Chapter 74: Borrowing a Corpse to Return the Soul

Suppressing my shock and suspicion, I walked over to the corpse. At first, I thought he’d been killed by the gunfire, but I soon realized there wasn’t a trace of blood on him—not even a single wound. The body lying in the middle of the passage, however, was unmistakably riddled with bullet holes from our barrage.

“He died from fright,” the man in the black sunglasses suddenly declared.

His abrupt statement startled me. He pointed to the corpse’s eyes and continued, “Look at his eyes and expression. From this face and condition, he must have been scared to death.”

Scared to death? His words left me astonished. Looking closely, the man’s face indeed seemed frozen in terror, his eyes wide open, complexion deathly pale, lips parted slightly. Could someone truly be frightened to death? Especially one of these professional tomb robbers, whose nerves must be made of steel. For someone like that to die of fright, what horror could he possibly have encountered? Was it that white shadow? But they had their backs turned...

My mind reeled with shock as the man in black sunglasses moved closer to the body, reaching out to examine it further. He nodded. “He really did die of fright. The muscles all over his body are tense. I’ve seen this before—a person scared to death looks just like this. It’s bizarre.”

He seemed unable to believe it himself and checked again. We both fell silent for a moment, pondering where Liuzi might have gone. We searched and thought for a long while but couldn’t make sense of it. There was simply no way out of here—how could a living person just vanish? With all these strange occurrences, my heart began to pound uncontrollably.

Soon, I heard a rustling sound behind us. The corpse beetles were coming. They’d caught up. Without hesitation, the man in black sunglasses and I hurried forward, pushing thoughts of the white figure and the other bizarre happenings to the back of my mind. Nothing mattered now—if we were bitten to death by those beetles, I’d rather have died of fright; at least that way, my body would remain intact.

But before we could go far, the ground suddenly gave way. We fell hard, plunging into darkness. I fumbled for my flashlight—thankfully, it still worked after the fall. I picked it up and saw that we had landed in a burial chamber. Unlike the ones we’d seen before, this tomb was built in the style of the ancient Central Plains.

Why would such a distinctly different tomb be here? I wondered. The man in black sunglasses clapped me on the shoulder and said, “This is probably a companion tomb for that ancient king of the tall building. Judging by the style, it might have belonged to one of his consorts—a consort from the Central Plains.”

It made sense. I’d read many documents and my father’s notes, and in many tombs, there were burial chambers in styles different from the main tombs. Ancient nobles, especially kings, often married women from other tribes, and the burial chambers would reflect the customs of their homeland. So finding a Central Plains-style companion tomb here was not surprising.

In the center of the chamber stood a black stone coffin. The burial goods around it were few and simple—just a handful of items, nothing luxurious. Judging from this, the consort buried here must not have been favored in life; otherwise, her burial would not have been so plain.

This tomb didn’t seem sealed off; there was a passageway leading into darkness. When we approached the stone coffin, we found its lid had been pushed open. Instinctively, I took a few steps back. This time, I didn’t reach for my gun but quickly drew my black-gold dagger, holding it in front of my chest. I couldn’t help it—my nerves had been stretched to the limit lately, and I reacted to any hint of danger.

The man in black sunglasses told me not to be nervous, so we both edged closer. Only then did we see that nothing had suddenly leapt out at us. But when I shone my flashlight inside, my heart nearly leapt into my throat. There, lying in the coffin, was Liuzi—yes, Liuzi himself—lying perfectly still, face as pale as death, utterly motionless, not the faintest sign of breath, his eyes closed as if merely sleeping.

How had he died here? When had he climbed in? Why did he lie down, and how did he die? All of it filled me with a nameless dread.

Then another thought struck me: Liuzi was here, but what about the original owner of the tomb? There was only Liuzi, dressed in expedition gear. He was definitely dead. Looking closely, I saw not a single wound on his body. It was as if he had died for no reason at all—or worse, as if this coffin had always been meant for him.

I noticed the man in black sunglasses staring intently at the coffin. I couldn’t see his expression, but I guessed it was as complex, shocked, and confused as my own. After all, everything happening here was far too strange.

A nameless fear spread through me. I gripped my black-gold dagger tightly. Suddenly, the man in black sunglasses said, “He’s been ensnared—lured here. Have you ever heard of ‘borrowing a corpse to return a soul’?”

Borrowing a corpse to return a soul? I’d heard the legend—it was said that someone fated to die could be revived by taking over another body. Could it be that Liuzi had been used for this purpose? But by whom—was it the original occupant of the tomb? The thought of that white figure returned to me, and the string of events sent chills racing over my skin, cold sweat breaking out all over.

To be honest, I couldn’t accept such a possibility or phenomenon. I’d always been a skeptic, never believing in ghosts. Yet everything unfolding before me was shaking my certainty.

I checked again: the only person in the coffin was Liuzi. No one else. Where, then, had the original tomb owner gone? I was still pondering when the man in black sunglasses suddenly said, “There may be something unclean here. Do you have anything to ward off evil on you?”