Uncle San was immediately drenched in cold sweat. How could this coffin be emitting smoke? Seeing the look on Jie Lianhuan’s face, he sensed something was wrong. Had that kid done something? He quickly pulled Jie Lianhuan away from the iron coffin and demanded to know what was going on.

Jie Lianhuan stuttered and made strange gestures, but he was obviously too nervous to articulate anything clearly. After a long pause, he finally managed to say two words: “I… I… fire… fire.”

Uncle San looked at his actions and noticed what he was holding— it was the lid of a fire stick. A fire stick ignites upon contact, so they are usually wrapped in reeds. In an instant, he understood what had happened. Jie Lianhuan must have been curious about the situation inside the coffin, lit a fire stick, and tossed it into the coffin hole, then pressed his eyes against the hole to look inside.

This technique, called “borrowing light through the wall,” was borrowed from northern practices and was commonly used by amateur tomb raiders, especially by novices when opening coffins. They had to be extremely cautious. Northern tomb raiders could even use this technique to take things from a coffin without entering the ancient tomb, which was quite impressive. However, this was considered a side trick in the profession of tomb raiding, with many limitations and significant risks, so experienced practitioners generally avoided it. Jie Lianhuan either figured this out himself or learned it from some half-baked source.

The greatest risk of “borrowing light through the wall” was that it could easily damage the funerary objects inside the coffin, especially in the case of a dry corpse. The decaying silk on the corpse could ignite at the slightest spark; once it caught fire, items like ancient texts or beads could be lost in an instant, leaving no time to extinguish the flames. Therefore, anyone attempting this had to be extremely careful, but Jie Lianhuan had used it without a second thought.

Uncle San cursed in frustration, thinking that it was a mistake not to keep an eye on the kid. He was very interested in this coffin; not only was there bound to be something valuable inside, but he also wanted to see the corpse. If the items inside the coffin were burned, it would be a tremendous loss and a source of ridicule.

With that thought, Uncle San pushed Jie Lianhuan aside and rushed to the coffin, bending down to blow forcefully into the coffin hole, hoping to extinguish the flames inside. To his dismay, as he blew, even more black smoke poured out of the coffin hole, nearly making him gag. He quickly turned away, fumbled for the water pouch at his waist, and poured it into the coffin hole.

Having been parched from the sea breeze during their journey, there wasn’t much water left in the pouch, and it was gone after just one pour. This little bit of water was utterly useless.

“Damn it,” Uncle San said anxiously, sweating profusely. He turned to Jie Lianhuan and noticed that his water pouch was still somewhat inflated. Seeing him standing there in a daze, Uncle San shouted angrily, “What are you standing there for? Give me the water pouch!”

“Water? Oh! The water pouch!” Jie Lianhuan finally reacted, hurriedly untying the pouch. Uncle San snatched it from him, opened it, and poured in half its contents. To his horror, the black smoke swirled but did not dissipate; instead, flames leaped out from the coffin hole.

Realizing something was wrong, Uncle San quickly took a whiff of the water pouch and cursed loudly—it was filled with liquor. Looking back at the coffin, he saw that the hole in the iron coffin had caught fire, and thick smoke was beginning to fill the entire tomb chamber.

At that moment, he was completely stunned and didn’t know what to do. The fire inside the iron coffin had grown quite large, and it was impossible to reach in to extinguish it. Moreover, if something went wrong, it could even cost him his life. Using water was ineffective, as even a small amount wouldn’t work, but if they ignored it, the coffin would be ruined. This kind of burning could crack even jade. The owner of the tomb would know at a glance that it was something extraordinary. If the items inside were burned—what if there were night pearls or something similar? He would be utterly frustrated!

(Actually, at that moment, they could have just plugged the hole in the coffin with something, but in their panic, Uncle San and the others didn’t think of that at all.)

Watching the fire grow larger and black smoke billow out of the coffin hole, he and Xie Lianhuan were both anxious and desperate.

Just when Uncle San felt hopeless, thinking that the oil barrel had turned into a charred barrel, suddenly, Xie Lianhuan made a shocking move. He jumped onto the coffin, half-knelt down, unbuckled his belt, and urinated into the coffin hole. In an instant, the smell of urine mixed with the stench of the corpse and the smoke, creating an extremely foul odor.

That was a completely frantic idea. His action was so unexpected that Uncle San didn’t have time to stop him, and by the time he reacted, it was already too late.

Uncle San was taken aback. Traditionally, while the Southern school of tomb raiding was known for its boldness and recklessness, and had a certain casualness about opening coffins, they were also very cautious due to the dangers involved. It was likely that Xie Lianhuan was the first to commit such a heinous act of pouring urine into a coffin. If Old Xie had been present, he would have surely been furious.

However, Xie Lianhuan’s act of urinating did have some effect; soon, the smoke inside diminished significantly. After finishing, Xie Lianhuan himself was stunned and sat down on the coffin.

Uncle San was in tears, looking at the iron coffin’s casting, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, feeling a chill down his spine, and sensing an ominous premonition.

The “whistle coffin” was a cursed object that could summon spirits; now it had been burned and then doused with urine. This time, things had escalated. Whether it was a zongzi or a living person, if you burned their mouth and then poured urine on them, they would surely fight back.

He was drenched in cold sweat, staring at the iron coffin, pondering what might happen next. Would something come out of that hole?

As the smoke continued to diminish, it became almost invisible, suggesting that the fire had indeed been extinguished. Both of them stared intently at the coffin until not a trace of smoke remained.

However, there was no movement coming from inside the coffin, as if what had just happened had never occurred.

Uncle San wiped the sweat from his forehead and let out a sigh of relief. He thought to himself that the Yellow King was protecting them; it seemed that Xie Lianhuan was quite lucky. Although the coffin was a whistle coffin, it was still a dead coffin.

A dead coffin meant that the zongzi inside had long since decomposed, leaving behind only some harmless rotten bones. Most coffins in ancient tombs were dead coffins; otherwise, no one would dare to engage in tomb raiding.

Dead coffins posed no danger. After the fire and the urine, if it weren’t a dead coffin, something would definitely have gone wrong. Given the lack of movement for so long, it should be safe to conclude that it was indeed a dead coffin.

After waiting for a while, nothing had changed, and only then did Uncle San finally lose his strength. He collapsed onto the ground, and when Jie Lianhuan saw him relax, he knew everything was fine and also sat down, starting to cry.

Uncle San shook his head with a bitter smile, thinking to himself that it was truly a sin to be down in the ground with someone like this; it had shortened his life by several years. He resolved never to do this again, and he was lucky there was no danger; otherwise, he might have really been harmed this time.

As he pondered this, Uncle San suddenly had a thought: since there was no danger, did that mean he didn’t have to wait until tomorrow? He could start feeling around today!

Going back and forth here would still involve some risk, especially since it was Wen Jin’s team, which made things inconvenient. Furthermore, with the position of the coffin’s hole, if he reached in, he could touch the forehead, the sides of the head, and the chest, which would definitely yield something. If he reached down to the feet, there were the soles, which was where the jade artifacts were placed, and there might be good things there, but not too many—he could take them all in one go. If he could retrieve something now, he wouldn’t have to come down tomorrow.

Although the hole was full of urine, tomb raiders had seen all sorts of disgusting things; besides, it was his own, and even if he had to reach in after defecating, he would still dare to do it.

On one hand, there was the unique greed of a tomb raider; on the other, there was the fear of this hole. Uncle San was torn between the two. But soon, greed won out; he wasn’t one to be overly timid in this line of work. He told himself to just take a gamble.

With that thought, he stood up, climbed onto the coffin, bowed to it, rolled up his sleeves, gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and first reached his hand into the coffin hole, feeling downwards.

However, as soon as his hand entered the coffin hole, the temperature inside rose, and Uncle San regretted it. The legendary Zhang Yancheng from back in the day wasn’t relying on luck; it depended on real skill with his fingers. Now, he was recklessly sticking his hand inside, which was truly a foolish thing to do.

He wanted to pull back, but when he looked back, he saw Jie Lianhuan staring at him in shock. At this point, he couldn’t back down, so he had to grit his teeth and continue feeling around.

Exploring the hole with one hand gave him an indescribable sensation; the deeper he reached, the faster his heart raced, and the more his fingers went numb. Although his face showed no expression, when his hand finally touched the corpse, his back was already soaked with sweat, and his fingers, extended inside, trembled without any strength.

This kind of experience is hard to imagine. Even as I listened, I felt a shiver run through me. Just finding an ordinary box and digging a hole for someone to stick their hand in would evoke a sense of inexplicable fear, let alone a coffin.

After Uncle San touched the corpse, he pressed a few times and discovered his fingers were sticky, which made his scalp tingle even more. By feel, it seemed to be the mouth of an ancient corpse. After a few touches, he sensed it was a dark, swollen body, oddly gaping its mouth, its posture seemingly identical to the bronze figure on the coffin. However, he couldn’t make out the details, and what made him feel extremely uneasy was that he touched a fire stick that had fallen into the ancient corpse’s mouth, and it was still warm.

He thought to himself that this was truly a sin, and then gritted his teeth as he probed further inside. First, he pushed the fire stick aside, then felt a hard, round object.

“Damn it, it’s the jade disc that suppresses the tongue,” Uncle Three thought to himself, feeling a sense of secret delight. He said, “Got it, this thing won’t burn!” He quickly pinched it and tried to pull it out of the hole.

However, as soon as he hooked it, Uncle Three felt something was off. The weight of the jade disc was astonishing; he could lift it halfway but couldn’t move it any further. When he exerted more force, he felt a slight tremor in the entire iron coffin, accompanied by a heavy, rusty metallic dragging sound coming from beneath his feet, like a “clatter, clatter, clatter.”

Uncle Three’s expression changed dramatically, realizing, “Oh no, it’s a mechanism!”