Chapter 50

The Lu family of Tianmu Mountain truly lived up to their reputation as a prestigious sect; the three of them walked boldly into Peach Source, while the Zhou clan could only stare at each other, unable to stop them.

But the Second Young Master Lu knew his time inside Peach Source was limited—the Zhou clan would surely find a way to block him again, perhaps even summoning the Qingyu Sect to intervene, so he urged Liu Xiaolou: “Hurry, where did you bury the chest?”

Liu Xiaolou frowned: “The Illusionary Form Technique...”

Zhang the steward pulled out a jade pendant, infused it with true qi, and a faint magical force enveloped the space within a zhang’s radius; the prickling sensation on his back vanished instantly.

“Fine artifact—what kind of treasure is this?” Liu Xiaolou stared at the jade pendant.

Zhang the steward snapped: “Don’t ask foolish questions—lead the way!”

Liu Xiaolou said nothing more, guiding them toward the valley between Wulei Mountain and Wangyue Mountain. As they passed beneath Wulei Mountain, they saw a massive black shadow standing atop the peak, turning slowly to scan the surroundings.

That shadow was at least three zhang tall!

Liu Xiaolou jumped back in alarm, ducking behind a tree and pointing at the shadow.

Zhang the steward whispered: “Qingyu Sect’s Divine Strike Technique—mountain spirit manifested. Stay alert... go that way...”

The three crept carefully around, advancing through a blind spot the mountain spirit couldn’t see, deep into the valley. After walking a long while, they reached a pile of scattered rocks at the heart of a dense forest.

If Star De Jun and Zhou Qi Niang truly hid among the Peach Source mountains, this was the only place Liu Xiaolou could think of.

If they weren’t here, then...

Liu Xiaolou glanced back at the Second Young Master Lu and Zhang the steward, who were scanning everywhere, then pointed at a stone beneath his feet.

“Buried here?”

The Second Young Master Lu rushed forward to move the stone, but Zhang the steward stopped him.

“Move the stone,” Zhang the steward ordered Liu Xiaolou, while dragging the Second Young Master Lu behind him and stepping back three paces diagonally.

Liu Xiaolou smiled and shook his head, lifted the stone, revealing a hidden pit below, and said: “Second Young Master Lu, you’ve come this far—still don’t trust me, Liu Xiaolou? That’s truly heartless. The chest is right below—shall I go down first?”

Zhang the steward hissed: “Keep your voice down!”

Liu Xiaolou hurriedly said: “Yes, yes, yes—don’t let the Zhou clan or Qingyu Sect hear. It’s all my fault. Shall I go down first?”

Zhang the steward and the Second Young Master Lu exchanged glances; the latter nodded. Zhang the steward drew his sword in a flash, the tip pressing against Liu Xiaolou’s throat: “Don’t move...”

Liu Xiaolou didn’t dare move—Zhang the steward’s speed had surpassed his reaction—but he spoke: “Below is an ancient tomb. Without me, you’ll never find the chest!”

Zhang the steward pulled a thin rope from his waist and handed it to the Second Young Master Lu, who came forward to help bind Liu Xiaolou tightly.

After securing him, he smiled: “It’s not that we distrust you, Young Master Liu—it’s just that hearts are hidden behind ribs. We’ve just met, so caution is necessary... what if there’s another exit below?”

Liu Xiaolou said: “Just seal my meridians—I won’t be able to move. Then you can go down with peace of mind.”

The Second Young Master Lu said: “Young Master Liu, rest assured—we mean no harm. We only ask you to lead the way. It’s dark below, and you said it’s an ancient tomb. We fear we might get separated in the corridors, so tying ourselves together with a rope is best.”

Liu Xiaolou sighed, his hands bound behind him. He glanced at Zhang the steward holding the other end of the rope and shook his head: “Zhang the steward, Second Young Master Lu—this truly breaks the heart...”

Saying this, he leapt down. Upon landing, he called up: “Come down.”

A torch was thrown down, illuminating the pit’s mouth. Zhang the steward jumped down, picked up the torch, and shook the rope’s end: “Let’s go.”

Liu Xiaolou asked: “Where’s the Second Young Master?”

Zhang the steward said: “He’s keeping watch above.”

Liu Xiaolou led ahead, Zhang the steward holding the torch in one hand and the rope in the other; their shadows twisted grotesquely against the tomb walls, eerie and terrifying.

The short corridor ended quickly, revealing a burial chamber. Zhang the steward scanned the room—nothing but the central coffin. His gaze locked onto it: “Is it inside?”

Liu Xiaolou didn’t answer. He stood silently beside him, staring at the coffin, lost in thought.

“Speak!” Zhang the steward barked. “Is it inside?”

Liu Xiaolou remained silent.

Zhang the steward’s heart lurched, yet an inexplicable heat surged within him. He took a deep breath, suppressing the sensation, and fixed his eyes on Liu Xiaolou: “Don’t play tricks—is the item in the coffin?”

Liu Xiaolou suddenly spoke: “Zhang the steward, after we split the loot, where do you plan to go?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m asking—does the Tianmen Mountain marketplace have brothels?”

“Of course.”

“Do those brothels have female cultivators?”

Zhang the steward’s heart lurched again. He growled: “Why bring this up?”

Liu Xiaolou said calmly: “Naturally, I wish to practice dual cultivation—with a female cultivator, entwined in passion, yin and yang intermingling...”

As Liu Xiaolou sighed, images flooded Zhang the steward’s mind; his abdomen grew hotter. Unconsciously, he murmured: “Tianmen Mountain marketplace doesn’t, but north of it lies Que Ling Manor—the mistress of the manor...”

Suddenly he froze, wondering why he’d said that.

He forcibly suppressed the heat and irritation, and asked again: “Hmph—is the chest in the coffin?” But he didn’t notice his own breaths had grown heavy.

Liu Xiaolou nodded: “It’s inside... Zhang the steward, I just realized—if this coffin were a soft bed, and you opened it to find a young female cultivator lying inside...”

“Stop!” Zhang the steward shook his head and strode forward, reaching to lift the coffin lid, his heart secretly hoping—if only she were...

Huh?

A rush of blood surged into Zhang the steward’s mind—he doubted his eyes. There truly was a beautiful woman lying inside!

He stiffened, half his body frozen.

Dazed, the woman gently raised her jade arm and softly caressed his face. Zhang the steward involuntarily pressed his cheek against it...

Her hand slid down just before his nose, pressing against his Shanzhong point. A surge of true qi flooded his meridians—he collapsed instantly.

Liu Xiaolou immediately ceased channeling true qi and ended the technique. This steward was tough—he’d used up far too much of his bewitching incense!

Zhou Qi Niang leapt from the coffin, shot Liu Xiaolou a glare, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Beneath her, Star De Jun also leapt out, said nothing, and dashed toward the tomb entrance.

The couple had hidden inside the coffin; their cultivation was higher, so they were less affected by the bewitching incense. But because they were pressed tightly together, their physical reactions were strong—luckily, those reactions weren’t entirely from the incense, so their awareness remained far clearer than Zhang the steward’s.

Soon, Star De Jun returned from the tomb entrance, dragging the Second Young Master Lu by the collar and tossing him beneath the coffin. He scolded Liu Xiaolou: “Why did you come?”