Days in the Ancient Tomb

This was an exceedingly spacious stone chamber. At its center stood a stone bed carved from thousand-year-old cold jade, visibly wreathed in wisps of frigid vapor that lowered the temperature of the entire chamber to freezing.

An ordinary person who stayed there for even a short while would likely have their blood freeze.

And on that cold jade bed sat a woman in white, legs crossed.

She wore a white robe as pure as snow, its sleeves and hems fluttering lightly, untouched by dust. Her skin was crystalline as jade, and in the dim stone chamber, it seemed to emit a soft glow, almost transparent.

Her long, waterfall-black hair fell casually over her shoulders. The stark contrast between black and white made her peerlessly beautiful face seem all the more cool and otherworldly, as if she were no mortal.

Her eyes were closed, her expression indifferent. She seemed like a lifeless sculpture of ice and snow, untouched by worldly concerns, perfectly one with the chill around her.

Lin Xuan's gaze fell on her. Even though he was accustomed to his master Huang Rong's incomparable elegance, he couldn't help but lose himself for a moment.

This was an extreme kind of purity, an ethereal quality untouched by dust.

Her beauty did not lie in the perfection of her features, but in the air about her, as though she were cut off from the world.

Though she sat motionless, the contours of her figure were already breathtaking. Her loose white robe could not conceal her shapely curves: a slender waist, then rounded, pert hips. She truly was a beauty with skin like ice and bones like jade, a natural enchantress.

To look at her for even a moment longer felt like sacrilege.

On the other side of the stone chamber, a young man dressed in gray cloth was intently practicing a set of palm techniques.

He looked about fifteen or sixteen, with sword-straight brows and a straight nose. He was exceptionally handsome.

Yet his features carried an innate air of defiance and aloofness. He seemed like a lone wolf not yet tamed, his eyes full of wariness and curiosity toward the world.

These two were, naturally, Little Dragon Girl and Yang Guo.

Lin Xuan and Li Mochou had arrived without a sound, but their presence had still broken the tranquility that had lasted for years.

"Who?!"

Yang Guo was the first to notice them. He abruptly stopped his movements, turned around, and warily fixed his sharp eyes on the newcomers.

When he recognized Li Mochou's pale, familiar face, shock and hostility flashed through his eyes. He shouted, "Li Mochou! You demonic woman, you dare come here again!"

Before he had finished speaking, he instinctively reached for the sword at his side.

But his movements froze the next instant.

He had seen the composed man behind Li Mochou—and, more astonishingly, her unprecedentedly meek demeanor.

How... how could this be?

Yang Guo's mind went blank. How could the Crimson Fairy, a proud woman who killed without batting an eye, follow a man like a servant, not even daring to raise her head?

Little Dragon Girl, sitting on the cold jade bed, slowly opened her eyes at that moment.

What clear eyes they were, like an ancient pool a thousand years deep, profound and still, without a trace of impurity or the slightest ripple.

She simply looked at the two uninvited guests in silence, with a hint of pure curiosity.

"Senior Sister?"

Little Dragon Girl's voice was as clear as jade striking jade, ethereal and lovely, yet devoid of emotion. "What have you come for?"

Lin Xuan stepped forward, subtly placing himself between Li Mochou and the others.

A warm smile rested on his face. Like a spring breeze in the third month, it dispelled some of the chill in the ancient tomb.

The magnetic charm naturally radiating from his Yin Yang Deficit Supplementation Technique spread quietly, like invisible ripples.

At last, a faint ripple appeared in Little Dragon Girl's calm, well-like eyes.

It was a novel sensation she had never experienced before, something warm. It was as if sunlight had reached a lake frozen for years. The feeling was unfamiliar, but she did not dislike it.

"I am Lin Xuan. Greetings, Miss Long and Brother Yang."

Lin Xuan cupped his hands in salute, his voice clear and warm, neither servile nor overbearing.

"My master is Huang Rong. I have come to Zhongnan Mountain at the behest of my master and her husband to visit Brother Yang."

He paused, then turned his gaze to Yang Guo, his eyes sincere and open. "I went to the Quanzhen Sect first, only to learn that Brother Yang was no longer there. When I heard you had come to the ancient tomb, I took the liberty of seeking you out. Your master and her husband have been thinking of you. How have you been lately, Brother Yang?"

His words were faultless. He had explained who he was and why he had come, and his concern left no room for reproach.

At the mention of Guo Jing and Huang Rong, Yang Guo's expression grew complicated.

He was proud by nature, and he had never gotten along with Guo Fu or the Wu brothers on Peach Blossom Island. He had also felt wary of and resistant to Huang Rong's perceptive cleverness.

Hearing that they had sent someone to find him stirred a trace of long-forgotten warmth in him, but also an instinctive resistance.

"I... I'm fine," he replied in a muffled voice, though his gaze couldn't help straying to Li Mochou behind Lin Xuan. "I just don't know how Young Master Lin got this demonic woman to... obey you so completely."

That was what he was most curious about—and most shocked by.

Lin Xuan smiled faintly, his tone as casual as if he were talking about something trivial. "Oh, I happened upon Daoist Li Mochou in the mountains. Seeing her slaughter innocent people, I stepped in to stop her. Daoist Li is a woman of sound judgment. She repented and offered to follow me, reciting scriptures day and night to atone for her past misdeeds."

He made it sound effortless, but Yang Guo's heart was thrown into turmoil.

"Stepped in to stop her"?

"She repented"?

Who would believe that? What kind of terrifying strength would it take to turn Li Mochou, a demonic woman who killed without batting an eye, into this?

Looking at Lin Xuan's youthful face, barely older than his own, Yang Guo's estimation of him soared to unimaginable heights.

Though Yang Guo still had his doubts, he had always respected Guo Jing and his wife. Now that he had learned Lin Xuan was Huang Rong's disciple, and seen Li Mochou remain silent the entire time, he accepted Lin Xuan's explanation—though not without reservations.

He grew somewhat closer to Lin Xuan. After all, apart from his aunt, he had no other friends in the ancient tomb. Lin Xuan's arrival was a breath of fresh air in his monotonous life.

Little Dragon Girl remained seated as straight as a pine, her clear, watery gaze moving calmly between Lin Xuan and Li Mochou.

She was pure and simple by nature, and knew nothing of the ways of the world. She did not see through Lin Xuan's silver tongue.

Yet she could faintly sense the peaceful but profound, ocean-deep Internal Energy around him. It did not clash with the cold yin energy of the ancient tomb; instead, it somehow seemed to balance it. The sensation was strange, yet inexplicably comfortable.

She did not sense Lin Xuan's silent pressure on Li Mochou. She only noticed that Li Mochou did look unwell, but Little Dragon Girl had never shown any warmth to the Senior Sister who had left their sect, and couldn't be bothered to investigate.

After a brief conversation, the atmosphere in the stone chamber eased somewhat.

"I'd like to trouble you for a few days. Would that be possible?" Lin Xuan took the opportunity to make his request.

"The ancient tomb is a quiet place and does not admit outside guests."

Little Dragon Girl spoke again at last, her voice still as cool as jade beads falling onto a plate. "It is not suitable for outsiders to stay here long."

Though she did not think Lin Xuan was a bad person, the ancient tomb's rules were strict. Only members of the Ancient Tomb Sect could reside there; that was the dying wish of their founding patriarch.

At her words, Lin Xuan let a trace of "disappointment" show on his face, but soon resumed his respectful expression.

He sighed. "Miss Long is quite right. I was presumptuous. However... I came deep into Zhongnan Mountain not only to visit Brother Yang, but also to fulfill another wish of my ancestors. That is why I hoped to stay in the ancient tomb for a few days. I ask you to grant my request, in consideration of my filial devotion."

Yang Guo and Little Dragon Girl both looked curious. Yang Guo couldn't help asking, "Brother Lin, what else is it?"

Lin Xuan's expression turned solemn. He bowed deeply to Little Dragon Girl, his tone utterly earnest, with even a faint trace of pleading.

"To be honest, my name is Lin Xuan, so naturally my ancestors were also surnamed Lin. The elders in my family once told me that my branch of the family and your sect's founding patriarch, Lin Chaoying, came from the same clan. We were separated and scattered during the wars of that time."

"I came here not only because I could not refuse my master's command, but also to visit the ancient tomb, pay my respects to the relics of my ancestor, and fulfill my family's wish!"

His words struck like a thunderclap.

Yang Guo and Little Dragon Girl were both utterly stunned.

Little Dragon Girl had grown up in the ancient tomb and knew little about the outside world or her own family. She only knew that Lin Chaoying was the sect's founding patriarch, a peerless martial artist who had shared a momentous history with Wang Chongyang of the Quanzhen Sect.

And this man before her claimed to be the founding patriarch's "relative"?

It was simply unbelievable!

"You... are you truly connected to our founding patriarch?"

For the first time, a hint of unmistakable surprise and confusion appeared on Little Dragon Girl's impassive face.

Lin Xuan's gaze was utterly sincere. He knew this was the crucial moment. Rather than ramble on about his "family tree"—which could easily be exposed—he chose the approach most likely to move Little Dragon Girl: emotion and a story.

"What I say is entirely true. I would never dare deceive you, Miss Long."

Lin Xuan's voice lowered, taking on a wistful tone, as if he were truly recounting a tale passed down by his ancestors.

"My ancestors once said that though Lin Chaoying seemed aloof and otherworldly, she also had a proud streak. When she competed in martial arts with Senior Wang Chongyang, she seemed to vie with him at every turn, but in truth there was a hidden meaning behind it all."

"My ancestors said that Lin Chaoying deliberately lost to Senior Wang Chongyang by half a move in martial arts to spur him to greater effort. Then she used his own methods against him, winning the Tomb of the Living Dead through a clever stratagem."

Lin Xuan gave Lin Chaoying more depth and warmth, transforming her from a distant, legendary figure into someone more human.

"My ancestors also said that Lin Chaoying did not spend every day practicing in the ancient tomb. She once kept a flock of pure-white doves. Each morning, they would fly through the tomb as she spoke to them. She would even smile, on rare occasions, when a nameless flower bloomed in a crack in the stone or a mountain breeze drifted in from the tomb entrance."

Lin Xuan made up a few more anecdotes about Lin Chaoying, details no outsider could possibly have known.

His tone brimmed with reverence and affection for his legendary ancestor. Little Dragon Girl and Yang Guo listened, both astonished.

Yang Guo listened with rapt attention. He imagined their cool, peerlessly beautiful founding patriarch with such a lively, spirited side, and it completely overturned his impression of her.

Though Little Dragon Girl's expression did not change, her clear eyes rippled.

She knew little about her founding patriarch, apart from her martial arts and her feud with the Quanzhen Sect.

Now, the little details full of human warmth that Lin Xuan described made her feel as though her founding patriarch was no longer a distant legend, but a real woman who had once lived, with flesh and blood, who could laugh and play.

She had come to believe most of what Lin Xuan said.

Seeing that the time was right, Lin Xuan continued:

"I came here not because I covet the peace of the ancient tomb, and I certainly have no designs on anything here. I only hope to stay for a few days, pay my respects to Senior Lin Chaoying's relics, and experience the legacy of my ancestors. That would fulfill one of my wishes and let me report back to my elders."

"Once my wish is fulfilled, I will leave at once. I will not disturb your cultivation, Miss Long, or yours, Brother Yang."

Little Dragon Girl fell silent for a moment.

She looked at Lin Xuan and once again sensed the profound Internal Energy emanating from him, reserved yet immensely deep.

It made her feel inexplicably comfortable and close to him.

She could not sense any ill intent from Lin Xuan. His words seemed sincere, and his respect for the founding patriarch appeared heartfelt.

The chance to approach the founding patriarch's relics—and even hear more stories about her from someone "close" to her—was an enormous temptation.

At last, her gaze settled on Lin Xuan. There seemed to be a touch more warmth in her cool voice.

"Since you are descended from an old acquaintance of our founding patriarch, you may stay. The ancient tomb is simple, but it will suffice for a temporary stay."

"Thank you for granting my request, Miss Long!"

Gratitude showed on Lin Xuan's face.

The Days in the Ancient Tomb

The conditions in the ancient tomb were far from comfortable.

The air was damp, and the sun never shone in.

Lin Xuan's arrival was like a ray of sunlight slipping through a crack in the mountains.

He made himself right at home, turning guest into host. Within a few days, he had familiarized himself with every twist and turn of the ancient tomb's passageways.

Yang Guo, who had initially been wary of Lin Xuan, gradually grew familiar with him.

For a boy on the cusp of adulthood like Yang Guo, life in the ancient tomb was an endless torment.

Granny Sun's death was a wound in his heart that had yet to scab over.

And his master—the woman he called "Aunt"—was beautiful beyond belief, but as cold as ice.

He respected her, and he feared her.

Whenever he tried to speak to her from the heart, he usually got nothing but a faint glance and a two-word reply.

That sense of distance could freeze any boy's youthful warmth into a lump of ice.

Every day came down to two things: practicing martial arts and staring blankly at the wall.

Lin Xuan's arrival was like a warm breeze carrying the scent of everyday life, sweeping away the stifling gloom.

He was more than a playmate; he was like an older brother who knew everything.

One afternoon, Yang Guo was practicing in the stone chamber, sweat dampening the hair over his forehead. Lin Xuan leaned against the wall, arms folded, smiling.

"Brother Yang, your palm technique has a decent form."

"But it's a shame," he continued. "Your force is too rigid. You only know how to charge ahead with brute strength, completely wasting the essence of the Ancient Tomb Sect's martial arts: 'lightness, agility, finesse, and adaptability.'"