King of Tomb Raiders

Chapter 134

I sighed deeply, "I can tell. Please speak your mind and don't waste time." I didn't want to cause any more trouble in front of Suren, fearing that Tina's enthusiasm would become endless and make me extremely embarrassed. I understood her feelings for me, but under the current circumstances, I could only politely decline; I couldn't accept them.

Tina's enthusiasm was immediately dampened, and she smiled awkwardly, "It's nothing, just calling to say hello. Thank you, goodbye."

Our entire conversation consisted of only three sentences. She wisely hung up the phone, thankfully not putting me in too much of a difficult position.

The materials totaled no less than four hundred pages, mostly photocopies of ancient books and archaeological photographs. Every few pages, a wavy red line would appear prominently under certain text, clearly indicating the most important points to focus on.

"This is the compass photograph I obtained. It's very strange because... I sent the shredded sample to the four major European steel companies, requesting detailed analysis reports. As a result, they all detected trace amounts of chlorine molecules in the sample, and when heated to over 3,000 degrees Celsius without restriction, the sample's color underwent a bizarre change, turning a pure red—"

I listened very carefully. The image had a high resolution and was very lifelike, but no matter how I looked at it, it was just a compass cast on a base. Apart from being hundreds of times larger than a miniature compass, it had nothing else unusual about it.

“I have consulted many metal experts, and they have always believed that these sample fragments are nothing more than heresies created by some scientist in a laboratory. At least among the metals that exist on Earth, none of them require the participation of chlorine gas in their formation process, but only the oxygen needed for combustion. Although these metal fragments are similar to iron in terms of hardness, appearance, density, and mass, they can by no means be called iron.”

Suren tapped her slender fingers lightly on the picture, lost in thought.

"What does that mean? The metal, the people, and the technology used to forge this compass don't belong to Earth, but to aliens?" I tried to lighten my tone, but I couldn't.

“Yes, you’re absolutely right!” Schiller spread his hands easily, with the kind of humor typical of Americans that’s hard to tell if it’s true or not.

I responded with a cold laugh: "If the compass was brought out of the Epang Palace by the old farmers, and they insist that it is a historical relic, then it means that during the time when Qin Shi Huang built the Epang Palace, the Qin people had already successfully developed the compass and invented the strange technique of adding chlorine gas during the iron casting process, is that right, Mr. Schiller?"

Schiller nodded again, snapped his fingers, and answered easily, "Absolutely right."

I quickly continued, "Then please tell me, when was the earliest tool for determining direction, the 'Sinan,' invented and widely used in China? If the Qin Dynasty's productivity was that advanced, they would have already marched into the Red Sea like Genghis Khan, allowing the Qin infantry to conquer every corner of the earth. Haha, it's simply... utterly absurd!"

All I wanted to say to Schiller, this pseudo-biologist, was that archaeology isn't about sitting in a lab and letting your imagination run wild; it's about exploring step by step, digging things out with your feet firmly on the ground. Those who love to fantasize are only fit to sit in front of a computer as third-rate novelists, not to pretentiously search for some second Epang Palace.

“Haha, I have to say again, Mr. Feng is absolutely right, and his words are well-founded and logical, but why don’t you listen to Miss Suren’s thoughts?” Schiller cleverly shifted my criticism to Suren.

The Sinan first appeared during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods and was the earliest magnetic compass in ancient times. However, due to limitations in the availability of ore, grinding techniques, and pointing accuracy, its practical application was not significant. It was not until the Northern Song Dynasty, with the advanced development of technology, that more advanced compass fish and compasses emerged, which are the prototypes of the modern north-pointing needle.

If the people of the Qin Dynasty had been able to invent a highly accurate compass, then the fleets sent overseas to search for the "elixir of immortality" would not have repeatedly lost their way, drifted on the sea with the monsoon winds, and perished in the process.

“Brother Feng, what we need to discuss is only what actually exists, not historical records. As you know, history is just the private notes of rulers, which can be rewritten however they want. A tyrant can become a benevolent ruler, and a phoenix can become a crow, all depending on the pen of the recorder. If we disregard history, and this compass was indeed taken from some ancient tomb, don’t you think it has some value worth exploring?”

Suren solemnly held up the piece of paper: "Let's call this thing a compass for now, but I believe that as the exploration progresses, we will definitely discover its true function."

I waved my hand with a wry smile, indicating that I was waving no flag and didn't want to argue any further.

Schiller gave another cold laugh, as if standing with Suren and sharing the same views was the most powerful blow to me. I no longer bothered to pay attention to Schiller; the key issue now was whether Suren would slide further and further down this wrong path, simply wasting precious time.

Suren stared at my face, then suddenly sighed repeatedly. She reorganized the documents and said in a low voice, "I'm leaving Hokkaido tomorrow. Take care, everyone."

If it were me, I would also feel incredibly disappointed when others showed no interest in my research results. I guess that's probably how Suren felt right now.

"Call General Tina back when you have time. She was injured in the desert earthquake and has just woken up. Actually, we've all known each other, and we'll definitely meet again in the future. It wouldn't be good for anyone if things got awkward." Suren's words shocked me, and I regretted it immediately.

After I informed Tina about the impending change at the Turkhan Pyramid, I received no further response and forgot about it. I didn't expect her to be injured. My coldness on the phone just now must have hurt her again. I picked up the file bag, nodded silently to Suren, and left the courtyard.

Actually, I really wanted to say something more to Suren. If Schiller hadn't been there, we could have discussed certain points more gently and then rationally formulated the next direction of our exploration. If Suren were to point out my mistakes, I would humbly accept them. At least under the current circumstances, Suren is the only intelligent person who truly understands me, and only she is qualified to criticize me.

No one stopped me. In my last glance back, I saw Suren and Schiller standing side by side under the cherry blossom tree, almost inseparable.

I vaguely sensed that the atmosphere inside Fengge Temple was becoming heavy, and a chilling murderous aura seemed to be rapidly spreading throughout the darkness.

After walking a few dozen steps westward, before I even reached the small courtyard where I lived, a group of fully armed men came running towards me at high speed. In addition to submachine guns, pistols, and grenades, each of them had two iron canisters the size of military water bottles hanging from their belts, one red and one green, which were quite dazzling even under the dim streetlights.

They wore milky-white gas masks hanging from their chests, special equipment only used by biological weapons units, indicating that the contents of those two iron canisters were definitely related to biological weapons.

The group consisted of sixteen people who moved mysteriously, ignoring me completely, and headed straight east.

I know that all of the Japanese military actions are likely related to Sun Long's visit. If he really came for me, that would be incredibly unwise. I looked up and gave a bitter smile. The more I tried to stay away from the vortex of martial arts battles, the more I was involuntarily drawn in. No matter where I was, the martial arts world was always before me.

Stepping into the courtyard, the light in Guan Baoling's room was on, clearly illuminating the floral and bird patterns on the sliding door, creating a peaceful and tranquil atmosphere. In a perilous environment, being able to temporarily forget the storms and dangers outside in this quiet courtyard and enjoy a moment of solitude is a kind of joy stolen from a busy life.

However, this secret joy lasted less than three minutes before Xiao Lai emerged from the shadows like a ghost, his face still covered in glistening beads of sweat, looking worried.

"Mr. Feng, there's a phone call for you. It's from Mr. Sun." He held a Nokia mobile phone in his hand, typed a number on the keypad, and handed it to me. As soon as I took it, I felt the warmth and dampness of the phone; clearly, Xiao Lai had been extremely nervous.

A hearty male voice came through the receiver: "Feng, it's me, Sun Long. How are you?"

As the leader of the Divine Gun Society, Sun Long never put on airs with his friends and subordinates, always addressing them by their first names and calling them brothers. He often referred to himself as "Song Jiang, the Timely Rain of Shandong," and his reputation and credibility in the martial arts world were impeccable.

I smiled and replied, "I'm fine. I heard you were going to visit me at Fengge Temple. Is it really necessary under the current circumstances?"

Sun Long certainly knew that the important figure was at Fengge Temple, and his insistence on coming was probably a ploy to provoke him.

Xiao Lai wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, listening intently to the repeated hurried footsteps outside the wall. He couldn't help but whisper, "If Mr. Sun really comes, it's too dangerous. Within twelve hours, the number of Japanese special police entering Fengge Temple and Muwanzhou Mountain has increased to six hundred. What if something happens to Mr. Sun?"

His voice was neither too loud nor too soft, just enough to reach Sun Long's ears through the microphone.

Sun Long laughed loudly: "Xiao Lai, you've been adventuring in Japan for so long, how come you're getting more and more timid? Who did you learn that from? Did you learn it from Wang Shisan?" When Wang Jiangnan was mentioned, Sun Long's tone became a little strange, and then he sighed a few times.

I also don't want Sun Long's banner to fall easily. After all, in the international case of "comfort women compensation for WWII", he is the head of the legal team and holds a very important position. He is the hope of those poor women who have suffered from the war.

“Actually, I can go back to Xunfuyuan or to Sapporo. There’s no need for Mr. Sun to come. Besides, we haven’t made any progress in finding the ‘Wrath of the Sun God,’ and I’m afraid we won’t be able to get it anytime soon. Why make things tense with the Japanese and cause more trouble?”

Then came the clear creaking sound of a helicopter. I held the microphone up to the sky so Sun Long could hear it.

His laughter drowned out everything, making my ears ring: "Feng, I just want the Japanese to understand that on this small island nation, the Chinese are not afraid of anyone and can disregard everything. I want to remind them of the history of our ancestors who traveled thousands of miles across the sea and rivers to pay tribute to the Tang Dynasty."

I could only manage a silent, bitter smile. The Japanese special police had already surrounded this area. Once they implemented strict communication control, this place would become a blind spot in global communications; even if a bloodbath ensued, no one would know. If you anger a powerful figure, he will show no mercy, especially when facing his most formidable enemy.

"Feng, what do you think about the matter I mentioned last time, asking you to take charge of the Sharpshooter Association's Asian affairs? Like father, like son; brothers fight side by side. I really hope you can join us and contribute to the Chinese people. What do you say?"

He started bringing up the same old things again, leaving me both amused and exasperated. Whether the Sharpshooter Society prospers or not seems to be none of my concern. This collaboration between Xunfuyuan Villa and the Sharpshooter Society is merely a response to Watanabe Castle's rude provocation. As for me, I'd rather be a free spirit, coming and going as I please, unburdened by any constraints.

I replied briefly, "Thank you for your kind offer, but I cannot accept it."

Caught in the middle of the battle between the Japanese and the Sharpshooter Society, my position will become even more precarious. It would be better to withdraw early, neither working for important figures nor associating with the Sharpshooter Society, and to quietly remain uninvolved.

While I was talking to Sun Long, Xiao Lai paced nervously back and forth, like an ant on a hot pan, never stopping for a moment.

Sun Long laughed loudly: "Alright, let's meet and talk tomorrow." Then he hung up.

Xiao Lai retrieved the phone in despair, still unwilling to give up, and asked, "Can't we persuade Mr. Sun Long not to come to the temple? I just got intelligence that the biological warfare department of the special forces has sent four teams over, and they could secretly use biological weapons at any time. Can firearms and fists stop those invisible bacteria? Mr. Feng, can you think of another way?"

He was extremely loyal to the Sharpshooter Society, but he wasn't quick-witted enough to appreciate Sun Long's good intentions.

This time, Sun Longzhi was determined to make a name for himself. He not only wanted to come, but to come in grand style and leave gracefully, just like Guan Yu's solo journey to the banquet, creating a timeless legend. But what about a powerful figure who possesses the right timing, location, and popular support? Would he be content to play the cowardly and incompetent Lu Su?

To lead such a large martial arts gang as the Divine Spear Society, Sun Long's strategic vision is undoubtedly superb; every move he makes is imbued with profound meaning, beyond my comprehension. It's just a pity for the loyal Xiao Lai, who keeps sighing and complaining.

At 11 p.m., I turned off the light and lay in bed, but instead of feeling sleepy, my mind became increasingly clear.

"Hopefully, Fujika will be able to provide more useful information tomorrow. If the target is the 'Wrath of the Sun God,' then we must ask Fujika to tell us which route to take to reach the 'Underwater Tomb.' Where is the suddenly appearing 'Key of Destiny'? Is it still in Maple Temple, or has it been scattered to some corner of the world?"

Before my eyes, the crystal-clear waters of the "Well of Spiritual Communication" surged and churned. Imagine Master Jianzhen leading his ten disciples as they leaped into the water; such selfless sacrifice is truly awe-inspiring. Isn't there any other way to get in? My idea is to use a miniature underwater propulsion device. With its propulsion, divers could reach the bottom, provided they have sufficient compressed oxygen.

What lies at the end of the well? The palace Guan Baoling encountered? The transparent glass box we shared? Or a mysterious underwater structure constantly emitting red light? Or perhaps we find nothing at all, returning empty-handed after countless hardships.

I can't guess what's most frightening is that the frequent earthquakes off the coast of Japan, even several times a year or several times a month, have completely damaged the entrance to the "underwater tomb." If that happens, even the King of Heaven himself would be helpless.

Volume Three, The Well of Spirits

Part 1: Clash of Titans

— Chapter 4 - Going to the Meeting Alone —

In the hazy light, I heard the whooshing sound of someone passing by on the rooftop. I sprang to my feet and rolled to the side, wary of a sneak attack. The black-clad ninja in "Youhuang Water County," injured by Fujika, would certainly not let the matter rest.

All around was quiet. The sound of the wind only appeared once and then disappeared. Separated by a wall, Guan Baoling was completely silent, probably already soundly asleep—"Will she leave tomorrow? Or the day after tomorrow, or the day after that, and we pass each other by, never to meet again?" My nose stung, and I suddenly wanted to get drunk and forget everything about her, including that strange experience in the glass box.

Once again, I thought of that resounding adage: "She is—the woman of a tycoon!"

When I woke up at dawn, I felt extremely dizzy and lightheaded, especially in my limbs and joints, which were sore and painful. I had never felt so weak before.

The weather outside remained sunny, seemingly not a suitable day for a treacherous banquet or a solo trip.

The first person to knock on the door wasn't Xiao Lai, but Master Shenbi, the abbot of Fengge Temple. He had clearly lost weight; the lively spirit in his eyes was gone, and his once upright posture had become somewhat hunched. The temple had been plagued by a series of upheavals, and the situation had deteriorated rapidly, beyond his control. Furthermore, with the arrival of important figures, special police had infiltrated every suspicious inch of the temple. His position as abbot was destined to become a mere figurehead, his reputation utterly ruined.

“Mr. Feng, I’ve brought you something. Please take a look.” He was holding a glossy sandalwood box, about twenty centimeters square, with countless layers of maple leaves carved in intaglio all over it.

"What is this?" I didn't reach out to take it, but the box must be very old. The dark luster was formed by the sweat from many people touching it, similar to the polishing process of "playing with jade" in the antique market.

He gently lifted the lid of the box, revealing a pure white jade plaque neatly set against a black velvet lining. The plaque was the size of a standard playing card, with a delicate, blood-red, short-handled scythe engraved in its center. The red scythe against the white jade background resembled a sudden stain of blood on snow, strikingly glaring and utterly eerie.

It was only then that I noticed Master Shenbi was wearing a brand new gray robe, with a similarly brand new white sash around his waist; his attire seemed somewhat strange. The sickle-shaped jade pendant in the box had been extensively reported on in the Asahi Shimbun. It was a token of the successive abbots of Fuge-ji Temple, passed down from generation to generation. Moreover, the red color wasn't painted on, but rather the ten drops of blood from each abbot's ten fingers, collected after incense burning and bathing upon assuming office.

Fine jade naturally absorbs the essence of human blood, accumulating over time to become what it is today.

“Mr. Feng, with your vast knowledge, you certainly understand the meaning behind this sickle-shaped jade tablet. Master Bumenlu has passed on the ‘Yin-Yang Divine Power’ to you, so you should become the next abbot of Fengge Temple. I am old, but my understanding has not changed with the years, just as Master Kamekawa has always concluded about me—‘A stubborn rock cannot be transformed into a beautiful jade.’ Your appearance is the moment for me to abdicate, so this jade tablet must be given to you…”

I was stunned for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter, because Master Shenbi's words were utterly absurd. I am a native Chinese; how could I possibly become the abbot of a Japanese Buddhist temple? It simply doesn't make sense, neither morally nor logically. Besides, I was merely a passerby at Fuuka-ji Temple; who would want to be an abbot?

“Mr. Feng, please do not disappoint Master Bumenlu’s earnest hope to impart divine power. He once said that this mysterious power is only passed on to those who are destined to receive it. He has been secluded in the treehouse for so many years in order to preserve his spiritual and physical strength, to live a difficult life, and to wait for the destined person to appear.”

He tried to put the box in my hand, but I grabbed my left index finger and flicked it lightly, hitting his elbow and rendering his right hand immobile.

“Master Shenbi, I will soon leave Fengge Temple and Hokkaido, and it is impossible for me to have any connection with the temple. The fact that Master Bumenlu taught me martial arts was just a coincidence, and I will never use this kind of martial arts again. I am Chinese, and unless I die and am reincarnated, how could I possibly become the abbot here?”

Suddenly, a low, hoarse chanting sounded outside the courtyard. At least a hundred people spoke at the same time, and an inexplicable sense of sorrow enveloped the small courtyard.

Master Shenbi's body trembled, and the jade pendant suddenly sprang from the box. The red velvet cord tied to it silently unfurled, like a giant noose, and fell towards my head. According to the rules of Japanese Buddhist temples, placing a token over the head signifies that the person has tacitly agreed to succeed the temple's heir.

I had just gotten up when I encountered this inexplicable "coercion." I had no patience to deal with it, so I sneered, "Why force people to do things they don't want to do?" I lunged forward, my right elbow striking Master Shenbi in the ribs, forcing him to step back. I had already leaped out of the house and landed in the courtyard.

The air is fresh, carrying the desolate atmosphere unique to winter, instantly making one feel open and relaxed.

I know I'll receive a call from Sun Long soon. In today's "solo meeting" drama, I have no choice but to play a supporting role and grit my teeth to go through this ordeal.

"Mr. Feng, please wait. News of your acquisition of Master Bumenri's 'Yin-Yang Divine Power' has spread throughout Japan. Even if you don't acknowledge yourself as the abbot of Fuuki-ji Temple, you still have an unbreakable connection with the temple. Please consider this carefully! The Imperial Household will officially issue a decree within a few days, announcing you as the new abbot of Fuuki-ji Temple and adding you to the list of members of the Buddhist Temple Management Association—"

Master Shenbi pursued closely, dropping the sandalwood box, grabbing the jade pendant, and turning to follow me.

The chanting of the monks outside the courtyard wall suddenly rose, as if in response to Master Shenbi's relentless pursuit.

"I have no interest in being the abbot of Fengge Temple, nor am I in the mood to listen to your chanting. Master, please leave!" I said with a cold smile, dismissing them.

"Mr. Feng, you must promise me, no matter what—" Master Shenbi's incessant chatter really angered me, and the little bit of goodwill I had for him vanished. Before he could finish his rambling, I reached out my right hand, grabbed his left wrist with a thud, and suddenly twisted it, throwing him straight away.

In this move, he couldn't help but use the "Yin-Yang Divine Power" from Master Bumenlu. Master Shenbi spun high over the courtyard wall, and with a chorus of exclamations from the monks, he fell with a thud.

Just then, Guan Baoling's door was flung open, and she poked half her body out, asking in surprise, "What is it?"

Her hair was disheveled, as if she had just woken up and hadn't had time to wash or comb it. Only a corner of her lipstick remained on her lips, like a withered plum blossom in winter, carrying a poignant and tragic beauty.

"What happened? I heard chanting, and people are fighting?" She raised her eyebrows and looked around the yard in confusion.

All the monks rushed to take care of Master Shenbi, so of course no one had time to continue chanting the sutras, finally giving me some peace and quiet.

"It's alright, it's alright." In front of Guan Baoling, I wanted to always maintain my noble elegance. Even if I couldn't compete with the tycoon in terms of money and status, at least I could still maintain the dignity of a young man and leave her with a beautiful memory.

"That's good!" She smiled, pursed her lips, and wiped away the corner of her lipstick. Suddenly remembering something, her expression turned melancholy. "Today I will be leaving Fengge Temple, and we may never see each other again. Feng, I want to sincerely say 'thank you.' Without you, I might still be locked up in that glass box! I told Mr. Ye about our strange encounter, and he asked me to thank you on his behalf. He also wrote a check from a Swiss bank and sent it over here immediately."

The mere mention of money made me feel as if I had been insulted by a tycoon, so I immediately refused: "I don't want anyone's money. I didn't do anything while I was in the glass box. It was all fate, and no one has to thank anyone else."

If I were to express my gratitude, I would prefer to do so myself, thanking her for giving me such wonderful memories, for being with her, for having the opportunity to do things for her that no one else could replace, and for maintaining my "unique" role in her life. Men are all selfish and narcissistic, regardless of the era or age; they all hope to be a precious, everlasting memory in a girl's heart.