Chapter 143 – Little Black Gate – Northern School Tomb Raider’s Notes

When I got back I told Uncle Liao about the predicament I had encountered and wanted to hear what he had to say.

“Iron coupon tops?”

Liao Bo was surprised, “I’ve heard of this kind of thing, how can there be such a tomb in this desert, are you sure?”

I said that this can not be false, are under a dozen pits step on the point, 100% did not run.

“Well …….”

Liao Bo thought for a few minutes and finally sighed once: “If you can’t fight from the ground, there’s really nothing you can do.”

“There’s one other thing you haven’t thought about.”

I asked him what was up.

He said, “That crazy man (red eyes), didn’t you say he lived in a sarcophagus before?”

I’d say yes, there’s a brick chambered tomb of a Ming Dynasty third-ranked official in the same location, shabby as hell, not a single thing of value, there’s a possibility that it was shortchanged months ago, and the gang left a broken Luoyang shovel behind, and there’s also another possibility that there was nothing in that tomb at the time of its burial.”

Liao Bo shook his head and said: “This is not the point, the point is why is this tomb here? Things happen for a reason, they must conform to the specifications of the system back then, everything must be traceable, also known as reasonableness. Have you given this matter any serious thought?”

I said I had thought about it, I just couldn’t figure it out.

Uncle Liao stared at me for half a day and didn’t say anything.

“Wait …..”

A fragment suddenly flashed through my mind.

Military Castles …..

“Yes!”

“How could I have overlooked something so important!”

Why was this Ming Dynasty tomb buried in the desert? Uncle Liao said that everything should be traceable and in line with the rationality of the social system at that time, which is really a sentence that wakes up the dreamer! I’m now an observer in the dark.

From the early Ming Dynasty, all rulers loved to build military defense castles in the border areas, the most famous one being the Tumu Fortress.

And in the early Ming Dynasty, at the foot of the Helan Mountains, there were military defense fortresses such as San Guan Fortress, Ping Ji Fortress, Zhen Bei Fortress, etc., which continued to be stationed at the foot of the Helan Mountains for nearly seventy years, and the owner of that tomb, Jin A Long, who was the North Commanding Convergence Envoy, was supposed to have died during this long seventy years of military garrisoning. If so, his burial in the Tengger Desert would make sense.

In the same location, two tombs are separated by less than a hundred meters.

Kim Aaron ….

Kim Youzi …..

Could it be ….

My left eyelid wouldn’t stop jumping at the thought of that possibility.

I immediately told Uncle Liao to go out first.

When I went out, Xiao Xuan asked me where I was going, and I said there was something I had to do to make sure.

I called out to Beanpole Boy to grab a flat shovel flashlight, then instructed the others to stay put.

Finding the robber’s hole and descending into the brick chamber tomb, I looked at the empty main chamber in front of me, with the sarcophagus still in place.

Touching the brick wall behind the sarcophagus with my right hand, I began to take a step forward.

Walking to the end, I looked up and back up.

Anyone who does grave robbing and is talented has a sense of direction, and this sense of direction does not mean memorizing the road is great, but refers to the judgment of the orientation under the pit.

I say metaphysically, when I was looking at the brick walls of the crypt, an image arose in my mind.

An “I” walking on a grave.

The other “I” is walking under the tomb.

Then at the same time, they stopped and turned to look directly ahead.

At this time, the one above me, saw the great tomb with the iron coupon top, while the one below the pit, saw this brick wall in front of me.

This kind of idea, which is like a psychosis, is the sense of space under the tomb that belongs to me, Xiang Yunfeng.

“Dang!” I hit the brick wall with a shovel.

“Dang! Dang!” I banged on the wall two more times.

Beanpole heard the voice and was shocked, “It sounds different!”

Listening carefully to the echoes, I opened my eyes and began to descend on the wall with a shovel.

After all, the shovel is not a hammer, not good smash, engaged in half a day of sweat, only to get loose a piece of green brick.

I turned the shovel around, aimed the wooden handle at the brick, and gave it a good stab.