Volume Two: Travels in Qi Chapter 81: The Way to Break the Door

Wu Hong led his group through the central passage. The interior was decorated in an ancient style, with an atmosphere that exuded a constant sense of gloom. Up ahead, the path split once more, but Wu Hong was holding a map, so there was no fear of making a wrong turn. The party proceeded with utmost caution as they explored the tomb.

But this was no ordinary ancient tomb—if anything, it was more like an underground city. They had walked for ages and still hadn’t reached the burial chamber. Who could fathom what the tomb’s owner was thinking? Once dead, what was the point of all this elaborate design?

A group of low-level cultivators followed behind Zhang Heng and his companions, likely the same people who had gathered at the tomb entrance. Noticing Zhang Heng’s party had a map, they decided to tag along, hoping to benefit without effort.

Zhang Heng noticed this and chuckled. Those trailing them dared not get too close, fearing Wu Hong’s displeasure, yet they also didn’t dare fall too far behind, lest they lose their way.

At last, after what felt like countless hours, Zhang Heng and the others arrived at a burial chamber. However, it had clearly been searched by many cultivators before, and was now empty and barren. The group decided to rest for a while here, for ahead lay the true heart of the tomb, certain to be fraught with peril. They needed to be in their best condition.

Wu Hong fixed his gaze sternly on Zhang Heng and spoke in a serious tone, “Zhang Heng, you…”

He didn’t need to finish. The look on Wu Hong’s face told Zhang Heng exactly what he meant, and he quickly interrupted, “Don’t worry, Elder Wu. I’ll be sure to stick close to you all and not act on my own.”

“Don’t blame me for nagging, boy. Your life isn’t just your own—it also concerns the future of alchemy across the entire cultivation continent. You can’t die here.” Wu Hong’s face was tinged with sadness as he spoke earnestly.

With alchemy in decline, he was merely a minor fourth-rank alchemist, unable to do much. But Zhang Heng was different. Only twenty years old and already able to refine second-rank pills—one day, he might even become a seventh-rank alchemist, or perhaps even an eighth-rank master, a feat unseen for thousands of years.

So Zhang Heng absolutely could not come to harm.

Zhang Heng hurriedly replied, “Elder Wu, I’ve always been afraid of dying, so you can trust that I won’t try to show off.”

Satisfied with this answer, Wu Hong turned away, sat cross-legged, and began to meditate in silence.

Qi Xuan, seeing that no one was paying him any attention, felt rather awkward and tried to make conversation to assert his presence. Taking a seat beside Wu Hong, he glanced at Zhang Heng and asked curiously, “Alchemist Wu, is this young man your disciple?”

Wu Hong replied with a faint smile, “He is not. In fact, with my meager skills, I’m not even fit to be his master’s master.”

If he could, he truly wished to be Zhang Heng’s teacher. The young man was destined to become an exceptional alchemist, and then he, Wu Hong, would be the master of the future King of Alchemy. But this was not about pride—he simply hoped to do his part for the revival of alchemy.

Qi Xuan, hearing this, studied Zhang Heng closely and replied humbly, “Elder Wu, you’re too modest. You’re the number one alchemist in our Qi Kingdom. How could you not be qualified?”

Yet no matter how he looked at it, Zhang Heng seemed perfectly ordinary.

Wu Hong’s expression grew stern. “He is anything but ordinary. I have dedicated two centuries to alchemy and reached only the fourth rank—certainly not enough to be his teacher.”

Seeing Wu Hong’s displeasure, Qi Xuan, despite his growing curiosity about Zhang Heng, refrained from asking further and swiftly changed the subject.

“Elder Wu, after this treasure hunt, will you return to the Imperial City?” Qi Xuan asked.

“Why do you ask?” Wu Hong replied, a hint of impatience in his voice.

“It’s like this: my royal father has asked me to invite you to act as the impartial judge for the upcoming ‘Imperial City Tournament.’ What do you think, Elder Wu?” Despite being a prince, Qi Xuan was extremely respectful toward Wu Hong.

“I’m not interested. All I know is alchemy. As for anything else, I’m afraid you’ll have to find someone else,” Wu Hong replied bluntly.

Qi Xuan thought to himself that this was the same old excuse, but he persisted no further, choosing instead to sit quietly and compose himself.

Zhang Heng, meanwhile, had no inclination to adjust his mindset—there was simply no need. Soon, others might be fighting for their lives, but he only needed to relax and let his companions carry him to victory.

He glanced with a smile toward the group of low-level cultivators in the distance. The group was secretly alarmed—had this young man noticed them? Watching as they retreated further back, Zhang Heng’s smile grew even wider. These people were both pitiable and laughable.

Once everyone had finished preparing, Wu Hong stood up, his gaze deep as he looked ahead. “Everyone, let us begin.”

At his words, the group rose to their feet.

“Very well, let’s go.” Wu Hong led them forward according to the map’s directions.

They passed through chamber after chamber, never stopping, as each one had already been thoroughly searched by others, leaving behind nothing but useless odds and ends.

The tomb’s chambers were many, twisted and complex. Without a map, one could easily become hopelessly lost.

Zhang Heng watched the bewildered treasure-hunting cultivators but paid them no mind. What was meant to be would be, and what was not could not be forced. If they were truly fated, they would find something worthwhile here.

As they continued, the number of people around them dwindled, a sure sign that they were venturing deeper into the tomb. Everyone grew more alert, heightening their vigilance.

Before long, Wu Hong brought them to a halt outside a burial chamber. The door here was tightly shut and covered in a thin layer of dust, indicating that no one had entered before.

No one was more excited than Zhang Heng. He had only ever seen tomb-raiding adventures on television or read about them in novels, but how could that compare to experiencing it firsthand? Though thrilled, he kept a low profile, staying at the back of the group.

They began to search for a way to open the door. The quickest method, of course, would be to blast it open with powerful spiritual force, but that could damage any treasures inside or trigger hidden mechanisms. Unless absolutely necessary, this was not an option.

The door was carved from a massive slab of stone, plain and unadorned except for a simple skull motif.

While the others searched for hidden mechanisms, Zhang Heng found himself drawn to the skull. Approaching the door, he examined it carefully and reached out to touch it. The texture was smooth, but he could feel a faint chill emanating from it—probably just the dampness of the place, he thought.

Suddenly, with a gentle push from Zhang Heng, the door swung open.

The others, still hunting for hidden switches, stared at Zhang Heng in disbelief.

He shook his head, just as confused as they were. They had only assumed the door was tightly sealed and had searched for a mechanism, never thinking to simply try opening it.

Wu Hong, who had been crouching on the ground searching, rose awkwardly and walked inside. However it had opened, the important thing was that the door was now open—that was all that mattered.