Before Feng could react, a muffled boom echoed through the passage.

  "Fuck!" Lao Wu's flashlight jerked. "Southeast corner collapsed!"

  Feng retreated as dust swirled, revealing a black void.

  Lao Wu's Luoyang shovel jutted from debris, hooked with fabric scraps.

  "Fed the beast its own kin!" Lao Wu spat blood-tinged phlegm. His tactical light exposed an ebony coffin—nine iron chains thicker than bowls, their bells corroded into verdigris lumps.

  Feng's lens focused on coffin engravings. The gluttonous taotie motif framed a thunder sigil—the "Corpse-Suppression Decree" from Annals page 74. But the ritual core was missing, replaced by a palm-sized indentation.

  "Boss（Courtesy Title） Wu, this coffin mustn’t be opened." Feng’s UV light swept over where the chains connected. "These are dual-soul interlocking mechanisms—specifically designed to thwart tomb raiders. If we..."

  "Bullshit!" Lao Wu's shovel struck wood. "Erzhu! Pry it!"

  As the henchman approached, chains clattered. Bell dust coalesced into a woman's silhouette in flashlight beams. Feng's shutter captured her shackled back.

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  "Freeze!" Feng gripped Erzhu's wrist. "Shadow-binding curse—touch chains, inherit her fetters!"

  The shadow turned—rotting flesh morphing into Erzhu's features.

  "Jesus!" Erzhu recoiled, crashing into broken idol fragments.

  Feng edged toward crevices, fingers finding lightning-struck wood stained with vermillion.

  Lao Wu grunted. His left hand choked his right wrist, combat knife clattering. Veins squirmed toward the coffin's indentation like earthworms.

  "Hexed!" Someone screamed. The crowd scattered, leaving Lao Wu wheeling before the coffin. UV light revealed birth characters in coffin dust:

  戊戌年亥时 (1898, 9-11 PM).

  Feng's pupils dilated—matching sacrificial records, yet Lao Wu couldn't be...

  "Catch!" Feng tossed the wood. Lao Wu grabbed it—veins retreating. Nail scratches echoed from within.

  Erzhu shrieked. Yellow ooze from the idol seeped toward them. Feng's boot sizzled on contact, reeking smoke rising.

  "Black hooves! Toss black hooves!" Panic erupted. But ritual packs were corroded—glutinous rice charred black.

  Feng's camera flashed rapidly. Under strobes, ooze desiccated. He slapped the Annals onto the coffin—yellowed pages covering the indentation.

  "Pry left three inches!"

  As Lao Wu's blade bit wood, wails filled the passage. UV light revealed seven stacked corpses—each heart pinned with coins.

  "Corpse-stacking..." Feng's throat moved. The camera captured the top female corpse opening milky eyes, lips splitting.

  "Down!!!"

  Lao Wu's detonator exploded. The blast flung the Annals open—Feng glimpsed page 155: "When sha awakens, suppress with Mountain-Calming Zun..."