Chapter 36: The Coffin of the Demon Emperor

Bing Muer had, of course, noticed Bing Miaoguo’s arrival long ago. Remembering her mother’s death, and all that she had endured in the Southern Province City over the years, she clenched her fists in silence, her face cold and forbidding. This vengeance—she would take it, sooner or later. Just wait and see.

“I am Zuo Xiangyu, Young Lord of the Thousand Dragon Sect. Greetings, Little Princess.” Zuo Xiangyu, ever the smooth diplomat, arrived on his flying vessel, his handsome features adorned with a gentle, scholarly smile. “I did not expect that the Little Princess would have such a master of the zither at her side—truly admirable.”

“Hmph!” Bing Muer merely snorted in response, her frosty expression unchanged.

How could she ever feel kindly toward those who accompanied the Eldest Princess?

Zuo Xiangyu was unbothered, continuing to smile mildly, “This time, it was thanks to the zither master beside you, Little Princess, that everyone was able to enter the depths of the Hundred Thousand Mountains safely. Yet even after the death of the Demon Emperor, such a deadly trap could still be set. I suspect the interior of the Emperor’s Tomb will be far from safe. To enter it smoothly—as you wish, I’m afraid that’s impossible. Why not, then, join forces…”

At these words, Bing Miaoguo’s expression darkened. She barked coldly, “Zuo Xiangyu, what do you mean by that?”

It had already been humiliating enough to rely on the zither master by Bing Muer’s side to get this far; to suggest she should advance and retreat alongside Bing Muer—over her dead body!

A lowly wench, worthy to stand with her as an equal?

“Eldest Princess, please calm yourself. I’ll explain to you later,” Zuo Xiangyu replied with a light smile, then addressed Bing Muer: “Little Princess, what do you think?”

“Absolutely not,” Bing Muer rejected him flatly.

Zuo Xiangyu’s breath caught, then he shrugged it off with an easy smile. “If you are unwilling, then so be it. But may I ask, Little Princess, are you certain you can enter the Demon Emperor’s tomb and withdraw unscathed?”

Recalling that Chen Changsheng was in command of everything here, Bing Muer drew herself up proudly. “Of course.”

Everyone was stunned.

Where did this Little Princess get such confidence? She had only a zither master at her side. Once within the Emperor’s tomb, what help could a musician possibly provide?

Bing Miaoguo sneered in disdain. A contemptible servant—arrogant and deluded! She had no sense of her own limitations.

Suddenly she stepped in front of Bing Muer, extending a delicate hand with a cold command: “Hand over the Divine Frost Hairpin.”

“You?” Bing Muer’s face turned frigid.

“Eldest Princess, you go too far!” Hua Lao interjected sternly. “The Divine Frost Hairpin was bestowed upon the Little Princess by the Lord of the Province. How can you snatch it from her now? Aren’t you afraid of his wrath?”

“My father’s wrath? Ha!” Bing Miaoguo laughed as if she’d heard a joke. “Hua Lao, when we return to Southern Province City, by all means, report this to my father. Let’s see if he blames me!”

Hua Lao gritted his teeth. The Eldest Princess was so aggressive—it was clear the lord had completely abandoned the Little Princess. How ruthless!

“The Divine Frost Hairpin is my father’s sacred object. You are unworthy of it!” Bing Miaoguo reached for Bing Muer, the corners of her mouth curving in a victor’s faint smile.

Bing Muer froze. The word “father” struck her to the core. She stood there, trembling, her hands clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms until blood trickled through her fingers, unnoticed.

Then, suddenly, she let go, laughing coldly.

So be it. That wretched old man—he was never worthy to be called her father. She should have thrown away that damn hairpin long ago; carrying it was an insult to herself.

She pulled the Divine Frost Hairpin from her hair and tossed it to Bing Miaoguo. “Take it.”

“Little Princess!” Hua Lao cried in alarm.

“Hua Lao, say no more.” Bing Muer waved him off, unwilling to waste another word. Her father’s trinket—she had never cared for it.

Bing Miaoguo gripped the hairpin tightly, feeling its smooth, jade-like coolness—a comfort beyond compare. The Divine Frost Hairpin was the sacred relic of Southern Province City, crafted for those of the Divine Frost bloodline, greatly enhancing their cultivation and the power of their arts. With the hairpin in hand, Bing Muer’s training speed would soar, and the might of her techniques would be vastly increased.

Moreover, within Bing Muer’s body was the Heavenly Fire Curse—a force so deadly that only the Divine Frost Hairpin had kept her alive all these years.

Now, she had lost it.

She was as good as dead.

…

The air was thick with demonic energy, growing ever more dense. It was clear they were about to reach the heart of the Hundred Thousand Mountains. Eyes bright with anticipation, everyone pressed forward.

Nalan Ruoshui, gripping her golden sword, frowned. “The demonic aura here is more than twice as strong as before. The Demon Emperor’s tomb must truly be deep within the mountain’s heart. We can’t be far now.”

Suddenly, a voice sounded in her ear, “Nalan Ruoshui, we’re nearly at the center. Judging by the demonic aura alone, the Emperor’s tomb is no ordinary place. The Thousand Dragon Sect and your Holy Sword Sect are the two supreme sects of the Southern Domain. Of all these people, you’re the only one I trust. Why not, after we seize the treasures within, we kill everyone else and make a fortune? If they all die here, the world will simply assume they were slain by beasts.”

Nalan Ruoshui turned, catching Zuo Xiangyu’s distant gaze, his handsome face wearing a faint smile.

“Hmph!” she snapped coldly, saying nothing. Instead, she poured her energy into her legs.

Whoosh!

Her flying ship surged ahead.

“That wretched woman!” Zuo Xiangyu’s lips twitched in anger. He turned to Bing Miaoguo. “Eldest Princess, the tomb is just ahead. Let’s speed up so no one gets ahead of us.”

“Well said.” Bing Miaoguo agreed.

Everyone quickened their pace.

Suddenly, a bizarre landscape of jagged peaks and strange rocks appeared before them.

They had reached the heart of the Hundred Thousand Mountains.

No beasts roamed here, but the demonic miasma was thicker than ever.

In the midst of the peaks lay a stretch of ground as level as if cut by a legendary sword. At its center, a terrifying yin-yang diagram, hundreds of meters wide, rotated slowly. In the very heart of this diagram rested a stone coffin, its surface etched with ancient runes, exuding an aura of mystery and age.

The Demon Emperor’s Coffin!

It was true—the Demon Emperor’s tomb lay here, in the open, in the very heart of the mountains.

A great stone coffin lay in plain sight for all to see.

“The Yin-Yang Diagram…”

Huangfu Meng stared at it, her heart surging with shock.

She remembered the spinning top at Chen Changsheng’s residence, carved with the same yin-yang diagram—an exact match for the Demon Emperor’s tomb.

Heavens! The spinning top Young Master Chen possessed pointed straight to the tomb itself.

Truly, Young Master Chen had foreseen everything that would unfold here.