128: Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches, the Key to Yaishan

Lin Feng's calmness was like a contagious virus, gradually pacifying the nearly frantic Wang Dalong beside him.

"The way out is behind the door? Brother Feng, this door looks sturdier than a bank vault's. How are we supposed to open it with just our heads?" Wang Dalong swept the flashlight beam across the stone door, its massive thickness inducing despair.

Lin Feng ignored him, focusing the flashlight beam on the very center of the stone door.

There, it wasn't a smooth, blank surface. A circular stone disc, about half a meter in diameter, was cleverly embedded within the door. The disc was evenly divided into twelve segments byscale lines, each engraved with an ancient seal-script character: Zi, Chou, Yin, Mao, Chen, Si, Wu, Wei, Shen, You, Xu, Hai.

Inside the circle of the Twelve Earthly Branches was a slightly smaller, independently rotatable stone disc, inscribed with ten characters: Jia, Yi, Bing, Ding, Wu, Ji, Geng, Xin, Ren, Gui.

At the very center was an even smaller disc, engraved with the 'Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth' of the Five Elements.

"Celestial Stems, Earthly Branches, Five Elements..." Wang Dalong leaned in, saw the characters clearly, and drew in a sharp breath. "Damn, this is an ancient combination lock! This thing... how do we open it?"

Lin Feng reached out, his gloved fingertip lightly touching the outermost Earthly Branches disc. With a slight exertion, the disc emitted a dull grating sound and actually began to rotate.

"If it moves, that's enough," Lin Feng spoke, his voice echoing in the empty stone chamber. "This is an extremely complex mechanical lock. If the combination is wrong, the lock core will jam completely. We only have one chance."

"The combination? What's the combination?" Wang Dalong shook his head like a rattle-drum. "General Su's birthday? Or the anniversary of his death? It's not written on the epitaph!"

Lin Feng didn't answer. He first tried converting the year of Su Xian's death, 'the final year of Yuanzhen,' into the sexagenary cycle calendar and inputting it. He rotated the discs, aligning the corresponding Celestial Stem, Earthly Branch, and Five Element with a thin engraved line on the door.

After completing this, he took half a step back and waited.

A deathly silence filled the stone chamber.

The stone door remained utterly motionless.

"Seems wrong," Wang Dalong's heart sank. "It's over, Brother Feng. Didn't you say we only have one chance? Is it already jammed?"

"No." Lin Feng shook his head, his gaze sharp, a logical chain rapidly forming in his mind. "The mechanism hasn't been violently triggered, meaning the combination was wrong, but it still retains a reset opportunity. The person who designed it considered that later generations might enter it incorrectly."

His gaze fell back upon the epitaph recording the loyal martyrs' past deeds.

"Su Xian built this tomb to guard the national treasury, to commemorate a piece of history. His own life and death were not important to him." Lin Feng's speech quickened, sparks of thought igniting. "Therefore, the combination definitely isn't his birth or death date. So what date would be carved into their bones, unforgettable for eternity, for him and his men?"

Wang Dalong was stunned. An immensely heavy word escaped his lips uncontrollably.

"Yamen..."

"Right, Yamen." Lin Feng's eyes lit up. "In the sixth month of the second year of Xiangxing, news of the disaster at Yamen arrived. The emperor's star fell, the national fortune collapsed. For Su Xian and his three thousand soldiers, that day was the darkest, most painful day of their lives. The entire fall of the Southern Song Dynasty was frozen on that day! If one were to set an indelible mark, no date would be more fitting than that!"

Action followed words.

Lin Feng immediately recalled the perpetual calendar in his mind and began calculating rapidly.

The second year of Xiangxing in the Southern Song Dynasty, 1279 AD. This was the year of Ji-Mao.

Historical records state that the decisive day of the naval battle at Yamen was the sixth day of the second lunar month.

He swiftly converted this date into the sexagenary cycle day system.

"Year Pillar: Ji-Mao. Month Pillar: Ding-Mao. Day Pillar: Ji-Mao."

Lin Feng's fingertips touched the cold stone disc again. His movements weren't fast, but each one was steady and forceful, carrying a sense of ritual in solving a historical puzzle.

"Year Pillar: Ji-Mao."

He rotated the Celestial Stem disc, aligning the character 'Ji' with the engraved line. Then he rotated the Earthly Branch disc, aligning 'Mao' with the line.

"Month Pillar: Ding-Mao."

He adjusted the discs again, aligning 'Ding' and then 'Mao' in sequence.

"Day Pillar: Ji-Mao."

Finally, he repeated the action for the Year Pillar.

When the last 'Mao' character aligned perfectly with the door's engraved line, he stopped.

The entire combination input was complete: Ji-Mao, Ding-Mao, Ji-Mao.

A cycle filled with a sense of fate.

Year of the Rabbit, Month of the Rabbit, Day of the Rabbit. On this day, a great dynasty reached its end.

"What next? The Five Elements disc?" Wang Dalong asked nervously.

"Ji belongs to Earth, Ding belongs to Fire, Mao belongs to Wood." Lin Feng's voice was low. "Wood generates Fire, Fire generates Earth. The Five Elements flow, generating each other endlessly. This is the pattern of the 'Gate of Life.' If I'm not mistaken..."

Before his words finished.

"Hummm—"

A low, resonant hum, as if from the depths of the earth, sounded.

After aligning, the three stone discs seemed to be drawn by some invisible force, slowly sinking inward into the door.

Immediately after, "Crunch—! Rumble—!"

A series of nerve-grating sounds of mechanical gears grinding came from within the stone door, growing from soft to loud, louder and louder, as if a giant beast slumbering for seven hundred years was awakening.

Dust sifted down from the door seams.

Under the two men's awestruck gaze, the two stone doors, thick enough to withstand thousands of troops, actually began to slowly, inch by inch, open inward from the central axis.

A stale air, mingled with the scents of wood, gold, silver, and silk, surged from the door crack, carrying the mustiness of time, washing over their faces.

The door was open.

A pitch-black passageway appeared before them.

Deep within the passage, it seemed to hold the final breath of a dynasty.