Chapter 29

Guibugui spread out his hands and said with a smile, "Who knows? Who knows what that old guy is thinking? We’ll just have to see how it goes..." As he said this, there was a hint of cunning in his eyes.

If Wu Mian had any strength left, he would have slapped Guibugui long ago. The old man clearly knew but was deliberately holding back. He was taking advantage of the fact that Wu Mian was now powerless and planned to mock him.

Wu Mian, who now only had the strength to speak, temporarily held his breath. After circling around, he found no other exit. He exchanged a glance with the smiling Guibugui and said, "How do we get to the next altar? Do we have to go back to the surface and find another entrance to the other altars?"

"That’s not necessary," Guibugui followed Wu Mian’s gaze and circled the altar, then continued, "The altars are all connected. As long as we find the right exit, we can reach a series of altars in one go." After saying this, the old man walked to the end of the altar. He measured the wall with his hands and muttered something, as if reciting a spell. Unfortunately, his voice was too low, and Wu Mian, who was still dizzy from exhaustion, couldn’t hear what the old man was saying.

After about a quarter of an hour, Guibugui seemed to have found the right spot on the wall. After feeling around for a while, he suddenly shouted, "I knew he couldn’t change his bad habits!" After shouting, the old man turned to look at Wu Mian, baring his teeth in a grin, and said, "Only I could find this mechanism. Take a look."

As he finished speaking, Guibugui’s finger pressed into the wall. With a "creak," the wall slowly lifted, revealing a grand underground altar. From Wu Mian’s position behind him, he couldn’t even see the full extent of the altar. This scene was not only surprising to Wu Mian but even Guibugui was stunned. He muttered, "It’s just a national altar, right? Why go to such lengths? It must be because he unified the country and is so generous with his own money."

Wu Mian walked to Guibugui’s side and peered inside. Above was a huge circular jade disk, dotted with luminous pearls that created the image of the moon and stars in the night sky. Below the starry sky was an altar of exaggerated size.

Although it was called an altar, its scale was more like an underground palace. It was divided into two areas on the left and right. The area closest to Wu Mian and Guibugui was where the actual sacrifices to heaven took place. Inside were the remains of slaves and captives, carefully arranged in rows. Upon closer inspection, these remains included men, women, the elderly, and the young, numbering at least three to five thousand. They were all neatly arranged, even in the same posture, kneeling towards the altar.

Wu Mian, being a fangshi, understood the method. These people were killed, their bones broken, and their bodies forced into this posture. However, the executioners didn’t fare much better; the mummies they saw earlier in the dry well included them.

In front of these remains stood hundreds of bronze lamp stands. On either side of these lamps were various bronze-cast mythical creatures and birds. As Wu Mian and Guibugui observed, the lamps began to light up one by one. The oil in the lamps emitted a greenish glow, making the grand altar even more eerie.

Wu Mian, Guibugui, and the steward lying outside the passage all had night vision and could see clearly in the dark. However, they were now somewhat unaccustomed to the greenish glow. Looking at the long row of greenish lights, Guibugui’s face was full of disdain, and he said, "Knowing no one would come here again, he still set up so many heavenly lamps. Even with magic tricks, does phosphorus powder not cost money? He didn’t spend this much when building the tombs for the previous fangshi. It’s not his own money, so he’s generous."

"You’re in here now, aren’t you?" Wu Mian coldly retorted, then gave the old man a smile uglier than a cry, and continued, "You knew that breaking any of the six altars would lead directly here. You were just scaring me, right? I’ll remember this, and we’ll settle it later."

Without waiting for Guibugui’s explanation, Wu Mian walked towards the main altar. But he was stopped by the old man, who said, "It’s not a matter of a few moments. It looks like the old man’s style, but who knows if Guangren has done something to it? Let’s wait until the situation is clear before going in."

Wu Mian had thought about what Guibugui said, but looking at the situation, although the remains were of various people, the souls had long since vanished, and there was no unusual corpse or evil aura. It didn’t seem like anything would happen.

Wu Mian didn’t have the strength to break free from Guibugui and could only hold his breath, glancing at the old man and saying, "How much clearer can it get? Should we make the dead bodies talk?"

"That’s not necessary. Some people speak more clearly than the dead," he said, making a face and shouting, "Are you done pretending to be dead? If you’re done, get up. We need a little help here."

After Guibugui spoke, the passage began to echo with groans, and the steward, dragging his injured leg, walked in. Despite his injury, he moved quickly. The steward didn’t say a word, just lowered his head and walked straight to the main altar.

This action made Guibugui pause. When the steward reached him, preparing to go out, Guibugui stopped him and said, "What are you doing? Are you so addicted to pretending to be dead that you want to really die?"

The steward sighed and said, "I’m used to it. You were planning to send me in first anyway. I might as well take the initiative and show a good attitude."

Guibugui laughed and released the steward’s hand, saying, "That’s a good attitude. Don’t worry, with me here, nothing serious will happen."

The steward’s heart sank. He thought, "You said the same thing outside..."

The steward, now determined, didn’t even prepare any incense and walked straight in. This was his last big gamble. If he won, he might achieve immortality; if he lost, he would see them in the next life. The steward didn’t expect Wu Mian and Guibugui to save his life, but at least they could preserve his soul, which should not be too difficult for them.

As the steward, dragging his injured leg, slowly approached the altar, Wu Mian felt a rare pang of sympathy. Should he give him a pill? After all, with the steward’s constitution, he would die soon after taking it. This would fulfill the steward’s wish and also avenge Wu Mian. Was this a win-win situation?

Watching the steward’s back, Wu Mian suddenly produced a white wax pill in his hand, playing with it. Guibugui, noticing this detail, recognized the pill, which he had guarded for over a hundred years. He chuckled and said, "Are you really going to make a big move? You don’t have many of these pills left. Giving one away means one less. Think carefully about who will benefit from this."