Chapter 40 – The Tomb's Secret Awakens
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A low rumble rolled through the underground chamber like the snarl of a long-slumbering beast.
Bai Xueqing narrowed her eyes as the phoenix-emblazoned gate began to shift. Ancient gears turned behind it, scraping like bones grinding against stone. Dust fell from the archway, veiling the air in shadows.
Mo Chen pulled her back instinctively as the seal lit with a faint, golden glow.
"He's activated the internal mechanism," she said grimly. "That seal only responds to blood of the direct Phoenix line."
Mo Chen's jaw tensed. "He's baiting you."
"I know." Her fingers twitched at her side, itching to draw her concealed dagger.
A voice—smooth, laced with faint amusement—slithered through the speaker again. "So you remember the blood rites, my Empress. Good. Then you'll also remember what happens when the wrong heir opens the wrong gate."
Without waiting, Xueqing pulled a needle from her sleeve and pricked her fingertip. Her blood sizzled as it touched the phoenix engraving.
The door slid open with a thunderous groan.
Inside was a corridor lined with mirrors—each reflecting not their faces, but distorted versions of themselves. Xueqing in chains. Mo Chen dying in battle. Xueqing, crowned in fire and fury.
"A psychological maze," she whispered. "This is where the Emperor tested loyalty."
"And where traitors were broken," Mo Chen added grimly.
They moved forward slowly, ignoring the illusions. The mirrors whispered false memories, seductive lies. One even showed Xueqing in Mo Chen's arms, but his eyes were filled with hatred.
She didn't flinch.
"You've changed," Mo Chen murmured beside her, impressed.
"So have you," she said, glancing at him. "You bleed less now."
"Better armor," he said with a faint grin.
The moment of levity broke when they reached the end of the corridor.
A vast chamber opened before them—circular, domed, its ceiling painted with constellations long erased from history. In the center sat a crystal sarcophagus, surrounded by seven silver pillars.
And chained to one of them—barely conscious—was a young man.
Qiao Lan's brother.
Xueqing's expression hardened. "So she was telling the truth."
A soft clapping echoed through the hall.
The gloved man stepped out from behind a pillar. No mask this time—just a veil of shadow that obscured his face.
"Impressive. Most fail before reaching this point."
Mo Chen raised his gun. "Unveil yourself."
"Why rush?" the man said. "We're just beginning. After all—"
He turned slightly, his eyes gleaming.
"Revenge is sweetest when slow roasted."
Then, with a flick of his fingers, the entire room shuddered—and the pillars began to collapse.
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