Zhongnan and Huashan Disciples' Standoff
The moment I witnessed the confrontation between the Zhongnanpa and Huashanpa disciples, it hit me. The sect leaders had been the milder, gentler sort by comparison.
Even foreigners wouldn't eye each other with that kind of suspicion. They kept a thorough safety distance, hands resting on sword hilts ready to draw at any second, glares so sharp they could have torn each other apart if looks could kill. It was the posture of mortal enemies from a hostile nation, and I couldn't help but sigh.
The verbal sparring between the two sect leaders, with the prefectural governor caught in the middle, had been downright civilized by comparison. At least those two acknowledged each other enough to sit close.
I'm gonna lose my mind. A hollow laugh escaped me. The sect leaders were old enough to retire any day now, so the future of Zhongnanpa and Huashanpa lay with these disciples. That meant relations between the sects would only grow fiercer and more vicious.
For an instant, the world went dark before my eyes. If I were older myself, maybe it wouldn't bother me so much, but those disciples looked about my age. If they clashed, I'd be the one grinding away at mediation for the rest of my life.
That's why the old dynasties kept their hands off murim affairs. It wasn't just about maintaining public order—they declared non-interference to avoid meddling in martial world disputes. No hard evidence, but it had to be true. Even just Shaanxi Province was a headache; how did they manage the entire Central Plains? Easiest to let them sort it out among themselves. Of course, if they crossed certain lines, the government stepped in, but even that would have slashed official workloads exponentially.
"Wi-cheo."
"Yes, sir."
"Tell them to send one representative each."
At my order, Jo Wi-cheo rode Kki-ong-i toward the midpoint between Zhongnanpa and Huashanpa. No prefectural governor or sect leaders here. At this excavation site, I was the top authority. If they fought in front of me, I'd smash them flat. Fight all they wanted after the job was done, but if I caught them bickering on my watch, I'd boot them both out. That's the warning I'd deliver, crystal clear.
"Gu Yeong, elder of Zhongnanpa."
"Dang Ji-gyeong of Huashanpa."
The two Taoists who approached with Jo Wi-cheo offered polite clasped-hand salutes.
Elders, huh. Solid choices. If they'd sent some ambiguous senior disciples or first-generation students, they might not have full control over the hot-headed juniors. But with elders in charge, no disciple would dare rebel. You can squabble with your brother, but not your father or uncle—that's human nature.
"Left Vice Inspector General Han Un. It's an honor to meet you both, courtesy of heaven's gracious ties."
I returned their greetings with genuine pleasure. To ensure smooth excavations, they needed a firm warning to rein in their underlings—but no need for heavy-handed threats. A smiling request in a friendly atmosphere could serve as warning enough.
"Haha, the honor is ours. Even a recluse like me, holed up on Zhongnan Mountain, has heard of Your Excellency's renowned reputation."
"We're simply delighted to assist Your Excellency, even if briefly."
They smiled and bowed at my friendly response. This boded well for easy conversation.
A joint excavation by the government, Zhongnanpa, and Huashanpa. A massive undertaking unlikely in Shaanxi for the next decade, with top-tier manpower mobilized. The government sent ten peak experts, thirty first-rate, and five mechanism specialists skilled in institutions and formations. Plus two hundred laborers on standby outside—secure the tomb, and we'd haul out the grave goods in no time.
Zhongnanpa and Huashanpa each dispatched an elder at peak, five first-rate, and fifteen second-rate, as if by prior agreement. The sect leaders must have compromised to avoid a manpower contest.
Is this even a tomb? Two hundred laborers waiting outside, dozens of warriors excluding sentries—they poured into the tomb en masse. Bizarre. Even large buildings rarely admitted so many at once. A mere tomb swallowing this crowd? Unthinkable.
How the hell did they build it? A king's or emperor's mausoleum might justify the scale, but this was one general's tomb—a general who'd committed suicide on royal orders. No way it made sense.
Maybe Qin Shi Huang built it to honor a hero of his realm? The records burned in wartime, leaving us clueless.
Nah, unlikely. Half-joking speculation, unfit even for jest. Qin Shi Huang, too busy with his own tomb, lavishing one on someone else? He'd sooner demolish existing ones for being "too damn big."
"It's already broken."
Plus, a Qin tomb wouldn't have such shoddy mechanisms midway through.
"Disarm it fully anyway. Civilians will enter soon—better safe."
"Yes, sir. On it."
I calmly ordered disarmament at the mechanism specialist's report from inspecting the wall. A broken trap was more dangerous. Random triggers meant tetanus enchantments galore from long neglect.
Definitely a civilian-built behemoth, all size no substance. Vast but simplistic. Most mechanisms ruined by time. It screamed "symbolic effort" over substance. Untouched only because the entrance hid underground—surface-level, and they'd have stripped the bricks.
Any real grave goods here? Worry crept in. Baek Gi's fame and scale suggested riches, like a mansion implying fine furnishings. But all-in on the house, empty inside? Divvying rusting spears and arrows per our 6-2-2 split would be pathetic.
- Kki-ing?
- Kki-oooong.
Suddenly, Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i walking beside me tilted their heads and surged ahead.
"Hey, where you going!"
The abrupt acceleration had me chasing. We'd cleared every mechanism so far, but one ahead could turn Baek Gi's tomb into a spirit beast graveyard in seconds. After bonding on the way here, I couldn't let them go like that.
- Thud.
Thud-thud.
But despite my fears, Kki-ing-i just prodded the wall with its antler. Chills ran down my spine. What if it triggered a hidden one? What did the builders hide beyo—
...?
What did they hide? Watching Kki-ing-i tap the wall, Kki-ong-i circling, memories of Akwangjeo flooded back. Qi leaking from Ak Manor’s dantian. Noxious weeds turned delicacies to spirit beasts, sniffed out and devoured by Kki-ing-i.
And now these two fixated on the wall?
"Specialist. Check this spot."
One hurried over at my call, inspecting Kki-ing-i's tapping point. Something was there, alright. Qi-sensitive spirit beasts acting out meant elixirs or equivalent energy nearby.
"Ah."
"What is it?"
Anticipation swelled at the specialist's reaction.
"Another passage beyond. Mechanisms aplenty—this must be the real deal."
"Everyone, assemble!"
I rallied the scattered warriors as he finished. Hidden passage, dense mechanisms.
Jackpot. No one built secret paths for fun. Through here lay what we sought.
Good job. I stroked Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i's heads fondly. Without them, we'd have missed it forever—or taken ages.
If we struck elixirs, I'd feed a couple to them.
The instant we breached the wall: certainty. This was it. The real tomb.
"Heads down! No—get flat on the ground!"
"What trap triggers before we even touch it!"
Exterior ones were 90% busted; these had near-100% uptime. Horrific. Step, and it triggered. Idle, and it moved. Scatter, activated. Cluster, chaos. Breaching the wall might've been the trigger itself.
"Can you disarm?"
"Need to get close first, but they're firing everywhere—can't approach."
Prone on the floor, the specialists' grim reply was expected. Disarm before activation, not amid a barrage.
"Fortunately, these pack power but burn short. Simplified paths for projectiles too... just endure and—"
"Boulders rolling in!"
"No enduring that."
"Damn it."
Tears welled. Minutes ago, I'd fretted an empty shell— all effort on size, skimpy contents. Wrong. The builders had unleashed madness to thwart and slaughter tomb robbers.
Sons of bitches. Technically we were the tomb-raiding dogs, but history's rule: tombs get looted. We weren't greedy thieves—noble archaeologists securing heritage. Their overkill was the real fault.
Anyway.
"Wi-cheo!"
I called as the boulder neared, eyes locked. Smash that first, then think.