The Chronicles of the Tomb Robbers归档 - 第74页共91页

4 3 月 2025

180 Snake Swamp Ghost City (Part 1) – Chapter 4 – Blood Corpse Ancient Tomb

Driven by instinct, Third Uncle kept digging through the surrounding soil, trying to poke his head out to breathe or grab onto something nearby. However, it was futile; after about two or three seconds, he felt the ground beneath him give way and he slid into some kind of space. Then, a chill enveloped him as he, along with the mud that was covering him, fell into the water.

The icy water washed away the mud from his face, and he coughed and struggled to get up. It was pitch dark around him, and he had no idea where he had fallen. All he could sense was that the area below his waist was submerged in water, and a peculiar, foul odor lingered in the air.

His flashlight was still on, but now that he was in the water, it only emitted a small beam of light. Third Uncle leaned down to retrieve the flashlight, but it flickered and dimmed as it got wet. After shaking it a couple of times, it finally brightened again, although the light was noticeably dimmer.

He shone the flashlight around and discovered he had fallen into a brick chamber. The walls were built of square blue bricks. Looking behind him, he saw a large hole in the blue brick wall, which was evidently the entrance through which he had just slipped.

After surveying the surroundings, Third Uncle understood what had happened. The spot he had been digging was compromised; it seemed to be a hollow space covered by soil. His weight pressed down on it, and there was no support beneath, causing the soil of the entire tunnel to collapse and roll him and the mud into the tomb chamber below.

But who had made the hole in the tomb wall? Had he inadvertently dug into the tunnel that the old man and his crew had used to enter the tomb? Was it really such a coincidence?

Third Uncle pondered this possibility. It indeed seemed plausible; his skills had been taught to him by the old man, and the old man’s skills were passed down from the previous generation. Since tomb raiding techniques had started to decline after the Qing Dynasty, they had essentially been relying on old methods. There had been no substantial development; the locations and methods for digging tunnels had become rigid rules. Disciples taught by the same master would nearly always dig tunnels in the same spots.

But he set those thoughts aside for now. He carefully observed his surroundings. The entrance behind him was completely blocked by fallen soil, and he had no idea where his shovel was buried in the mud. It would be quite difficult to return the way he came, but he wasn’t worried; he had explosives with him. If he couldn’t get out, he could just create a skylight.

The tomb chamber was a proper square with an arched ceiling, adorned with simple reliefs. It wasn’t large, but it was tall, and the water in the chamber reached his waist. The burial goods should be submerged beneath the water, but the dark pool made it impossible to see what lay below.

On the left wall, there was a door, presumably leading to the passage of this ancient tomb. With just this information, it was impossible to determine the dynasty of the tomb or the status of its owner. However, judging by the height of the chamber, it was clear that the tomb’s occupant was not someone of royal or noble rank.

In general, ancient tombs that have burial chambers are not of low status, because in ancient times, there were not many people who could afford brick-structured houses. If bricks were to be used for a tomb, the tomb owner would have to belong to an official class. However, even among the official class, most ancient tombs do not have overly elaborate traps, as their capabilities were limited. Throughout the dynasties, the top craftsmen, especially those who mastered the architectural knowledge of tombs, served only the emperor, and they probably only had the chance to serve once in their lifetime. Many top craftsmen died inside the royal tombs during their construction, which is also why so many things have been lost in China.

Uncle San composed himself and waded through the cold water into the dark passageway. The water was icy and created significant resistance, producing an unpleasant sound with each ripple as he walked.

The floor of the burial chamber beneath the water was uneven, and he nearly stumbled several times. At that moment, he couldn’t think about what he had stepped on. If this was indeed the ancient tomb recorded in the notes, then what he stepped on could be not only the burial items but also the remains of ancestors. This thought was too stimulating; the best way to deal with it was to not think about it at all.

The passageway was about twenty meters long, and he quickly reached the end. Behind the passage was another, larger burial chamber, with no other passageways around. Uncle San knew he had reached the rear hall. As he approached, he saw a stone bed in the center of the chamber, elevated above the water’s surface.

He shone his flashlight on it and couldn’t help but swallow hard, his legs feeling a bit weak. On the stone bed lay a stone sarcophagus, the lid of which had been turned to who knows where. This situation was not uncommon, but what frightened him was that there were two decayed skeletons leaning against the open sarcophagus. Their clothes were tattered, and the bodies had completely rotted, their flesh fused with the stone coffin. From a distance, it was hard to tell their dynasty, but they were definitely not the slaves who were buried alive.

Uncle San stood in a daze for a while, feeling cold all over and not daring to approach. He thought to himself, could these two be his relatives who died in the ancient tomb?

This was not his first time entering an ancient tomb, and he had long developed a mentality of ignoring the corpses within. To him, these corpses were merely objects. However, this time, he might be facing the remains of his own relatives, which filled him with an inexplicable fear, and his heart raced.

He slowly walked up to the stone platform in the center of the chamber, trembling all over, unable to steady his flashlight. He first looked at the stone sarcophagus and saw a patch of dried blood congealed at the bottom. It seemed to be wrapped in silk, but there was no corpse inside. Moving closer to the two skeletons, he saw that they had decayed nearly completely, their heads reduced to skulls, making it impossible to determine if they were his relatives. However, Uncle San noticed that one of the skeletons was holding a box cannon, with several blurred characters engraved on it — “Wu Dagui,” which was his great-grandfather’s name.

Uncle San’s knees buckled, and he knelt down, properly bowing twice. He was not a particularly sensitive person, but this action at that moment seemed to be instinctive.

After bowing, Uncle San glanced at the box cannon, which was already too worn to be used, so he tossed it aside and went to examine the contents of the stone coffin. He put on gloves and reached into the coffin, pressing down on the silk at the bottom.

After pressing, Uncle San realized that the body was not beneath the decaying silk; instead, he felt something ring-shaped beneath a mess of filth at the bottom of the coffin. He reached in to touch it and his heart skipped a beat—it was an iron ring, attached to the base of the coffin.

He placed the flashlight on the edge of the stone coffin, then gripped the iron ring with both hands and pulled hard. With a loud “crack,” one side of the coffin’s bottom board suddenly lifted, revealing a hidden door beneath the coffin.

Uncle San’s heart raced; he hadn’t expected this tomb to have more than one level. He quickly took out a fire stick, intending to throw it into the hidden door below to see what lay beneath. However, just as he reached in, he shone the light on a wrinkled, strange face that suddenly poked out from the hidden door.

4 3 月 2025

179 Snake Marsh Ghost City (Part 1) – Chapter Three – Who Are You?

Uncle San followed the local people’s directions and walked along a little-known path opened by ancient ancestors in the mountains for about four days. About one-third of this path was carved into the cliffs, and he estimated it had been abandoned for hundreds of years. It was likely once a military trail, but now it was overgrown with moss and vegetation, becoming increasingly rough the deeper he went.

The path continued deep into the forest; the outer section was still frequently used by mountain dwellers, but beyond the area known as the Japanese bandit village, the roads became almost entirely untouched, with collapses and overgrowth making progress nearly impossible.

Driven by his stubbornness, Uncle San persevered through this ancient path and reached the other end of the cliff. From his elevated position, he looked down at the valley recorded in his notes, now beneath him. After twenty years of wind and rain, the traces left by his grandfather and others had long since vanished beneath the dense tree canopy. However, a striking red mound of bare earth in the middle of the valley stood out sharply, clearly indicating that this was the legendary Biaozi Ridge.

At the same time, he noticed something strange standing beneath the canopy on one side of the red mound. Due to its color being similar to the tree canopy, he couldn’t discern what it was from his height.

A vague sense of unease washed over him; this was a rarely visited valley, and there shouldn’t be any signs of human construction or activity here. So he climbed a few steps higher and took out a binoculars smuggled from Russia to take a closer look.

Upon closer inspection, he was stunned to see several military tents scattered beneath the tree canopy near the mound. The tents were camouflaged, making them hard to distinguish from a distance. If it weren’t for Uncle San’s sensitivity to subtle color differences and anomalies, he might have missed them with just a glance.

At that moment, Uncle San felt a wave of confusion wash over him. He thought, “How could there be people in this godforsaken place? And they’ve even set up tents. They can’t be hunters; hunters wouldn’t come this deep and wouldn’t have such good equipment.”

Just as he was pondering this, one of the tents suddenly shook, and a person emerged from inside. Uncle San raised his binoculars to take a look, and his confusion only deepened.

The person who came out had white hair and was dressed in a four-cornered hat with golden threads—it turned out to be a foreigner. At that time, Uncle San couldn’t distinguish between the different European ethnicities, but in an era when China was still closed off, there weren’t many foreigners visiting; most were adventurous Americans. So he assumed this foreigner was American.

He thought to himself, “If there are people here, it must be problematic. Not only are there people, but it’s also a foreigner. What are they doing here? Are the Americans here to cause trouble? Or are they here for the ancient tomb beneath Biaozi Ridge?”

Although it was well-known that foreigners were fond of antiques, they wouldn’t come here to dig themselves. They hadn’t seen the old man’s notes, so how could they know there were tombs underground?

This was simply an unfathomable situation, and Uncle San was utterly perplexed.

He climbed down the cliff with questions in his mind and set down his gear. Lightly, he made his way through the underbrush below and approached the area near the tents. He discovered that the camp of these foreigners was located at the edge of a red earth mound, with about four tents, indicating that there likely weren’t many people. Nearby, a few local porters who looked like Chinese were smoking and resting. He also noticed that a large pit had already been dug into the earth mound, covered by a bamboo frame draped with a green waterproof cloth. Since these things were to the north of his line of sight, he hadn’t seen them while he was on the cliff.

The red earth mound should be the burial mound from years past. The soil here must have been treated with some kind of elixir to prevent plant growth, but now that he was up close, he could see that a lot of weeds had grown, clearly showing that the ancients had underestimated the adaptability of plants.

Upon seeing the trumpet-shaped pit, Uncle San immediately understood that the Americans’ purpose was the same as his: they were excavating an ancient tomb. At that time, Uncle San was still young, and seeing this situation, the only explanation he could come up with was that it might be a Sino-American archaeological team here to conduct excavations. This seemed to be the only reasonable explanation at the time.

If it were the Northern faction, at this point, they would have to consider themselves unlucky, as their rules dictated that they should not compete with officials. If they encountered an archaeological team, what could they do? They couldn’t just go up and kill them. But Uncle San was different; he was unwilling to let others get the better of him. Observing the Americans’ excavation techniques and efforts, he realized that these people lacked the experience of local diggers and were likely using their foreign methods for digging public graves to tackle Chinese ancient tombs. This approach would definitely not allow them to access the ancient tomb. If he could find the right spot and dig a hole, he could stealthily retrieve everything before they entered the tomb.

Uncle San returned to where he had come down and retrieved his equipment. By this time, the sun was setting, and in the twilight, he measured the area around the earth mound with his steps, searching for the most suitable spot to dig.

The process was very complex, and Uncle San did not elaborate on the details; he only told me that he was quite confident at the time, with the only concern being the conditions inside the ancient tomb. The holes dug by his grandfather would not last long; they would certainly collapse after a few rainy seasons. He was unsure how far they had progressed at that time—whether they had already entered the inner chamber of the tomb. If that were the case, rainwater might have accumulated inside the tomb, potentially ruining all the burial items except for those in the coffin. Whether the items in the coffin had suffered damage depended on the quality of the coffin and how well it had been sealed at that time.

After night fell, the foreigners’ camp lit a bonfire, and Uncle San quietly waited until they all fell asleep before carefully using his “cat shovel” to begin digging. The cat shovel is a special type of shovel used by local diggers, making very little noise while digging. However, at that time, the sharpness and sound of a military shovel had already surpassed that of the cat shovel, leading to the latter’s decline in use. Nevertheless, at that moment, the cat shovel was the quietest tool Uncle San could use.

Even so, Uncle San was still very nervous while digging, because he couldn’t use the Luoyang shovel to probe the underground situation (any sound would cause a reaction, and for some reason, the sound of the Luoyang shovel hitting the ground would easily scare off wild birds). Therefore, he wasn’t confident that he could find the outer edge of the ancient tomb in one go.

After digging for about two hours and creating five holes, none of which were in the right place, he gradually narrowed down the search area. When he dug the sixth hole to about 6 meters deep, Uncle San’s shovel finally hit something hard. Just as he leaned in to shine his flashlight on it, he suddenly felt something was off. A slight movement came from beneath the soil, and before he knew it, the entire hole collapsed. He didn’t even have time to scream; his mouth and nose were covered by the dirt, and then he, along with the surrounding soil, fell deep into the ground.

4 3 月 2025

178 Snake Swamp Ghost City (Part 1) – Chapter 2 – Unbearable Past Memories

After my third uncle finally regained consciousness, I couldn’t wait to press him for details about the whole incident. I naively felt that I was getting closer to the truth, but unexpectedly, my uncle’s account had to start from fifty years ago, referencing events recorded in my grandfather’s notebook.

I didn’t have my grandfather’s notebook with me this time, but I remembered its contents very clearly. The events that took place that night fifty years ago were bizarre and unusual, yet my grandfather ultimately chose not to document what happened afterward when he fell into a coma from poisoning. We knew nothing of what transpired after that. Now, as I recalled the words in the notebook, I still felt an inexplicable sensation in my heart.

However, when my uncle began speaking, I suddenly found it hard to believe him. My grandfather had always been tight-lipped about this matter. Before he passed away, no matter how much we, his younger relatives, inquired, he never revealed anything. My uncle had a poor relationship with my grandfather since childhood, so I believed my grandfather would be even less likely to confide in him.

As soon as he spoke, I retorted, “Don’t try to fool me. Fifty years ago, my grandfather was still running around bare-assed, and he kept his mouth shut tight. How could you possibly know? Don’t just make up some story to trick me; I won’t fall for it.”

My uncle, displeased, replied, “If I don’t talk to you, you get anxious. If I do, you don’t believe me. Why can’t I know anything? If you don’t believe me, then I won’t say anything. I don’t even want to talk about it.”

Seeing that he was about to backtrack, I quickly said, “No, no, I believe you. I was just expressing my surprise. Please continue.”

My uncle shot me a glance, thought for a moment, and then continued his story.

As I listened, I realized that I had indeed misunderstood him. However, I never expected the events to unfold in such a manner. (My uncle’s account is quite complicated; if I were to write it all down, it would likely fill a book, so here I will only select and summarize the more important parts.)

The origin of the matter lies with that notebook, but the process is much more complex.

Before it came into my possession, the notebook had been stored in a cluttered box in the attic of my ancestral home. It wasn’t until I learned to read and stumbled upon it while rummaging through old items that it came into my hands. My father and my uncle had both seen the notebook when they were younger.

My uncle couldn’t clearly recall when he first saw the notebook; he only remembered that he had already been in the field for some time and had gained a bit of experience. He had heard many strange tales passed down among the elders. He knew about the saying among the local treasure hunters in Changsha: “The earth carries blood, and the corpse carries gold.” So, when he saw the notebook and thought about how he had yet to come across anything particularly valuable, he was immediately drawn in by the contents recorded within.

At that time, he was going through his teenage years, with an impulsive and extreme personality. After reading the records in the notebook multiple times, it almost felt natural for him to develop the idea of going to check out the area near the Biaozi Ridge.

Of course, he didn’t intend to understand what had happened with my grandfather back then; he was simply seeking wealth. Ancient tombs wouldn’t just disappear; they should still be there, regardless of how many years had passed. Additionally, during the early years after liberation, bandits roamed the deep mountains, so not many people would venture into those areas. He believed that there should still be something left in the ancient tomb.

Such thoughts may be hard for us to understand today, but given my uncle’s abilities and insights at that time, it was quite normal. He said that people of his generation all felt this way; when they first entered this line of work, the desire to dig up something valuable and make a name for themselves was extremely strong.

However, “Biaozi Ridge” was just a local name from my grandfather’s childhood. This name could refer to a small mound, an entire mountain, or even an unknown area of pristine jungle, so it was unrealistic to rely solely on a place name to locate that ancient tomb.

So, how could one determine the exact location of that place? My uncle pondered for a long time without any leads until the year before he went to Xisha, when he finally found a clue.

That year, he traveled to his grandfather’s hometown in Changsha, which is in the mountainous region. He walked for four days along mountain paths to reach that remote village, where he inquired about the location of Biaozi Ridge. Although he didn’t obtain direct information that time, he became much more familiar with the local customs and culture.

After returning, he studied the notes again, and things became clearer. Based on other content in his grandfather’s notes, along with memories from eavesdropping on his grandfather’s conversations when he was a child, combined with some information he gathered there, he vaguely deduced that the ancient tomb should be located near Guizhai in Mangshan.

His grandfather had mentioned in his notes that both his great-grandfather and grandfather were bitten by a type of snake called “Iron-headed Snake” while traveling through the Manglin. This snake often coiled beneath bushes, making it hard to spot. At that time, it posed a significant threat, and later, when a campaign against snakes was launched, it was nearly driven to extinction. But that’s a story for another time.

Back then, local folks were born and raised in the wild; when bitten by venomous snakes, they would often just suck out the venom, apply some tobacco leaves, and take a few herbal remedies, as there were no better treatments available. After such treatment, if the bitten person showed no signs of poisoning after a few hours, they were generally considered fine; otherwise, there was usually no chance of recovery, and they had to accept their fate.

The snakes that bit them were small, and the wounds were not deep, so my grandfather and the others didn’t think much of it. After a simple treatment, they felt no particular discomfort and continued on their way. Unexpectedly, after walking two miles, my grandfather suddenly collapsed and lost consciousness.

When they stopped to take a closer look, they saw that my grandfather’s skin had turned blue, and he was convulsing, clearly suffering from snake venom. It was only after my great-grandfather traveled dozens of miles through the mountains to find local villagers that they were able to save my grandfather’s life with herbal medicine.

They rested at that spot for two days, and based on my grandfather’s description of a waterfall at the time, it was certain that they rested at Guizhai.

On the fourth day after that incident, they arrived at the place called Biaozi Ridge. This place is a flat area in a valley surrounded by mountains, with dense mangrove forests and numerous ancient vines, except for a spot in the deepest part of the valley, which had no vegetation, revealing a patch of blood-red bare soil—the ancient tomb lay beneath the valley.

Ironically, the type of snake that bit my grandfather is now an endangered species, with a single adult snake valued at over a million for export, far exceeding the price of ordinary ceremonial vessels.

In this way, the hope of finding it became much greater. Although the original jungle of Mangshan was vast at that time, far more than it is now, with the Guiyu Zhai waterfall located in the central part of the jungle, there weren’t many similar landforms that could be inferred, making them not difficult to find.

Uncle San packed his gear and set off again. He was used to going alone because he was too young, and the older folks were unwilling to go out with him; there was no one of his age who could match his skills.

However, after enduring many hardships and crossing the almost uninhabited jungle of Mangshan, what came into view was a scene he had never even dreamed of…

4 3 月 2025

177 Snake Swamp Ghost City (Part 1) – Chapter One – Uncle San’s Awakening

About a month after the adventure in the Heavenly Palace, I stayed in Jilin to take care of my uncle. This time, I was cautious; I was afraid that if he woke up, he might leave without saying a word. So, I simply stayed in the hospital, living by his bedside.

What happened later proved that my caution was wise, but at the time, others did not think so. After his condition stabilized, there were still no signs of him waking up. His breathing was steady and his complexion was healthy, but there was no mental response. The doctor said this was normal; his wound had become severely infected, and it was uncertain whether the fever had harmed his central nervous system. Whether he could wake up depended on luck.

I had no choice but to wait. During this time, some family members came to visit me a few times, but I refused to go out for meals because I was afraid that if I left the hospital, my uncle might disappear again when I returned. My mother said I was being foolish, but I was very persistent in my thoughts. To be honest, in the more than a month before my uncle woke up, I hardly left his side for more than ten meters.

During the long wait, I also did a lot of things. I had nearly organized all the clues from the Heavenly Palace. After the consultants from Aning Company returned to their home country, they gradually sent me the information they had, including several metaphorical murals taken in the main coffin chamber of the underwater tomb and all the translations of the copper fish, among other things.

Putting all this together, I had gained a complete understanding of the mysteries surrounding Wang Canghai, and my mood gradually lightened. Wang Zangmei could be described as a genius ahead of his time, and now he could rest in peace, for the secrets he painstakingly passed down had been received by someone. Even though I still couldn’t explain the sights he witnessed at that time, since the secret had been passed down, there would eventually be a day when it would be unraveled.

What troubled me the most was the purpose of the “Dumb Oil Bottle” and my uncle. Based on my speculation, the few people who entered the underwater tomb twenty years ago seemed to be searching for the huge door beneath the Heavenly Palace, and they all seemed eager to go inside. I personally witnessed the “Dumb Oil Bottle” entering in a jaw-dropping manner, and among the bodies of Li Si and others in the treasure room, two missing bodies (I don’t know who they were) could also have gone inside.

Why did they want to go in? Or what were they going in for?

All the mysteries converged on what happened in the underwater tomb twenty years ago. Wang Canghai must have left something or some information in his own tomb, which was the reason and key that made them all feel the urge to go to the Heavenly Palace. Unfortunately, I had to wait for my uncle to wake up to get answers.

Additionally, I helped the Fatty auction off six pieces of gold he had brought out. In this event, he made the most profit. The value of these gold items was very high, and one gold cup with a Western Region style and inlaid with agate was auctioned for forty thousand dollars. The Fatty was quite generous and gave me a portion of the money as commission, saying it would go towards the next purchase of gear for the Lama. I swore to him that there would definitely be no next time.

Time passed day by day, and I faintly felt a sense of boredom. In the long wait, my patience gradually wore thin. In the first few months, there were many things for me to deal with, but as time went on, I spent my days staring at the black-and-white photo on my uncle’s computer. I often wondered what that cursed oil bottle was doing now.

Just when I thought I would have to live like this for several more months, an unexpected turn of events suddenly occurred. Looking back, that scene was truly dramatic.

On that day, my uncle’s attending physician suddenly came to find me, saying he had something important to discuss. My uncle’s condition had been very stable for a while, and the doctor hadn’t come to check on him much lately. I was a bit surprised and thought to myself, could it be that my uncle’s condition could change while he lies there motionless?

Anxiously, I followed him to his office, but when I got there, I saw one of the workers from my uncle’s shop waiting for me. I asked him what he needed, but he stammered and couldn’t get the words out. After scratching his head for a while, his face turned beet red.

This worker was someone I was quite familiar with; he was a capable assistant of my uncle. I had never seen him like this before during sales, and immediately I sensed something was off. I thought to myself, this is bad, I’ve been tricked!

I hurried back to the ward and couldn’t help but grit my teeth; my uncle was indeed gone. The quilt on the bed was in disarray. I searched everywhere, under the bed, in the closet, but he was nowhere to be found. It was clear that while I was in the doctor’s office, that old rascal had slipped away!

I was stunned, thinking about how he woke up, when he informed the outside world, and how I hadn’t noticed at all. Then I exploded with anger. I can’t even describe the rage I felt at that moment. Looking at the empty bed and recalling the dullness of the past few months, during which I had dared not leave for a moment, and the hope that he would wake up to answer all my questions, I suddenly felt as if something was blocking my chest, a strong sense of frustration enveloped my entire body!

I slammed my fist down on his hospital bed, making a loud noise. What I couldn’t understand was why he had to hide from me. What was the reason? After everything that had happened, what could he possibly have left unsaid? Was that secret in his heart really so important?

Just as I was filled with frustration, thinking about beating up that doctor or maybe even just ending it all, I suddenly heard a struggle outside the door. I turned around to see my uncle being dragged back into the ward, looking dejected. The person dragging him was none other than my second uncle.

It turned out that when he sneaked out, he happened to run into my second uncle in the corridor. Naturally, he couldn’t admit he was trying to escape from me, so he had to come back looking defeated.

I kept my composure and didn’t expose my uncle. After a bit of casual chatting, I took the opportunity to tell him everything that had happened since he fell into a coma and all my deductions. He didn’t respond much, but his face changed slightly when he heard about the cursed oil bottle going in.

Later, my second uncle left, reminding me to keep an eye on this old rascal. As soon as my second uncle was gone, I immediately pressed him, asking when he had woken up and how long he had been pretending to be unconscious.

Uncle San felt very awkward, but since I had seen through him, he had no choice but to say that he had just woken up and was only getting ready to go to the bathroom. I decided not to hold it against him, as it might actually be true; I couldn’t believe someone could pretend to be unconscious for an entire month—who could endure that? But when I tried to ask him about other matters, he simply gave up and refused to speak, saying it was none of my business.

I got angry and started to scold him, saying, “You old man, do you have any idea how much I’ve suffered because of you? And what about people like Da Kui and Pan Zi, who have risked their lives for you? Shouldn’t you show them some respect? At the very least, let them know why they are putting their lives on the line for you!”

What I said was quite serious, and I was genuinely a bit angry, especially when I thought of how deeply Pan Zi cared for this old man; it left me almost speechless.

Only then did Uncle San fall silent, bitterly laughing several times before sighing and shaking his head, saying, “This matter has nothing to do with you. Knowing it might only cause you more distress. I’m not telling you for your own good, so why bother?”

I shook my head, indicating that if I was distressed, it was my own doing. I had to know the truth about the whole situation; otherwise, I would not rest.

I spoke very firmly, looking directly at Uncle San, making it clear that he could not escape this time and should not entertain any delusions. This was one of the outcomes of my studies over the past few days. I had anticipated such a situation, so I had read many psychological articles on how to get someone to drop their defenses about keeping a secret.

After thinking for a while, Uncle San sighed deeply, as if he had finally made up his mind. Rubbing his eyes, he said, “Ah, I never expected this. They say children are the creditors of their past lives. I thought that if I didn’t have children, I would be fine, but I didn’t expect to involve you in this. It seems today you are determined to know the truth, no matter what.”

I retorted angrily, “How can you still have the face to say that? Do you not know who owes whom? Did you not almost get buried at the bottom of the sea? Did you not almost get eaten by monkeys? Did you…?”

Uncle San made a gesture of surrender and said, “Alright, alright. Since you want to know so badly, I’ll make an exception and tell you this time. However, you must swear an oath that after hearing it, you won’t tell anyone.”

Swearing is something I take lightly, so I immediately swore a terrible oath that my entire family would perish. Uncle San was surprised by the severity of my oath and after a moment, he shook his head and laughed, saying, “Let me make this clear: not everyone can believe what I’m about to tell you. After I say it, if you don’t believe me, there’s nothing I can do.”

I was anxious and coughed, saying, “What is there that I can’t believe now? Just tell me.”

Uncle San sighed deeply, rummaged around in his pocket for a while, and pulled out half a cigarette, not knowing how long it had been there. He looked outside to see if any nurses were around, and after a moment of hesitation, he lit it up and took a puff before saying, “This was a long time ago. To put it simply, the whole thing started with something your grandfather wrote in his notebook, beginning on that night fifty years ago. If you want to know the entire story, I’ll start from there.”

4 3 月 2025

176 Yunding Tiangong (Part 2) – Chapter 46 – After Resting

The doctor from An Ning’s team examined our wounds, administered anti-inflammatory injections and animal disease vaccines, and cleaned and stitched up the long, torn wounds. The injury on the fat guy’s backside was the most severe, making it difficult for him to eat anything other than while lying down.

We were extremely hungry; although there wasn’t much food, their guide assured us that there was a breeze here, indicating that there must be a way out, so we didn’t need to be too anxious. We consumed a lot of sugary food, and gradually, the sensations in our bodies returned—places that hurt felt even more painful, and places that itched felt even itchier, which was quite uncomfortable.

Uncle San was still in a daze, but his high fever had subsided. Panzi wrapped him in a sleeping bag and kept giving him water. The hot spring water was abundant, and we all used it to wash our bodies. The environment here was hardly pleasant, but I felt that washing myself with this water was almost divine.

During this time, I shared everything I had seen without reservation, but the others remained silent, not offering any comments. These foreigners had now witnessed the strange and evil side of ancient Chinese mysteries, and it was probably difficult for them to have any further thoughts on the matter.

One of the animal experts suggested that the monkey-like creatures living in the mouths of strange birds might represent an ancient parasitic relationship, similar to the way a creature might cling to a wolf’s back. The strange bird might be unable to digest food, while the “monkey in the mouth” helps it digest, with the bird relying on the monkey’s feces for sustenance—something quite common in the ocean.

I didn’t express my opinion; everything that had happened upon entering the Cloud Top Heavenly Palace had unfolded too quickly for us to catch our breath. I felt as if I had been dreaming and didn’t want to think about these things any further. However, I privately made an agreement with these experts: if we could survive and there were any developments regarding this matter, we could share resources via email, hoping that in the future, we wouldn’t be in a competitive relationship.

We rested for half a day, and then Panzi led a few people deeper into the crevice to explore. We set off again, continuing our journey into the depths of the mountain’s fissure. The cave expert suggested that this fissure should have an exit to the surface; otherwise, there wouldn’t be any airflow, and the exit would definitely be a wind tunnel.

At that time, I didn’t trust him, but after walking for nearly a day, I suddenly started to feel a sense of familiarity with my surroundings. When the fat guy opened his mouth and pointed to a double-layer mural that had peeled off the side of the crevice, I couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

The exit of this fissure turned out to be the same rock crevice we had hidden in while avoiding the snowstorm on our way up the mountain, which had been sealed off by stones. I saw our leftover supplies inside, and Panzi also chuckled wryly.

When we first came here, we were a large and impressive group, but now we felt like defeated soldiers. The excitement and mystery we had felt while gazing at the double-layer mural and speculating about the secrets of the Cloud Top Heavenly Palace had transformed into an unavoidable bitterness and irony. Moreover, at that time, we could never have imagined that just a few kilometers further into this fissure lay the location of the Nine Dragons’ Coffin. We had made such a huge detour.

This is truly a great irony. I don’t know whether this irony is the last surprise that Wang Canghai left for us or just a tremendous coincidence that even he was unaware of.

After that, we quickly made our way out of the crevice, and for the first time in a week, everyone saw the sun, which was so bright that we could hardly open our eyes.

We had basically run out of food, but we weren’t short on water and still had enough energy, so going a day on an empty stomach should not be a problem. We set a route, and An Ning contacted Dr. Zi and the rescue team via satellite phone, saying someone would be there to meet us on the way.

Following their team, we slowly descended below the snow line, and by the time we encountered the mountain rescue team, we were already outside Ying Shan village.

All the injured were transported by jeep to the nearest hospital for basic treatment before being sent to the Third Hospital of Jilin University. After examination, my uncle was diagnosed with severe concussion and complications from a wound infection, requiring long-term recovery. As for me and Fatty, we only had external injuries, which made me stop envying Panzi’s robust body covered in scars, as I realized I wasn’t much different from him.

Moreover, although I still had no idea about my uncle’s purpose and motives, I felt a sense of pride in having brought him back.

My uncle needed to stay in the hospital for treatment until his condition stabilized. After about half a month of indulging in carefree fun in Jilin, Panzi, Fatty, and a few foreigners each said their goodbyes.

Panzi returned to Changsha, needing a lot of energy to clean up the aftermath, and we lost contact afterward. Fatty went back to Beijing’s Panjiayuan, saying he wanted to rest for a few months, while the foreigners returned to their respective countries. I was left alone, taking care of my uncle and sorting out my thoughts, trying to use the clues I already had to piece things together. However, without my uncle’s part of the information, it was impossible to fully understand the entire situation.

In fact, the mysteries surrounding Wang Canghai had already become quite clear:

First, the Yunding Tiangong (Cloud Top Heavenly Palace) was not built by Wang Canghai but rather remodeled by him. (But who built this enormous site from the Yin and Shang dynasties and for what purpose?)

Second, Wang Canghai did not participate in this remodeling project voluntarily; most of the Han artisans involved in the renovation were coerced from Dongxia. During the renovation, Commander Wang Canghai began designing a nearly cross-mountain escape route between the Little Saint and the Three Saints mountains to avoid being trapped with the alien Wannu King when the tomb was sealed.

Third, during the tomb renovation process, Wang Canghai gradually concealed many secrets deep within the Changbai Mountain, beneath the Dongxia royal tomb. (What did he see inside the bronze giant gate?)

Fourth, Wang Canghai recorded these secrets in the Longyu script, hoping that one day they would be seen by the world.

Fifth, because Dongxia was a small border country with a depleted treasury, many of the rare treasures in the Yunding Tiangong were looted from other tombs. While guiding the Dongxia army in turning over coffins, Wang Canghai secretly hid Longyu scripts within these ancient tombs, hoping someone would discover them. He placed two in total, and the last one was hidden in his own grave before he died.

Sixth, why did he build the ancient tombs underwater? Was he afraid that the descendants of Dongxia would sever this secret?

Seventh, the people who disappeared from the underwater tomb appeared in a secret chamber of the Yunding Tiangong. (Except for two individuals, everyone else has died, but who are these two people? Where did they go? Did they also enter the Giant Gate like the Mute Oil Bottle? Why did they want to go in? What is the purpose of the Third Uncle going to Yunding Tiangong?)

Eighth, the enormous bronze ancient tree, the massive bronze dark door, and the hexagonal bells that appear in several locations—are there any connections among these bronze objects? Do they represent a kind of mysterious power, and what exactly is it?

I gradually realize that everything that happened twenty years ago in the underwater tomb is the key.

The end of the Yunding Tiangong chapter of “The Grave Robbers’ Chronicles.”

4 3 月 2025

175 Cloudtop Heavenly Palace (Part 2) – Chapter 45 – The Riddle That Can Never Be Solved

We took a few steps back and discovered that faint blue mist was rising from the gaps between all the stones around us, and it was happening at an astonishing speed. Almost in an instant, the mist began to swirl around our knees, and a layer of fog seemed to envelop our vision, continuously rising. Soon, the flashlight’s beam was almost ineffective.

Immediately after, we heard a series of antler horn sounds coming from one end of the ravine, echoing melodiously several times. Countless shadowy figures, following the sound of the horns, formed a long line, appearing in the mist at the end of the ravine.

For a moment, I couldn’t react. The people here had either died or fled, and the situation had long since become chaotic. How could so many people suddenly appear? Could there be other groups here? But it didn’t seem like it… there were just too many of them.

The fat guy beside me had turned pale, as if he already knew what was happening. His mouth stammered for a long time before he could say it all: “Yin soldiers borrowing a path!”

Yin soldiers? I was confused and wanted to ask him more, but he covered my mouth and made a gesture indicating that I should absolutely not speak. We put down the flashlight and retreated directly behind a large rock.

The procession walked toward us at a leisurely pace. I even saw the shadow of a flag being waved by the person at the front. The group consisted of four people walking in perfect formation, and they quickly moved from the distant end of the ravine to right in front of us. Under the flashlight’s beam, the shadows in the mist became increasingly clear.

As I watched, I couldn’t help but feel a chill run down my spine. The people at the front of the procession were wearing tattered armor from the Shang Dynasty, holding flagpoles, and someone behind was carrying a horn. Despite the heavy load, they walked as if floating, making no sound and moving extremely quickly. When I looked at their faces, I nearly bit my tongue; each one had an unnaturally elongated face, the length of their heads being about twice that of an ordinary person. All of them had expressionless faces, extremely pale.

The procession passed through us like a ghost, not noticing our presence, and walked straight into the crevice of the bronze giant door. All the soldiers looked identical, almost as if made of paper.

Neither the fat guy nor I dared to speak, hoping these figures would move on quickly. Suddenly, the fat guy’s hand that was covering my mouth twitched. I quickly focused my gaze and saw that the Mummy was also wearing the same armor, walking in the middle of the procession. His normal human face contrasted starkly with the monstrous faces around him, and we recognized him at a glance.

I almost shouted out. Could it be that the Mummy was dead, and his soul had been taken by this group of Yin soldiers?

But then I noticed that behind the Mummy was his black-gold ancient knife, and his walking movements were completely different from those of the Yin soldiers. I immediately realized he was still alive.

What did he want to do? Did he… I suddenly had a bold thought—did he intend to blend in?

This guy is crazy! My heart began to race, a long-lost fear surged within me, and my breathing quickened. I wanted to rush over and stop him, but the fat guy held me tightly, not letting me move.

I saw that the Mummy had noticed us, turned his head slightly, and caught sight of my and the fat guy’s faces. He suddenly smiled meaningfully and moved his lips, saying, “Goodbye.”

He then walked into the giant bronze door and instantly disappeared into the darkness. I stared at him in shock, my mind nearly exploding. Soon, the entire squad of “Yin soldiers” entered the bronze door, and the ground suddenly shook as the massive door closed tightly, forming a solid barrier.

I collapsed to the ground, a wave of helplessness washing over me. What was happening? What did the sealed bottle want? Were those really Yin soldiers? The fat guy ran over to pick up the flashlight and looked at the giant door with a bewildered expression, a bit mentally disoriented.

But there was no time for us to be dazed; the mist around us gradually dissipated, and we soon heard the sporadic calls of strange birds coming from the end of the ravine, growing louder and louder. The fat guy suddenly reacted and shouted at me, “Run! Those birds are coming back, and this time we definitely won’t be so lucky!”

When he yelled at me, it felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over me, and I snapped back to reality. I quickly turned around and followed the fat guy toward the other end of the ravine—the direction where Panzi and the others had escaped.

The stones at the bottom of the ravine were like hills, extremely difficult to climb. We had just crawled a short distance when the calls of the strange birds became very close. I couldn’t help but pray in my heart; if I had to die just now, so be it, but if I escaped one disaster only to die in the same place, that would truly be in vain.

Our wounds had gone from painful to numb. Some say that people forget pain when they are tense, but now I couldn’t even feel my own feet, and I couldn’t run fast enough to grit my teeth. The fat guy and I had no choice but to support each other and push forward desperately, unable to stop; once we stopped, it would be impossible to muster any more strength.

We rolled and crawled deeper into the ravine, and soon I was almost unconscious, not knowing what I was doing. After climbing over a boulder the size of a small hill, we came to a fork in the ravine, where three massive fissures appeared before us. I was a bit dazed—what to do? Which path to take? We had thought the ravine would lead straight through to the exit, where we might meet Panzi. We had no food or water on us, and in this state, even if we could escape through all three paths, not reuniting with them would mean a dead end.

When we reached the fork, we suddenly saw a very ugly arrow engraved on the edge of one of the enormous fissures. The arrow indicated a direction.

The fat guy cursed, “That old Panzi is indeed lazy; he can’t even make an arrow look nice!”

I hadn’t expected they would leave us an arrow. I said, “Forget about that; as long as it’s useful!” Without saying more, I gritted my teeth and squeezed into the gap.

The gap here was much narrower than the ravine, making it difficult for the strange birds to fly smoothly. Once inside, we felt much safer as the chances of being hunted decreased significantly.

Soon, I saw the light of a flashlight ahead, and my heart jolted. I thought to myself, given their pace, they should have run deep by now; how could there be flashlight light here? Had they encountered some unexpected trouble and died here?

Just a few steps later, I saw Panzi and a few foreigners, loaded with ammunition, walking back. It seemed they intended to come back to rescue us. Upon seeing us, Panzi was overjoyed, then stunned, asking, “Just the two of you? Where are the others?”

I said, “Don’t even mention it; it’s too tragic. Hurry up and run; those birds are still following us!”

Here, I can hear the calls, but I can’t see anything in the sky; there are no flares, and using a flashlight to look for the strange bird is futile. Panzi waved and quickly went back. The last person lit a cold firework to lead the way. A foreigner, seeing my injuries, picked me up on his back, and our group quickly retreated to the end of the crevice.

I haven’t been carried by someone for a long time, and it felt quite unfamiliar, but the cold firework illuminated the numerous murals on the rock walls surrounding the crevice, suddenly piquing my interest. Unfortunately, we were moving too quickly to take a closer look.

The desolate calls gradually faded, indicating that the strange bird had begun to give up the chase. In fact, as soon as we saw Panzi, we felt much more at ease, knowing that we were unlikely to die. The people he brought were all sharpshooters from Anning’s team, so even if we did encounter a battle, we wouldn’t be at a disadvantage.

Thinking of Anning’s team reminded me of Anning, and I asked Panzi if he had seen her. Panzi reassured me, saying that the beautiful girl had been knocked out and brought back.

After running for a long time, the crevice became narrower, and eventually, we could only pass through one by one. The air suddenly warmed up, and we slowed down. At that moment, two people appeared ahead; they were the night watchmen. Upon seeing us return, they cheered with joy.

I wanted to ask why the temperature was rising here, but I already spotted several hot springs near Panzi’s camp. Instantly, I felt completely relaxed, and a wave of weakness washed over me, almost causing me to faint right there.

4 3 月 2025

174 Yunding Tiangong (Part 2) – Chapter 44 – The Gap Between Heaven and Earth

Countless “mouth monkeys” pounced on me, tearing at my flesh. I struggled violently, determined not to give up until I had exhausted my last ounce of strength, but deep down, I was already hopeless. In this situation, even if a deity appeared, they couldn’t save us.

Just as I was stubbornly resisting, the ground suddenly shook, and we were all thrown to the ground. The monkeys clinging to me were momentarily stunned, and in an instant, all the monkeys slid off us, desperately fleeing towards a gap in the exit.

I turned to look at the fat guy, and he was experiencing the same scene. The “mouth monkeys” all retreated from the gap as if they had seen a ghost.

The fat guy was covered in injuries, bewildered. We exchanged glances, and he muttered to himself, “What’s going on? Aren’t you going to eat what you caught? Am I too greasy for you?”

The chaos of the “mouth monkeys” wasn’t over. The monkeys surrounding the gap didn’t hesitate, climbing back into the mouth of the giant bird with a human head. The giant bird began to move, taking off into the sky, quickly disappearing as if it had received some command or seen a terrifying enemy, fleeing in a frenzy.

I handed the fat guy the five or six-style gun and told him to load the bullets, then cautiously approached the gap, not daring to go out. I poked my head out to take a look and was instantly dumbfounded. One by one, the head-bird monsters flew into the sky, and soon there wasn’t a single one left around us. It became quiet, leaving just the two of us.

This was really bizarre. I signaled to the fat guy to come out, and we looked around, feeling a bit unaccustomed to this sudden turn of events before death. I thought to myself, “God, even if you don’t want me to die, can’t you find a better reason?”

I muttered to myself, “What are they afraid of? Do these monsters actually have a natural enemy?” Before I finished speaking, the fat guy patted me; he had seen something.

I turned my head and saw that the human skin sealing the giant bronze door on one side had somehow completely burst and fallen off. The two massive bronze doors had actually shifted slightly outward, revealing a pitch-black, narrow gap between them.

My heart raced, and I broke into a cold sweat. How could such a huge door open by itself? That violent shake just now was definitely the reaction from the door opening. Who opened such a heavy door? Who was inside?

According to Wang Zanghai’s account, this underground giant door was described as a passage for an evil god traveling between hell and the ancestors, containing ancient evil within. In short, it was not a good thing. Now that the door was open, could it be that an evil god from hell was preparing to come out for a stroll?

This was an entirely unpredictable scene. In an instant, my mind raced with questions: Was it a monster or a zongzi (sticky rice dumpling)? Should I run or observe? If I ran, which way should I go?

At this moment, my thoughts were surprisingly clear, and I began to admire the resilience of my tortured mind.

However, after the door opened, there was no further movement; the door didn’t continue to open, nor did anything emerge. After standing still for a long time, the fat guy asked me, “Should we go take a look?”

But if we entered and the door closed, such a massive bronze door couldn’t be moved even if a thousand people were here. We would definitely be trapped inside. What value would knowing the secret have then?

This is essentially a choice between leaving here safely or risking it to find the answers. After weighing it back and forth, I still couldn’t endure the mystery that had tormented me for nearly a year. I had to go in and see what kind of scene Wang Canghai had witnessed in the magical realm back then, and what mysterious power lay behind the secret that had entangled our family for three generations.

I glanced at the Fatty, and he shared the same sentiment. The Fatty handed me a Type 56 rifle while he picked up his M16. He scavenged a few magazines from the corpses scattered on the ground and wiped the blood from his face, signaling for me to come over.

The gate was enormous; from a distance, it looked like a narrow gap, but up close, it was wide enough for a truck to pass through. The force required to move a gate weighing tens of thousands of tons even this little distance was unimaginable.

I suppressed my excitement and walked up to the giant gate. I caught a strange smell wafting through the gap, and my heart began to race, a mix of tension and unease growing stronger. Our hands were sweaty, and my legs felt a bit weak.

The Fatty shone his flashlight inside; the beam illuminated the giant gate but then completely vanished, revealing nothing. Wang Canghai had mentioned that when the Dongxia people brought him here back in the day, the first section inside the gate was a void. One had to use a peculiar light source called “the fire of truth.” We speculated that they must have used rhinoceros horn candles to see what was inside.

As I thought about this, I was suddenly taken aback, realizing that we didn’t have such equipment. Even if we went in, we would only see darkness. Would we be able to pass through that void to reach the magical realm?

The Fatty hadn’t thought of this yet. Seeing me frozen, he assumed I was scared again and asked, “Are we going or not?”

Just as I was about to respond, I suddenly saw several lights flickering in the darkness within the crack of the bronze giant gate, as if something was coming out. Just as I was about to pull the Fatty over to look, he grabbed me, and when I turned around, I noticed a faint blue mist rising from the cracks in the stones beneath us, like waves of clouds, rapidly ascending.

4 3 月 2025

173 Cloud Top Heavenly Palace (Part 2) – Chapter 43 – Siege

Countless strange birds surrounded us like sculptures, landing silently and standing without making a sound. Suddenly, I thought of the gargoyles from foreign horror movies, those creatures that are statues by day and turn into animals by night. Could these birds be their prototypes? Moreover, from the looks in these birds’ eyes, they seemed to possess intelligence. Was there some eerie purpose behind their encirclement of us?

My premonition soon came true. Suddenly, a bird swooped down from above us, dropping something that landed with a “thud” in front of us, splattering blood everywhere. To my shock, it was Ye Cheng, his neck had been bitten through, and he was coughing uncontrollably, but his eyes were already vacant—there was no saving him.

Then another corpse was thrown down. I couldn’t tell who it was, but the head was gone, and the body was covered in blood. After Chen Pi Ah Si parted ways with us, he had rushed directly into the royal tomb, clearly also attacked by these strange birds. Ye Cheng must have been captured by this giant bird at the center of the royal tomb. Without the guidance of Uncle Three’s signal, these people had met such a tragic end—something I never could have imagined.

I thought Chen Pi Ah Si would also be doomed, but the next few corpses that were thrown down were all from A Ning’s subordinates. Clearly, not everyone had escaped earlier. Fortunately, I didn’t see Uncle Three or Pan Zi’s bodies, which gave me a slight sense of relief.

At this moment, Fatty was genuinely scared and asked me, “What do these birds want from us?”

I replied, “It seems like they are trying to gather their prey. I’m no expert in this area, so I don’t know what they intend to do. Do you still have any explosives? We might have to learn from Dong Cunrui.”

Fatty shook his head, “All the explosives went to blow up the Ten Thousand Slave King. You didn’t say we should save some.”

I thought to myself, this is a real problem. No matter how much I calculated, I never expected that I, Wu Xie, would meet such an end. Surrounded by birds with no gaps to escape, not even a chance to run—was I really going to die here and become bird droppings?

Just as I was in a state of panic, Fatty suddenly pulled me back, saying, “Being attacked from both sides is too disadvantageous. There’s a rock crevice here; let’s hide in it. One of us can guard each side. We can’t let these dead birds take advantage of us so easily.”

I turned around and saw a gap between two massive rocks in the ravine, just wide enough for one person. It was open on both sides, and while moving inside might be inconvenient, it was an excellent place for defense.

Dying immediately or holding out for a bit longer—of course, the latter was more advantageous. We quickly took off the bullet belts from the corpses and squeezed into the crevice. The space inside was very small; I could still maneuver a bit, but Fatty was struggling. I estimated that if those birds tried to squeeze in, it would be quite a challenge.

Having experienced life-and-death situations multiple times, Fatty was much calmer than I was at this moment. Inside the crevice, he quickly piled up a few stones as cover and said to me, “They can only come in one at a time. As long as we kill a few, we can block the entrance and hold out a bit longer.”

I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. We didn’t have many bullets left, and there wasn’t even time to change them. If the magazine ran out, it would mean our end. However, it wasn’t quite time to die yet; there was still a glimmer of hope.

My mind was still wandering when I suddenly heard the flock of birds outside begin to screech. Through a gap, I saw the leading strange bird suddenly open its mouth disproportionately wide, revealing a mouthful of sharp fangs. Then, from its mouth, it unexpectedly spat out a creature resembling a macaque, which moved with incredible agility, swiftly landing on the ground. It cautiously looked around before running into a pile of corpses and starting to tear into them. Upon closer inspection, I realized that this monkey had no skin and was covered in blood, seemingly an organ of that strange bird.

Soon, other strange birds began to spit out these creatures as well. Countless “mouth monkeys” emerged from the flock, rushing towards the pile of corpses in the center. It seemed there was no class distinction among them; they all rushed in to feed, and in an instant, blood and scattered flesh were everywhere, with conflicts breaking out occasionally over the food.

Both the chubby guy and I frowned, nearly gagging at the sight, thinking about how we would end up like that if we didn’t escape. There were so many “mouth monkeys” that it didn’t take long for the corpses outside to be devoured completely. The stench of blood in the air reached an unbearable level. The chubby guy’s eyes turned bloodshot, realizing it would soon be our turn. He took a swig of white liquor and said, “Damn it, if you want to eat me, let’s see if you have the guts to take me on.”

I was trembling uncontrollably and took the bottle from him, gulping down a large portion, which immediately set my throat ablaze. Alcohol truly is a good thing; the feeling of a man with liquor is so different from one without.

Outside, the “mouth monkeys” were searching through the remains when suddenly one of them noticed us through the gap and let out a strange shriek. The other “monkeys” curiously gathered around, their faces peering in to examine us.

Only then did I see clearly that this “monkey” had no lips, which explained its exceptionally sharp and grotesque fangs. What puzzled me the most was that all the “mouth monkeys” had a bronze hexagonal bell hanging from their necks; some were intact while others were only half there. Yet, these bells made no sound at all as the monkeys moved.

I was terrified at the time and didn’t think much about what it meant, but later I realized that these bronze bells must have a significant connection to the entire mystery, even though they seemed to belong to different cultures.

At first, the “mouth monkeys” were quite cautious, lingering around the cave entrance for a long time. The chubby guy and I dared not make a sound, holding our guns and waiting for them to come in. After a while, a few could no longer contain themselves and suddenly dropped down from the top of the gap, leaping into the opening and tentatively lunging at the chubby guy.

Caught off guard, the chubby guy almost shot right next to the strange monkey’s head. As the bullet flew through, it also sent the corpse flying out, landing in the pile. Then his gun misfired, the bullets sweeping through, and the monkey group erupted into terrified screams, several monkeys instantly torn apart.

Suddenly, all the monkeys turned their attention to us in the gap, and the situation spiraled out of control. The leading “mouth monkey” let out a sharp cry, and all the monkeys began to squeeze into the gap. I swallowed hard, knowing my nightmare was about to begin.

Before I even had a chance to pray, two monkeys leaped into the gap like lightning, hanging from the top of the opening and opening their huge mouths wide at me. The Five-Seven was too long for me to use the stock to smash them, so I had no choice but to kick one out with a flying kick, then shot the other one dead with two bullets, and blood erupted everywhere, splattering all over my face. Just then, another one charged in without any warning. I wasn’t mentally prepared to shoot accurately, so I raised my gun and started to spray bullets.

In the next five or six minutes, I didn’t even know what I was doing; I just saw one fierce monkey after another rushing in, only to be swept away by my gunfire. Blood was splattering everywhere, and the monkeys were completely frenzied, showing no fear at all. Sometimes several of them would squeeze into the gap together, getting stuck, and I would kick them out with all my might. However, more monkeys came rushing in like a tide. Even if they were left with only half a body, as long as they could move, they would still dive into the gap, showing no mercy whatsoever.

Before long, my bullets ran out. I had originally thought I could hold out for at least an hour, but in reality, during the fight, the consumption of bullets was beyond my control. I still had plenty of bullets left, but as long as the monkeys kept charging, we had no chance to reload.

The fat guy’s M16 jammed first. He was already in a frenzy, cursing as he dropped his gun and pulled out his knife, wanting to engage in hand-to-hand combat. But the monkeys didn’t give him that chance; in an instant, five or six of them had jumped onto him, biting him fiercely. The fat guy screamed in pain, killing two of them with his hands, but four more immediately pounced on his face.

Next, my Five-Seven also ran out of bullets. I pulled the trigger, and it clicked “click, click” several times. My heart sank suddenly, and then several flashes of red light rushed toward me. Before I had time to draw my knife, I felt pain in my shoulder and the inner thigh of my leg. Instinctively, I tried to scare them off with my injured hand, but it was useless. In the midst of the struggle, one thought remained in my mind: Wu Xie and Wang Fatty, I’m afraid we will never walk out of the secret realm of Changbai Mountain again. No matter how tough we are, we all have a day when our lives come to an end.

4 3 月 2025

172 Yunding Tiangong (Part II) – Chapter 42 – Thousand-Handed Avalokiteshvara

The illumination flare in the sky extinguished, and darkness quickly enveloped the area. Panzi immediately fired another flare, lighting up the night. Then, everyone below opened fire, and dozens of tongues of flame shot up into the sky. Soon, several of the flying shadows in the celestial realm were hit and fell from the sky.

The bright light could create a temporary illusion, much like how a bear might confuse a person for a duck when you mimic a duck’s quack and waddle in front of it. But this was only temporary. If I remembered correctly, this was our last illumination flare.

With so many strange birds around, once this flare went out, we would face the ruthless slaughter in the darkness. The bizarre birds flew lower and lower, some even swooping right over our heads. We didn’t have enough bullets for such intense firing, and soon several guns ran out of ammunition. The situation for the fat guy was extremely critical; if no one went to save him, no matter how tough he was, he’d be done for this time.

Just when I was at a loss, the fat guy shot right at my feet, startling me. I looked up at his lips and understood he was signaling for us to run!

I made up my mind and said to Panzi, “You take Uncle San and the others to run to the end of the ravine. This is their nest; they must be flying out to forage along the ravine. Just follow the direction they came from and keep running. Don’t worry about me; I’m going to save the fat guy!”

Panzi grabbed me and said, “Are you sure? What if I go save the fat guy and you take Uncle San away?”

I replied, “I can’t carry that old man!” I raised my hand to show him my wound. “I’ve got precious blood; I’ll be fine!”

Seeing my wound, Panzi felt a bit reassured. He nodded firmly and said, “Be careful; we’ll wait for you outside!” He then picked up the immobile Uncle San and shouted to the others, “Follow me and run!” and retreated toward one side of the ravine.

I caught the gun Panzi threw to me, and with a “click,” I checked the bullets—three rounds. Damn, that was generous. Others were running past me, shouting for me to keep up, but I ignored them. At that moment, I saw An Ning standing still, her face pale but not moving.

I went up and tapped her to hurry away, but she shook off my hand and, with a “click,” raised her gun, seemingly with some plan of her own.

I knew it was pointless to persuade someone like her, so I ignored her and ran toward the stone platform with my gun raised.

Fortunately, even in such a chaotic environment, the enormous centipedes lurking around the coffin platform remained dormant. Perhaps after so many years of slumber, these giant insects had long since perished.

At this moment, I couldn’t care less about anything else and shouted, “Fat guy, give me your Type 56 bullets! I’ll cover you!”

The fat guy had a Type 56 gun and was loaded with Type 56 bullets, but he hadn’t brought his gun while climbing to lighten his load, so he was using Kirk’s M16 instead. However, the M16 didn’t have many bullets left, and if he ran out, he’d be finished up there; only by getting to the ground would he have a slim chance of survival.

The fat man heard me call him and immediately held his gun in one hand while using the other to tear off a few bullets and throw them to me. I caught one, discarded the others, loaded the magazine, raised the gun, and started shooting. Under my fire cover, the fat man frantically crawled along the chain until he reached the spot where he had climbed up, then he quickly slid down and waved at me to run.

I turned to look for An Ning, but she had vanished, and I didn’t know whether she had run away or had been snatched by the monstrous bird. I couldn’t help but sigh internally about why such a stunning beauty had to be so persistent. Then I looked at the coffin platform and saw that the coffin lid had been flipped to one side, revealing a gigantic black male corpse standing up, dressed in faded and decayed Jurchen armor. To my astonishment, this male corpse had twelve hands arranged in a circular pattern behind it, all of which were twisting and moving, resembling the thousand-handed Guanyin in a temple.

I immediately recalled the twelve-handed wax corpse I had seen in the underwater tomb and was filled with shock. Could it be that the royal family of Dongxia was not human? Was this twelve-handed male corpse the legendary Wan Nu Wang?

While the fat man fired bursts to fend off the diving monstrous birds, he came over to pull me and shouted, “What are you daydreaming about?”

I ignored him and said, “Look… what does he want to do?”

The thousand-handed Guanyin corpse was moving its twelve hands but showed no interest in us. It quickly jumped down from the stone platform and walked straight towards the bronze giant door.

The fat man exclaimed in surprise, “Could it be that he wants to enter the giant door?”

I suddenly remembered the last line of the inscription on the dragon fish in Wang Cang Hai’s tomb: if the timing is wrong, opening the underground giant door would incur divine wrath, and the hellfire from below would pour out through the giant door, burning the entire sky.

At that time, we thought this prophecy of disaster was merely Wang Cang Hai’s imagination after entering the giant door and seeing the volcanic interior, but it was also possible that the creator of this bronze door had set up some powerful mechanism to prevent the secrets inside from being discovered.

At this moment, we were right in front of the bronze giant door. If there were any mechanisms, we would certainly be the first to bear the brunt and become the first batch of victims. Regardless of whether it was true or not, we had to stop this grotesque corpse.

I chased after the thousand-handed Guanyin corpse and fired several shots, but the bullets hitting the corpse felt like they were hitting rubber—neither penetrating nor exploding, as if they had fallen into the sea of mud, with no reaction whatsoever. The most infuriating part was that it showed no reaction to us at all. I shouted to the fat man, “Explosives!”

The fat man suddenly remembered that he still had a few detonators on his waist that he had planned to use to threaten An Ning and the others. He rushed forward, leaped onto the back of the thousand-handed Guanyin corpse, and stuffed the detonators into the corpse’s mouth like a black donkey’s hoof before quickly jumping down.

I squinted and fired a burst, not knowing which bullet hit the detonator’s fuse, but suddenly the detonator exploded, and the head of the thousand-handed Guanyin corpse, along with part of its shoulders, was blown apart. The shockwave knocked us to the ground, and debris and shockwaves hit us in the face, making our chests feel heavy and our ears ring with buzzing sounds.

The monstrous birds above were stimulated by the intense sound waves and went completely mad. I hurriedly got up and saw that the thousand-handed Guanyin corpse had fallen to the ground, and I couldn’t help but feel overjoyed—indeed, explosives were invincible!

I never expected that the fat guy would look so terrified and shout at me. I couldn’t hear anything, only saw his mouth moving rapidly. After a long time, I finally understood: “Run! The illumination flare is going out.”

Before I could react and start running, the light above us suddenly disappeared within seconds, and darkness enveloped us like a thick fog. Instantly, the only light left was from the flashlights in our hands.

The surroundings fell eerily silent; the gunfire from those who had fled into the depths of the ravine gradually subsided, leaving only the sound of our heavy breathing and heartbeats that echoed like thunder.

The fat guy and I leaned back against each other. I unwrapped the bandages on my arm, revealing a bloody wound, praying that my blood would be of some use. Didn’t that professor say that this Kirin blood only works on things that eat corpses? I had no idea what this strange bird fed on. The fat guy raised his gun, and with a click, he loaded a bullet. He looked up at the sky and asked me what to do.

I replied, “If you ask me, who should I ask?” Just as I finished speaking, a strange bird suddenly fluttered down, landing about ten meters in front of us. This bird was enormous, standing taller than I was. After landing, its ugly head turned a few times before it fixed its gaze on us, seemingly assessing the two of us. I caught a glimpse of its sharp teeth glinting in the dim light and quickly raised my hand, presenting my wound to it, but the strange bird showed little reaction, remaining expressionless and still.

Then, two more strange birds flew down, one landing to our left and the other behind us. I turned my wound towards them, unsure of their intentions.

Gradually, more and more strange birds descended, one after another, until we were surrounded by them. Yet, none of these birds moved; they formed a dark mass around us. I began to sense something was wrong; these birds seemed completely uninterested in my blood, and their lack of immediate aggression suggested some kind of conspiracy.

4 3 月 2025

171 Cloud Top Heavenly Palace (Part 2) – Chapter 41 – Spy Within a Spy

Seeing the nine massive centipedes coiled on top of the coffin at the bottom of the rift, despite being completely still, we still felt an immense pressure. One by one, our faces turned pale as we retreated while raising our weapons.

The Chinese expert said, “There’s no need to be so tense. It’s winter now, and the temperature here is still low. The centipedes are in hibernation, so these giant creatures won’t wake up easily.”

A Ning replied, “Even if they don’t wake up easily, there’s still a chance they could. We would make perfect winter snacks for them.”

The fat guy’s murderous intent flared up again, saying, “Who cares if they wake up or not? I’ll sneak up and shoot a few rounds at their heads. Even if they were ten times bigger, they’d be dead in no time. Then we can see whether this ageless King of Ten Thousand Slaves that crawled out from the ground is human or a monster.”

Panzi waved his hand and said, “Absolutely not! Do you remember what Shunzi said? A dead centipede can wake up its hibernating companions. This rift connects the entire Changbai Mountain range. Do you know how many centipedes are inside? We might end up provoking even bigger creatures to come out and avenge their kin.”

I raised the night vision binoculars, wanting to take a closer look. Such large centipedes might be fossils of ancient insects; I simply couldn’t convince myself that they were alive. As I lifted them, I noticed that on the shadow wall behind the coffin, what had previously been unclear was now revealed to be many characters in Jurchen script. I was immediately stunned and my heart raced with excitement.

The text on the shadow wall was extensive, and a concentration of so many characters must indicate some narrative content. In the buildings constructed by Wang Canghui, text was rarely found, but here there was so much that it was likely one of the most precious pieces of information in the ancient tomb—the owner’s inscription.

I hurriedly pulled over the short guy under A Ning who could read Jurchen script, handed him the binoculars, and asked him to help me decipher what was written.

The short guy looked at it, his face filled with confusion. He said that while these characters resembled Jurchen script, they were not Jurchen characters but another type of script from the same language family. He couldn’t decipher it right away.

I felt disheartened again, cursing under my breath that this King of Ten Thousand Slaves was too cunning, leaving no flaws for me to exploit.

It was no wonder that someone as scheming as Wang Canghui, who had been here for twenty years and directly participated in the transformation of the ancient royal tomb, could not uncover the core secrets that the Ten Thousand Slaves dynasty wanted to hide. The King of Ten Thousand Slaves had set an insurmountable barrier, let alone us who were relying on guesswork.

It was a pity that Master Hua was not here. He had immersed himself in this for many years and had unique thought processes that others lacked. If he were here, he might have been able to shed some light on the situation.

But then I thought it was wrong; if Master Hua were here, the complexity of the situation would be beyond my control.

One moment I had one thought, and the next moment it was another; my mind was a jumble. Meanwhile, I heard Panzi calling out, “Fatty? Are you okay? Should we switch?”

I hate hearing Panzi call Fatty’s name. My heart skipped a beat, and I looked up to see Fatty and Kirk carefully climbing up a chain, walking above the coffin. Fatty was tying a rope around his waist, probably intending to hang down from the chain like Tom Cruise, suspended above the coffin. Surprisingly, no one stopped him; they were even directing him on where to position himself.

I asked Anning what was going on. Were they preparing to watch a show like “The Nine Dragons and the Fat Pearls”? Anning replied, “It’s nothing. Generally speaking, this method won’t disturb the centipedes in hibernation. I just noticed that the centipedes’ tails are locked to the stone pillars beneath the stone platform with bronze chains, so their movement range is limited. Only those who walk close to them are in danger. They all came here to see what’s inside the coffin of the King of Ten Thousand Slaves. Now that they’ve found the coffin but can’t look inside, no one can resist.”

I said that even if Fatty could hang down, he couldn’t lift the enormous stone lid of the coffin. Anning said, “He’s not trying to lift the coffin lid; he’s going to wedge the coffin-opening hook into the gap of the coffin. We’ll hang a pulley from one of the bronze chains above, and then we can lift the coffin lid from here.”

I felt very uneasy. Anning was still fulfilling her company’s obligations, searching for something inside the coffin. Even at this stage, she hadn’t given up. Although I didn’t know what she was looking for, I felt there was no reason for anything to be more important than one’s own life. Moreover, there were so many bronze chains above the coffin; Wang Zanghai wouldn’t have overlooked their tricks when designing it. There must be something suspicious that made him think there was no need for precautions. Fatty, acting foolishly as the vanguard, clearly wanted to be the first to open the coffin and reap some benefits. I had to stop him.

No one knew what had happened to Kirk. Fatty was adjusting his bungee-jumping position when he saw Kirk jump even faster than him, and he froze, at a loss. Suddenly, he also flew up into the air, flailing his arms and legs, spiraling around before dropping straight down. Fortunately, he had a rope around his waist, and just as his head was about to hit the coffin, the rope snapped taut, stopping him just above Kirk’s corpse.

I nearly fainted; the sight was too bizarre. Was there something on the chain that pushed them down? Realizing this, I quickly shouted to the stunned Panzi, “Flare! Everyone, get your weapons ready!”

Everyone immediately reacted. We didn’t have time to worry about Fatty anymore. Panzi fired a flare into the sky, which exploded. Instantly, we saw countless shadows swirling above our heads, with several already hanging upside down from the chains, curiously watching us, the intruders in their nest.

It turned out that those strange birds had silently begun returning to their nest. I even saw a few among the flying creatures clutching something, clearly having caught prey. I raised my hand, signaling those who were almost ready to shoot to hold their fire.

These strange birds are nearly blind; under such intense light, they can’t see us at all. However, they are very sensitive to sound. It was only when we fired a shot in the front hall that a large number of these strange birds flew in from all directions. Clearly, these creatures, living in the pitch-black underground volcanic crater, have long adapted to life in darkness.

I had warned everyone not to shoot, yet there were still people firing their weapons—not just one shot, but a continuous burst of gunfire. The sound echoed loudly in the vast canyon, resonating through the skies, and chaos erupted above as countless shadows began to dive down.

I turned with an angry glare to see who the idiot was that disobeyed orders, only to find the fat man on the stone platform trying to climb the rope. He had taken Kirk’s M16 and was now firing repeatedly at the coffin below.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the enormous coffin of the King of Wannu had somehow opened a crack, and three violet-blue appendages, resembling arms—yes, three of them—were reaching out from the coffin, their long claws swiping through the air, trying to grasp the fat man above.

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180 Snake Swamp Ghost City (Part 1) – Chapter 4 – Blood Corpse Ancient Tomb

179 Snake Marsh Ghost City (Part 1) – Chapter Three – Who Are You?

178 Snake Swamp Ghost City (Part 1) – Chapter 2 – Unbearable Past Memories

177 Snake Swamp Ghost City (Part 1) – Chapter One – Uncle San’s Awakening

176 Yunding Tiangong (Part 2) – Chapter 46 – After Resting

175 Cloudtop Heavenly Palace (Part 2) – Chapter 45 – The Riddle That Can Never Be Solved

174 Yunding Tiangong (Part 2) – Chapter 44 – The Gap Between Heaven and Earth

173 Cloud Top Heavenly Palace (Part 2) – Chapter 43 – Siege

172 Yunding Tiangong (Part II) – Chapter 42 – Thousand-Handed Avalokiteshvara

171 Cloud Top Heavenly Palace (Part 2) – Chapter 41 – Spy Within a Spy

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分类目录归档：The Chronicles of the Tomb Robbers