King of Tomb Raiders

Chapter 164

“Feng, actually we can go to the meditation hall and talk while we look around. I know you’ll be interested in that. About underground exploration, about the appearance of the Wind Forest Fire Mountain, and about the Fang Demon—” Tanino was Japanese after all. No matter how composed he appeared, he would always inadvertently reveal a hint of the cunning inherent in his nature.

He pointed towards the meditation hall, the mole on his brow bone trembling violently.

I sneered, patted my sleeve where the bloodstains were starting to dry, and immediately declined his invitation: "Thank you for your kindness, but I have more important matters to attend to. Perhaps we can talk another day. The 'King of Tomb Raiders' is one of the martial arts masters I respect, so I'd very much like to see what makes you confident in challenging him?"

Tani's face was pale from lack of sunlight, and he was clearly taken aback, perhaps because he hadn't expected me to resist this mysterious temptation.

When dealing with Japanese people, whether they are arrogant nobles or unknown poor people, I am always careful to avoid any free lunches. Many things look beautiful, but once you step into them, they are definitely difficult traps.

I stood up, nodded politely to him, and walked towards the front door without hesitation.

Of course, I really want to find out what's going on beneath the Meditation Hall, but I would never rashly go with Tano. He's been imprisoned by Fenglin Huoshan for three years; who knows what his temperament has become? A so-called "top tomb raider" must have focused all his attention on tomb raiding, and his way of thinking is already very different from ordinary people. I'd better be careful.

Just think about how Tanino Shinji acted in the Egyptian desert, and you'll understand the domineering and arrogant way the Japanese do things. If you don't want to get hurt, it's best not to accept any olive branches they extend to you.

"Wind, please wait—"

Tani quickly caught up, and the sharp blade in the scabbard emitted a strange "clang" sound.

Although I have always downplayed the forging technique of the Dragon-Slaying Saber, the era of cold weapons has long passed. Among the artisans in various Asian countries who still practice this ancient craft, almost none can surpass him. Therefore, every sword he craftsmen produces will be a treasured blade capable of killing tens of thousands without dulling its edge.

If Gu Ye were to attack me, the outcome would be evenly matched. At least in terms of orthodox martial arts, I would not admit defeat to anyone.

"What is it?" My tone was extremely cold.

Gu Ye tucked the sword into his belt, a smile spreading across his wrinkled face: "Feng, I'll have the meditation hall cleaned, ready for your visit anytime. You're a friend of the Dragon Slayer Sword, and I happen to be an old friend of his too, so I think we'll definitely become friends as well, don't you think?"

As a veteran in the tomb raiding world, if he were to be so polite to others, they would likely be flattered and eager to learn more from him. Unfortunately, the first person he encountered after breaking free from the control of the wind, forest, fire, and mountain was me, and I have never been interested in so-called "experts" from Japan.

"Perhaps, I hope so." He had already extended his slender, long right hand, so I had no choice but to reach out and shake his hand.

"I wish us both get what we need! Happy cooperation!" He smiled, his cheeks, the corners of his eyes, the corners of his mouth, his forehead... everywhere was covered with fine wrinkles, which fully showed that he had gone through a very unpleasant period before.

As I stepped out the door, I couldn't help but wonder: "After so much contemplation, what exactly did Gu Ye understand? Is everything in the dome controlled by the wind, forest, fire, and mountain? Where did he go after he escaped?"

To the northeast lies Youhuangshui County, where Tengjia practiced his cultivation. With the "Sea God's Inscription" on my mind, I walked through four or five side alleys without stopping, crossed the bamboo forest, and stepped onto the bamboo bridge.

The bamboo gate was ajar; a gentle push revealed the entire scene within the bamboo walls. In the past, when I came here, even in the dead of winter, all the bamboo was lush and green, its branches and leaves abundant. This time, the bamboo leaves were all withered and yellow, drooping listlessly. The water under the bridge was also much shallower, exposing the blue stones beneath in most places.

The entire courtyard was quiet, with only the occasional creaking of the bamboo bridge beneath our feet.

Inside the bamboo pavilion, the bamboo couch and ancient zither remain, in the same positions where Teng Jia used to cultivate here, but sadly, she is now dead. Countless changes can occur in a single night—life and death, defeat and reunion—a drama far more complex and unpredictable than any movie plot.

I sat down on the bamboo couch, not in a hurry to find the plaque. Just like the ending of the "Blue Heaven and Yellow Springs Sutra," without Tengjia's deciphering and enlightenment, the sutra and the plaque are dead; no one can understand their meaning, they are just meaningless waste.

A gust of wind blew by, leaving behind only broken stones and shimmering water, but not a single fish was to be seen. It seemed that with the departure of Tengjia, Youhuang Water County had suddenly lost its vitality.

The fourth super weapon

— Chapter 4 — The Strange Characters in Youhuang Water County (Part 2) —

Suddenly, the strings of the zither in front of me were blown by the wind, producing a tinkling sound. It was the coldest time of late winter, and the cold wind cut like a knife. The originally bright and pleasant sunlight seemed to have become weak and powerless after being blown by the cold wind, and could not shine into this damp little courtyard.

The instrument is about one meter long, entirely purplish-black, with a vermilion seal engraved on the left end. I have a friend who is the most famous musical instrument collector in Hong Kong Island, who once said, "A guqin with a vermilion seal is no ordinary piece." If it weren't a peerless masterpiece, the maker certainly wouldn't dare to engrave a vermilion seal on it.

"The sound of the zither can connect with spirits and gods. Those who are truly obsessed with the zither will transform their heart and soul into the notes on their fingertips, and only then can they play the masterpiece that says, 'This music should only exist in heaven, how often can it be heard on earth?' Perhaps it was through the music of the ancients Bo Ya and Zi Qi that they poured their emotions into the zither, which led to their beautiful exchange of poems, 'High Mountains and Flowing Water'?"—These are his original words, spoken in the zither collection room of his mansion in Causeway Bay, and they remain vivid in my memory to this day.

The seal is engraved with the two characters "Five Lakes". Perhaps due to its age, the edges have been worn, but the vermilion color that comes from the wood itself is still incredibly vibrant.

The zither music kept playing, which puzzled me, when suddenly I heard the clear and melodious sound of a xiao (vertical bamboo flute).

The Japanese people's love for the xiao (vertical bamboo flute) can be traced back to the Tang and Song dynasties, and in each imperial family, there were specially appointed xiao-playing singers. To this day, the Japanese xiao playing skills are unparalleled in the world.

If the sound of the flute came from outside the bamboo wall or from further away, it would be perfectly understandable, but clearly, the sound was coming from inside this bamboo pavilion, right beside me.

There was no one around me, only an ancient zither being blown by the wind, which was Tengjia's keepsake.

The sounds of the flute and the zither harmonized, sometimes soaring high into the clouds, sometimes sobbing and melodious, perfectly in sync and pleasing to the ear, as if they were partners who had worked together for many years.

There was indeed no one in sight; I knew it was just my imagination again. Before she died, Teng Jia had also heard the sound of a flute—"Perhaps her soul is immortal and has returned to pluck the strings. If she survived for a thousand years, what about next time? Where will she enter in the next cycle of reincarnation?"

I felt no fear, only a deep sense of sorrow for her fate. Those who believe in destiny can easily face all of life's cycle of birth, aging, sickness, and death, but after her soul was imprisoned for a thousand years, this reincarnation was far too brief, ending in the prime of her life.

A thin woman dressed in black appeared hesitantly at the other end of the bamboo bridge. She walked towards me blankly until she reached the bamboo pavilion. She barely noticed my presence, glanced at the guqin, turned to the left, and suddenly a red steel cable shot out from her right arm, piercing into a pile of rocks that were mostly exposed above the water.

As the steel cable retracted, the huge iron plate was pulled up and landed in her left hand.

We've met her several times; she's the female ninja who has appeared in Youhuangshui County multiple times, and she's also appeared outside the Meditation Hall to signal to me with flags.

She held up the iron plate, facing the sun. Sunlight pierced through the chaotic patterns of tiny holes, creating dappled patterns on her face and body.

"Did Mr. Gu Ye send you?" I didn't leave the bamboo couch; the sounds of the zither and flute in my hallucination continued to play.

The female ninja pondered for a moment, then suddenly sighed, turned, and strode into the pavilion. She gently placed the iron plaque beside the bamboo couch, took out a black handkerchief, and slowly wiped away the water droplets from it. I hadn't realized its importance when I unintentionally brought it back from the glass box.

The iron plaque itself reminds me of the mysteriously vanished Reese. What was she trying to do? After traveling to Hokkaido several times, she inexplicably entered a glass box, experiencing the same miraculous encounters as Guan Baoling and me, before disappearing without a trace, like a suspense novel abruptly cut short, leaving behind a huge, empty question mark.

"With Miss Fujika gone, this sign has lost its purpose." I forgave her indifference; perhaps every man and woman who becomes a ninja has their own code of conduct that they must abide by.

The image on the left of the sign is no longer a six-armed monster, but a long, slender fish with fins and a tail, but clearly with a human head, arms, and legs. It is a combination of a human and a fish, and is definitely not the mermaid, the evolved form of fish in mythology. It looks clumsy and strange, completely lacking the carefree and lively style of mermaids in cartoons.

In the upper right corner of the sign, there were still clouds obscuring the celestial bodies' positions. It's a pity I didn't take pictures of the sign's strange changes beforehand, as this is very valuable information.

“Mr. Tanino said it will be useful to you.” The female ninja raised her head, her narrow eyes glaring at me, her face full of hostility.

I sneered, "Please thank Mr. Gu Ye for his kindness. Whether it's useful or not is not up to him." Gu Ye had just escaped being held hostage, yet he had many concerns, immediately sending people to follow me.

The female ninja had already dried the sign but showed no sign of leaving, standing to the side with her hands at her sides. The meddlesome elephant monk also appeared at the end of the bamboo bridge at just the right time. Fujika's death didn't cause any shock; on the contrary, the restrictions on Youhuang Water County were lifted, and everyone could swagger in and walk around freely.

The monk, carrying a bulging black plastic bag, held it up high as if reporting a victory as soon as he passed through the bamboo gate: "Mr. Feng, here are the clothes you need."

The sound of the flute stopped, and the sound of the zither also weakened with the wind and ceased to play.

I waved to the female ninja: "You can go now."

The female ninja stubbornly shook her head: "No, Mr. Tanino said that Yuhuangshui County is eerie and strange, and perhaps you need my protection." Such warm and pleasant words, when spoken by her, were as cold as ice.

I repeated: "You can leave now. Tell Mr. Tanino that Ms. Fujika is dead. I don't have any topics that interest him. Give up."

With his skillful movements, Tano condescended to learn from me and revealed the results of his exploration of the dome without reservation—he would have had no reason to do so if he didn't need my help.

The female ninja turned and walked away. She lacked Tanino's humility and forbearance, and naturally wouldn't take me seriously. As she brushed past the approaching elephant monk, she sidestepped to let him pass, then slowly crossed the bamboo bridge. A long sword was sheathed diagonally behind her back. For some reason, I felt her expression was very strange, her mood extremely low, completely unlike the arrogance she had displayed in previous encounters.

The monk stepped into the bamboo pavilion, smiling in bewilderment: "Mr. Feng, what are you looking at?"

I withdrew my gaze, thoughtfully opened the plastic bag, and found a brand-new gray suit, along with socks and leather shoes.

"Mr. Feng, what happened at the temple last night was truly shocking. Fortunately, Mr. Tanino has emerged from seclusion. With his influence, a single word from him can make everything go smoothly. Hmm, he has already notified Tokyo, and someone from the Imperial Family will be here soon. After all, Princess Fujika's death will cause quite a stir..."

He kept rambling on and on, which made me feel a little annoyed for a short time.

I got up and walked out of the bamboo pavilion, stepping onto a rock protruding from the water. I bent down, first washing the bloodstains from my hands, then cupping water to wash my face. The reason I didn't rush back to the courtyard was because I was afraid Guan Baoling would worry and be frightened if she saw the blood on my body. The water under my feet instantly turned red, then slowly rippled outwards, gradually deepening in color.

"The important figure will definitely come again. How credible are the words of Tanino Shinji before he died? He said that Fujika was the descendant of the important figure and Tensho Jubei, but so far there is no unusually close relationship between the important figure and Fujika—"

The monk, bored, plucked the strings of his zither, producing a "ding-dong" sound.

I was about to turn around and rebuke him when, in a flash, a dozen lines of clear Han Dynasty characters appeared on the crimson water: "Enter through the 'Well of Spiritual Communication,' swim for thirty-five days, pass through the gap in the dog's mouth, turn upwards, and enter another space. The entrance to the 'Underwater Divine Tomb' is on the eastern stone wall of this space, hundreds of feet high, impossible to climb; one can only wait for the water level to rise. The rise and fall of the water level has nothing to do with the ebb and flow of the tide? All the waters in the world are interconnected, so why is this place different?"

The characters float on the water's surface, possessing a remarkable three-dimensional quality and crystal clarity.

I took a deep breath, memorizing every word and every stroke. Below were a few more lines: "The Six-Armed God and the 'Wrath of the Sun God' do not belong to this world. So why is their existence recorded in the 'Azure Heaven and Yellow Springs Scripture'? And why does it know that the 'Wrath of the Sun God' will one day erupt and dry up the sea? Yi shooting down nine suns, Kuafu chasing the sun, Jingwei filling the sea—could these three legends all be related to the 'Wrath of the Sun God'? The only foolproof solution is to destroy it and overcome it with water."

The writing remained for five minutes, and as the blood gradually faded, all the words slowly disappeared.

I took off my blood-soaked shirt and waded into the water. Although the surface was once again stained red, no more characters appeared. I heard a low sigh coming from the water to the west, seemingly the voice of Teng Jia, lingering like the sound of a zither in the wind. When I stood up and searched to the west, I saw nothing but ripples, withered bamboo, and strange rocks.

"Is it a secret message left by Tengjia?" I closed my eyes and pondered for a few seconds. Suddenly, I felt the elephant monk behind me staring intently at me. The feeling of being "spyed on" was like a thorn in my back, extremely uncomfortable.

"Mr. Feng, what are you looking at?" He chuckled and plucked the strings once more.

I shook the water off my hands and jumped back onto the bamboo bridge.

"This guqin is a royal treasure, and it's said to be worth a lot of money!" The monk winked, his tone strange.

I started changing my clothes, planning to have Xiao Lai investigate the true nature of the monk, to see what strange things were hidden behind him. Most of the antiquities in the Japanese Imperial Household originated from China, only the reasons for their arrival varied. Therefore, the true owner of the guqin should be China.

"Mr. Feng, the remains of the two Mr. Shaos will be cremated this evening at the Reincarnation Hall, the northernmost part of the temple. Would you like to come and supervise in person? Princess Tengjia's funeral arrangements will be handled by the royal family. As for the many strange people who were killed, according to Mr. Gu Ye, they should be buried in a pit dug next to the vegetable garden on the side of the kitchen as fertilizer for the vegetables. Do you have any objections?"

The thought of vegetables absorbing nutrients from rotting corpses to grow made my stomach clench slightly.

"I'd like to have this violin temporarily—"

I interrupted him: "I'll handle the zither matter. Make sure the monks in the temple are more alert tonight, so they don't remain oblivious when someone's knife is at their neck!" Last night's battle with the ninjas lasted for nearly seven hours, leaving corpses strewn everywhere, but the monks slept soundly, completely unaware. This is undoubtedly a failure of Maple Temple.

The fourth super weapon

— Chapter 5 - The Five Lakes Ancient Qin (Part 1) —

I changed my clothes, slung the guqin over one arm, and picked up the sign with the other, striding across the bamboo bridge to return to the courtyard. I hadn't been home all night; I wondered if Guan Baoling and Xiao Lai were worried.

"Oh, Mr. Feng, there's something else. Master Shenbi's diary has been under the protection of his disciples. Could you please take a look at it when you have some free time? If it has no practical value and you're not worried about outsiders peeking at it, you might as well put it back on the second floor of the Sutra Repository." The monk Xiang made a face, pretending to have a splitting headache and be preoccupied.

I stopped in my tracks, and the monk added, "More than twenty pages were torn out of the diary, the stubs are very fresh, it must have been torn by a thief who broke into the library at night. I'm worried, could it be that Master Shenbi's diary contained some secret that made the thief so envious?"

"Have you read those diaries?" The notebooks left by my elder brother Yang Tian once gave me great inspiration. I wonder what else is in Master Shenbi's diaries.

The monk shook his head, and I continued walking forward, casually instructing him, "Go and take a closer look first. I will go to the Samsara Courtyard at dusk. If you find anything, notify me immediately."

The fleeting sound of the xiao (vertical bamboo flute) filled me with doubt: "Could it be that Master Jianzhen, who played the xiao, like Teng Jia, left his soul and music here?" When it comes to antique musical instruments, I know that no one in the Chinese world understands the past and present better than Gu Zhijin. Many of his profound theories about music give me deep insights.

On the way back to the courtyard, I carefully examined the red seal on the guqin again. It read "Five Lakes." It seems that this name is not found on any famous ancient Chinese guqin. Something that the Japanese Imperial Family would treasure must have a very special origin.

The Japanese have a penchant for meticulous research, especially when it comes to antiques and calligraphy. They always arrive at a definitive conclusion, with the signatures of ten authoritative appraisers from the five major Japanese museums. The sound of the wind rustling the strings of the guqin and harmonizing with the sound of the xiao (a type of vertical flute) gave me a vague feeling that the origin of this guqin was anything but simple.

The gate to the courtyard was open, and Guan Baoling was standing in the courtyard with her arms crossed. As soon as she saw me come in, her furrowed brows immediately relaxed: "Feng, where have you been? Why are you only coming back now?"

The first thing I noticed was another bite mark below her neck, which was entirely expected. This wasn't a nightmare, but a real event that happened every day.

"I went to the library and spent the whole night reading." I lied with a smile. Although I had washed very carefully, the faint smell of blood on my body still made her frown. "Well, I just had a monk bring me a full-length mirror. I haven't looked in a mirror for a few days, and I suddenly noticed some red and swollen things under my neck. It might be some kind of abnormal allergy."

She touched the spot with teeth marks on her neck, looking worried.

Ignorance is bliss. Because she didn't know what a Fang Demon was, she didn't even consider it, saving me the trouble of explaining.

"This is absolutely terrible! This French cosmetics brand I've been using this quarter should be fine, oh dear, what am I going to do?" She sighed dejectedly, completely oblivious to the danger that had already passed her last night. Even without makeup, her long eyelashes remained elegant and curled, radiating a captivating charm.

She was very enthusiastic about the guqin and immediately reached out to take it, but she only glanced at the plaque we brought back together and didn't care at all.

"It's a really good zither, but this ancient seal is too unfamiliar to me?" She stroked the dark, shiny soundboard, admiring it.

Without the curse of the Fang Demon, her life should have been full of sunshine. Unfortunately, like the tycoon, she was also shrouded in the shadow of the curse. With each passing twenty-four hours, she took a step closer to the abyss of the Fang pupa.

"These are Miss Fujika's belongings. There was an accident last night, and she has passed away." I omitted all the details of the fierce battle with the ninjas, concealing all the bloodshed with a smile.

Guan Baoling exclaimed in surprise, "Ah! That's such a pity!" Her long eyelashes drooped, and her expression turned somber.

These bloody battles in the martial world were really not suitable to be told to such a pure and innocent girl. Compared to the talented and agile Su Lun, Guan Baoling was just a delicate little swallow in the third month of spring in Jiangnan, inexperienced and unable to withstand the storms of life, needing someone to take good care of her and never leave her side for even a minute.