Chapter 44

Chapter 44: A Different Perspective

Hu Yifei stomped her feet in frustration. “What’s so funny? Guo Jing is a hero—a great one who served his country and people!”

Chen Yuze and the others stared at the coffin in the grand hall. “Yifei, use your brain. Why would anyone build such a massive tomb for Guo Jing and Huang Rong? To put it bluntly, they’d be lucky not to have their bones scattered to the wind. Yes, they served their country and people, but that’s from the perspective of the Central Plains people. Try looking at it from another angle.”

“Xiao Chen is right,” Old Hu chimed in, having figured it out. “From the Yuan Dynasty’s perspective, not grinding their bones to dust would’ve been an act of mercy. Your hero isn’t necessarily everyone else’s hero.”

“Wait, what? Why would they build a tomb for the son but not the father?” The fat man scratched his head, confused.

“Think about it. Back then, Guo Jing and his mother were struggling to survive until Genghis Khan took them in. How did he treat Guo Jing?”

“Good. Really damn good, even if I hate to admit it,” the fat man nodded after a moment’s thought.

Chen Yuze glanced at the coffin. “Of course it was good. He had his own son, Tolui, swear brotherhood with Guo Jing, betrothed his daughter, Princess Huazheng, to him—and Guo Jing didn’t refuse. He even had his personal archery master, Jebe, teach Guo Jing how to shoot. At the time, Jebe was the only ‘Eagle Hunter’ in the world. But what happened later?”

“Guo Jing not only broke off the engagement, hooked up with Huang Rong, but also betrayed Genghis Khan. He repeatedly tried to assassinate his sworn brother and his son, Möngke, then led armies to slaughter his former benefactors. In the eyes of the Yuan Dynasty, he was nothing but an ungrateful traitor—disloyal, unfilial, ruthless, and unjust. He checked every box.” Hu Yifei finally understood. To them, Guo Jing was a hero—she admitted that, everyone did. But to the Yuan forces? He was a damn joke.

What “immortal lovers” Guo Jing and Huang Rong? More like a homewrecker stealing the spotlight. Back then, a betrothal was as binding as a marriage certificate. Guo Jing could’ve taken Huang Rong as a concubine, but no—he had to divorce Huazheng and make Huang Rong his official wife. And let’s not forget, Guo Jing was once the Golden Blade Consort—a vassal.

“Get it now? To us, he’s a hero. To them, he’s a backstabbing ingrate. Harsh, but true. Compare him to Qiao Feng—if Qiao Feng had made the same choices, he’d have been cursed for generations. But Qiao Feng didn’t. He never forgot the kindness of his adoptive family, even though they weren’t blood-related. Guo Jing? He wiped it all from his memory. When the Khitan invaded, Qiao Feng stopped them, even dying in shame—torn between his birth father and adoptive father, he chose death to atone. But Guo Jing…” Chen Yuze trailed off.

That’s how it was. If Guo Jing and Huang Rong’s bodies had fallen into the hands of the Central Plains people, they’d have gotten a grand burial—heroes, after all. But in the hands of their enemies? They were traitors. And as luck would have it, they ended up with the latter.

On the other hand, Guo Polu was the epitome of loyalty, filial piety, and righteousness. During the fall of Xiangyang, he alone fought alongside his parents to the death, perishing in battle. To the enemy, he was merely an opponent—but a respectable one. A true man.

“So this has to be Guo Polu, not Guo Jing and his wife?” The fat man stared at the coffin.

Hu Yifei, losing patience, glared at the three men. “Why are you three overcomplicating this? Just open the damn coffin and see for yourselves!”

“Fair point.” The three men exchanged glances. Crude, but effective—the simplest solution was often the best.

They prepared themselves, pushing open the innermost coffin lid with slow, deliberate force. As it gradually gave way, the contents became clear—a single man, his skin still eerily elastic, as if he’d just died. Among the burial goods were glimpses of gold, silver, and jewels. Clad in armor, his head bore scars stitched shut with golden thread.

“It really is Guo Polu.” Seeing the man lying there confirmed it. Guo Polu had died in his twenties, unmarried and childless.

The moment they fully opened the coffin, white mold-like growths rapidly spread across Guo Polu’s body. The fat man and Old Hu stumbled back in alarm, but Chen Yuze and Hu Yifei held their ground.

“Xiao Chen, careful—it’s reanimating!” Old Hu warned, tense.

“I know what I’m doing.” No sooner had Chen Yuze spoken than Guo Polu’s corpse withered away, collapsing into a desiccated husk so fragile it seemed a breeze might scatter it.

“A loyal and righteous general of his time… Pity his glory was always overshadowed by his parents.” Chen Yuze sighed. Guo Polu was born in the wrong era—or perhaps into the wrong family. Every good deed was credited to his parents, while every mistake was magnified tenfold. Of the three siblings, only he died defending Xiangyang. Even Guo Jing’s disciples, the Wu brothers, fled—but Guo Polu couldn’t.

“Hm?” Chen Yuze picked up a strange bronze lamp from the side. He’d never seen anything like it, yet something about it felt important—enough that he instinctively cradled it carefully.

“Old Hu, fat man, come over.” Chen Yuze beckoned them. Now it was time for the real tomb-raiding.

Since Old Hu and the fat man weren’t experts, they deferred to Chen Yuze. None of them were greedy—though the burial goods were plentiful, each took only a few items. Grave-robbing had its rules: leave something for the deceased.

After selecting a few more items from the side chambers, they prepared to leave. Just then, the hall groaned ominously—their earlier disturbance had finally taken its toll.

“What are you staring at? Run!” Chen Yuze shouted. The four bolted, barely making it out before the grand hall collapsed behind them. Outside, Lingzi was still butchering the giant serpent, having already hauled away part of it. Even as the structure crumbled, she stubbornly tried to salvage more.

“Lingzi, run! It’s coming down!” Old Hu yelled in panic, but she kept working.

“Move!” The fat man couldn’t take it—he hoisted her over his shoulder and sprinted. Chen Yuze, bringing up the rear, saw nearly half the serpent still intact. Seizing the moment while the others weren’t looking, he stashed it in his spatial backpack. He would’ve taken more, but the hall’s final collapse cut him short.

Crash—!

Wood splintered, tiles shattered, and dust billowed as the grand hall imploded. The group didn’t dare look back, fearing the entire structure might bury them. Only when they reached the surface did they finally breathe again.