to me when Master Xianyun held my hand—the boy on the ground is me, and the one standing in the study is my elder brother Yang Tian.

I stumbled back four or five steps, almost bumping into the back of the sofa: "I've stumbled into past memories? This is a 'wormhole'! It must be a 'wormhole' in time..." After spending at least five minutes clearing my mind, I rushed into the study, wanting to give my older brother a big hug. He was my only family on Earth, and our brotherly bond was something that no amount of time travel could change.

I lunged at nothing, passing right through his body, as if I were embracing only a shadow.

As I turned around, I saw him deep in thought, looking up at the roof. At the very center of the intersection of the four corners of the roof hung a bright yellow compass, its diameter a full half meter.

The eldest brother's face was slightly sallow, but his eyes were bright and piercing, with a light that seemed to penetrate everything. His eyebrows were dark and heavy, with the ends raised, trembling constantly as the skin on his brow bone twisted.

"The location and time are accurate. Could it be... could it be... that someone broke in? Heh... I don't understand. Is there anyone else on Earth who understands these distant calculation methods? Wind, do you know?" He reached out and touched his straight nose, made a "bewildered" expression, shrugged slightly, and turned back towards the door.

I wanted to call out, "Big Brother—" but my throat suddenly choked up.

Since learning of his disappearance, I haven't used that title for a long time, because I know that apart from "King of Tomb Raiders" Yang Tian, no one is worthy to be my elder brother, Yang Feng. That title belongs only to him.

He slowly walked out of the study, sat on the floor, leaned against the door frame, and stared blankly at "me" on the futon.

I discovered another strange thing in the study: the bookshelves were only half full, instead of being completely full as I had seen them countless times before.

I climbed off the cushion and onto his lap.

His hand was on my back, his index finger outstretched, unconsciously scribbling. I could understand it; over and over, it was the four Arabic numerals "2007".

“2007—” he sighed, reaching out to hug “me”.

"2007! Wind, tell me, before 2007, can I salvage this critically lost situation?"

I could only see his profile; the muscles in his jaw were contorted in a horribly throbbing motion, clearly as he carefully controlled his volatile emotions. He was searching for something very important, hidden in a secret place he thought no one could decipher, but now, the thing was gone.

I nodded, flailing my arms and legs, and letting out a joyful laugh.

The older brother laughed too: "Feng, you know I can do it? You little thing, you know that too?"

This was truly the strangest experience. I saw "me" learning to speak, and I saw "me" living in the past.

I didn't know how to approach them until the sky outside the window gradually brightened. They were like dried water-writing paper, all the writing and images had disappeared.

I sat down against the door frame, in the spot where my older brother had just been sitting. I rubbed my cold hands together and then rubbed my face hard twice.

Without a doubt, when my elder brother constructed the Xunfu Garden many years ago, he did indeed conduct a meticulous calculation of his destiny. From the few terms he just mentioned, one can see that he is extremely proficient in the Five Elements and destiny.

The "Nine-Headed Bird Struggling for Its Life" and the "Arrow Through the Heart" were both deliberately orchestrated by him—"Then, what was his purpose?" No one would place themselves in a dangerous situation unless they had ulterior motives or had devised a different method to break the guidance.

I looked at the spot where the prayer cushion had been, and thought back to myself as a child, chubby and incredibly cute. However, I couldn't see my own face clearly, just as one can never see their true self in a mirror.

The glow of dawn streamed through the window, and the old clock suddenly struck, exactly one "dong" (a soft, sharp sound).

I heard some unknown birds chirping outside the window, and I also heard someone open the door on the first floor and come in. I suddenly felt a chill and immediately became clear-headed: "It was a dream! I had a dream, right?" Because I was still leaning on the sofa, and the laptop in front of me had already entered automatic sleep mode.

I sprang up and glided to the study doorway. Everything in the study was still the same as before; the bookshelves were still arranged east to west, piled high with books, leaving almost no space.

"Was it really a dream? But why did what I saw feel so real..." I leaned against the doorframe and tentatively called out, "Big brother, big brother, are you there?"

This was a hallucination far more real than a "dream." It felt more like watching a real documentary. As a viewer, the immersive experience made me almost forget who I was—was that babbling boy "me"? What was the older brother searching for? Did he find it...?

"Mr. Feng, Mr. Feng? Are you up yet?" It was Xiao Keleng's voice as she walked upstairs.

I suddenly looked up at the study's ceiling. Just like in my dream, there were two diagonally opposite square beams, but no giant compass. The beams were painted bronze, and they seemed to have been coated with a thick layer of varnish, so they were emitting a dark red glow.

"A compass? The method my brother mentioned for hiding secrets must require the guidance of a compass. So where did the compass go?" I scratched the back of my head, deep in thought.

“Mr. Feng—” Xiao Keleng’s running shoes touched the floor as lightly as a kitten dancing.

I turned to look at her. Perhaps I looked too disheveled after lying on the sofa for half the night, because I clearly surprised her: "What's wrong? Mr. Feng, did you not sleep well last night?" She had changed into a black tracksuit and black running shoes, and her hair, which had just been washed, was still wet and glistening.

I gave a wry smile: "Yes, I didn't sleep very well."

There's always been an unspoken barrier between me and Xiao Keleng, unlike with Su Lun, where I can speak freely and discuss important matters. A strong longing welled up in my heart; I really wanted to see Su Lun immediately and tell her all my doubts. Perhaps only Su Lun could truly help me; no one else could possibly be on the same page as me, and Xiao Keleng was, of course, excluded.

I walked back to the sofa and casually typed a few words on the keyboard to turn the computer screen on. Unexpectedly, Suren's email didn't arrive as promised; my inbox remained empty. A sense of emptiness washed over me, and all I wanted to do was call Suren immediately and pour out my intense longing. Without her, I felt aimless, stumbling around aimlessly, making no progress whatsoever.

“Mr. Feng, if there is anything you need me to do, please don’t hesitate to ask.” Xiao Ke stood obediently to his side, like a well-behaved maid.

Outside the window, the roar of a car engine could be heard, mixed with Wang Jiangnan's steady and confident voice: "You guys, go to Sapporo Airport immediately to prepare to welcome Mr. Feng's friend. Be sure to be back before lunch and report to me immediately."

He must be very proud to have the opportunity to demonstrate his abilities to Guan Baoling. They say "a scholar will die for one who understands him," but for him it should be "a scholar will be busy for one who understands him." With the Divine Gun Society's influence at work, we'll likely see a disheveled Yelan by lunchtime.

I need help, but not from Xiao Keleng, but from Su Lun.

“Mr. Feng, two of Mr. Zhang Baisen’s friends will arrive at the villa today. They are both members of this Sino-Japanese exchange group. I have already spoken with Mr. Zhang, and we have basically reached a consensus that we will stand on the same Chinese side. They are willing to help with any strange things that happen in the villa, and they will do so voluntarily without accepting any compensation.”

Xiao Keleng's expression concealed a hint of joy. Of course, the more helpers the better. Looking at the young punks that Wang Jiangnan brought, they were only enough to deal with the Yamaguchi-gumi's thugs. Once they encountered a martial arts master, they would probably die without even knowing who killed them.

I leaned wearily against the sofa, a question suddenly popping into my head, and blurted out, "Xiao Xiao, how much do you know about the 'Fanged Demon'?" The thought of almost mistaking "me" for the Fanged Demon in my dream made me blush with embarrassment at my absurd idea. The afterglow turned into sunlight, shining on me with a faint warmth. With the sun rising, all the terror and ambiguity of the night vanished.

Xiao Keleng gave an "Oh," then her face suddenly darkened. "This... Mr. Feng, why are you asking this all of a sudden? Did something strange happen last night?" Although she tried to remain calm, her hands clenched involuntarily, and the smile on her face was completely replaced by gloom.

Unexpectedly, she reacted so strongly. I closed the computer screen and looked intently at her face: "Something strange did happen, right here in the study. I saw two people, one big and one small, and they seemed to be looking for something. Has anyone else encountered something similar?"

After being awake for half an hour, I still couldn't be entirely sure it was a "dream," because dreams are illusory, born from the mind, and always contain many bizarre and illogical elements. What I experienced seemed to be a complete reenactment of a past memory. I believe that this "dream" was entirely the result of Master Xianyun's spiritual intervention, and I have a premonition that more fragments of memories will surface in the days to come.

"Mr. Feng, it's best if you know as little as possible about the 'Fang Demon.' It's said that this kind of filthy creature can see through people's thoughts and will even come looking for them by following their thoughts."

According to legend, it is the night watchman of Amaterasu, wandering throughout the twelve hours of night and being an enemy of humans. I don't know much about this thing, so I have basically nothing to say..."

Her expression betrayed her secret, which I didn't want to reveal, nor was there any need to. If I really wanted to know something, I had countless ways to find out.

Right now, the most important thing is to contact Suren and see when she can come to Hokkaido.

The reason I miss Su Lun is not just because of the delicate relationship between men and women, but more importantly, because she can provide me with support in my work and career, like a right-hand woman.

My phone was fully charged, and I hesitated before dialing Su Lun's number, unsure if she was still asleep.

Sure enough, Suren's voice was clearly tinged with sleepiness: "Brother Feng, the internet here was down all night, so I couldn't send it. Today I'll go to Xianyang City and use the museum's network equipment to send the pictures over—um, Brother Feng, the village I live in is called 'Destroyed Promise Pit,' isn't that a bit strange? You really should come and see it; I suspect we might make some earth-shattering grave-digging discoveries here..."

She kept rambling on and on, but my mind was already wandering to completely unrelated places.

If Xiao Keleng hadn't been there, I think I would have whispered some passionate words that only lovers in the throes of passion would say. Hearing Su Lun's voice was like someone who had been thirsty for three days suddenly receiving an ice-cold Coca-Cola; I was overjoyed even before I took a sip.

As someone in the world of tomb raiding, the topic of "grave digging" naturally piques my interest immediately.

"The place names, village names, and mountain names here are all extremely rustic, like Wangjia Village, Lijiazhuang, Zhaojiagou, and Laoguashan. Only this 'Broken Promise Pit' has a refined village name and an inscription by Qin Dynasty Prime Minister Li Si. The Qin stele unearthed twenty years ago has been sent to the Xianyang City Museum for preservation. Brother Feng, after more than two days of data verification, I suspect that the 'Broken Promise Pit' is related to Qin Shi Huang's most famous 'Burning of Books and Burying of Scholars.' If we can mobilize manpower and resources to form a large archaeological team, we will definitely make some discoveries."

At this point, Suren paused briefly, then continued flipping through the pages of his book, "I've copied down every county annals, village chronicles, unofficial histories, and ancient text I could find..."

Her topic strayed a bit, and besides, the excavation of underground cultural relics has always been controlled by the state. Even if something is discovered, individuals have no right to dispose of the treasures that have been unearthed. Therefore, I don't think it's necessary to devote too much energy to those materials.