Chapter Seventy-Five: Opening the Coffin

“Father, that female corpse is moving!” I cried out in alarm, pointing at her.

“No way,” Fatty exclaimed, immediately looking up as well.

We saw that the naked female corpse was no longer smiling; her face had twisted into a mask of fury. First, she rotated her neck, then her body, suspended in midair, started to glide slowly as though floating in water.

If not for the expression on her face, her posture would have been alluring, but now she was clearly enraged by Father’s actions, as if she intended to swoop down and stop him.

Yet Father seemed completely indifferent. He gazed quietly at the jade coffin, neither responding to Fatty and me nor paying any heed to the strange happenings above.

“No coffin set, no carvings, nine feet eight inches of yellow jade, hollowed at the center, filled with mercury—an upper-middle grade coffin, within which a body can remain uncorrupted for a hundred years. The lid has no latch, no mechanism, no clay, no hidden poison, can be opened at will.”

We were sweating with anxiety, but Father remained calm, murmuring softly to himself. I didn’t understand a word at the time; only later did I learn that this was a habit he’d acquired over many years.

Father had opened countless coffins over decades, and before each one, he would recite its characteristics. Why he did this, only he knew.

Fatty whispered in my ear, “Your father is known as Star-Plucking Hand. I heard that when he opens coffins, he grabs the most valuable treasure inside in a blink. It’s not just about skill; it takes sharp eyes, keen ears, and a sensitive nose.”

I had no mind to listen to Fatty. My attention was entirely fixed on the female corpse. To be honest, staring at her for too long made my face flush, but every time her face flickered before my eyes, I snapped out of the seductive trance.

Father must have been aware of the commotion above, but his demeanor remained unnervingly composed, as if nothing around him concerned him at all. His right hand paused above a corner of the jade coffin, and he muttered, “You have only yourself to blame. After living so long, it’s time you paid your debt.”

There was a murderous intent in his words; his eyes widened, facial muscles twitching. The sight chilled me to the bone.

With that, Father suddenly pressed down with his right hand. Fatty and I saw the lid of the jade coffin spring open. In the instant it bounced up, Father’s hands darted inside. My vision blurred, and in a flash, he pulled something out. At the same moment, there was a clang, and the coffin lid settled back into place.

The entire process lasted less than a second. By the time I could see clearly, Father had already pinned what he’d retrieved onto the coffin lid.

What he held down was a boy dressed in green robes. The boy looked no older than six or seven, though the robes were clearly meant for an adult. What struck me most was that the boy didn’t look like a corpse at all; his chest was gently rising and falling, as if he were breathing.

Fatty was dumbfounded. “Damn, he’s alive!”

No sooner had he spoken than the floating female corpse suddenly writhed violently. We all jumped in fright. She opened her mouth, her bones twisting grotesquely. In the silence, I heard the muffled crack of snapping bones. Within seconds, the once stunningly beautiful corpse had contorted herself into a ball of flesh midair.

My heart raced with terror. Then I noticed that the seven transparent threads piercing her body were slowly filling with a dark red substance, seeping toward her.

Fatty and I exchanged glances, instantly recognizing what the red stuff was.

“Shit, isn’t that the red vapor from the Bloodwater Cedar?” Fatty shouted.

I was horrified. The memory of the incident made the wound on my back ache anew.

As the red vapor poured into the female corpse, the ball of flesh gradually turned crimson. Soon after, the red skin began to melt into blood, dripping onto the jade coffin lid and the boy below. The blood hissed as it corroded the boy’s green robes, and even the jade coffin wasn’t spared. Its corrosive power was identical to the white liquid spat out by the Reverse Scale.

I yelled to Father, “Father, run!” Seeing him still standing there, I prepared to dash forward. But just as I stepped out, the skinless flesh ball crashed onto the coffin lid. In an instant, the boy was completely enveloped by the crimson mass. Father, meanwhile, had already withdrawn his hands and stood quietly to the side, watching.

Fatty and I were baffled. The female corpse had lunged for the boy in the coffin, showing no hostility toward my father.

Suddenly, all other sounds faded away, leaving only the piercing hiss of flesh being eaten away by strong acid.

Father exhaled slowly, then stepped out from among the cross-legged dry corpses. The moment he reached us, his body wavered, and Fatty and I rushed to support him.

“Sixth Master...” Fatty stared at the scene atop the coffin, dumbstruck for a long time. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Father, are you alright?” I saw blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but he managed to force a smile at me.

“...Son, my son...” Father spoke each word with difficulty.

Fatty said nervously, “Hey, your father isn’t having a deathbed rally, is he?”

“Don’t talk nonsense!” I glared at Fatty and turned to Father. “Father, stop talking. Let’s get out of here.”

Just then, Father pressed his left hand to my chest. To my surprise, he handed me a flat, square wooden box. I took it without time to inspect it, ready to carry him on my back.

Fatty pushed me aside and hoisted Father onto his own back. “With your build, you’d better not try to play the hero right now.”

Grateful, I nodded at Fatty and prepared to leave. As soon as I turned, Fatty let out a strange cry. I spun around, and terror jolted me backward until I crashed into a stone rack holding burial artifacts.

The headless dry corpses, at some unknown moment, had all started crawling toward the yellow jade coffin. The scene was utterly horrifying—they piled atop one another, all scrambling to reach the coffin lid, but no matter how they pressed forward, the frontmost layer failed to ascend.

At that moment, a shrill scream erupted from the ball of flesh atop the coffin. It sounded like a child’s cry. Suddenly, I felt the ground grow unstable. After a few seconds, I realized the main tomb chamber was shaking violently.

“Fatty, this place is about to collapse! Move!” I shouted.

But Fatty didn’t budge. “No, I felt this kind of tremor the first time I came here, outside the screen...”

His words reminded me of their earlier ordeal.

“Damn, didn’t Sixth Master say as long as there weren’t more than three people, it’d be fine? This is…” Fatty was clearly terrified of these things. Before he could finish, a piercing screech swept over our heads, and something plummeted from the darkness above the tomb, smashing onto the ball of flesh. Instantly, a head-shaped hole appeared in the mass, and the infant’s cries below grew ever more agonizing.

Fatty and I were utterly confused, unable to grasp what was happening. In the moments that followed, countless human heads rained down from above, accompanied by bizarre sounds, all smashing onto the female corpse’s twisted flesh ball. Within minutes, the mass was reduced to a puddle of red blood.

The yellow jade coffin was drenched in blood; the boy was gone. Around the coffin, hundreds of shriveled human heads piled up. I saw on their faces a myriad of horrifying expressions, like the imprints on the bronze door. The surrounding corpses stretched their arms, frantically snatching the heads, the scene so nightmarish it defied description.