Volume Two: A Season of Many Affairs - Twists and Turns. Chapter 93: The Golden Toad Carrying the Child. Ancient Tomb Wooden Coffin.

Originally, I thought it was impossible for an imperial tomb to be hidden in this village. Most likely, some golden silkworm bred by a gu master had escaped on its own. Yet when I climbed the eastern mountain and looked down, I discovered a peculiar spot.

This place rose high, resembling a small hill. Shrubs covered its crest, and two large ravines slashed through the terrain, conspicuous and unmistakable. The sides of these ravines formed the shape of three legs; from above, the hill looked like a three-legged toad. In geomancy, such a formation is called "the golden toad carries its offspring."

The grand feng shui of the area was ordinary, but the smaller configuration—the golden toad carrying its child—was extraordinary. Where the golden toad resides, wealth and nobility follow; even in death, one stands above others.

Such feng shui patterns are always natural; humans cannot craft them. This formation holds a special property—it is meant only for burying offspring, typically those of distinguished figures.

"But offspring alone are useless," Chang Yu interjected, puzzled. "If they're not emperors, they lack imperial aura; there won't be any golden silkworms."

"Think carefully—it's not as if every offspring lacks imperial aura," Yang Chengzi replied, deliberately withholding the answer. Chang Yu and Chen San knitted their brows, at a loss.

"Would a crown prince who inherits the throne count?" As the group racked their brains, Chen Xin voiced her doubts.

Chang Yu and Chen San stared at Chen Xin, who grew self-conscious. "Just guessing," she murmured.

Yang Chengzi smiled. "Chen Xin, don’t be modest. Even your guesses surpass theirs. Yes, the crown prince who ascends the throne. If my suspicions are correct, that spot may have been the resting place of such a prince, buried centuries ago."

"You—you mean we’re about to enter the imperial mausoleum of a crown prince?" Chen San felt a wave of foreboding.

"Of course, we must investigate. If there truly is an imperial tomb, we’ll need to deal with the corpse inside. The golden silkworm has escaped, and he’s not far behind."

"What if there’s no imperial tomb?" Chen San, unwilling to accept it, pressed the point.

"If there’s no tomb, it means the feng shui has not yet been used; the golden silkworm did not emerge from a grave. Instead, we’ll have to spend time tracking down the gu master."

Clutching his head, Chen San felt dazed. "Let’s just hope it’s the tomb. The sooner we solve this, the sooner we can move on. Honestly, if you’d just listened to Yang Chengzi instead of chasing the silkworm, none of this would’ve happened." He glared at Chang Yu in frustration.

Chang Yu pouted, guilt written on her face, secretly weighing what excuse she could use to give Chen San a thrashing.

After supper, night had already fallen. Chen San found two hoes inside the house and set out with Yang Chengzi.

They couldn’t light torches along the way; if anyone saw them, it could lead to trouble. Instead, they relied on the moonlight, stumbling step by step toward their destination.

"I say, won’t the golden silkworm escape? What if it slips away now—how will we find the gu master?" Chen San muttered as they walked.

"It can’t escape now. I’ve sealed it with a grand Bagua formation. It’s stuck wandering that tree."

"Why didn’t you use it this afternoon, then? You made me watch it on purpose."

"Can you think about something useful? All day, it’s just marriage, marriage. If I’d carved the Bagua formation on the mulberry tree in daylight, the villagers would’ve noticed."

"I..." Chen San was momentarily speechless.

Yang Chengzi clapped his hand on Chen San’s shoulder. "Quit fussing. When the time comes, summon Wan’er and the Spirit Tiger. If there’s really an imperial tomb below, we may not be able to handle it alone."

Chen San looked surprised. "Not able to handle it? You dragged me here to die? I refuse! You go by yourself—I still want to get married!" He tried to shrug off the hand.

Yang Chengzi tightened his grip; Chen San couldn’t break free.

"No, no, no—the reason I told you to summon them is precisely because we might be outmatched. If the corpse poses a problem, the Spirit Tiger can handle it. It’s not a ghost; Spirit Tiger is formidable. It’s a corpse-person, remember? Last time, you wanted to see one—this could be even stronger than the one at Qichang."

Chen San’s heart stirred at the mention of corpse-persons. He’d missed his chance before, fainting at the rare sight. This time, the opportunity was knocking; why would he pass it up?

Despite his eagerness, he feigned indifference. "Go on, enough nonsense. If nothing happens, I’ll hold you to your words."

Shouldering their hoes, the two made their way toward the golden toad formation. It took nearly the time of burning a stick of incense, but at last they arrived. From above, the hill truly resembled a three-legged toad.

Up close, though, it was different. The earthen mound towered like a small mountain. They circled it, and after seeing the two deep ravines, Yang Chengzi confirmed they were in the right spot.

Having found the location, they began to dig. Yang Chengzi calculated the direction—the tomb entrance should be on the west, at the ravines. With that, they threw themselves into their work.

After a while, they'd hollowed out a cave, but saw no sign of a tomb entrance. Yang Chengzi called Chen San out.

"Something feels off," he said.

Chen San blinked and nodded. "Yeah, something’s off. We’ve entered others’ tombs before, but this feels awkward since we’re digging our own."

Yang Chengzi scratched his head, staring at the cave.

He slapped Chen San’s shoulder. "Down, down, down."

Chen San almost coughed up blood from the blow, rubbing his shoulder. "Down? Can’t you explain? It hurts!"

Yang Chengzi massaged his shoulder. "Got carried away. Below—dig below. What are we doing with a cave? Tombs are underground."

Chen San rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding? You’re a disciple of Maoshan and don’t know tombs are below? Wasted our time."

"It’s not that I don’t know. I just never thought a Daoist would have to dig a grand tomb himself. First time, no experience. Enough chatter, let’s dig downward." He stepped back, tapping the ground with his hoe.

Chen San shook his head and followed, striking the spot Yang Chengzi indicated. The hoe stuck fast.

Yang Chengzi paused. "What’s wrong? Hit something?"

Chen San lifted his head with a sly grin, obviously up to something.

"Out with it," Yang Chengzi snapped. "Don’t grin like that—it’s unsettling."

Chen San dashed outside and waved for Yang Chengzi to follow.

Raising an eyebrow, he said, "Wait—why tire ourselves? Let the Spirit Tiger dig. Those big claws shouldn’t go to waste." With that, he closed his eyes, and in an instant, the Spirit Tiger appeared.

A roar echoed across the sky. Before it finished, Chen San rushed in, hugging the tiger’s neck. "Tiger brother, tiger brother, don’t leave. Help us dig, and you’ll be rewarded with good food."

The Spirit Tiger, attuned to Chen San’s mind, knew immediately what was wanted.

King of beasts, proud and mighty—how could it suffer such humiliation?

It shrugged off Chen San’s hands, then darted into the woods, swiftly returning with two wild rabbits. Chen San had already prepared the fire; he skinned and roasted them.

The cave filled with the aroma of meat. Spirit Tiger dug energetically, dog-paddle style, sending dirt and sand flying. Chen San busied himself with roasting, while Yang Chengzi stood awkwardly aside.

Suddenly, a booming sound reverberated.

Spirit Tiger bared its teeth and retreated, as if it had discovered something. Chen San hurriedly shoved the half-cooked rabbits into its mouth.

Yang Chengzi moved toward the sound, Chen San followed, both clearing away the sand. Where they dug, a dragon-shaped engraving emerged—an expanse of white stone.

Seeing the dragon motif, it was almost certain this was the tomb of a crown prince.

"By the sound, there’s empty space below; this is the dome of the tomb. If we dig further back, the entrance should be there."

Chen San had no experience in tomb-digging, but Yang Chengzi had seen hints in ancient texts. Where Yang Chengzi pointed, Chen San dug. Retreating a few steps, he began to scrape away.

Another dull thud resounded, different from Spirit Tiger’s earlier noise. Chen San scraped with his hoe, revealing a stone tablet connected to the dome.

"Look, a tombstone."

Yang Chengzi brushed off the dirt and inspected it. "This isn’t a tombstone—it’s the tomb gate. Let’s uncover the whole entrance and go in through it."

Once more, they started digging. After some time, Chen San glanced up—Spirit Tiger had finished eating and lounged nearby, watching their slow progress. He signaled it to dig more.

Though reluctant, Spirit Tiger saw their slow pace and quickly clawed open an entrance, revealing the tomb gate.

Dragon motifs adorned the gate, but the two dragons had no horns, which seemed odd. They soared through clouds, beautifully rendered.

As they pondered how to enter, Spirit Tiger suddenly slammed its paw down, shattering half the stone gate with a thunderous crash.

Another roar, as if showing off its strength. A cold wind swept through; Chen San and Yang Chengzi stood stunned.

The stone gate lay smashed, and inside the tomb chamber, darkness reigned. Even with moonlight, nothing within was visible.

Just as Chen San was about to praise Spirit Tiger, a strange "hoo, hoo, hoo" sound came from the chamber.

It sounded like breathing. Chen San shivered, swallowing his words, while Yang Chengzi frowned at the darkness.

Spirit Tiger showed no fear, standing at the entrance. Chen San slunk behind Yang Chengzi.

"Light two torches before we go in," Yang Chengzi said.

Before he finished, Chen San had already dismantled their hoes, creating two tall firebrands.

Yang Chengzi stared incredulously. "Why break the hoes? Is it so hard to find sticks?"

"It’s not about sticks—it’s about long sticks. Why waste time? When we’re done, we’ll replace the handles."

"You’re just scared, aren’t you? Using such long torches—afraid you’ll poke right into a coffin?"

"Of course I’m scared. If something jumps out, I want distance. If I wait until I see it up close, it’s too late to run."

Yang Chengzi shook his head; fear had bred ingenuity.

With firebrands lit, they entered, Spirit Tiger following, hunched as the passage was narrow.

Not far in, they encountered a problem: two paths, left and right. Yang Chengzi closed his eyes, sensing for any ghostly or baleful energy, found none, and had Spirit Tiger guard the spot while he and Chen San took the left path.

Winding through for the time of a stick of incense, they found the tomb to be like an eight-trigram maze—small but labyrinthine.

They searched every side chamber for burial items, but the main coffin eluded them.

Spirit Tiger lounged in the passage, watching their efforts. Both Yang Chengzi and Chen San sensed something odd about the tomb, but Yang Chengzi couldn’t pinpoint the issue, which frustrated Chen San.

Carelessly, Chen San jabbed his firebrand against the wall, leaving a blackened mark.

Yang Chengzi stared at the mark, as if struck by inspiration. He instructed Chen San to leave a trail of burned marks as they went.

Following the trail, Yang Chengzi realized the tomb’s layout was indeed a maze; wandering would circle them back. Luckily, they’d discovered this early. Following unmarked walls, they soon found a massive wooden coffin.

It must be the main chamber—but why a wooden coffin? If it truly held a crown prince from some dynasty, with such secretive design, surely a golden coffin would be expected. The wooden coffin seemed downright shabby.

"Did we find the wrong place? This coffin isn’t even as fine as those in our town. Surely a crown prince wouldn’t be buried in this?"

Yang Chengzi had the same doubts. Torch in hand, he circled the coffin. No special features—just plain wood, no lacquer, which felt wrong.

Suddenly, scratching sounds echoed. Yang Chengzi spun around in alarm, only to see Chen San scraping at the coffin with his fingers.

Relieved, he shouted, "What are you doing? Scraping at the coffin—are you tired of living? Don’t want to get married?"

Chen San kept at it, then inspected with his torch.

"Look, I saw some sheen when the torch hit the coffin—it looks like gold inside."

Yang Chengzi frowned, coming closer. The wood Chen San scraped away did reveal a golden sheen, like gold threads embedded in the grain. He dug a bit more—no gold, just wood.

Yang Chengzi marveled; he’d never seen wood emit golden light. Despite it being a coffin, it was unusually beautiful.

It was clearly not ordinary timber—perhaps even pricier than gold. He’d seen gold before, but never such wood, and here it was in the golden toad tomb.

As for the corpse, they’d have to open the coffin to find out. Without yellow talismans as before, they couldn’t rely on those; they'd have to open it by force.

Yang Chengzi calculated the timing.

Chen San’s legs began to tremble; a sense of foreboding crept over him.

He grabbed Yang Chengzi’s sleeve. "Maybe we should leave—the coffin’s intact, let’s go, I—I’m feeling weak."

Yang Chengzi glanced at Chen San’s legs, twitching like they were cramping.

"Can you be any more cowardly? We’re already here and now you want to leave? Go ahead—I won’t stop you."

Chen San slapped Yang Chengzi’s hand. "How would I find my way out? Lead the way!"

Yang Chengzi shook his head. "I’m opening the coffin. Let Spirit Tiger in. If you’re scared, stay aside."

Despite Yang Chengzi’s resolve, Chen San’s trembling didn’t stop. He summoned Spirit Tiger, which soon entered with a series of booming thuds.

No need to look—those sounds meant Spirit Tiger had smashed its way through. Chen San retreated behind the wall, peeking in. Spirit Tiger growled in disdain, moving beside Yang Chengzi.

If the golden silkworm had truly escaped from this coffin, inside must be the corpse of a prince destined for the throne.

Centuries had passed, yet the imperial aura remained, nurturing the corpse worms into golden silkworms. Surely the corpse was no ordinary undead.

Yang Chengzi loosened his fists, tossed the Shangqing sword to Chen San, and began forming seals. The Great Bagua Heavenly Formation appeared at his feet.

"Heaven is dry, force turns the heavens."

The dry position of the formation shifted instantly beneath Yang Chengzi’s feet.

He targeted the lid of the coffin, striking upward with his palm. The lid, along with several nails, flew off, crashing against the wall and falling.

A dull thud echoed through the chamber. Chen San, startled by Yang Chengzi’s force, shivered as the coffin was opened.

Yang Chengzi barely had time to look when a loud crack sounded from inside; something moved. He leapt back, Spirit Tiger crouched, claws extended, ready to strike.

A strange fragrance wafted from the coffin, accompanied by more cracking sounds. This time, Chen San heard it too, his heart pounding.

Suddenly, with a deafening boom, both sides of the coffin flew off. Before they hit the ground, a figure rose upright—face gaunt as a corpse, clad in bright imperial robes, crowned with beads, standing straight and unbending.

Yang Chengzi was shocked; his guess was spot-on. Judging by the attire, it was a prince from some dynasty. The color of his robes, though faded, unmistakably belonged to imperial rank; only royalty could wear such hues throughout the ages.