Chapter Five: The Tomb of Ten Thousand Corpses

The blazing sun scorched the endless expanse of the Gobi Desert. In this desolate region of northern China, almost devoid of human presence, it seemed a land hostile to all life—a barren, yellow wasteland stretching as far as the eye could see, showing no trace of vitality. Yet, the tenacity of life always finds a way to transcend even the harshest environments. For all its despairing appearance, this land could not entirely repel the spark of existence.

From beneath the shade of a stone, a small lizard cautiously poked out its head. Its natural camouflage rendered it almost indistinguishable from the Gobi, allowing it to elude the gaze of predators. The lizard paused, surveying its surroundings. Only after confirming its safety did it slowly extend its claws and crawl out from its burrow. Barely had it taken two steps when, all at once, it froze in place, utterly motionless—like a stone sculpture, its raised right claw suspended mid-air.

In the next instant, the lizard darted away with all four limbs, its body nearly airborne, disappearing swiftly into the desert. The sudden roar of helicopter blades approached rapidly, and a Z-8 helicopter swept across the endless sky, soon vanishing deep into the Gobi—as if something momentous was unfolding.

The Z-8 flew at high speed, soon bringing an expanse of military tents into view on the horizon. From above, rows of military trucks could be seen arranged in formation, not far from a makeshift airstrip where helicopters—Z-8s, Z-9s, and even Z-10 and Z-19 gunships—were lined up in order. Armed soldiers patrolled back and forth, creating an atmosphere of impending conflict.

The Z-8 landed steadily. As the cabin door opened, a lieutenant colonel jumped out and headed straight for the command center—though, in truth, it was little more than a large military tent. His expression grave, the lieutenant colonel strode inside. The tent was packed with monitoring equipment, and soldiers in camouflage manned their stations, eyes fixed intently on their screens, the tension in the air almost palpable.

As soon as he entered, the junior officers at the central display saluted, but the lieutenant colonel waved them off. His gaze fixed on the flickering numbers and undulating graphs on the screen, he cut straight to the point: “What’s the peak value?”

“Eight hundred twenty, and still rising. At this rate, we’ll break nine hundred soon,” replied a captain, his tone grim.

The lieutenant colonel frowned, picked up a pair of binoculars, and stepped outside to survey the depths of the desert. About half a kilometer from the camp stood an abrupt, blood-red cliff, starkly out of place amid the surrounding yellow wasteland. All the camp’s detection instruments were aimed at this crimson escarpment.

After a moment’s observation, the lieutenant colonel lowered the binoculars. “Why has the color deepened so much?”

“It started this morning when the anomaly began. At first, it was yellow—blending in with the surroundings. As the readings increased, the color grew deeper. If the readings keep rising, it’ll probably get even darker,” the captain replied, then paused. “Commander, I suspect something’s happening in the tomb.”

At that moment, a fully armed soldier hurried over and saluted. “Sir, there’s trouble—the research team is insisting on entering the cliff to investigate. We can’t hold them back.”

“What? Ridiculous!” The captain’s face darkened.

The lieutenant colonel looked at the soldier, said nothing, and handed his binoculars to another soldier before heading toward the tent where the research team was based.

In the parking lot, four soldiers were blocking a Warrior jeep, trying to reason with several people. A middle-aged man, already past fifty, angrily slapped the hood, his face flushed with agitation. “You young men, do you have any idea how rare this opportunity is? The data! The data! We need the current readings!”

“Professor Yin, we really can’t let you through. The situation is uncertain…” A master sergeant tried to explain, but Professor Yin cut him off.

“That’s precisely why we need to go! Our research team was sent by central command—this is our responsibility. If we just sit here, will the situation clarify itself?” Professor Yin coughed furiously.

The master sergeant was about to reply when he saw the commander and captain approaching. He snapped to attention. “Commander!”

The lieutenant colonel nodded. Professor Yin hurried over. “Commander Liu, Captain Zhang, you’re just in time. Please tell these young men to let us through—the situation inside the tomb is changing. We can’t afford to miss this chance!”

Commander Liu regarded the researchers, smiling politely. “Professor Yin, I understand your urgency. Frankly, I’d like to let you go in myself—you’re the experts here. But this anomaly is far more intense than any we’ve seen before. I can’t risk your safety. No one knows what’s happening in the tomb.”

“But you have monitoring equipment!” Professor Yin protested.

“The equipment only records peak values. We have no way of knowing the specifics,” Commander Liu replied. “We’ve already reported the situation. Please be patient—we should receive orders soon, and then we’ll accompany you.”

Professor Yin glared, about to argue, but Commander Liu stopped him. “Ensuring your safety is our top priority—these are orders from above. The phenomenon at the Tomb of Ten Thousand Corpses has barely ceased since it began during World War II. Frankly, another centrally-appointed research team will arrive soon, and we’ll study the tomb together. For now, I hope you’ll focus on your current data and await further instructions.”

Professor Yin stared at Commander Liu for several seconds, then took a deep breath and nodded, saying nothing more. He turned to get into the car, but before closing the door, added, “Fine! We won’t cause trouble. We’ll wait for orders.” With that, he slammed the door.

Watching the silent Professor Yin in the car, Captain Zhang rubbed his temples and sighed helplessly.

The stalemate lasted about half a minute before a commotion erupted from the command center. Commander Liu and Captain Zhang hurried back, only to find the central display awash in glaring red—the readings had soared past nine hundred, nearing one thousand. That was the upper limit; this anomaly was about to max out the scales!

Simultaneously, the detection system began transmitting a chaotic, mysterious whisper—voices muttering incessantly, as if reciting scripture or telling an ancient tale. Yet, the instruments could not decipher the language; among all known tongues on Earth, none matched these sounds.

Commander Liu and Captain Zhang exchanged shocked, incredulous glances, as did the other soldiers. For the voices were coming from beneath the red cliff—from the Tomb of Ten Thousand Corpses itself, captured by every detector.

In the remote mountains of central China, Long Shaoxian was still talking with Luo Longyu. When Shaoxian mentioned the circumstances of his own birth, Luo Longyu became visibly unsettled. “What do you mean? What happened when I was born?”

Shaoxian was about to answer when the secret room’s door abruptly opened and Elder Ge strode in. Shaoxian paused, surprised—he and Luo Longyu were supposed to speak first, then Elder Ge would join them. Why had Elder Ge entered now? Had something happened?

Sensing Shaoxian’s question, Elder Ge’s gaze was somber. “Corpse speech. It’s begun.”

Luo Longyu looked at the two, bewildered. Shaoxian’s face changed at Elder Ge’s words. He glanced at Luo Longyu, then at Elder Ge, who kept his eyes on Luo Longyu, as if deep in thought.

Disturbed by Elder Ge’s gaze, Luo Longyu blurted, “Why are you looking at me? What’s corpse speech?”

“Shaoxian, go prepare,” Elder Ge said, still looking at Luo Longyu. Shaoxian nodded and quickly left the chamber.

“Luo Longyu, you come with me,” Elder Ge said simply.

“Where are we going?” asked Luo Longyu.

Elder Ge paused at the door, then replied, “To find traces your mother left behind. I’ll explain on the way—about your mother.”

Luo Longyu stared after Elder Ge, then hurried to follow. Truth be told, everything felt surreal—first the monster in the mall, now this group of state-affiliated mysterious people. He still had no idea what trouble he’d been drawn into. But since it involved his mother, Luo Longyu sensed that some things, he could not escape.

Thinking back on his lifetime of strange incidents, now with these mysterious people mentioning his mother, Luo Longyu could not shake the feeling that some unseen hand had set him on this path. But what sort of path it was, he could not guess. All he could do was follow his instincts, one step at a time.

Deep in the central mountains of China, a massive alloy tunnel appeared, followed by a thunderous roar. With a deafening whine, a transport plane shot out from the tunnel and vanished into the distant sky…

Luo Longyu sat in the plane’s cabin, his first time on an aircraft. As it took off, he felt his organs being squeezed, gripping his seat tightly, his expression uneasy.

There were only six people in the cabin. Long Shaoxian sat beside him; across from them were two men—one dressed in black, carrying a Tang sword, his gaze wickedly charming as he openly scrutinized Luo Longyu, the other, with fiery red hair and a stern expression, emanated a chill.

On Luo Longyu’s other side sat a boy of only five or six, with bright eyes and white teeth, swinging his little legs restlessly.

Elder Ge sat not far away, eyes grave as he studied a tactical terminal.

“Boss, aren’t you going to introduce us?” the man in black said, grinning at Elder Ge.

Elder Ge glanced up, then replied absently, “Introduce yourselves.”

“Tch.” The man in black curled his lip, then looked at Luo Longyu and grinned. “Hello, living legend. I’m Zuo Baixing, the redhead here is Baili Chaser-of-Souls, the beauty you know already, and that little brat is Tong Wu Shao. As for…” He glanced at Elder Ge, who looked up again, causing Zuo Baixing to clear his throat. “I’ll let him introduce himself.”

“All right, enough nonsense,” Elder Ge said, standing and setting aside his device, his expression grave. “The situation is dire. Although we’ve now found Luo Longyu, we all know that, as things stand, it doesn’t help much. We’re heading to the Tomb of Ten Thousand Corpses as Research Team Two. Be cautious. Shaoxian, you’re responsible for Luo Longyu’s safety.”

Shaoxian nodded silently.

Elder Ge turned to Luo Longyu. “Luo Longyu, you want to know about your mother. I’ll tell you what we know so far. Be prepared—what you learn about her may overturn everything you thought you knew.”