Chapter 8: The Golden Immortal Corpse

The golden corpse resided at the corridor's end, still in its original dull-grey coffin. Boss Tang hadn't dared transfer it to one of his crystal displays. Above it lay the bronze mirror, now tarnished almost black, its protective power clearly waning.

The experts gathered around, their furrowed brows speaking volumes. As veterans in their field, they could see the death-energy writhing around the coffin like dark smoke. The mirror had almost completely failed - soon, very soon, the corpse would break free, drawn to the living energy of warm flesh.

The two Mourners exchanged glances. "Such murderous energy," one muttered darkly.

"We've been paid," the Yin Walker responded coldly. "Let's do our job. Surely all of us together can handle one corpse. We'd be laughingstocks if word got out otherwise."

The Corpse Handler remained silent, removing his patchwork coat with its constellation of tiny bells. As he moved, the bells chimed - an ominous sign, for these sacred implements only rang in the presence of imminent reanimation.

Draping his coat over the coffin, he declared, "I'll open it. Whoever claims the two million bounty owes me five hundred thousand. Agreed?"

One of the Mourners chuckled. "Brother Wang deserves extra for taking the greatest risk. But have you figured out this coffin's nature?"

The Handler shook his head. "Never seen its like, but it can't be worse than the Corpse King's casket."

He drew a short rod from his waist - one end rounded, the other flattened into a decorated spade. The others stepped back instinctively. Opening a coffin was always the most dangerous moment; the concentrated death-energy could fell even experienced practitioners.

I stepped forward urgently. "Wait! This is a human-skin coffin! Metal tools will trigger a fatal resonance - the metal energy will transform into killing force. You'll be crippled if you're lucky, dead if you're not."

The Handler scoffed. "I've worked across China for decades. Never heard of human skin coffins. Stand aside, boy."

I grabbed his arm. "Listen! Twenty-three centuries ago, the Consort of King Xiang of Wei was falsely accused. After death, her corpse turned golden and hard. The King sought healers throughout the realm, but none could help."

"She became a Chinese vampire, threatening the King's life. Then a master arrived, explaining she had become a Golden Immortal Corpse - impervious to weapons, immune to fire and water, bent on revenge."

"The master's solution? A coffin of human skin, soaked in fresh blood, buried where earth-energies clashed. After a thousand years, she would naturally decay. But metal and yang-energy would trigger her rage, unleashing unstoppable violence."

I met the Handler's eyes. "Human skin coffin, golden corpse - this is ancient lore from the Warring States period. Whether this is the Wei Consort or not, the principles are the same."

"Using the bronze mirror was already a mistake. If you use metal tools now, you'll trigger her full fury. None of us will survive."

My words gave them pause. The Handler narrowed his eyes. "You're not just making this up to claim the reward?"

I laughed bitterly. "I was kidnapped here! I don't want the money. I'll swear to it right now."

"Impressive knowledge for one so young," a Mourner nodded. "Master He chose well. But then, how should we open it?"

I leaned closer to examine the coffin - and the bronze mirror cracked in two with a sharp report.

"Back!" I shouted. "She's breaking free!"

This was catastrophic. Grandfather's texts were clear: there's a crucial difference between opening a coffin and a corpse breaking free.

A coffin is the corpse's home, sealed against air itself. In proper burial grounds, or when filled with unresolved hatred, it accumulates yin energy. When this energy reaches critical mass, it nourishes the corpse, preventing decay. Eventually, corpse and energy expand together until they burst free, seeking the yang energy of the living.

Opening a coffin disrupts this process. Sometimes it prevents the transformation entirely. Even if the corpse is partially transformed, it's far less dangerous than one that breaks free naturally.

The old saying goes: "Fear not the opened coffin, but the broken one. An opened corpse is weak as a chicken, a broken-free one fierce as a tiger."

If we'd arrived earlier, proper techniques could have safely released the energy. Now, with a natural breakthrough, none of us could withstand her power.

The coffin lid exploded upward as arctic cold slammed into us, snuffing out the fluorescent lights. Only dim emergency lamps remained.

I threw myself flat without thinking.

"Demon!" the Handler roared. "Be still!"

I glimpsed a dark golden blur strike him, sending him flying with a scream. She moved with impossible speed, backhanding a Yin Walker like a rag doll. The two Mourners struck with iron staffs from both sides, mystical symbols flashing - but she shrieked and twisted, reducing their weapons to twisted metal. Blood poured from their hands as they staggered back.

Her eyes glowed sickly green as she ignored the bleeding men and lunged straight for me.

I nearly wept. This defied all logic! Chinese vampires craved blood - why would she ignore fresh wounds to pursue me? Hey! What's your problem with me anyway?!