Fan Li, in his clone form, stood at the prearranged meeting point on the northwestern border of the Great Chu. A lone, gnarled tree perched atop a small, dusty hill. Below, Fan Li endured the abrasive sting of the northwesterly wind, sand stinging his face.

"Just what was Qing Qiu thinking, asking me to help her open the Tomb of Xuanyuan?" He wiped his face with a sleeve.

He was a man of confidence. Even with his relatively low cultivation level, he believed that resourcefulness could overcome any obstacle. Given enough time to plan and strategize, he could always outsmart his opponents.

However, brute force could also overwhelm cunning. Could his cleverness truly compensate for his lack of cultivation in the face of something as mysterious as the Tomb of Xuanyuan?

"When it comes to tomb raiding, I'm no Cao Cao." He inspected the tools he had brought.

In his storage box, lay a Luoyang shovel, iron rods, a short-handled hoe, a pickaxe, a nightwalker's outfit, and a compass. Drawing on both his memories from this life and his previous one, he had tried to be as prepared as possible. These tools, crafted by the skilled artisans of the Fan Clan Trading Company using spirit materials, were far superior to ordinary implements.

He hefted the Luoyang shovel, testing its weight. "Qing Qiu actually enjoys tomb raiding? I wonder what tools she brought. Perhaps hers are even more professional?"

Lost in his thoughts, he noticed the wind had died down, the sand settling. He could finally appreciate the surrounding landscape. The vast expanse of the northwest, desolate and unforgiving, held a certain bleak beauty. It was as if countless heroes had once walked this land, their stories etched in blood and tears.

"Fan Li."

A melodious voice, though lacking any warmth or emotion, drifted down from above. It was like the sound of a wooden puppet, intricately crafted yet devoid of life.

Qing Qiu descended from the sky with an azure robes billowing around her like ethereal wings.

Among the ten great Sage Rulers of the Brahma Sound Pure Land, all renowned as otherworldly masters, only Qing Qiu, in Fan Li’s opinion, truly embodied that image. He addressed her as "Sage Ruler" with genuine respect, a title she seemed to hold in little regard.

"You are quick," she stated simply.

"Uh, well, men generally don't appreciate being praised for being 'quick,'" Fan Li corrected playfully.

"Why?" Qing Qiu's face contorted into a confused expression. "Fan Li, I truly believe you are quick."

Fan Li was speechless. There was no reasoning with this woman.

"Where exactly is the Tomb of Xuanyuan?" he asked. "I’ve consulted countless ancient texts and historical records, but there’s no trace of it."

Qing Qiu, listening to his complaints, merely shrugged. "Books are useless.. All books containing records of ancient history have been destroyed."

Fan Li stared at her in shock. "All of them? Impossible! Surely… families like the Lu Clan of Lu City, who trace their lineage back to the pre-Qin era, or Guiguzi of Mount Yunmeng, must have some knowledge, right?"

Stolen novel; please report.

If time weren't so tight, he would have definitely consulted Lu Chunqiu and Wang Ban before setting out on this journey.

Qing Qiu shook her head firmly. "No, they know nothing. Emperor Qin Shi Huang burned the books, severing the past from the present."

"Oh…"

Fan Li was speechless. It seemed the two Emperors Qin, one from his previous world, the other from this one, shared a peculiar hobby. Didn’t they know playing with fire could burn their bed?

He couldn't help but feel a bit of regret for the lost knowledge. Then he reconsidered. If Emperor Qin Shi Huang hadn't burned the books, if knowledge of ancient civilizations were readily available, it wouldn't be his and Qing Qiu’s turn to visit the Tomb of Xuanyuan.

Surely someone like Cao Cao would have already plundered it?

"So, you know the exact location of the tomb?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes," Qing Qiu replied, nodding.

Fan Li was even more confused. If Emperor Qin Shi Huang had severed the past from the present, how could Qing Qiu possibly know the tomb’s location? However, this was probably Qing Qiu’s personal secret, and Fan Li, respecting her privacy, refrained from pressing her further.

"Follow me."

Qing Qiu took his hand, her touch light and delicate, her skin as soft as a flower petal, as if it could crumble under the slightest pressure. Fan Li dared not grip her hand, allowing himself to be led. He was acutely aware that she was a seventh-rank Great Vehicle realm cultivator, one of the world's strongest. The word "delicate" was hardly an accurate description of her.

With her free hand, Qing Qiu retrieved a banner. It resembled a military flag, adorned with five-colored rays of light, its aura radiating splendor. With a single glance, Fan Li recognized it as a high-rank spirit treasure.

"What is that?" He blurted out the question before realizing his mistake. A cultivator's spirit treasures and secret techniques were as personal as a woman's age, weight, and measurements in his previous world. It was impolite to inquire.

"The Banner of Summoning Demons," Qing Qiu replied.

Once again, she surprised him. She answered directly, without a hint of hesitation or evasion.

"The Banner of Summoning Demons?"

The name seemed incredibly familiar. Either it was part of the original Fan Li’s memories, or perhaps he had encountered it in his previous life.

As he strained his mind, trying to remember, he noticed Qing Qiu raise the banner high and slam it into the ground. The action reminded Fan Li of Moses from the biblical story of Exodus.

Suddenly, the space before them twisted, and the earth trembled beneath their feet.

"I remember!" Fan Li exclaimed. "The Banner of Summoning Demons belonged to Nuwa…"

Before he could finish, Qing Qiu, releasing his hand, wrapped her arms around his waist. With a single leap, they plunged into the swirling vortex.

Fan Li’s vision blurred, the world spinning around him. He lost consciousness.

He awoke to a pounding headache. "Ah… Qing Qiu, what did you do… My head hurts…" he groaned. As he complained, he felt a pair of slender fingers gently massaging his temples.

"How about this?" she asked. "Is it still hurting?"

He recognized her voice, but he couldn't respond. The sensation was too pleasurable.

He realized he was lying down. The bed was soft, but his pillow was even softer.

Finally, he opened his eyes, staring in astonishment at the strange and beautiful realm surrounding him. The sky was gone, replaced by a thick layer of earth hanging overhead. Beneath his feet, the ground felt solid. There was no sun or moon, only countless tiny candle flames illuminating the dim space.

"Fan Li, we have arrived," Qing Qiu said. "This is the Tomb of Xuanyuan."

He bolted upright, finally realizing he had been lying on a cloud bed. It was a real cloud, as white as snow and as soft as cotton, yet it supported both his and Qing Qiu’s weight. As for his pillow, it had been Qing Qiu’s lap.

"What did you say?" he asked incredulously. "This is a tomb?"

He looked around, noticing that the tiny candle flames were, in fact, ever-burning lamps, typically used in tombs.

Suddenly, his vision expanded as if the most skilled cinematographer had zoomed out from a close-up to a panoramic shot.

He saw it. The legendary tomb, buried deep beneath the earth, its existence lost to time, erased from historical records. It now stood before him, revealed in all its ancient glory.

A colossal skeleton, a hundred feet tall, lay sprawled on the ground, its head missing. It looked as if it were merely sleeping, waiting to awaken. Behind the skeleton, a wall, towering like a mountain, bore an inscription in ancient characters that Fan Li could barely decipher:

"Daji, Queen of the Shang Dynasty, buried here, headless."