Lan Tian stepped over the shattered remains of the stone door and followed the dark-blue passageway ahead.
The stone tiles beneath his feet were smooth and level, each one fitted together seamlessly.
The blue ores embedded in the walls on either side gave off a steady, gentle glow, illuminating the entire passage with the cold clarity of moonlight reflecting off water.
The passage was not long. After some twenty or thirty steps, the space ahead suddenly opened up into a square secret chamber.
The chamber was small, only three or four zhang across, and its four walls were likewise built from that grayish-white stone.
The ceiling was vaulted, and at its highest point was a relief carving of a crescent moon. The blue ores cast a hazy glow along its curve, while silver-white lines flickered faintly in the gloom.
The entire chamber carried a dry, ancient air, like a box sealed away for countless years that, upon finally being opened, slowly released centuries of dust and silence.
At the center of the chamber stood a stone platform.
Its surface had been polished as smooth as a mirror, and seated cross-legged atop it was a skeleton.
The bones remained in an upright seated posture, its hands folded over its knees, spine straight, skull slightly lowered, as if it were merely resting with its eyes closed and might open them again at any moment.
The skeleton was ivory-white throughout, its surface smooth and lustrous. Despite enduring the passage of countless years, it had neither decayed nor crumbled. Instead, it seemed to have been protected by some force, preserving its final dignity against the flow of time.
Lan Tian stopped three paces before the platform. He looked at the seated skeleton in silence for a moment, then solemnly bowed.
"Rest in peace, Senior.