Three days later, Xing Yuanche and Ma Rao stood before the Sanxingdui archaeological site.
This place is far more desolate than they imagined. The massive sacrificial pits have already been excavated by archaeological teams; bronze masks, sacred bronze trees, ivory, and jade artifacts have all been recovered and sent to museums. What remains are neatly defined excavation squares and warning signs scattered throughout the site.
Is this it?" Ma Rao looked around. "Looks pretty ordinary."
"The slate never lies." Xing Yuanche held up the slate, where a red dot was faintly glowing. "It's right beneath us."
They slipped past the patrolling guards and found a secluded corner. Xing Yuanche closed his eyes, sensing the faint pulse emanating from the stone slab. The sensation was strange, as if something deep underground was calling to him.
"Here." He crouched down, placing his hand on the ground.
Ma Rao looked at him, concerned. "Can you handle this? The soil here is very hard."
Xing Yuanche said nothing. He closed his eyes and drew upon the power within him. As a Star Gazer, his strength came from the cosmos—from those distant, eternal lights. But now, he would channel that power to pierce through the earth.
The ground began to tremble slightly.
Ma Rao instinctively stepped back, feeling the soil beneath her feet give way. Then, directly where Xing Yuanche's palm pressed, the ground cracked open. The fissure widened, revealing a dark void below.
"There's wind." Xing Yuanche opened his eyes, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "There's air below."
They cautiously entered the fissure. The passage ran deep and sloped downward, its walls marked by chisel cuts from human hands, with rough stone steps appearing every few paces. After about fifteen minutes of walking, the tunnel suddenly opened up ahead.
It was a massive underground space.
The dome soared dozens of meters high, its walls covered in murals. The images stunned both of them: these were not the familiar sacrificial scenes of ancient Shu, but...
Spaceship.
A colossal triangular spaceship descends from the sky, and countless tiny figures kneel on the ground. The ship's hatch opens, revealing not people but glowing beings. They extend their hands, touching the kneeling figures, who then begin to glow.
"This is my first time..." Xing Yuanche murmured.
He approached the wall and reached out to touch the ancient pigments. Though cracked and dry, the colors remained vivid, as if recounting stories from three thousand years ago.
"Look here." Ma Rao pointed to another mural.
A group of people stands before a massive gate leading into an endless starry expanse. One among them, marked with a red dot on their forehead, raises their hand to summon the stars. Their posture is solemn and dignified, as if conducting a sacred ritual.
"That person..." Ma Rao pointed at the mural. "He looks just like Master Qingmingzi."
Xing Yuanche stepped closer to examine the painting and shook his head. "This isn't Master Qingmingzi. It's an earlier Star-Scarred one. Look at their attire—it doesn't match our generation's style." He pointed to the figure's robe. "I've seen this design in ancient texts; it dates back three thousand years."
They ventured deeper. The murals grew increasingly dramatic: some, empowered, soared into the sky, moved mountains and filled seas, or summoned lightning. Others, however, grew greedy, craving even more power. They clashed with the luminous figures, sparking a war.
On the mural, the massive star gate is forcibly opened, and countless shadowy figures pour out. These shadows are grotesque in form, with six arms, armored bodies, and blood-red eyes.
"The Moon-Eater." Xing Yuanche's voice grew grave. "They were here three thousand years ago."
The final mural depicts a group working together to close the Stargate, but at a great cost. The glowing figures vanished, and most of those who gained their power perished. Only one woman remained, sealed within a crystal sphere, forever asleep.
Below the mural, an inscription in ancient script is carved.
"Chan Dan." Ma Rao read the inscription aloud. "The last priest of the ancient Shu Kingdom."
"Chan Dan..." Xing Yuanche repeated the name. "The 'Records of the King of Shu' state that Chan Dan was the founding monarch of ancient Shu. So she wasn't a ruler—she was a priestess."
They continued forward. At the end of the corridor, a massive circular hall appeared.
A giant crystal orb hovers in the center of the lobby.
A crystal sphere over three meters in diameter, completely transparent and radiating a soft glow. Inside it, a woman dressed in ancient Shu attire sits with her eyes closed, expression serene. Her long hair cascades like a waterfall, her features exquisitely delicate, as if she were merely asleep.
"She's still alive?" Ma Rao couldn't believe it, her voice trembling.
As soon as the words were spoken, the crystal ball suddenly glowed.
The light grew stronger and brighter. Slowly, the woman's eyes opened.
Those were golden eyes, their pupils deep as the starry sky, as if holding three thousand years of history.