147 Yunding Tiangong (Part 2) – Chapter 17 – Gate Hall (1)

Shunzi was taken aback, not knowing what was going on. It wasn’t just him; everyone else was also momentarily stunned, unsure of what Chen Pi Ah Si was up to. For a moment, I even thought that Chen Pi Ah Si wanted to send us away and kill Shunzi to silence him. But then I realized that didn’t make sense. First, he was over 90 years old; to kill a retired, strong young soldier, even with a sneak attack, would not guarantee success. Second, our escape route depended on Shunzi, so he probably wouldn’t take this opportunity to kill him.

I didn’t quite understand Chen Pi Ah Si’s actions, so I tapped Shunzi to remind him to be careful. Shunzi looked at me for a moment, then followed Chen Pi Ah Si. We quickly turned back and continued to run along the divine path. Fortunately, we had shed a lot of our gear; otherwise, with such intense physical exertion, I doubt anyone could endure it.

This divine path had a total of six stone gates, representing the six realms of reincarnation in Han Buddhism, while the Jurchen people believed in shamanism, and traces of Han design were everywhere. I was running so fast that I started to feel a bit dizzy, and the exposed skin on my body began to itch, indicating that the air around us was indeed not good.

Before I knew it, the beam of my flashlight illuminated some black, broken eaves and walls, and soon we reached the altar at the end of the divine path. Behind the altar, on the sixty crumbling stone steps, was the main gate of the imperial tomb.

In traditional burial customs, the terms “tomb” and “mausoleum” are often confused. In fact, they refer to two different things: a mausoleum is an above-ground structure used for rituals and funerals, while a tomb refers to the underground burial chamber. Mausoleums and tombs do not necessarily have to be located together; many tombs are thousands of miles apart. For example, Genghis Khan’s tomb is located in the central part of the Ordos grassland in Inner Mongolia, but the coffin inside the mausoleum only contains the camel hair that bears Genghis Khan’s soul. The location of his body and burial goods remains unknown.

The Heavenly Palace on the Cloud has a three-tiered structure. The palaces we saw above in the underwater tomb are symbolic spiritual palaces, while the underground imperial tomb and the royal tomb beneath it form a triad of worlds, symbolizing the changing identities of gods, humans, and ghosts.

The architectural style of the entire imperial tomb is very similar to that of the Ming Palace. When viewed from the cliffs, its grandeur and imperial aura are overwhelming, and the extensive use of black stone adds an eerie and mysterious quality to its splendor. However, once we entered the mausoleum, that feeling vanished, replaced by desolation and decay. If it weren’t for some large buildings resembling temples still standing, we would have been quite disappointed.

The air here is stagnant, and there is no wild wind or sunlight; the buildings should have been well-preserved, so how could they be in such a state of ruin?

We stepped onto the enormous steps of the mausoleum, wide enough for ten horse-drawn carriages to pass side by side, and entered the main gate of the imperial tomb. The massive gate had long since collapsed, and the huge door panel, covered in protruding nails, lay on the ground. We walked in as if we were completely unconcerned.

Upon entering the main gate, we found ourselves in the gate hall of the mausoleum. According to ancient burial texts, the imperial tomb section describes the four dragon towers and the nine-tailed celestial chariot entering the underworld. This was the first hall within the four dragon towers. At this point, I felt an unbearable burning sensation in my mouth and nose, urging them to hurry up.

The gate hall is roughly the size of two basketball courts, with bronze chariots on either side welcoming the emperor. Against the deep wall at the back, there are two black statues on each side, already covered in dust. The statues have fierce faces, with cold, angry eyes, resembling totems of shamans. The supporting beams above have collapsed, and tiles are scattered all over the ground. Fortunately, it doesn’t rain here; otherwise, it would have been flooded long ago.

Seeing that there was nothing particularly eye-catching, we decided to pass through the gate hall and head towards the center of the royal tomb. After taking just a few steps, suddenly the fat guy slipped, not knowing what he had stepped on. “Ouch!” he exclaimed, falling flat on his back. The floor of the gate hall was covered in broken tiles, and this fall nearly cost him his life; he was in so much pain that he was gritting his teeth.

I found it strange; with a ground like this, tripping could be explained, but how could he slip? The fat guy also felt puzzled. While holding his backside, he walked back to check the spot where he had stepped.

There was only a mark left from where he had fallen, and whatever he had stepped on had disappeared. Following the mark, he flipped over a few tiles, but found nothing.

“Could it be a ghost tripped you?” Panzi asked the fat guy.

The fat guy shook his head, suddenly sensing something. He waved for us to stop, squatted down, and flipped up one of his hiking shoes.

We gathered around to take a look and found that a bullet casing was lodged in the spikes of his shoe.

Everyone’s expression changed. Panzi took it, smelled it, and immediately thought of his gas mask. He squeezed it with his hand and said, “It’s warm; damn it, it must have been fired not long ago.”

“Has someone arrived before us?” I was taken aback. Could An Ning and the others be so capable as to get here before us?

But why would they fire a gun here?

“Light a fire and see what else is around,” Panzi said.

Hua the monk quickly lit a cold smoke fire, providing ample illumination. We looked around; the inside of the gate hall was in chaos. We spread out, and soon we discovered a series of bullet holes on a column, shooting straight up.

“It looks like something came down along this column, and the bullets followed it down,” Panzi said.

He walked over, examined the bullet holes, dug a little, and shook his head. “No, it’s the opposite. Looking at the angle of the bullet deviation, the gun was aimed upwards along the column.”

The fat guy shone his flashlight on the bullet holes, inspecting them one by one, and eventually, he traced it up to a high beam. We quickly spotted a dark figure hanging from the beam.

From the posture of the shadow, it appeared to be a dead person, seemingly one of An Ning’s team, as I could see an old Type 56 rifle slung over his shoulder, the whole body hanging limply.

Everyone was startled, not understanding how this person could have died hanging from the beam. We shone our flashlights over to see the person’s face. The deceased was a man, wearing a small nasal inhaler-type gas mask (this was very advanced, lightweight, and more effective than the ones we were wearing; I only heard about this thing before, and I never expected to see it today). Judging by his facial features, he seemed to have Slavic ancestry, but it was unclear how he had died; his eyes were wide open, but due to the mask, we couldn’t see his expression.

The corpse was hanging from a beam by something; it was too far away to tell if it was a rope. A few people wanted to climb up, but they were stopped by Panzi. The way this person died was so strange that it definitely raised suspicions. At that moment, the胖子 (the chubby guy) patted me on the shoulder and pointed to other parts of the beam: “Everyone, there’s not just one.”

We looked over and saw six or seven more corpses hanging from other parts of the beam, suspended in mid-air like they were hanged ghosts. These individuals were all dressed in mountaineering gear and were equipped with domestically-made Type 56 rifles. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease; the Type 56 rifle has strong destructive power, and with such a weapon in hand, even a zongzi (a type of dumpling) wouldn’t survive more than a dozen bullets. What could have killed them? And even if there had been a gunfight here, how did these corpses end up on the beam?

The more I thought about it, the more I felt something was off. This place was not suitable for staying any longer. I called out to a few people to hurry through the door; this place was eerie.

But when I turned around, I realized the胖子 was missing. I shone my flashlight around and found that he had somehow climbed onto one of the statues and was making his way up to the beam.

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