075 The sun and moon shine together in radiant harmony

The chronicle "The Mysterious Tombs" records that ancient people, constrained by their limited scientific understanding, often resorted to the divine for many matters, believing in an afterlife in another world.

During the Yin and Shang periods, myths abounded, mainly due to the limited spread of writing. Future generations could not thoroughly comprehend historical truths and could only rely on imagination and speculation.

Nevertheless, it was precisely due to this that classics like "Investiture of the Gods" came into existence and circulated through the ages.

Returning to the point, ancient people paid meticulous attention to matters after death, sometimes even more so than during life, as exemplified by the Yong Tomb.

From movement to stillness lies the realm of yin and yang. Just as in the human body, from birth to the soul's departure, the heart continues to beat. This is the essence of yang.

Hundreds of bronze vessels containing hundreds of hearts, placed in a circular pit, remained undisturbed for three millennia.

Imagine this: in boiling water, hearts are cooked along with bronze vessels and buried underground, floating up and down in the subterranean world devoid of sunlight, driven by mysterious natural forces. Such a scene is truly awe-inspiring.

Perhaps it was precisely this effect that ancient people pursued.

After hearing my analysis, Bai Ruoxue's mouth stretched almost to her ears.

"This is utterly twisted," she exclaimed.

Then, she posed a question: "It is said that the departed find peace in tranquility. Why go to such lengths? Can they truly find peace?"

After pondering for a moment, I replied, "You are not wrong, but the key lies in the concept of 'change.' Where there is yang, there must be yin, just like men and women, complementary in nature."

"Stop it. Men are creatures driven by their lower bodies," she scoffed.

I merely meant it as an analogy, without any ulterior motives, but unexpectedly, Bai Ruoxue's mind wandered, and she cursed me as a filthy rogue.

Ignoring her, I continued, "With yang on the left and yin on the right, if my guess is correct, there should be a similar tomb on our right."

Hearing this, Bai Ruoxue couldn't help but shiver.

"What's wrong? Even the ruthless Miss Bai, who doesn't bat an eye at murder, has her moments of fear?"

"Who's afraid? You're the one who's scared," she retorted.

"Good. Then don't suddenly throw yourself into my arms later. I already have someone," I joked.

"Dream on. Who cares," she replied.

We then began searching, and soon made a startling discovery: a small round door appeared on the wall, about one meter high and sixty centimeters wide.

"This is the Yin-Yang Door," Bai Ruoxue remarked.

"You know about this too?" I asked.

"Of course, don't forget what I do," she replied.

The Yin-Yang Door has been used to this day. When grandfathers and fathers pass away, there is a Yin-Yang Door in their tombs.

This door serves as a passage connecting the yin and yang realms within the tomb. The left side is called the Bright Court, and the right side is called the Dark Court.

The Yin-Yang Door is a passage for yin spirits to come and go. Living people cannot pass through it, or they may invite disaster or even bloodshed.

"How do we get across?" Bai Ruoxue asked.

"If the Yin-Yang Door is gone, wouldn't it be unimpeded?" I replied.

Smart as ever, Bai Ruoxue immediately grasped my meaning and kicked the door twice.

With a crash, the wall collapsed, revealing a hole about the height of a person.

The Yin-Yang Door connects the Bright Court and the Dark Court, but in reality, it is only a thin layer, about five or six centimeters thick, easily kicked open.

Inside, there were also many wooden pillars, similar to those outside but with minor differences.

The Dark Court also had a crescent-shaped pit, corresponding to the circular pit in the Bright Court, a perfect complement.

"This is the Radiance of the Sun and Moon. Truly marvelous!" I couldn't help but exclaim.

Bai Ruoxue pointed to the crescent-shaped pit and said, "Could you go see what's inside?"

"Aren't you afraid?" I asked.

"Me?"

I shook my head, feeling that at this moment, Bai Ruoxue truly resembled a woman, with a certain charm.

Suddenly, I thought of Shi Jingxia. She had an injury on her foot, and I wondered how she was doing now.

I picked up the rotary shovel and dug twice. With a creak, the sound was piercing. The shovel had hit something.

After clearing away the covering soil, a set of bones appeared. After probing a few times with the shovel, the feedback was the same. The entire crescent-shaped pit was filled with bones.

These bones had been buried underground for years, inseparable from the soil. The clothes had turned to ashes. However, judging from the traces, it seemed that all the buried individuals were women.

I dug out an object similar to a flute with the shovel. Bai Ruoxue looked at it and said it was a hairpin made of cow bone.

During the archaeological excavation of the Zhouyuan site, many such hairpins made of cow bone were unearthed. Experts said that making these hairpins required tens of thousands of cattle bones because only the bones of cow hooves could be used, and the success rate was very low.

Apart from this, there were no other discoveries.

Bai Ruoxue seemed a bit disappointed. People were like this; when hope was shattered or realized, the tension in their hearts eased, and their spirits dampened. The most direct response was to feel extremely tired and want to sleep.

Bai Ruoxue asked, "Do you know what I want to do most right now?"

After thinking for a moment, I said, "You want to find a bronze vessel with a ten-thousand-character inscription, right?"

Bai Ruoxue smiled and shook her head. "No, I'm tired and hungry now, and most importantly, thirsty."

As she said this, my throat also felt dry, parched from the smoke and heat, making me restless.

Thinking of Big Nose Cannon's story about drinking urine to survive, I finally understood that in times of despair, people could do anything.

I tried hard in secret, but not even a drop of urine came out.

Bai Ruoxue weakly said, "I'm a bit sleepy. Keep watch, I'll rest my eyes..."

Before she finished speaking, Bai Ruoxue's body went limp and fell to the ground.

"Hey, don't tell me you're falling asleep in a second."

"Bai Ruoxue, can you hear me?"

"Miss Bai, wake up."

I called out several times, but she didn't respond. I began to feel anxious. I hurried over to check. Bai Ruoxue's eyebrows were tightly furrowed, her face flushed red. Her seductive lips could be used as a shoe brush.

I touched her forehead, and it was burning hot. She must have a fever.

In a severely dehydrated state, the body's metabolism becomes disrupted, and temperature regulation is thrown off balance, leading to a high fever that won't subside. This situation is extremely dangerous.

In fact, the first aid method is quite simple: take measures to reduce the fever promptly and replenish the necessary fluids.

But at the moment, neither seemed achievable.

Bai Ruoxue convulsed a few times, and the situation was extremely critical.

In desperation, without much thought, I laid her flat on the ground, quickly undid her buttons, removed her inner clothing, and ensured her breathing was unobstructed.

Suddenly, two soft objects fell out, like jelly. They turned out to be implants, explaining their size.

"Miss Bai, I'm sorry."

I remembered the scene from a few months ago, that night in the abandoned brick kiln east of Xishuigou Village, where Bai Ruoxue was almost assaulted.

Facing such a situation again, what kind of fate was this?