Given the inference about the double-layer structure of this tomb chamber, I no longer find it strange that a door has appeared here. It must be that while we were talking, the room on this side also shifted up and down. Although I still don’t know the purpose behind the tomb owner’s design, I won’t panic again.

However, the coffin inside startled me greatly. This golden silk nanmu wood is top-quality material for coffins. For thousands of years, the size of coffins has depended on the size of the wood. This coffin is enormous, and it seems that the actual nanmu wood used for it is probably about the same thickness as the 32 giant pillars made of golden silk nanmu wood in the Ming Dynasty’s Changling. This thing might be worth more than a whole block of silver.

But how could such a precious coffin be placed in such an odd ear chamber? If such an expensive coffin can only be stored here, then at the very least, the main burial chamber must contain a golden coffin. I feel increasingly bewildered; the tomb’s owner has no sense of order, not only disrupting the feng shui of this place but also setting up extremely clever traps everywhere, yet without taking anyone’s life. I have no idea what he intends to do.

Those who dig tombs can’t help but feel a twitch in their hands upon seeing a coffin, especially one as magnificent as this. There must be plenty of good things inside. I noticed that the fat man was staring wide-eyed at it, and I joked, “What’s wrong? Are you going to risk your life just to see the coffin? Why not go in and fish out a few things first?”

I was mocking him, but he didn’t catch the sarcasm and said seriously, “You see, I’m very enlightened. Right now, our main task is to find tools to break through this damn tomb ceiling. Don’t get distracted. Once we get the tools, we can come back and fish out a few items later!”

Hearing him puffed up like that made me laugh. I said, “By the time you come back, who knows if this door will still be here? It might have shifted again.”

The fat man was still thinking about the burial objects, and upon hearing my words, he found it reasonable, which made him hesitate. At that moment, the silent oil bottle suddenly waved his hand at us and said softly, “Don’t talk.”

Seeing his serious expression, we quickly covered our mouths, not knowing what was happening. He pulled out a gas gun and whispered, “This is not an ordinary coffin; this is a corpse-rearing coffin.”

I didn’t understand at first and looked at him in confusion, but he didn’t want to explain further. He crouched down and walked into the ear chamber where the coffin was placed. The fat man, initially wanting to maintain his enlightened image, saw that the silent oil bottle was unceremoniously heading straight for the coffin, and immediately reverted to his usual self, hurriedly following him inside.

Seeing the passageway was pitch dark, I felt too terrified to stay outside alone, so I hurried in as well.

This chamber was identical to the one we had come from, with two giant pythons carved in relief on the treasure dome and a spring in the middle. However, there were no burial ceramics; only a massive coffin was placed three feet away from the wall.

The silent oil bottle drew out his military knife and directly inserted it into the seam of the coffin, slowly making cuts as if searching for some mechanism. The fat man thought he was about to open the coffin and shouted, “Slow down, slow down! You usually seem so honest, but why do you act like you’re ready to throw your life away just because you see a coffin?” As he spoke, he took out a candle and ran to the corner to light it.

Seeing this, I was furious and shouted, “Damn it, we only have this much air left, and you’re lighting a candle? Are you trying to get us all killed?”

The fat man said irritably, “How much air can a candle burn for you? At most, I’ll just breathe a few less breaths.” As he spoke, he flicked on his windproof lighter, and the flame illuminated a corner, suddenly revealing something that startled even the normally bold fat man, causing him to sit down on the ground in shock. Seeing him fall, I hurriedly turned on my flashlight, and I couldn’t help but flinch as well.

In that corner squatted a dry, withered dead cat, unusually large but already in a mummified state. Its hollow eye sockets stared directly at the fat man, most of its skin had fallen off, and its jaw was agape, revealing a row of sharp teeth that looked very unsettling.

Since childhood, I have been most afraid of dead cats. Back then, my family often caught wild cats stealing fish and would hang them from trees to let them rot. I was young and didn’t understand what it was, but one day while playing under a tree, the rotting neck of a cat corpse above broke, and the head fell right into my hands. The moment I saw those sharp teeth and hollow eye sockets, I was so scared that I wet my pants, and it took me days to recover my senses.

The fat man, seeing nothing more than a cat corpse, couldn’t help but curse and kicked it aside before lighting the candle. He then walked towards the coffin, and I felt something was off. There was a cat corpse in the tomb; didn’t he fear it would come back to life?

However, there were too many illogical things in this place. I had a vague feeling that the owner of this tomb was deliberately doing things contrary to the rules, placing what shouldn’t be there. If this continued, I couldn’t imagine what we would encounter in the main tomb.

At that moment, the quiet oil bottle had already found the exquisite eight-treasure lock on the coffin. He took out a box of treasures and used two hooks from inside to pry at the seam of the coffin. With a click, the mechanism was unlocked, and the entire coffin lid suddenly sprang open, releasing a surge of black water. The fat man, disregarding his disgust, pushed the coffin lid aside and looked inside, screaming in shock, “Damn it, so many zongzi!”