127: General's Epitaph

Darkness.

Deathly silence, mixed with the thick scent of damp earth and dry dust, instantly enveloped all senses.

"Cough... cough..."

Wang Dalong's coughing broke the silence. He was not far from Lin Feng, his voice filled with the terror of having narrowly escaped death. "Brother Feng? Brother Feng, are you still alive? I... I feel like my butt's been split into eight pieces."

"Alive." Lin Feng's voice was hoarse. He struggled to sit up, his back burning with pain. If it weren't for the equipment in his backpack cushioning the fall, that impact would have knocked him out cold.

He shook his head and pulled a spare tactical flashlight from his pocket.

"Click."

A beam of intense light instantly pierced the darkness, cutting a clear column through the air. Countless tiny dust particles tumbled and danced within the light.

They were now at the bottom of an inclined ramp. The ramp, about twenty to thirty meters long with a slope exceeding forty-five degrees, was constructed from rough-hewn stones. They had just tumbled down this very ramp. At the top of the ramp, a faint glimmer of daylight was still visible—the entrance where they had fallen.

The flashlight beam swung forward. Both Lin Feng and Wang Dalong held their breath simultaneously.

Before them lay a spacious underground stone chamber. The chamber was about half the size of a basketball court. Its walls and vaulted ceiling were built from massive stone blocks, forming an exceptionally sturdy structure with no signs of collapse.

And in the very center of the stone chamber stood a solitary grave.

A complete tomb, carved from bluish-gray stone.

Before the grave stood a tall stone stele.

"Holy shit... it really is a grave!" Wang Dalong supported himself against the wall as he stood up, limping over to Lin Feng's side. Looking at the scene before him, his face was full of absurdity. "Good thing I kept the video recording running the whole time, from when we found the stone slab to when we fell down. Otherwise, if we're discovered later, we'd never be able to wash off the suspicion of grave robbing, even if we jumped into the Yellow River."

Lin Feng ignored his grumbling. Holding the flashlight, he walked step by step toward the solitary grave.

The tombstone was tall, over two meters, with a simple, ancient design devoid of any superfluous carvings. The flashlight beam fell upon its surface, revealing a line of deeply engraved official script characters.

"[Tomb of Lord Su Xian, Great Song Dynasty's Pacification of the Seas General]"

It really was him!

Wang Dalong gasped sharply, moving closer to Lin Feng and lowering his voice. "Brother Feng, we... we've barged into someone's ancestral grave. This isn't quite right, is it?"

Lin Feng didn't answer. His gaze turned to a slightly shorter stone stele beside the main one. It was densely covered in small characters—the epitaph.

He focused the flashlight beam on the epitaph and began reading it word by word, from the beginning.

Wang Dalong also leaned in to look, following along.

The opening of the epitaph recounted that unknown history with an intensely sorrowful tone.

"[...In the fifth month of the Second Year of the Xiangxing Era, by order of the Commander-in-Chief, I led the fleet south with the national treasury. In the sixth month, we arrived at Shenying Port in Qiongzhou for rest and resupply, awaiting the long voyage. However, the Mandate of Heaven collapsed. Before we could set sail, the dire news from Yamen arrived. The Emperor's star had fallen, the Prime Minister had drowned himself in the sea, and the national fortune was extinguished in an instant...]"

This account confirmed all of Lin Feng's previous speculations. Su Xian's fleet had indeed halted in Hainan.

"[...The three armies donned mourning white, weeping as they faced north, their cries shaking the seas and sky. To advance meant an uncertain future, becoming lonely ghosts in foreign lands; to retreat meant a homeland lost, with nowhere to find refuge. We, the remnants, were caught between a rock and a hard place, holding the national treasury like a burning coal. General Lord Su, unable to bear the thought of the treasury of three hundred years falling into foreign hands, nor willing to let it be seized by the Mongol Yuan, adopted the plan of the Qiongzhou guides. Following the example of our ancestors, we built a stockade, hiding in the mountains and wilderness, awaiting a chance for change.]"

"Built a stockade, hiding in the mountains and wilderness..." Wang Dalong murmured. "They didn't leave. They really stayed."

Lin Feng continued reading. The further he went, the heavier his heart became.

"[...However, as time passed, the hope of restoring the nation grew increasingly faint. The soldiers longed for home, and morale wavered. The General then made a solemn vow, declaring that this treasury was the last lifeblood of the Great Song. Not a single coin or item could be touched unless it was for the restoration of the Han people's rule. All we comrades-in-arms must use our remaining bodies as the lock and our loyal souls as the key, guarding it for generations. In life, we are the guardians of the Great Song; in death, we are the tombs of the treasury.]"

"Using our remaining bodies as the lock and our loyal souls as the key..." Lin Feng whispered these eight words, an indescribable feeling of tragic heroism welling up in his heart.

He finally understood why there was such a massive grave here.

The final paragraph of the epitaph revealed the answer.

"[...From the second year of Xiangxing to the final years of Yuanzhen, over thirty years, comrades and old friends gradually passed away. Knowing his own end was near, the General gathered everyone's strength to construct this tomb beneath Jiuzhou Ridge. The exterior is a circular mound, modeled after imperial mausoleums to display the Great Song's majesty; the interior holds secrets to house the treasury's treasures. After the General's passing, he was buried at the head of the tomb passage, using his own body as the nation's gate, guarding this place. The three thousand soldiers under his command who ended their days in Qiong were all buried around the circular mound, forming a ring of protective tombs. Comrades in life, neighbors in death. Henceforth, our descendants must remember our ancestors' teachings, ascend the heights each year, offer sacrifices facing north, and never forget.]"

Upon reading this, everything became clear.

That enormous circular mound outside was not Su Xian's personal tomb at all. It was a vast underground burial complex, centered on Su Xian's tomb, containing all the soldiers of the entire Southern Song Dynasty's exiled fleet!

They had used their own flesh, blood, and bones to build the strongest line of defense for the Great Song's final treasury.

Wang Dalong's eyes had long turned red. He rubbed them hard, his voice choked with emotion. "These people... these people..."

Lin Feng bowed deeply towards Su Xian's tombstone.

This had nothing to do with treasure hunting; it was solely for this loyalty spanning seven hundred years.

Straightening up, his gaze became unwaveringly firm. He walked around the tombstone, heading towards the rear of the grave mound.

Sure enough, there, embedded in the stone chamber's rear wall, was an immensely thick double-leaf stone door. The door had no lock, only two massive stone grooves, seemingly requiring some special key to open.

"The treasure should be behind this," Lin Feng said, reaching out to touch the cold stone door.

"But how do we get out?" Wang Dalong suddenly thought of a crucial problem. He looked up at the sloped entrance. "That entrance is at least four or five meters off the ground, and the slope is so steep, there's no way to climb back up. Down here, there's absolutely no cell phone signal."

The two of them were trapped here.

Lin Feng was silent for a moment, then turned his gaze to the tightly shut stone door.

"Su Xian's design wouldn't be a dead end," his voice was exceptionally calm. "The only way out is behind this door."

He decided to open this door.