Chapter 709: Chapter 709

In the spring of the eleventh year of Mingde, at the palace of Changjing….

The young emperor, just ascended to the throne, carried little of the usual imperial gravitas. Instead, he had regained his former elegance, wearing loose, simple robes and sitting on a long couch.

Standing beside him was a young Daoist.

Miaohuazi stood straight, smiling as he said, “Your Majesty, I have two pieces of good news to report.”

“Oh?” The emperor, holding a book, glanced up at him, thinking for a moment. “Is the resettlement in the northern territories going smoothly?”

“It seems Your Majesty is deeply concerned with state affairs,” Miaohuazi said confidently. “But since Your Majesty has already received reports from elsewhere, how could I consider them ‘good news’ to report again?”

“Oh? And how do you know I received reports from officials?”

“I have also inherited some of my master’s insight.”

“Truly a worthy disciple of the State Preceptor,” the emperor said, pausing. Curious, he asked, “Then what is this good news?”

“First, I observed the heavens at night, calculated with my fingers, employed various divination methods, and even used secret techniques passed down by my master to deduce over several months. Finally, I confirmed that the late emperor has indeed met with misfortune.”

The emperor immediately put down his book, sat upright, and widened his eyes at Miaohuazi. A faint expression of joy surfaced on his face, only to be quickly repressed. Frowning, he spoke to the quietly standing Miaohuazi, “How can this be considered good news?”

“I simply believe, Your Majesty, that you are wiser than the late emperor. The prosperous era of Great Yan cannot withstand another great turmoil. Hence, I consider it good news.”

“There is another piece of news.”

“The Imperial Guardian Duke is gravely injured and beyond cure. I visited him yesterday; he will likely not survive more than three days.”

The emperor hesitated longer this time. Finally, he sighed, “The Imperial Guardian Duke is a general without parallel in history, with achievements unmatched. He has been loyal to Great Yan. The empire’s prosperity owes much to him. Losing him cannot be considered good news.”

Whether it is good for Great Yan or not is one thing; for this emperor, it is undoubtedly beneficial. Miaohuazi thought this calmly, maintaining a neutral expression.

“However, I do have some concerns.”

“Concerns? Another northern invasion?”

“The northern tribes were already defeated by the Imperial Guardian Duke and now exist in name only. I hear the royal court has split; most capable tribes have fled west. Moreover, the Imperial Guardian Duke’s kinsman guards the north. The eighteen tribes of the northern frontier could never again threaten our central empire. Even if, years later, a strong enemy comes from the north, it will not be these northern tribes.”

“Does Your Majesty still recall the rumors I mentioned earlier about the world?”

“Rumors? Change of dynasties?” The emperor frowned, his expression darkening.

The young emperor was silent for a moment, then asked the Daoist, “Have you divined something?”

“No, I have divined nothing.”

“Chen Ziyi is supposed to be dying, right? Could it be his kinsman in the north who took command, or his descendant remaining in Changjing?”

“I do not know either.”

“Then what worries you?”

“Chen Ziyi? But he is gravely injured and near death! Could he somehow rise again?” The emperor paused mid-sentence, seeming to realize something, then looked at the Daoist beside him. “You said you divined nothing? Stop teasing me, cut to the chase!”

The emperor’s frown deepened.

“I dare not deceive Your Majesty. Indeed, I have divined nothing, literally nothing,” Miaohuazi said, pausing before squinting his eyes. “However, some years ago, my master taught me a principle: sometimes, ‘divining nothing’ is itself a result.”

“What does that mean?”

“It simply means that I’m worried.”

“Then what should we do?”

Miaohuazi replied, “The Imperial Guardian Duke’s merits are unparalleled. Your Majesty has just ascended the throne. Even if the Imperial Guardian Duke dies, his body must not be desecrated. Yet we must do our utmost to be vigilant.”

“Seems like you already have a plan?”

“Perhaps Your Majesty does not know: aside from mastery in divination and statecraft, my master is also highly skilled in formations, though few know this,” Miaohuazi said. “Since the Imperial Guardian Duke’s achievements are monumental, Your Majesty should grant him a royal burial, with offerings at the ancestral temple and the divine tomb. If his subordinates propose returning him to his ancestral home, even if it was the Imperial Guardian Duke’s own wish, Your Majesty can refuse with full legitimacy. At that time, I will have the court ministers back this up.”

“Buried at the divine tomb… should it be heavily guarded?”

“Of course,” Miaohuazi paused, “but I will also set up a grand formation, isolating heaven and earth, so that no one can get in or go out.”

“So serious…” The emperor widened his eyes. “Could it be that Chen Ziyi truly can rise from death?”

“The Imperial Guardian Duke is no ordinary man. He once defended the north, where countless demons existed in the northern armies. Even before Your Majesty arrived, he held the military garrison, showing he commanded many extraordinary talents. Moreover, his relationship with Your Majesty is not simple; it’s hard to predict anything.”

“Very well, I’ll leave it to you.” The emperor finally agreed, waving his hand. “After this, you shall be the new State Preceptor.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“This is something I promised you long ago. Moreover, your talents are now comparable to your master’s. You deserve the position of State Preceptor,” the emperor said. “I only hope you can, like your master, guide the court and bring Great Yan into a new golden age. If so, we shall both be remembered in history.”

“I shall serve without complaint, ten thousand times over!” Miaohuazi remained calm, bowing in gratitude. It seemed he truly believed he was no longer inferior to his master.

Three days later, the Imperial Guardian Duke passed away. The entire city of Changjing mourned; all were grief-stricken.

No matter how far the news spread, even to the distant Western Regions, or to the frozen Hanzhou and Zhaozhou, wherever people had heard of Chen Ziyi, there was universal sorrow.

The Great Yan Empire rapidly declined. Chaos erupted across the land; demons and monsters ran rampant. In just a few years, the empire was shaken. Looking back at the Mingde era of Great Yan twenty years prior felt like a dream.

The Daoist had returned to Yizhou, located in Lingquan County of Zhuo Commandery, residing in Hidden Dragon Temple on Yin-Great Yang Mountain. He reunited with many old acquaintances, but Chen Ziyi was never among them.

Several centuries later, at the National University of Yongyuan District in Changjing…

Professor Chen, now with graying hair, lectured first-year archaeology students, his voice amplified across the classroom. “In archaeological excavation, no matter how precious the history, no matter how eager we are to uncover the stories hidden in the dark corners of time, or how much the public wants to know the truth, we must follow one principle: if a tomb is intact, we must not excavate it without cause.

“As long as there are no looters, no collapses, and the tomb’s occupant rests undisturbed, we must not move it lightly. This is respect for the deceased, and one of the rules distinguishing archaeologists from grave robbers.

“…Everyone knows that ancient tombs in Changjing are countless, yet few have survived. In past centuries, tomb raiders ran rampant; many were destroyed.

“For example, the divine tomb of the Great Yan dynasty, not far from our school, was desecrated during wars by tomb raiders and even some warlords; it has long been ruined.”

A student raised their hand and asked, “Is the tomb of Emperor Mingzong of Great Yan really there?”

“Yes, but when we excavated, there was nothing left inside. We can only infer that the emperor’s body was absent, which indirectly confirms historical records that Emperor Mingzong was lost during the wars, and his fate remains uncertain.”

“I heard that many Great Yan emperors’ coffins bore the inscription ‘Whoever opens this shall die.’ Is that true?”

“During the Great Yan era, esoteric Daoist practices were widespread. So yes, that was the case.”

“Is it really… really true?”

“Hahaha, as archaeologists, we cannot take such things at face value,” Professor Chen chuckled. “But when we encounter these cases, I have a method. Even if I don’t teach you now, you will learn it in the field. Some exceptionally gifted students might even figure it out on their own.”

“Write the leader’s birth date on your body, chant while opening, and if anything happens, seek the leader.”

Laughter erupted in the classroom, lightening the mood.

After a while, someone asked, “I heard Chen Ziyi is also buried here?”

“The historical records say the same,” Professor Chen nodded. “However, based on what we currently know, no tomb of Chen Ziyi has been discovered inside the divine tomb, and tomb raiders apparently never found it either.”

“Then where is he buried…”

“That remains a mystery to us.”

A dull sound rang out.

Outside, the wind had risen at some unknown moment. The open window slammed shut violently, almost shattering the glass. Many people shivered in fright.

Professor Chen’s phone suddenly vibrated. This update ıs available on novel•fire.net

Normally he wouldn’t take calls during class, but today he picked it up, hesitated briefly, then made a small apologetic gesture to the students and bent down to answer.

The call was brief, but it caused his brow to furrow sharply.

Without much thought, the usually punctual and diligent professor bowed to the students sincerely: “I’m sorry, everyone. Today’s class will have to end here. I just received a call: while constructing the subway near the divine tomb, they accidentally unearthed an ancient tomb buried very deep. I must go see it. You may study on your own, leave class early, or, if you’re curious, follow me to observe. But since your professional skills aren’t sufficient yet, you cannot enter; you can only watch from outside.”

Some students cheered and returned to their dorms, while others, full of curiosity, followed him.

Outside, the wind howled.

The sky was heavy with leaden-gray clouds, seemingly hastily brushed by the wind. Gale-force winds tore through the streets.

A Daoist walked along the street.

His face showed few wrinkles, though signs of age were faintly visible. His robes faded white from countless washes and were worn and old. He leaned on a green jade-like bamboo staff, walking with unhurried grace.

Passersby stole glances at him.

In this era, unusual attire was common, and the streets were full of all sorts of people. Since so many fake monks and Daoists went around begging for alms or cheating people, most folks usually paid little attention to a Daoist. Yet this one gave off a peculiar, unmistakable aura.

Compared to the hurried steps of the crowd, he seemed far too leisurely. Compared to the impatient expressions of the pedestrians, he appeared excessively composed.

Step by step, he moved forward as if his pace had never changed. No one knew where he was going, and he simply walked forward.

This Daoist seemed somewhat out of place in the modern world, yet no one interfered.

The streets were cordoned off; excavation was underway in full swing.

Professor Chen had already begun his work. Many students and citizens gathered outside, with police maintaining order. Several archaeologists had arrived earlier and conducted preliminary investigations of the tomb, revealing results that were both shocking and exhilarating.

This was the tomb of Chen Ziyi, Imperial Guardian Duke of the Great Yan dynasty.

Chen Xin, style name Ziyi, a native of Angzhou, was a legendary general. He had decisively defeated the northern tribes, driving them thousands of li west, causing massive chaos across the Western Regions, and bringing vast northern territories under the Central Plains dynasty. His achievements were unparalleled; even in Great Yan, which was stingy with ranks and military titles, he was granted the title of Imperial Guardian Duke.

He was hailed as the greatest general of all time.

Decades later, the Yu dynasty was established, and its founding emperor was his descendant.

It was long said that Chen Ziyi had been buried at the divine tomb, not far from Emperor Mingzong of Great Yan. Yet later generations thoroughly searched the divine tomb and could not locate his tomb.

This site, two kilometers from the divine tomb, had no hills nearby, yet no one had expected Chen Ziyi’s tomb to lie outside the mausoleum. Even more astonishing, the tomb was extremely deep. It was so deep that it was terrifying, almost plunging straight into the earth.

How it was constructed back then remained a complete mystery.

Step by step downwards, the tomb contained not only quicksand and rolling stones but also mercury. Between the layers of earth were indistinguishable architectural structures, their purpose unknown.

It was clear that the difficulty of excavating this tomb was astonishingly high.

If the subway hadn’t been dug so deep, deep enough to reach it, they might never have discovered in their lifetimes that the tomb of the Imperial Guardian Duke of the Great Yan dynasty lay hidden here. Even if tomb raiders knew, entering it would hardly be easy.

The main burial chamber was even harder to access.

Typically, even for a prince or emperor’s tomb, it was rarely as dangerous as novels and TV shows portrayed. While anti-theft measures existed, they were usually outside the tomb; quicksand was the most common method. Once a thief entered the tomb chamber, there were usually no further traps.

But the Imperial Guardian Duke’s tomb was sealed in layers. The archaeologists worked painstakingly, moving with extreme care, until they finally entered the main burial chamber. The tomb was intact; no tomb raider had ever been inside.

Inside were countless treasures, jade, and burial offerings. At the center lay a massive stone coffin.

Next to it was a horse skeleton and a fragment of a rotting spearhead. In the Great Yan dynasty, weapons were not allowed in the tomb, making this discovery all the more precious.

Even more remarkable was the coffin itself…

It was covered densely with talismans, inscribed with countless symbols. Hundreds of years had passed; many things had decayed, yet the talismans on the coffin had not deteriorated, the symbols remained crisp, as if written just yesterday.

Above it were words written in blood, “Whoever opens this shall die.”

The professors were not entirely surprised, nor as dismissive as students might be. Exchanging glances and murmuring to one another, they carefully prepared to open the coffin.

The wind outside raged louder.

Every year, several such strong winds swept through Changjing, so strong that people of lighter build could hardly keep their footing. This year, they had arrived especially early.

The ancient tomb had just been opened here, and heaps of sand and earth were piled up. Many of the gaps between bricks had to be pried open bit by bit with small trowels, then brushed clean stroke by stroke with brushes. The sand was so fine that with a single gust of wind it filled the air, and together with the stones, it truly let one experience what it meant for sand and rocks to be flying. Everyone’s eyes could barely stay open, and police struggled to maintain order.

Behind the crowd, a Daoist walked forward.

Remarkably, despite the furious wind, which forced people to brace against lampposts and lean forward to resist, and the sand that stung their eyes, this Daoist walked freely, unbothered by the storm. His expression remained calm; his steps unchanged. It was as if the wind and sand parted for him.

“Hey! Someone went in!”

In a blur, someone saw a figure enter the archaeological site through the sandstorm.

Police looked hurriedly, some claiming to see it, others nothing. Even those who saw him soon lost sight, thinking it might be their eyes playing tricks.

The coffin slowly opened. The stagnant air inside mixed with the outside, and a white light illuminated the interior.

At this time, the archaeologists leaned closer. They expected to see the Imperial Guardian Duke’s bones, but at first glance, everyone stopped breathing, eyes wide.

Inside lay what appeared to be the Imperial Guardian Duke himself. But it was not a skeleton.

On the contrary, the man inside was tall and muscular, with thick eyebrows and bright eyes, an upright and righteous expression. His skin was pale, but not decomposed; not a trace of decay, nor shriveled, dried flesh. The light revealed his face in lifelike detail. Even his eyelashes were clearly visible.

He looked as if he had just been laid there just yesterday.

“This…” The professors were top archaeologists, veterans of countless discoveries. They had seen many strange things, yet even they were speechless and stunned.

At that moment, a voice came from behind.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?”

The professors turned and looked.

A Daoist, holding a green jade bamboo staff, had somehow arrived behind them. Someone shouted in surprise. However, the Daoist only sighed upon seeing them.

Everyone was astonished.

“Do not fear. I came only to retrieve an old friend,” the Daoist said calmly. “I had an appointment with him, yet he’s been late for many years.”

At the same moment, another shout rang out, and someone had seen the “corpse” in the tomb open its eyes, which were filled with murderous intent.

Even within the tomb, a wind had risen, sending sand and stones flying.

No one could keep their footing, and all were forced to shield their eyes with their arms, unable to see a thing.

When the wind died down and the sand settled, they looked again, only to find the tomb already empty.

No one knew whether it was true that the corpse inside the tomb had opened its eyes just now, nor did anyone know whether it had been taken away by the Daoist… or if it had risen and walked off on its own.

At the Changjing streets, the Daoist walked slowly while leaning on his bamboo staff. Just then, a tall, muscular man in ancient attire followed behind him.

The streets were lined with towering buildings, their tops visible only by looking up. Shops glowed even in daylight, and merchandise glittered in windows, while the glass reflected people’s figures.

At this time, cars whizzed past on the road. The streets were unusually clean. People passed in various fashions; some wore styles reminiscent of the old Great Yan dynasty, but there were no tattered garments, no gaunt faces.

The man’s gait, stiff at first, became more natural. As he walked, he turned his head to survey this utterly unfamiliar world and his reflection in the shop windows.

His expression was blank, bewildered.

“Several hundred years later.”

The Daoist walked slowly; the wind softened.

He moved forward without looking back, speaking calmly to the man behind him: “The world has changed greatly, and you have slept for a long time. We at Hidden Dragon Temple waited for you with great patience.”

“Why… why did it turn out ?”

“It shows your arrangements were no match for the disciple of the State Preceptor.”

“Take it slow. No rush.”

“Where is this place?”

“Changjing. It is still called Changjing. The old Great Yan imperial palace still stands, some thirty kilometers away, about eighty li in your time.” The Daoist spoke calmly. “I have a courtyard near the old palace. We will go there first, and I will explain everything to you.”

“Several hundred years…”

“Is the Great Yan dynasty still here?”

“No, long gone. Decades after your death, Great Yan fell. The later dynasty was called the Yu dynasty; its founding emperor was your descendant, and the one who truly ruled was your grandson.” The Daoist recounted future events with a plain tone. “After that came another dynasty, then the present.”

“Yes, the prophecy was real.”

“Do you still live in Changjing?”

“No, but thanks to my disciple Lady Calico, I have properties in many cities across the country.”

“Why don’t I see her?”

“She went traveling, revisiting old places,” the Daoist said. “The State Preceptor was skilled. I, though far below him, have inherited some of his true teachings. When I sensed you, your tomb was about to be uncovered by people of this era, so I came. I had been having tea and burning incense with friends.”

Chen Ziyi paused, following Song You, still scanning the surroundings, occasionally glancing at the Daoist ahead, his expression complex.

“Do you want to ask why I haven’t died yet?”

The Daoist didn’t turn but understood his question.

“The Heavens favored you, granting me five hundred years,” the Daoist said calmly, smiling slightly. “But it’s nearly over.”

Chen Ziyi didn’t ask further. Perhaps having too many questions left him momentarily speechless.

“Few of your old friends remain. When I introduce you to this world, when my disciple Lady Calico returns, I will take you to visit them one by one,” the Daoist said. “This era is better than before. Awakening now, rather than in your original time, may even be a blessing, as it lets you see what the world has become.”

He spoke as they walked. Chen Ziyi couldn’t help but glance at the shop windows.

The glass was polished clear, but the interiors dim, reflecting the modern world outside and the slowly walking Daoist and the general behind him.

The general remained just as he had been.

The Daoist met his own reflection in the glass beside him. This world, in its current form, bore traces of his efforts. Alas, his hair had grayed.