In the past, Mount Taicang had swings installed everywhere, both for fun and for training. Back when Xie Lian had only just started to retain memories, he once accompanied his parents to visit the Royal Holy Temple to pray for blessings. He saw a group of young trainees sparring, flipping and flopping all over the swings. It was an exciting performance; the king and queen enjoyed it, and Xie Lian clapped and shouted his appreciation. The king and queen were so pleased that they richly rewarded the young trainees, and ever since then the impression was left deep in Xie Lian’s heart that cultivation was something awesome and fun.
Though when he formally entered the sect for cultivation in his later years, the reason was no longer because it seemed fun.
After some rest, Xie Lian continued hiking. The higher he climbed, the thicker the bushes became, and every so often a critter would dart by, leaving behind a shadow of a bushy tail. There were a few squirrels huddling in the trees, munching on pinecones, peeking at this uninvited guest.
Thorns blocked his path, tearing at his clothes and limbs, but Xie Lian didn’t mind at all. Six hours later, at last he reached the peak of the Crown Prince Summit.
Of course, the Crown Prince Summit wasn’t originally called the Crown Prince Summit, but the name was changed after the Crown Prince Temple was constructed. Amidst the bushes and weeds, there were still remnants of pebble-paved grounds here and there; these were hidden traces of the large, burned foundation of the temple’s great hall. Going across it, through the rubble and ruins, past tinted glass tiles, he reached a chipped old well.
Looking from above into its bottom, it was easy to tell the old well had long dried up; the distance to the bottom was only a little over a meter, and all that was visible was sludge. Without hesitation, Xie Lian pulled his legs over the side and jumped in.
He didn’t tumble into sludge but instead traversed through that illusion and descended for over a dozen meters before his feet touched solid ground.
The surroundings were so dark that if he were to raise his hand, his fingers wouldn’t be visible. He looked up; there was no sunlight either, as if a heavy piece of fabric had blocked it out. Xie Lian felt around the bottom of the well, feeling several bricks, and pressed them in a certain order. With a rumbling noise, a small, short door opened on the side. Xie Lian dropped down on all fours and slowly crawled through the path past the small door. The moment he entered, he could hear another rumbling noise behind, sealing off the opening.
After half an incense time, he had finally crawled to the end of the tunnel. Xie Lian straightened up, snapped his fingers, and held up a small flickering flame.
After that small ball of flame was ignited, as if in response, not far in the distance another faint light started to glow like a pearl as it woke from its deep slumber and blinked open its bright eyes.
Soon after, more and more pearls glowed, connecting throughout and illuminating the surroundings. It became clearer and clearer that it was the spacious great hall of an underground palace. Above the great hall, there were embedded thousands of sparkling stars.
It was hard to imagine that the Imperial Mausoleum of the ancient Kingdom of Xianle was hidden beneath the scorched earth of Mount Taicang. Those brilliant stars were night pearls11 and diamonds embedded in the ceiling; the night pearls glowed when they came in contact with light, and the diamonds reflected their radiance. When they crossed paths, the result was a bedazzling brilliance, like a dream. It was like a minuscule Milky Way hidden below ground.
Each night pearl and diamond was priceless; each jewel was worth an entire lifetime of riches. However, Xie Lian didn’t spare them a glance, just walked directly through the great hall, entering the crypt at the very back.
In comparison to the great hall, this tomb was exceedingly simple, as the chamber wasn’t fully completed. There was no resplendent decor, only two coffins. Between the coffins stood a person dressed in extravagant clothing. There was a golden mask on its face, and a sword extended, the blade sharp and dazzling, pointed at him.
However, this person remained frozen in that stance and didn’t make any movement. Xie Lian idly approached without a single care. This was because Xie Lian knew that behind the golden mask there was no face, and under the exquisite dress there was no person. The only thing standing there was an empty stack of dried hay, held together by bundles of sticks.
For so long, only this set of elegant dress robes and this mask had stood by the sides of those two solitary coffins in his stead. On top of each coffin was a small golden plate, but the things in those plates contrasted their elegance: fruits of some sort, dried and shriveled to the core, and some unknown hard blocks that were rotten and blackened. After Xie Lian entered the chamber, he cleared out those things and tossed them into a corner of the crypt. He felt around his sleeves and clothing folds. Originally, he’d had a half-eaten bun on him, but that bun was given to Hua Cheng, so now he had nothing.