Chapter 33: The Secret of the Black Coffin
Having studied the Daoist canon since childhood, Chen Changsheng knew the rules. After entering Zhou's Mausoleum, he had plundered the treasures and artifacts from the nine stone chambers but had never considered trying to open this black stone coffin, even though it likely contained his most precious inheritance. Similarly, Xu Yourong, out of respect for the one within, had never made such a proposal.
Now, hearing Xu Yourong's words, he realized that even if he had wanted to open this obsidian coffin earlier, he might not have been able to do so.
A lock requires a key. If Zhou Dufu did not wish to be disturbed in his eternal slumber, this mountain-like obsidian coffin would naturally be difficult to open.
Xu Yourong said, "The Soul Wood must have been taken out of Zhou Garden long ago, and for some reason, it fell into the hands of the demon race. Now that I think about it, their ability to bypass the main entrance of Zhou Garden and carve another path to infiltrate it might be related to this. And the Soul Wood's return to Zhou Garden also means that the time has finally come for this obsidian coffin to be opened."
"You mean that before Zhou Dufu died…" Chen Changsheng paused, considering how to phrase it, then continued, "…he had already prepared to reveal the inheritance or secrets hidden in the black stone coffin to the world, which is why he had the key taken away? But if that's the case, why didn't he just do it directly back then?"
"What you said earlier actually makes a lot of sense: time is the most powerful artifact." Xu Yourong looked at the obsidian coffin and said, "As everyone knows, Zhou Dufu had no successor. This shows that before his death, he couldn't find a junior he deemed worthy of inheriting his legacy. He let the key fall outside Zhou Garden, perhaps to let time choose his successor for him."
He was somewhat surprised and asked, "Does that mean that blade is really inside this obsidian coffin?"
Xu Yourong was silent for a moment before saying, "There's another possibility. Just as you said, this black stone coffin might not contain Zhou Dufu's inheritance, but it holds his secret."
Chen Changsheng was puzzled. "I was just speaking casually. Is there really some secret?"
Xu Yourong looked into his eyes and said, "Whether Zhou Dufu actually died or not—that itself has been the most important secret in the world for a thousand years."
Chen Changsheng thought of Zhou Dufu's deeds, which had long become stories, legends, and even myths, and his gaze toward the obsidian coffin grew more solemn.
It was solemn, earnest, and somewhat tense, but there was no burning desire. For treasures and the inheritance of past powerhouses, both he and Xu Yourong seemed remarkably indifferent. This indifference couldn't even be attributed to the composure of youth. No matter how aged a cultivator might be, if they knew they had a chance to obtain Zhou Dufu's inheritance, they would inevitably become fanatical—like that elder from the Falling Sun Sect in the cliff cave who had sucked Xu Yourong's blood. If he appeared before the obsidian coffin now, how could he remain calm?
The reason Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong could still keep their cool was that they were geniuses in cultivation, practicing the most advanced techniques in the world. Zhou Dufu was undoubtedly the most exceptional, but they themselves were also special, possessing full confidence and pride—it would be wonderful to obtain it, but if they didn't, it had nothing to do with fate; their destiny was always in their own hands. Still, thinking that what they were about to see might be the most shocking scene in a thousand years, they couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. Chen Changsheng's voice unconsciously grew very soft, as if he didn't want to disturb the great soul within the black coffin.
"When will this obsidian coffin open?"
Xu Yourong watched the light emanating from the Soul Pivot growing dimmer, calculated for a moment, and said, "It should be soon."
Outside the mausoleum, the beast tide advanced like a black line. The key to opening the obsidian coffin had already awakened the Soul Pivot, and the coffin's opening was imminent.
Right before their eyes, the upper half of the obsidian coffin began to slide slowly.
In the dim, empty tomb hall, a great wind arose.
The light from the Soul Pivot was blown even dimmer, like a candle flame on the verge of extinguishing.
Chen Changsheng shifted slightly to the side, ensuring his body completely blocked hers. His short sword had already been drawn and was gripped tightly in his hand.
With a thunderous rumble, the massive obsidian coffin slowly opened. The terrible grinding sound between the heavy lid and the coffin body was truly like thunder.
The mountain-like black coffin separated slowly, top from bottom, looking as if a bolt of lightning had directly split the black mountain in two.
Watching this scene, Xu Yourong's pupils contracted slightly, and she murmured softly, "Two halves…"
The upper half of the obsidian coffin continued to slide until, after a long time, it finally came to a stop.
The wind still howled through the empty tomb hall, swirling around the obsidian coffin. Because of the coffin's change, the wind's sound grew even more shrill and piercing, incredibly eerie, as if someone were weeping endlessly in the dim underworld. The sobbing mixed with the earlier broken melody, the meaning of "soul, return" growing faint, but the atmosphere grew thicker.
The Soul Pivot finally extinguished all its light. The tomb hall became dim once more. Standing on the ground, they couldn't see what was above, but they could imagine that the obsidian coffin had opened. If that great man lay quietly inside, he might be staring at the ceiling now, or more likely, his eyes were closed, or he had turned into a skeleton.
But the man in that obsidian coffin was Zhou Dufu. No matter how unbelievable the things that happened to him, they seemed perfectly natural.
The wind gradually ceased. The music gradually stopped. The soul had either returned or not.
The mausoleum fell into dead silence. Xu Yourong looked at the obsidian coffin, which resembled a broken mountain, her expression complex. For a long time, she didn't speak.
Chen Changsheng's right hand, gripping the sword hilt, wasn't sweating, but for some reason, it felt sticky and damp—that was the tension in his mind.
The departed are gone; may they rest in peace. What if he were still alive? Or more precisely, what if he woke from his long slumber, resurrected, or, unwilling to leave this world for the lonely, cold starry sea, used some secret before death to transform himself into an immortal but evil being? Then what would happen next?
Chen Changsheng's expression remained calm, but inwardly, he was tense to the extreme.
Logically, whether Zhou Dufu resurrected or used a secret technique to transform, as long as he retained his sanity, he should help them deal with the demon stronghold experts and the terrifying beast tide approaching the mausoleum, because Zhou Dufu was a human powerhouse, the unparalleled hero who had defeated the Demon Lord—this was also the only possibility for him and Xu Yourong to leave Zhou Garden alive. But for some reason, he had a strong feeling that if Zhou Dufu truly hadn't died, then everyone in Zhou Garden… would die, and even the entire continent would face a storm of blood and chaos.
"I want to go up and take a look." Xu Yourong's voice broke the silence of the tomb hall.
She looked at the obsidian coffin. Her eyes, slightly dimmed by her injuries, had somehow become very bright.
Chen Changsheng helped her to the obsidian coffin. After looking up for a moment to confirm the climbing route, he carried her on his back.
A moment later, they stood at the edge of the broken black mountain cliff, looking inside.
Inside the obsidian coffin, the space was enormous. It could easily hold not just one person but could host a banquet with a dozen girls singing.
But now, inside the obsidian coffin, there wasn't a single person.
Not a single person.
That person wasn't there.
Zhou Garden was Zhou Dufu's world.
This mausoleum was his death palace.
The dangerous and mysterious Never-Setting Sun Grassland was the cemetery surrounding the mausoleum, and those incredibly powerful demonic beasts were its guardians.
Clearly, he didn't want anyone to disturb his eternal slumber, except for the key that had fallen outside Zhou Garden, which, with time's help, would choose a new master.
Yet he wasn't sleeping in this obsidian coffin.
No one had ever seen his remains.
His life or death remained unknown.
There was a great possibility that he was still alive.
This was the true secret of Zhou Garden.
This was the true secret that the Never-Setting Sun Grassland wanted to protect.
The obsidian coffin didn't contain the remains of that great man, but that didn't mean the coffin was empty.
The coffin was filled with crystal leaves carved from gemstones, emerald grass carved from top-grade jadeite, and cinnabar stones condensed from goblin fire, scattered carelessly.
The obsidian coffin was filled with countless treasures.
Xu Yourong had grown up freely entering and leaving the imperial palace and the Celestial Pavilion, later studying at Saintess Peak, and had seen countless treasures. Chen Changsheng, though he had lived a simple life as a child, had also visited the Daming Palace and the Celestial Pavilion, and had seen the golden sea coral trees and starry skies adorned with night pearls in the Black Dragon's underground cavern. So earlier, in those nine stone chambers, they hadn't been moved by the treasures.
But now, they were truly astonished.
Because the number of treasures in the obsidian coffin was too vast, and too wasteful. The crystal carved into leaves retained less than a tenth of its original effect. The top-grade jadeite, which could have been used to create countless beautiful artworks, was all carved into grass blades. Not to mention the cinnabar stones condensed from goblin fire… If this wasn't squandering heaven's gifts, what was?
What stunned them most was that those leaves, grass, and stones had no aesthetic appeal whatsoever.
The obsidian coffin was filled with treasures, casting a glow into the dim tomb hall, but it only felt vulgar.
These burial treasures would be more than enough for any powerful noble or high-ranking cultivator in the world.
But how could they match the master of this obsidian coffin?
In people's imaginations, Zhou Dufu should have been a perfect man, especially in presence—one who looked down on mountains and rivers and disregarded the starry sea.
Zhou Garden, the Never-Setting Sun Grassland, and this grand mausoleum were all proof of that.
How could such a man fill his coffin with these extremely valuable yet crude jewels? Standing at the edge of the obsidian coffin, looking at the golden leaves, emerald grass, and blood-red cinnabar, Chen Changsheng couldn't help but shake his head. His eyes narrowed slightly from the dazzling glow of the treasures, and he said, "Why does it feel so tacky?"
"Tacky" was a local term from Wenshui. Tang Thirty-Six often used it in the National Teaching Academy to describe the elders of the Tianhai family and the court. Chen Changsheng had heard it so often that he remembered it.
Xu Yourong's focus clearly wasn't on these ostentatious displays inside the coffin. She looked at the empty black coffin, was silent for a moment, and then said, "Every cultivator who enters Zhou Garden wants most to find Zhou's Mausoleum. I'm no exception. But I've thought many times that if I entered the mausoleum, the thing I'd most want to do is confirm whether he really died."
Because of this, she recalled many things—the instructions from her elders before entering Zhou Garden—and her shoulders grew heavy again.
Earlier, on the stone platform, because of Chen Changsheng's clear eyes, she had temporarily forgotten those things. But now, this obsidian coffin brought them all back to her.
The inheritance of the Celestial Sect, the unification of north and south, the fight against the demon race—though not solely resting on her shoulders, this new discovery meant she had to do something.
"If… you can leave Zhou Garden alive."
She looked at Chen Changsheng and said very seriously, "Please, you must tell the world that he might still be alive."
As she spoke, her face was very pale. This wasn't due to her unhealed injuries but to the shock to her spiritual world.
Before the obsidian coffin opened, Chen Changsheng had also felt an inexplicable, unfounded fear of Zhou Dufu. Now, hearing her earnest request and seeing her pale face, his confusion deepened. He thought, Zhou Dufu was a hero—why did both she and he feel no admiration for this senior, but instead, vigilance?
"He was both a hero and a demon."
Xu Yourong looked at him and said, "When he went north long ago and severely wounded the Demon Lord with one strike, he was a hero. When he slaughtered countless human powerhouses, cold-blooded and ruthless, just to advance his cultivation, he was a demon. Calling him a warlord is more fitting. If he's still alive and reappears in the world, the continent will likely fall into great turmoil and chaos."
Although Chen Changsheng had thoroughly studied the Daoist canon, he didn't know much about the history of that era, nor did he understand Zhou Dufu's character. Seeing the worry on her face, he tried to reassure her, "Not finding remains doesn't mean he's still alive. For a legendary figure like him, returning to the starry sea without leaving a physical body is also possible."
"But his blade isn't in this obsidian coffin either," Xu Yourong said.
Chen Changsheng fell silent. Yes, that blade wasn't there either.
Zhou Dufu had become invincible under heaven by relying on that blade.
The blade was called Two Halves.
One strike, two halves.
Before its edge, no matter how powerful the opponent, how sturdy the divine weapon, or even the vast earth itself, everything would be split in two.
Just like the mountain-like obsidian coffin that had slowly split apart before their eyes.
The Two Halves Blade ranked second on the Hundred Weapons List, second only to the top-ranked Frost Leftover Divine Spear.
But in truth, everyone on the continent believed that if the Frost Leftover Divine Spear weren't the personal weapon of Emperor Taizong, and if it hadn't left so many miraculous images in the war between humans and the demon race, its ranking on the Hundred Weapons List couldn't surpass the Two Halves Blade. In other words, in people's hearts, the Two Halves Blade was the true number one on the Hundred Weapons List.
Because outside Luoyang City, the Frost Leftover Divine Spear in Emperor Taizong's hand had lost to the Two Halves Blade in Zhou Dufu's hand.
If Zhou Dufu had truly died, leaving no remains and turning into a wisp of smoke returning to the starry sea, no matter how you thought about it, his blade should have been left in this obsidian coffin.
That blade wasn't in the obsidian coffin, so it should still be with him—wasn't that the most important evidence that he was alive?
Xu Yourong stopped dwelling on this matter and began to face the approaching beast tide, preparing for what was to come. She looked at him and said, "Nanke is a disciple of the Black Robe, and the key to Zhou's Mausoleum, that piece of Soul Wood, is in her hands. The Black Robe was a contemporary of Zhou Dufu, so he can't be Zhou, but it's clear that there's some connection between the Black Robe and Zhou Dufu."
Chen Changsheng was puzzled about why she was telling him this.
Xu Yourong looked into his eyes and said, "If you can leave Zhou Garden alive, remember to tell the world about this discovery. It could greatly help in uncovering the Black Robe's true identity and might even play a decisive role in the war between humans and the demon race."
This was her second request to him.
She was asking him, if he lived, to do something.
So first, she was asking him to live—to ignore her and live, to bring these messages out of Zhou Garden.
When a phoenix is about to die, its cry is still bright.
If it were any other time, Chen Changsheng, moved by her calmness and persistence, might have unhesitatingly agreed to her request and used every method to try to leave Zhou Garden alive. But now, after spending so much time together fleeing, after their conversation on the stone platform under the green parasol tree, he couldn't agree to her request.
"Even if I left you in the mausoleum, breaking through the beast tide and leaving Zhou Garden alive would be a one-in-ten-thousand chance." Looking into Xu Yourong's eyes, he said, "One in ten thousand, but going against my heart—I won't do it, because I cultivate by following my heart."
The beast tide brought the shadow of death. At this moment, how could he follow his heart? His heart told him to stay with her—either escape together, or die here.
Xu Yourong's face paled slightly. She couldn't accept his decision, but her gaze was warm, joyful at his choice.
Chen Changsheng didn't give her a chance to persuade him further. He sheathed his short sword and began to gather the golden leaves, emerald grass, and blood-red cinnabar from the obsidian coffin.
These jewels were indeed vulgar, with decent craftsmanship but extremely lowbrow aesthetics. However, they were made from the finest materials, extremely rare and valuable. And since Zhou Dufu wasn't dead, this didn't count as grave robbing—the rules from the three thousand Daoist canons were thus bypassed.
Of course, the reason he was willing to bend the rules like this was that he sensed the Black Dragon in the lake outside the Netherworld Palace showing signs of waking. He didn't want to be scolded by that irritable dragon lord later—being drenched in dog's blood wouldn't feel good, and being covered in dragon saliva would be even worse.
The short sword, sheathed but still invincible, pointed where the golden leaves, emerald grass, and blood-red cinnabar vanished one by one, silently collected.
After doing this, he helped Xu Yourong prepare to descend from the obsidian coffin. Suddenly, Xu Yourong let out a cry of surprise, seeing something.
He turned and followed her gaze. Inside the now-empty obsidian coffin, where the treasures had been removed, there was nothing.
But on a certain part of the inner wall of the obsidian coffin, faintly visible, some carved lines appeared.
Those lines weren't patterns; they seemed to be characters.
Some lines also looked like pictures.
(First, today I discovered that Ze Tian Ji is being featured on Qidian's front page. Hmm, I feel a bit complicated. I didn't expect to meet some friends again on Qidian so soon. I still can't manage the book review section myself or upload content, so I can't communicate with everyone there. I'll just say hello here and thank you all. Also, regarding this month's task, the deputy moderator, Ugliest, calculated for me a few times and said that by yesterday, I was still 8,000 words short. I calculated back and forth and ended up more than 10,000 short… In the end, we both got confused. Never mind, I'll write to the upper limit. This chapter is 5,000 words, so I'll update at least 5,000 more today. Regarding the New Year, the Golden Keyboard, and thanking everyone, I'll connect with you all after I finish my work. See you tonight. I wish everyone a happy and enjoyable dinner tonight.)