Chapter 91: Knocking on Heaven’s Gate

“Brother Li, do you know the exact location of King Xian’s tomb?” Chen Yulou stood on the floating island, surveying the landscape. The entire valley lay before his eyes—mountains encircled it on all sides, yet not a trace of a burial site could be found.

“King Xian had ambitions higher than the heavens themselves, vowing to seek immortality. Naturally, his tomb would not lie beneath the earth, but above it.” Li Yang pointed toward the end of the valley, at a waterfall shrouded in mist, and said, “The tomb of King Xian is right up there!”

“Up there?” Chen Yulou looked incredulous, his gaze following Li Yang’s finger. “Throughout history, imperial mausoleums have varied in size and grandeur, but never has one been built in the sky. For a mere warlord like King Xian, how could he possess such ability?”

“Damn it, that old King Xian really knew how to enjoy himself. Just a tomb, and he wants it built in the heavens? I, Old Luo, was a local king myself, but even in my wildest dreams, I wouldn’t have dared imagine such a thing.” Old Luo squinted his single eye and began grumbling under his breath.

“King Xian was originally the high priest of the ancient Dian Kingdom, well-versed in divination. With many followers and formidable sorcery, it’s not surprising he found such a place. But to construct a tomb here must have cost him a lifetime of effort.” Partridge Whistle gazed from afar at the waterfall, which shimmered with iridescent halos in the sunlight, his expression complex.

“It’s said that to build this mausoleum, King Xian waged war against the local tribes, capturing prisoners to labor on his tomb. This mausoleum is the embodiment of his life’s obsession with immortality,” Li Yang added. He could hardly imagine, in those ancient times without tools or roads, the monumental challenge of building a tomb atop a mountain. At times, he couldn’t help but marvel at the perseverance of those who came before.

“We’ve traveled hard today. Everyone is exhausted and anxious. Why don’t we rest here for the night and set out at first light to explore the tomb? What do you think, Brother Li?” Chen Yulou glanced at the weary faces of his companions. His heart was heavy—who knew how many would never return from King Xian’s tomb? But as a man of resolve, he quickly dismissed such thoughts and addressed Li Yang.

“That’s a good idea. The scenery here is pleasant, the climate agreeable. Let’s rest here tonight and depart at dawn.” Li Yang considered for a moment, then nodded. The blood meal in the golden toad’s belly was still digesting, everyone was worn out, and after the day’s terrors, a hasty entry would only lead to unnecessary casualties.

“Brothers, we’ll spend the night here. Hurry and pitch the tents—start the fire and prepare the meal!” With Li Yang’s agreement, Old Luo waved his hand and gave orders to the soldiers.

Night fell. On the floating island, fireflies danced everywhere. The group gathered around the campfire, chatting idly, watching the foreigner and Hua Ling chasing fireflies in the distance, while Old Luo regaled everyone with tales of his exploits, spittle flying. A long-lost warmth rose in Li Yang’s heart.

After all, people are social creatures. Roaming the land alone for too long makes one long for those dear to them. Gazing at the star-studded sky, Li Yang’s thoughts drifted to his two wives far away in Hong Kong. He wondered how they were faring—if they, too, gazed up at this same sky, missing him as he missed them.

...

Late into the night, everyone was fast asleep. Li Yang sat cross-legged on a rocky outcrop of the floating island, hands cupped around his lower abdomen. The fist-sized golden toad squatted between his hands, and as he breathed in rhythm, golden energy surged from his core, enveloping the toad.

“Gurgle, gurgle...” With Li Yang’s aid, the toad’s warty skin began to tremble faintly, its body rising and falling, while soft contractions sounded from deep within its belly.

...

At the break of dawn, the golden toad finally opened its eyes, lively and refreshed, leaping from Li Yang’s hands with a jubilant croak. Seeing the blood meal digested, Li Yang took a Pure Essence Pill from his robe and swallowed it, then began practicing his body-strengthening forms.

With each breath, a golden auspicious cloud rose above him, and pure spiritual energy swirled madly around. Soon, shimmering white lights appeared all over his body as his blood and energy surged furiously, magical power coursing through his veins. Li Yang’s very cells seemed to awaken, absorbing the spiritual energy and beginning to transform.

“Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh...” After half an hour, the golden cloud above his head condensed into a golden centipede, swallowing the surrounding energy in great gulps. Yet compared to before, the centipede’s form was much dimmer; through Li Yang’s cultivation, the six-winged centipede’s spirit was gradually merging with his cells. When the day came that the spirit was fully assimilated, that would be the moment Li Yang truly integrated the centipede’s power and forged his first divine aspect.

By the time Li Yang finished his cultivation, the others had already packed and were ready to depart.

“Brothers, fetch the centipede ladders—we move out!” After breakfast, Chen Yulou gave the order, and the Unloading Ridge warriors sprang into action.

As before, Partridge Whistle and his sister led the way, Li Yang in the center for support, Chen Yulou and Old Luo bringing up the rear. The group hurried toward the waterfall.

“This must be the entrance to King Xian’s tomb!” Reaching the waterfall, they saw a grayish-white stone slope extending from beneath the cascade. Climbing up, they soon surpassed the waterline of the pool below. At the top of the slope, a massive blue-gray stone gate loomed into sight.

“That’s right. This should be the place,” Li Yang nodded. The environment matched the descriptions he had read perfectly.

“Damn, we’ve finally made it! Brothers, forward!” At Li Yang’s confirmation, Old Luo waved his hand, and the soldiers surged up the stone slope.

“Kneel and bow at Heaven’s Gate!” At the summit, they reached a grand gatehouse, and their faces grew solemn as they read the large characters engraved on the stone doors.

“It’s said that ordinary mortals must perform three kneelings and nine kowtows to ascend to heaven. Who would have thought King Xian would liken his tomb to the celestial palace?” Partridge Whistle searched for mechanisms on the doors but found nothing, sighing at the inscription.

“Damn that old King Xian—dead and still putting on airs! Once I get inside, I’ll drag his coffin out!” Old Luo cursed impatiently, frustrated that a stone door now blocked their way.

“How arrogant!” Li Yang snorted coldly at the inscription. “Everyone, stand back!”

He didn’t claim to know every secret of King Xian’s tomb, but he was familiar enough to realize that forcing an entry would trigger the traps hidden in the pool below. Not that he had any fear.

With a deep breath, Li Yang’s hands gleamed gold as he struck the bronze lock with all his might. The stone gate trembled, and the lock shattered.

Without pause, Li Yang spread his arms wide, muscles taut, and pushed forward. Under the force of ten thousand pounds, the gate gradually opened, and a wave of foul air poured from the tomb.

The moment the door opened, before anyone could celebrate, masses of corpse puppets swarmed from the pool below, advancing menacingly toward the group.

“Brothers! Prepare to fire!” “Bang! Bang! Bang!” “Damn it, what the hell are these things?” Old Luo swore as he drew his pistol, leading his men in a desperate volley.

“Marshal Luo, these are corpse puppets—crafted from the bodies of slaves by King Xian to guard his tomb. Bullets are useless against them,” Li Yang explained, stepping forward to halt Old Luo. “Step aside, all of you.”

Li Yang drew a deep breath, his chest swelling like a bellows. His face flushed red, and he unleashed a blast of true solar fire from his mouth.

In moments, the lower slope was an inferno. Ignoring the others’ astonished stares, Li Yang produced the golden toad from his robe.

As the toad landed, it puffed up its cheeks and blew mightily into the tomb, dispersing the miasma within.

“Let’s go,” Li Yang called, leading the way boldly into the tomb.

Inside, a long embedded passage stretched before them, then another level corridor. On either side, stone niches were filled with burial goods—bronze and bone artifacts, many-eared pottery jars, gold and silver ingots, jade pieces, and animal bones. There were horse bones, as well as the remains of unknown birds, offerings King Xian intended to take with him to heaven. The niches were propped open with bronze rings, but many had collapsed, with yellow water seeping in, corroding much of the contents.

“Damn, this is by far the richest tomb I’ve ever seen! Even most emperors’ graves can’t compare to this haul!” Old Luo trembled with excitement at the sight of so much treasure, itching to take it all. But he knew well enough not to disturb anything in such an ominous place, and so he turned expectantly to Li Yang.