Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1121: The Ancestors’ Coffin Lid Can’t Hold Down Anymore

This place was already deserted. The surroundings were silent, and thick mist lingered in the air. You could still vaguely see the chaos left behind when people fled in a hurry.

For the faint of heart, venturing into a place like this would be a nerve-wracking ordeal—of course, that only applied to ordinary people.

Clearly, those walking through it now were not ordinary—Gongsun Wuwei, and… Gong Fanxing.

“Thankfully, not much around here has changed,” Gongsun Wuwei looked around and sighed, “Hard to believe it's been five hundred years in a blink. I remember there used to be a big tree here.”

Gong Fanxing rolled her eyes. “This isn’t the time for nostalgia... The presence of His Majesty is faint and unstable—why has it weakened so much over the centuries?”

“We’re here.” Gongsun Wuwei suddenly stopped and looked ahead with a frown.

Amid the thick mist stood an ancient mansion. The plaque above its entrance bore the words 【宋府】—The Song Family Ancestral Mansion.

The two broke in directly, heading straight to the mansion’s neglected backyard, where they stopped before an old well.

Before descending, Gongsun Wuwei frowned. “Looks like someone was living here not long ago.”

“The house has been renovated,” Gong Fanxing added quickly. “Maybe His Majesty’s descendants returned… but judging from the mist, they must have fled.”Gongsun Wuwei nodded and jumped into the well, with Gong Fanxing following. They soon landed at the bottom.

They activated a mechanism that lit the well and began walking through it with practiced familiarity. As they moved through the vast structure beneath the well, their expressions grew solemn.

They had found traces of recent activity—someone had been here. If someone from the Song family had wandered the mansion, that could still be explained. But activity down here? That was far more unusual.

And more strange—this activity had occurred at the same time as someone appeared above. Could the descendants of the Song family have discovered this place? It didn’t seem like it—the deepest part of the underground structure showed no signs of intrusion.

“What’s going on? The ley line spiritual energy here has weakened so much?” Gong Fanxing finally sensed something amiss.

They had arrived at the deepest, most crucial chamber—a stone coffin sat in the middle of the room.

“It must’ve been cut off years ago.” Gongsun Wuwei frowned. “No wonder His Majesty’s presence is so faint…”

He took a deep breath, solemnly walked to the coffin, and lifted the lid.

Inside was a man in yellow robes, face withered like a corpse. As the lid opened, a rush of intense death aura surged outward.

Though both Gongsun Wuwei and Gong Fanxing were once peerless figures in their time, and their cultivation was profound, the death aura didn’t affect them much.

“His Majesty’s soul is critically weak… nearly dried up!” Gong Fanxing said, alarmed. “Wuwei, we must each lend him soul power now—if not, even his last trace of will may vanish.”

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Gongsun Wuwei immediately took the yellow-robed man’s hand and began transferring soul power through palm-to-palm contact.

Humans have three souls and seven spirits. Losing even one can result in amnesia or coma. Using one’s own soul power is a serious risk.

Gong Fanxing also pressed her palm against his, and soon thin wisps of white vapor drifted from both their foreheads.

Time passed.

They sweated heavily, faces pale, clearly drained. After half a day, they were exhausted and had to stop.

The man in the coffin, however, looked younger, his face gaining color. He slowly opened his eyes.

Seeing him awaken, both knelt at the foot of the coffin and bowed. “We greet His Majesty on his awakening!”

Though their voices were quiet, the yellow-robed man heard clearly. He looked dazed, eyes unfocused.

He looked down at what he held—a jade ruyi. After a long silence, he finally croaked out, “How long… have I slept?”

Gongsun Wuwei and Gong Fanxing exchanged a glance. Gongsun Wuwei quickly said, “Your Majesty, since Fanxing and I entered Penglai, five hundred years have passed in the outside world. The imperial dynasties are gone. Now, there is something called a ‘government’.”

“Five hundred years?” The yellow-robed man frowned—it wasn’t what he expected. He seemed to recall something. “I remember… someone came… said something like that to me…”

“Your Majesty, before we entered your resting place, we found signs of activity in the mansion above. Likely your descendants returned.”

He nodded and looked at the memorial tablet ahead in the chamber, which read【宋长庚】(Song Chang Geng). “Indeed, my dynasty was once protected by one of the Twelve Dragon Veins of Divine Land. A thousand years of imperial blood, never severed.”

“Your Majesty, when we left back then, the grand array here still functioned. The ley lines at Mount Tai should’ve continually nourished your soul. Why has your soul become so feeble? If we hadn’t arrived in time…”

“I don’t know,” the man shook his head. “Suddenly, the spiritual energy was cut off. I could only enter deep sleep to slow my soul’s decline. Whoever did it merely cut off the energy—like they wanted me to die on my own. But why did you two take five hundred years to return?”

“You’re unaware, Your Majesty!” Gongsun Wuwei quickly said. “After receiving your key, Fanxing and I entered Penglai. Unexpectedly, a sword cultivator named Taibai—known as the Green Lotus Sword Immortal—followed us. Though only Enlightened Dao Realm, he had the power of Dao Fruit Realm.”

“He entered Penglai with us, but the realm had changed. Fanxing and I were trapped inside for years before escaping. But… time flows differently inside Penglai!”

The man in yellow quietly listened, judging the truth of their words. After a while, he asked, “Where is this Taibai now?”

“He vanished after wreaking havoc in Penglai. His life or death is unknown,” Gong Fanxing answered, briefly recounting what followed.

“Back then, I had no choice but to endure here. I gave you two the ancient Penglai key to find a way for my rebirth from the immortals there.” The man sighed. “Seems like reversing life and death truly is near impossible… is this fate?”

He began coughing painfully. His body, long devoid of vitality, was just a husk. Only his soul kept it intact.

“Your Majesty!” The two hurried forward.

He waved them off. “There’s no time to find another place to restore my soul. Now… only my descendants can fulfill their duty.”

“I require… the fresh flesh and blood of the Zhao bloodline.”

“But outside, now affected by the ‘Four Seasons Glazed Scroll,’ thick mist covers the skies. For hundreds of miles, it’s like a dead zone. The Daoist and Demon factions of Divine Land seem to be plotting something major—there are even traces of Xuanyuan Palace involved…” Gong Fanxing had to remind him, “Not to mention the strange changes in the Penglai Treasure Vault this time… With so many people out there, we have no idea if His Majesty’s descendants are alive or dead…”

“No matter,” the yellow-robed man shook his head. “As long as they are of my bloodline, I can sense them… head east. I can feel it—they are not far.”

Gongsun Wuwei and Gong Fanxing nodded. “Then we must act immediately!”

They absolutely could not let this yellow-robed man die—because if he did, they would lose everything as well. Their souls were bound to his.

If his soul perished, theirs would too… Saving him meant saving themselves.

…

…

While walking through the mist, Song Haoran suddenly stopped, looking thoughtfully in a direction.

This abrupt halt made the Song family bodyguards behind him grip their weapons tightly, heightening their senses.

They had all been implanted with a strange energy called true force. This energy automatically activated a special ability called Heaven’s Eyes and Earth’s Ears, which greatly enhanced their perception—allowing them to “see” through the mist within a certain range.

It was like wearing night-vision goggles—of course, if electronics worked in the mist, they wouldn’t need this technique.

This true force had been implanted by Princess Chuyang, not by Song Haoran—this was the same method once used by the Great Qin Iron Cavalry to slay beasts beyond the Great Wall.

The technique wouldn’t last forever. Once the true force in the body ran dry, the ability would vanish. To use it again, more true force had to be injected.

Yes, Song Haoran thought of Princess Chuyang as a sort of charging bank. After learning how to move through the mist, he had left part of the team to guard his father and Song Ying, and led the rest deeper into the mist to find other missing Song family fighters.

“What is it?” Princess Chuyang frowned, still maintaining a distance of exactly three meters from him.

Song Haoran had become very disciplined about distance—never more or less than three meters. This annoyed her somewhat, though she didn’t show it.

“Nothing really, just had a strange feeling…” Song Haoran shook his head. “Hard to describe, but I don’t think it’s good.”

“In martial or Dao cultivation, once your power reaches a certain level, you occasionally experience premonitions,” Princess Chuyang said coolly. “It might be something to do with yourself—or your loved ones.”

“You mean… my father and Song Ying could be in danger?” Song Haoran frowned.

“Perhaps it’s you who will be in danger,” she replied blankly. “This mist is strange to begin with.”

Song Haoran shrugged but still gave orders for two people to return to the hotel where his father and Song Ying were, while he remained to wait.

They hadn’t been gone long—about an hour at most. A round trip wouldn’t take much time.

Looking at the meditating Princess Chuyang, Song Haoran suddenly smiled. “Princess, you said premonitions only come with sufficient cultivation… So that means I’m already at that level?”

Princess Chuyang gave him a flat look. “Back in the Great Qin Empire, even the lowest-ranking cavalry commander had stronger martial skills than you. They trained for decades without pause—how could you compare after just a day or two? Utterly foolish.”

But Song Haoran wasn’t one to be fazed. His shamelessness far exceeded the strength of the Tongtian Floating Pagoda inside him. He squinted and grinned. “Princess, has anyone told you… your cold demeanor is actually pretty sexy?”

“Scoundrel!” Princess Chuyang snorted coldly.

This man wasn’t just shameless—he was utterly without shame. How could such a rogue be considered fit for the throne? Heaven must be blind!

“I’m being serious,” Song Haoran smiled. “That cold allure… it’s making my heart race. I feel like introducing you to Luo Qiu. Hmm, I should really consider it. His easygoing personality would probably match yours well.”

“Luo Qiu?” Princess Chuyang frowned.

Though she acted indifferent after waking, she remembered things well. She had heard that name mentioned by the Song family multiple times.

He seemed to be someone very important to them.

“He’s the kind of guy who would sit quietly and listen to me tell stories,” Song Haoran smiled warmly. “He’s really likable… Ah, if only I weren’t a man.”

Princess Chuyang glanced at him strangely, scanning him up and down, then frowned with a serious tone. “So you… have a thing for men? I never expected that…”

Song Haoran burst into laughter. “When men can be more gentle than women, what use are women anymore, huh?”

Princess Chuyang immediately felt disgusted.

Song Haoran laughed again—teasing success.

(End of Chapter)