Tomb robbing: I was Buried alive in the Mausoleum of the First Emperor, I Get Stronger by Looting Corpses - Chapter 37

Chapter 37: Am I Now an Anomaly in Their Eyes?

So even that approach failed…

Yang Yi had no idea how much time had passed. He stood beside the bed, watching the death guard who had once again fallen unconscious. A sigh escaped him, this time filled with reluctant acceptance. He had misjudged her tolerance.

Other than a sharp intake of breath at the very beginning, she had remained completely silent throughout. Even when her body finally succumbed to exhaustion and collapsed into unconsciousness, she made no sound. Not a groan, not a whisper. Because of that, Yang Yi still did not know her name—or even a code name. Not a single piece of identifying information had slipped through.

It felt as if I were confronting a corpse… or a block of wood. With a long breath, he took hold of her wrist. As his will activated the system, her body vanished from sight. She had been transferred into the system’s spatial storage. So it’s confirmed—living beings can be stored inside the system space. The experiment’s success eased some of the frustration he had been feeling.

“Darling, where is she?” Meng Jiangnü asked curiously as she noticed the woman had suddenly disappeared. “I sealed her away,” Yang Yi replied with ease, offering what was, in essence, a truthful explanation. Indeed, storing the Death Guard in the system space was no different from sealing her off from the world.

“Sealed?” Meng Jiangnü and Qinglian echoed, their eyes widening with wonder. They did not entirely grasp the meaning of the word, but it sounded mysterious and powerful—clearly some sort of arcane spell. They instinctively trusted it to be one of their husband’s formidable abilities.

“The inner palace must have taken notice of us by now,” Yang Yi remarked after a thoughtful pause. “Whoever’s behind this likely holds some authority—not the commander, but someone with influence.” His instincts told him the woman was probably from either the Yin-Yang faction or affiliated with Zhao Gao. She could not possibly be one of Qin Shi Huang’s personal guards.

If his deductions were correct, then within the tomb of the First Emperor—this seemingly sealed world—three forces were already at play. And now, with his own actions carving out influence, he had inadvertently introduced a fourth. The craftsmen, he reasoned, were not truly a faction in their own right. “No matter what happens, we’ll stay by your side,” Meng Jiangnü said, her voice firm and resolute.

“Then let us proceed to clear the third corridor,” Yang Yi said with a cold smile. “Let’s see if that finally forces them to reveal themselves.” Though he had failed to extract any information from the death guard, he still had absolute faith in his deductions. He packed away the wooden bed, took the two women with him, and made his way once more to the end of the passage. His gaze shifted to the distant city wall.

As before, the fortress shimmered faintly under a star-like glow. The soldiers patrolling it radiated an ominous pressure, each of them exuding a sense of fatal resolve. Yang Yi ignored them entirely. Using his now-familiar method of clearing the way with rolling stones, he soon arrived at the entrance of the third passage. “Kill!” Without hesitation, Yang Yi drew his weapon and surged forward. Once again, the slaughter began.

He was growing more adept with each encounter. His increased strength and improved technique allowed him to move swiftly and decisively. Blood filled the corridor, and before long, silence returned. Then came the familiar routine—scouring corpses and burying the dead. But today, it seemed luck had deserted him. Aside from standard supplies, cultivation time, and lifespan, he obtained nothing remarkable.

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Host: Yang Yi

Age: 20

Realm: Mid-Stage Transformative Strength (Internal Pre-Heaven)

Soul Realm: Mortal

Innate Talent / Bone Structure: Overlord Bone

Cultivation Methods: Ancient Breathing Technique, Mohist Breathing Technique, Basic Breathing Technique, Medical Breathing Technique

Skills: Introductory Mohist Mechanics, Peerless Halberd, Sword Draw (Introductory), Ghost Gate Eighteen Needles, Basic Medical Knowledge

Extractable Lifespan: 3,235 years

Remaining Cultivation Time: 75 years

“These craftsmen weren’t much,” Yang Yi muttered as he reviewed his attribute panel. “They were fewer in number, and all I got was seventy-five years of cultivation time.” He decided not to spend the time immediately. Based on his calculations, seventy-five years would not be enough to push him into the next cultivation stage. Better to wait until he had cleared all the corridors—then he could break through in one decisive push.

Once he reached the Qi Armour Realm and could project his Pre-Heaven Qi externally, he believed he would have the power to tear through any mechanism and breach fortified cities. After a short rest and a shared meal with the two women, Yang Yi pressed onward to the fourth corridor. “Kill…!” The moment he entered, he became a god of war. Murderous energy swelled around him as he charged in, his killing intent thick and ferocious. Screams echoed endlessly, mingling with the sound of wailing and panic.

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“Ahh—”

Is today just an unlucky day for corpse-looting? Having buried all the bodies, Yang Yi shook his head, muttering to himself with a wry smile. There were no hidden treasures, no unique opportunities. Still, the knowledge that he now had one hundred and fifty-five years of cultivation time stored up gave him some consolation.

[Host, this is the normal result, is it not? They were just nameless, powerless craftsmen. Not everyone carries fate-changing fortunes.]

Even the system seemed to have grown impatient with his complaints. “Fine then,” he replied. “Let’s keep going.” Without hesitation, Yang Yi pushed forward, his will undeterred. After sharing another quick meal with his companions, he charged toward the fifth corridor. Once more, cries of pain and anguish echoed through the vast, empty plaza—sounds that carried all the way up to the city walls.

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At that very moment, a middle-aged man stood atop the fortress wall, his expression grim. His gaze was fixed firmly in the direction of the corridor. “That damned anomaly,” he growled. “He’s dismantling the Nine Fiendish Dragon Formation…”

“He’s ruining the master’s great plan.” His fists clenched, his eyes glinting with hatred. After a pause to steady his emotions, he turned swiftly and made his way to the inner palace. Before long, he arrived at a hidden chamber deep within the palace complex. Inside sat a woman, her expression unreadable. Despite her mourning robes, her figure remained impossibly graceful. The black fabric only served to intensify her quiet allure, imbuing her with a sombre, yet captivating, elegance.

“Master,” the man said quietly, bowing low. “The anomaly has begun slaughtering the occupants of the corridors. The fifth passage is currently under attack.”

“Yǐng has failed?” she asked at last, her voice soft and devoid of emotion. Yet even in its neutrality, her tone carried an irresistible charm, like music crafted to seduce the soul.