Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Anyone who read “Treasure Appraisal Livestream: Terror in the Robber Tunnel” should know that tomb raiders are not easy to deal with. Especially the big organized crews. They basically all carry guns, and they’re vicious enough to kill without blinking.

If there really were tomb raiders here, then from the moment I stepped onto this construction site, they must have had eyes on me.

They had let Grandfather Murong survey the area and dig holes for one simple reason: they were confident they could silence us later. No one would be left to leak the news.

If I had actually chosen to call the police just now, gunshots would probably have rung out the very next second.

I shot Grandfather Murong a look.

“Grandpa, let’s find their robber tunnel first. Qin and Han tombs are all huge. We might not even run into them. We’ll just go down, grab a couple of good pieces, and we’ll be rich!”

At a time like this, the tomb raiders definitely wouldn’t let us leave anyway. We might as well take the initiative and go down into the tomb ourselves. It would save them the effort of killing us and dumping our bodies.

Sure enough, the moment I suggested entering the tomb, the surroundings remained deathly silent, but the tense, uneasy feeling in the air noticeably receded.

Even though he knew we were putting on an act, Grandfather Murong was still so excited that his beard trembled.

“The ancestors have shown their power! I’ve finally lived to see this day again!”

With that, he tossed aside the Luoyang shovel and started darting all over the construction site, occasionally dropping to the ground to sniff at the mounds of soil. Before long, Grandfather Murong found the entrance to the robber tunnel.

“Sect Leader, it’s here. Well, would you look at that. They hid this entrance pretty well. If this old man’s nose weren’t so sharp, they might’ve fooled me.”

The construction site had only just begun development, so the place was a mess, covered in weeds and gravel. The robber tunnel Grandfather Murong pointed to was hidden behind several clumps of weeds.

Someone had covered the entrance with plastic sheeting, scattered dirt over it, and left only a few small holes for ventilation. If you didn’t stare closely, you would never notice it.

I gave Grandfather Murong a thumbs-up.

“As expected of the famous Master Dog.”

Grandfather Murong’s old face flushed.

“That’s just something people in the trade call me for fun. How could I dare call myself a master in front of you? I wouldn’t presume, wouldn’t presume.”

In a tomb raiding crew, everyone had their own role. Roughly speaking, they were divided into four types: “eyes,” “pot-setters,” “legs,” and “hard labor.”

The “eyes” held the highest status. They usually knew some feng shui, could locate ancient tombs, identify artifacts, and had channels to sell the stolen goods.

The “pot-setters” handled logistics. After an ancient tomb was found, they were responsible for purchasing all kinds of equipment. The “legs” were the technical workers who understood explosives and blasting.

The lowest status belonged to the “hard labor.” As the name suggested, they were the ones responsible for swinging shovels, making test holes, going down into tombs to dig for treasures, and doing the brute work. As long as they were brave and strong, there wasn’t much technique involved.

But Grandfather Murong was different. Although he was also “hard labor,” even the “eyes” would ask for his opinion when determining a tomb’s location.

That was because he had an exceptionally sensitive nose. According to him, he could smell the unique scent of decay that seeped into the air from ancient tombs.

Relying on that nose, he had even detected corpse-turned “zongzi” in tomb passages ahead of time on several occasions, helping everyone escape disaster. People in the circle respected him for it and gave him the nickname Master Dog.

Grandfather Murong peeled away the layer of plastic sheeting, his face glowing with excitement.

“Who would’ve thought that one day I’d get to invite an Earth Master to be the eyes?

“The three of us-what do you call this? The perfect lineup for a tomb raiding crew. A dream team!”

Murong Yue said, “Stop dreaming. Take a look at what this is.”

The layer of dirt on the plastic sheeting had shaken loose, revealing several lines of bright red words.

Rules of the corpse-nurturing ground:

1. Do not feed raw meat to the corpses.

2. If you see a child under the age of ten, close your eyes immediately.

3. Eat the rats.

Grandfather Murong tossed the plastic sheeting aside, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

“That pack of Hu Jian’s sewer dogs are usually so fussy about everything. Why are they putting something like this at the tunnel entrance now? What corpse-nurturing ground? Inauspicious. Bad luck!”

With that, he pulled several coils of climbing rope from his backpack and tossed them to us, then fastened the buckle around his own waist.

“Sect Master Qiao, I’ll go down first.”

Then, with a whoosh, he slid down through the entrance.

Meeting my surprised gaze, Murong Yue shrugged.

“My grandpa even brings that stuff when he comes to Xi’an. Occupational habit.”