Chapter Sixty-Three: Monster

This man was tall and powerfully built, with strikingly handsome features. He wore royal robes and a crown upon his head. His eyes held a chilling authority that made one’s heart tremble. In his hand was an ancient bronze sword—though three thousand years had passed, not a trace of rust or decay marred its blade.

As he gazed upon us, uninvited guests in his domain, King Zhou of Shang’s brow furrowed. He did not seem fully awake. I thought of seizing this chance to escape, but no matter how we tried, the stone door would not budge. There was nothing for it but to resort to our second plan: act first, strike before he could recover.

The three of us exchanged glances, then found a heavy iron chain in the burial chamber and bound him tightly. Still uneasy, we steeled ourselves—why not end it completely and put him to the sword? I raised the Azure Cloud Sword and thrust it at him. Yet as soon as the blade touched his robes, it halted, immovable. No matter how I pressed, the sword would not pierce him.

A cold shock ran through me. Was King Zhou made of stone and iron? This was the famed Azure Cloud Sword, unstoppable and peerless—yet it could not reach his flesh! Wu Xin and Lin Weiyan rushed to help, but even with all three of us straining with all our might, the sword would not enter his body.

Suddenly, a surge of raw force burst forth. We were thrown back several steps by the impact. When we looked again, King Zhou seemed fully awake at last. His face darkened, exuding a natural authority, and his icy gaze fell upon us. He seemed to be trying to discern who we were.

For reasons I could not name, a chill crept up my spine, cold sweat breaking out along my back. I glanced at Wu Xin and Lin Weiyan—Wu Xin’s face was ashen, his legs shaking, while Lin Weiyan looked grim and fiercely alert.

King Zhou studied us for a moment, then leapt from the coffin in one bound. His face expressionless, he asked coldly, “Where am I? Where is the Grand Diviner?”

His question left me speechless. If I told him outright that the Shang dynasty had perished over three thousand years ago, and that his Grand Diviner Shen Gongbao was gone with it, who knew what he might do? If he could not accept the truth and lashed out at us, we would have no hope of surviving.

After much deliberation, I decided not to reveal the truth for now. But just as I was about to speak, I noticed King Zhou’s gaze fixed intently on Lin Weiyan, his expression strange and unreadable. Could he be mistaking her for Daji?

Indeed, King Zhou addressed Lin Weiyan, “Beauty... tell me, where is this place?”

Lin Weiyan was momentarily stunned, but soon regained her composure. I quickly interjected, “Great King, this is your palace. Have you forgotten?”

At my words, King Zhou scratched his head, muttering to himself, “Is this truly my palace? I have no memory of it.” He seemed to sink into thought, his recollections evidently hazy.

After a long pause, his face darkened once more, and he glared at us with a menacing air. He must have remembered something, for a sense of foreboding filled me.

“Who are you, truly?” he demanded, his voice cold.

I forced a laugh—after all, as the saying goes, one does not strike a smiling face. “Great King, please do not be angry. Allow me to explain.”

Drawing on every ounce of eloquence, I wove a tale from the ancient Shang to the present day, omitting any details that might offend him. I fully expected him to rage and slay us all. But to my surprise, though his face was dark and uncertain, he did not attack.

Instead, he sighed. “To think I have slept for over three thousand years and everything is changed beyond recognition.”

Then he turned to me. “Will you help me rebuild my empire?”

What? I felt a chill—did he wish to restore his kingdom? He had no idea what era he had awoken into, and still dreamed of reviving his rule? With modern technology, even King Zhou himself would be powerless—let alone to conquer the world.

Of course, I did not say this aloud. For now, I had to play along and find a way to escape. I nodded and expressed my willingness.

King Zhou threw back his head and laughed with joy. Seizing the opportunity, I suggested, “Great King, we must first leave this place before we can raise an army.”

He replied, “That is no difficulty. Moreover, I have a secret force—once I summon them, the world will be ours.”

A secret force? After three thousand years, could any have survived? But that was not my concern. Escape was our priority.

King Zhou strode to the stone door and gave it a push. To our astonishment, the door swung open easily. Not long before, the three of us had strained against it without so much as a tremor. Clearly, King Zhou’s strength was not to be underestimated.

Emerging from the tomb, King Zhou declared, “I will go and summon my men. You will wait here.” With a commanding air, he departed, vanishing from sight. Only then did we finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Thankfully, King Zhou had not turned on us—otherwise, we would have been doomed. We exchanged glances; none of us was foolish enough to stay put and await our fate. Without delay, we hurried away.

We ran through the passage, knowing that Feng Zimo would not be found for now. Better to leave and wait for him by the underground river. We quickened our pace, not daring to linger.

Near the river, we found a hidden spot to observe the surroundings, praying that Feng Zimo would emerge safely and not encounter misfortune.

Time passed swiftly—over half an hour, yet Feng Zimo was nowhere in sight. We could not wait any longer. If we lingered, we might not find Feng Zimo, but King Zhou might return and that would be disastrous.

I suggested, “Why don’t we follow the river and leave some marks along the way? That way, if Brother Feng comes by, he’ll find us.”

Just as we were about to leave, a figure appeared ahead.

Feng Zimo?

He was disheveled and wounded, running toward us and glancing anxiously behind. Catching sight of us, he shouted, “Danger—run!”

No sooner had the words left his lips than a monstrous creature burst out in pursuit.