Chapter 48

"Really? You actually cultivated an inner core?"

Zhao Zhu touched his chin, somewhat disbelieving. In the fantasy novels he usually read, it was always written that after monsters cultivated, they would form an inner core and become incredibly powerful. But that was just the imagination of literary works. In reality, how many so-called online authors had even killed a chicken? How could they know where to place the inner core?

But now, what rolled out from that stomach, if not an inner core, what else could it be?

Perhaps, it might really be because of this so-called cultivation that this thing could break free from the chains and survive for four hundred years in the underground pool of this ancient tomb, where not even a fish could live.

"This thing must be even more nourishing than the meat." Zhao Zhu picked up the inner core from the ground, held it in his hand, and could almost feel the rhythm emanating from it. The inner core didn't move, but it gave a sense of being alive. "If I eat it, will I get a nosebleed from over-nourishment?"

Zhao Zhu hesitated. He was well aware of his current physical condition. Even when he was in good health, he probably wouldn't dare to really eat this thing. Could his body handle it? It would be like a normal person eating ginseng as if it were dried radish; it would likely damage their health.

However, looking at the deep ancient tomb, Zhao Zhu weighed his options. Even if he couldn't handle the nourishment, he had to try, even if it was a last-ditch effort. Even if it were an aphrodisiac, as long as it could help him regain his energy and give him a chance to complete the damned main quest and obtain the essence of the dragon vein, he had to do it, he had to try!

Picking up the inner core, Zhao Zhu opened his mouth and bit into it. It wasn't hard, easy to bite, and tasted like an apple, quite refreshing. First one bite, then another, and several more. Zhao Zhu ate the so-called inner core like a fruit, finishing it all.

After eating, Zhao Zhu stood there with his eyes closed, feeling for any special changes. He had been somewhat hopeful, but now he felt a bit disappointed, thinking he had overthought it.

Zhao Zhu then cut off some of the monster's meat and ate it, finally feeling full. He wiped the blood off his military knife and re-entered the deep tomb chamber.

With the monster as a warning, Zhao Zhu moved more cautiously this time. Of course, his caution didn't mean much. Since the Qing Dynasty had put so much effort into building this ancient tomb, the traps were not something a psychiatrist like Zhao Zhu could easily spot. Otherwise, the trap masters of that era would have been truly incompetent.

About a hundred meters from the monster's corpse, Zhao Zhu stopped. In front of him were three passages. Without much hesitation, he chose the middle one. There was no reason; there was no time to think about reasons.

The further he went, the larger the passage became. Zhao Zhu noticed that the guards on both sides of the passage were different from the mummified guards he had encountered earlier in the tomb. These guards were only left with their armor. The bodies that should have been wearing the armor had long since turned to dust over the four hundred years, leaving the armor to collapse and form piles on the ground.

"This ancient tomb is really strange. Some areas are well-preserved, with bodies mummified and offerings still intact, while in other areas, the traps are rusted, and the bodies have turned to dust."

Zhao Zhu suddenly remembered his discovery in the previous mission world, "Zombie." Despite the setting being in the Republic of China era, there were modern-style cement mausoleums for deceased relatives.

This, he thought, must be a bug in the mission world. After all, it's a horror web novel world, and it can't be as logically consistent as the real world. Some minor flaws are understandable. Of course, if he could exploit these bugs for his benefit, that would be ideal, but Zhao Zhu knew he wasn't at that level yet.

Continuing deeper, Zhao Zhu noticed the floor tiles changing from black to green. On both sides of the green tiles, the guards were no longer just piles of armor. They were solid, with stern and resolute faces, wearing the armor of the Eight Banners, carrying steel swords, and with queues like the tails of rats.

"Their faces look a bit off." Zhao Zhu looked at the guards' faces and suddenly realized, "Their bodies were injected with mercury, which is why they haven't decayed over the years."

What reassured Zhao Zhu was that these mercury-injected guards showed no signs of reanimation. He passed through them safely until he reached the end of the passage, where a large hall-like area was visible. Blocking his path was a person sitting in a chair.

Of course, it was a dead person.

However, this dead person was different from the other guards. He wasn't wearing armor but a silk robe. Even sitting, his slender figure exuded a scholarly and elegant aura. This was a dead person who had been in the tomb for hundreds of years, yet he gave this impression!

But this person gave Zhao Zhu a very special feeling. He was staring with wide eyes, making Zhao Zhu feel as if he were being watched.

This feeling was intense, making Zhao Zhu very uneasy and nervous.

"Damn it, this thing is about to change!"

Zhao Zhu cursed in his mind. At this moment, he noticed a fan on the ground, which the corpse must have held. Over the years, even with the best preservation, the muscles would have changed, causing the fan to fall.

Opening the fan, Zhao Zhu saw a poem:

"Who laments the coolness of the west wind, alone? The rustling yellow leaves close the sparse windows, and I stand in the fading sun, lost in thought.

Do not be startled by the heavy spring sleep after drinking, the joy of gambling with books and the fragrance of tea, which seemed so ordinary at the time."

Zhao Zhu recognized this poem. He remembered that during his middle school days, when being a literary youth was popular, he had bought a book of Nalan Rongruo's poems and memorized some to show off. This was Nalan Rongruo's "Washing the Silk Gauze."

"Could the person in front of me be the first literary genius of the Qing Dynasty?"

Zhao Zhu felt his lips dry and licked them. Most importantly, if the person in front of him, who seemed about to reanimate, was indeed the historical Nalan Rongruo, it was truly unexpected. Historically, he died young. How could he be here?

But then Zhao Zhu thought about it and felt a bit relieved. Ancients liked to bring their favorite things into their tombs to accompany them in death. This ancient tomb, built on the Qing Dynasty's dragon vein, likely contained the remains of previous Qing emperors. Perhaps a later emperor, seeing Nalan Rongruo as a shining star during his reign and a great talent among the Manchus, decided to bring Nalan Rongruo into his tomb to boast about his achievements to his ancestors. If Zhao Zhu remembered correctly, Nalan Rongruo was a great talent during the Kangxi era. Could he be heading toward Kangxi's tomb? Could the essence of the dragon vein be there?

Just as Zhao Zhu's thoughts were racing, the corpse, which had been slouching in the chair, suddenly straightened up, its eyes cold and deep, staring at Zhao Zhu.

He was alive... or rather... he had reanimated.