Yaoyao's brother knew how to trace dragon veins and read the mountain coils

Chen Hao lowered his gaze to the dark tomb passage, his fingers forming a nearly imperceptible hand seal inside his sleeve.

Years ago, while traveling beyond the frontier, he had stumbled upon Feng Changqing's tomb and casually laid down an Illusion Array. Otherwise, it would likely have fallen prey to tomb raiders.

As a barely detectable wisp of spiritual energy dissipated, the barrier was completely removed.

The array had concealed the ancient tomb for a thousand years. No matter how many tomb raiders or historians scoured the mountains in later generations, the illusion would cloud their eyes, making them mistake the tomb passage for ordinary rocks and wild grass.

Chen Siyao gripped her phone, keeping the camera steady on the entrance. Fear lurked in her voice, but she still chose to trust Chen Hao.

"I'll show everyone what it looks like inside. That'll prove we haven't faked anything."

Yang Wanqing clung tightly to Chen Siyao's arm, half hiding behind her as she craned her neck to peer into the passage. The pitch-black entrance resembled a giant beast lying in wait.

She recoiled at once in fright. "Chen Hao, could there be... ghosts in there? And traps and stuff? Ancient tombs are always terrifying in TV dramas."

Chen Hao brushed away the bits of grass drifting down at the entrance and said calmly, "It's fine. I'm here. I'll handle it."

To Chen Siyao and Yang Wanqing, that merely meant he understood feng shui and knew what he was doing. The two exchanged a glance, gritted their teeth, and followed Chen Hao into the passage.

Rather than the bone-chilling cold they had imagined, the passage held a dry, age-old scent of wood, stone, and metal. With the array removed, the thousand-year-old carvings on the walls became even clearer.

They were scrolling floral patterns and cloud motifs popular in the Tang dynasty. The chisel marks had an ancient quality no modern replica could reproduce.

The livestream camera faithfully captured everything, and the comments gradually shifted from mockery to startled disbelief.

[History graduate student]: Those carvings are genuine Tang-dynasty craftsmanship! I guarantee it. They're definitely not props!

[Adventure blogger]: Something's off. The depth and layout of this passage match the burial specifications for a Tang-dynasty general perfectly!

They had barely taken a few steps when the flat blue-stone slabs gave a soft click. Chen Siyao's foot slipped, almost plunging into empty space, while Yang Wanqing screamed and grabbed her tightly around the waist. "Aaaah! There's a trap!"

Reacting instantly, Chen Hao reached out to steady Chen Siyao. With his other hand, he flicked a tiny pebble straight into a concealed catch on the side of a slab.

The blue-stone slab three feet ahead suddenly sank, revealing a dense bed of sharp spikes below. They gleamed with a dull, black sheen, clearly coated in an ancient poison. Even after a thousand years, they still radiated a sinister chill.

"Watch your step. Follow my footprints." Chen Hao walked steadily, placing every foot in a spot where the mechanism would not trigger.

"This is the Hidden Spike Array. Step on the wrong slab, and all the spikes shoot out. It was designed to stop tomb robbers."

Chen Siyao's heart pounded with fear. She kept her eyes fixed on Chen Hao's footprints, not daring to stray a single step. Her voice trembled, but it was full of trust. "You're amazing, bro. Thank goodness you're here."

Yang Wanqing squeezed her eyes shut and clutched the hem of Chen Siyao's clothes, her voice on the verge of tears. "Chen Hao, I'll never make fun of tomb exploration again. This is way too scary..."

Chen Hao did not look back, but he slowed down so they could keep up safely. "Don't be afraid. They're just a few minor traps."

After they traveled several dozen meters farther, the passage abruptly narrowed. A dense barrage of iron arrows suddenly shot from the stone walls on both sides, their piercing whistles filling the air. Chen Siyao and Yang Wanqing dropped straight into crouches, covering their heads and not daring to move.

"Bro! Arrows! There are arrows!" Chen Siyao screamed in warning.

Without moving from his spot, Chen Hao gently waved a hand. An invisible force formed in front of the three of them. The incoming iron arrows struck it as though hitting an impenetrable wall, then all fell to the ground with sharp clatters.

"This is the Repeating Crossbow Array." He bent down and picked up an iron arrow. Its shaft was covered in rust, but it was still hard. "Standard Tang military crossbow design. The frontier troops back then were especially skilled with crossbows."

Chen Siyao held up her phone to film the iron arrows strewn across the floor, and the livestream chat exploded.

[Zhang Wei 652]: Holy crap! Real traps! Those aren't props!

[Vanke One]: Help! This is way too real! What kind of god is Chen Hao?!

In a luxuriously decorated villa somewhere in the capital, Chen Siyao's livestream was playing on an obviously expensive computer monitor in a gaming-themed room.

Ying Wenjie watched the stream. He knew this was definitely not scripted. He had visited Hengdian and seen artificial tomb sets; there was no way they could look this real without a single detectable flaw. He immediately began typing.

[I am Ying Zheng]: Everyone who was insulting them earlier, come out and apologize! If this were scripted, building the set would cost hundreds of millions!

Ying Wenjie recalled the footage of Chen Siyao meeting Chen Hao in the mountain cave. He had casually produced paintings and calligraphy worth tens of millions then, and now he had found Feng Changqing's tomb?

Could Yaoyao's brother be a celestial master who'd come down from the mountains? An invincible expert descending into the world? Returning after mastering his arts? And he could even trace dragon veins and pinpoint burial sites? His imagination ran wild.

After they passed the Repeating Crossbow Array, a stone door engraved with Tang-dynasty symbols appeared ahead. A massive stone hung above its lintel. The slightest touch to the door would send it crashing down, crushing anyone beneath it into pulp—this was the third layer of traps, the Dragon-Breaking Stone.

Yang Wanqing's legs went weak as she stared at the massive stone hanging precariously overhead. "Chen Hao, h-how do we open this door? If that stone falls, we're done for!"

Chen Siyao also tightened her grip on Chen Hao's sleeve. Worry filled her eyes, but she still did not back away. "Bro, can we go around?"

Chen Hao shook his head and placed his fingertips on a raised carving to the left of the stone door. It was an inconspicuous snow lotus motif.

He gently turned the carving. With a muffled rumble, the suspended Dragon-Breaking Stone slowly rose, and the stone door slid silently open to either side. At last, the burial chamber revealed itself to the three of them.

The burial chamber was not extravagant, but every part of it conveyed a military commander's solemn dignity. A stone coffin stood in the center, its sides carved with lifelike reliefs depicting Feng Changqing fighting on the battlefield.

Burial goods lay on either side of the stone coffin: a rust-covered suit of armor, a damaged straight saber, several rolls of bamboo slips and xuan paper sealed in brocade boxes, and a few Tang-dynasty inkstones and military tallies.

Most striking of all was the stone wall in front of the coffin, covered in neat Tang-dynasty small regular script. The strokes were bold and forceful, carrying a warrior's heroic spirit and regret.

Chen Siyao and Yang Wanqing stared, dumbfounded. They had long since forgotten their fear; only awe remained.

"Bro... is all of this real?" Chen Siyao's voice was so soft it seemed she feared disturbing the general's eternal rest.

Chen Hao walked slowly up to the stone coffin and gently brushed his fingertips over its reliefs. A thousand years of melancholy rose in his eyes as he began to speak, addressing both the camera and the two young women beside him.

Chen Hao nodded. When they had first met by chance all those years ago, Feng Changqing had still been a young man brimming with learning. The next time they met, he had become a frontier general. Their final meeting had been in this tomb.

"These bamboo slips and sheets of xuan paper contain poems he wrote during his lifetime. He always said people only knew him as a general, not as a lover of poetry and literature. In those war-torn years, he could only take up his blade to defend the country. Once peace came, he intended to give up warfare for literature and make his name through poetry."

Chen Siyao held up her phone, filming the poems on the stone wall, the burial armor, and the straight saber one by one for the livestream. Nearly ten million viewers had now flooded in, and the dense stream of comments was filled with shock and reverence.

Just then, clear footsteps and shouted voices came from outside the tomb passage. The experts from the Cultural Relics Bureau and the patrol officers had finally arrived.

The white-haired old professor leading them held a flashlight. The moment he stepped into the chamber and saw the relics filling it and the poems on the wall, he began trembling all over with excitement, barely able to speak.

"Th-this is... the tomb of a Tang-dynasty general! The armor, the straight saber, the military tallies—they're all genuine! And these poems! They fill a gap in the historical records of Feng Changqing!" The old professor seized Chen Hao's hand.

Gratitude filled his eyes. "Young man, we owe all of this to you! Thank you for reporting it so promptly and protecting the ancient tomb! You've done a great service to the nation!"