After landing for several minutes, I was completely dazed, my mind still unclear about what was happening, unsure if I was dead or alive. Suddenly, a sharp liquid surged up from my throat, backflowing into my airway, and I started coughing uncontrollably, blood spraying from my nose and trickling down to my chin.

It took me quite a while, about half a cigarette’s worth of time, to recover, feeling my senses gradually returning to my body. I sat up unsteadily, surrounded by complete darkness, unable to see anything. I felt the ground beneath me, which was covered in dry stones and sand; the bottom of the moat was dry. Fortunately, the stones were relatively flat; otherwise, I would have either died from the fall or injured myself severely.

My gas mask was cracked, and one of the lenses was shattered. I touched it and found that the entire mask had caved in. When I felt the front, I discovered a sharp stone where my face had hit. It seemed that I was lucky the mask had protected me; otherwise, my face would have been badly injured. However, the mask was now completely useless.

I struggled to unfasten the back strap and carefully removed it from my face. As soon as I held it in my hands, it fell apart into four pieces and could no longer be worn.

Without the mask, the sulfur smell in the air around me became even more intense, but after taking a few breaths, it seemed I wasn’t feeling too uncomfortable. It appeared that the toxic gas here wasn’t as severe as Panzi had said, or perhaps the air quality beneath the moat was still acceptable. I cursed under my breath, threw the mask onto the ground, spat out the blood left in my mouth, and looked up.

The moat was at least ten meters high, and the area above was shrouded in gray mist. I could only see the beams of flashlights from Fatty and the others shining down from above, moving around as if searching for me. I could also hear some shouting, but due to the buzzing in my ears from the moment I landed, I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

I tried to shout a few times, but as soon as I exerted myself, a tearing pain spread from my chest to the rest of my body, and my voice turned into a groan. I didn’t even know what I was saying or if I was making any sound at all.

To let Fatty and the others know I was still alive, I picked up the gas mask I had discarded earlier and began to hit it against the ground, making a ‘clap clap’ sound. The noise wasn’t loud, but in the quiet of the moat, it echoed sharply.

After a while, suddenly a cold smoke bomb was thrown down from above, landing beside me. I cursed and dodged it, then saw a head peeking out from the broken edge of the bridge; judging by the size, it seemed to be Fatty.

I crawled over, picked up the smoke bomb, and waved it at him. He immediately saw it and shouted, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying at all. I could only produce a few meaningless sounds. Fatty pulled his head back in, and shortly after, he threw down a rope that swayed down to the bottom of the riverbed. Fatty, carrying an automatic rifle, started to climb down.

Ten meters is about four to five stories high—not too high, but not too short either. Fatty quickly slid down to the bottom, let go of the rope, and first pointed his gun around to check for any movement. After confirming it was safe, he ran over, crouched down, and asked, “Are you alright?”

I said hoarsely and weakly, “It’s nothing? Why don’t you try falling once?”

When the fat guy saw that I could still joke around, he breathed a sigh of relief, whistled up to the top, and soon, Panzi and Shunzi came down carrying their gear.

They helped me up and first sat me down on a nearby rock to lean against. Then they had Shunzi hold me in place while they took out a first aid kit to check my condition.

Seeing the first aid kit made me feel a bit more at ease; I thought to myself that it was a good thing we were well-prepared. Panzi confirmed that I didn’t have any fractures, took out some bandages, and helped to dress the larger wounds. Then he scolded me, “I told you to stop, but you kept jumping. You’re lucky to be alive; otherwise, how would I explain this to Third Master?”

I was furious and retorted, “You’re blaming me? I was already in mid-air when you called to stop! This isn’t a videotape; you can’t rewind it!” Before I could finish my sentence, a sudden sharp pain twisted my chest, nearly causing me to contort in agony.

Panzi was startled and quickly pressed me down, telling me not to move. I gritted my teeth and wanted to curse him again, but the pain was so intense that I couldn’t even speak, only gasping for breath.

The fat guy handed me a water bottle and said, “But you’re lucky to be alive. At this height, with rocks below, most people would definitely either die or be crippled.”

I took the water bottle, thinking that it should be called being “cheaply alive.” I probably survived because I hit those two iron chains; I didn’t know if it was luck or misfortune. Lately, I kept encountering falling from heights, and somehow I always survived—it was really exhausting.

After drinking a few sips of water, I washed away the blood in my mouth, and my throat felt a bit better. I asked him what that thing was earlier, and Panzi said they clearly saw it this time; it was definitely a strange bird, and it was quite large—about the height of a person. Unfortunately, they didn’t hit it, or else they could have seen what it really was.

The fat guy said, “Damn, that’s eerie. The people I saw over by the divine path might have been this thing—a headbird, probably some kind of owl.”

Shunzi looked up and said, “Strange, those strange birds don’t seem to be flying down anymore.”

I also looked up, and sure enough, the invisible pressure from before had clearly vanished, and nothing was diving down anymore. “Is there something peculiar about this place that makes them afraid to come down?”

Panzi hesitated a bit, and the fat guy said, “How about this? I’ll go look around first. If there’s something wrong here, we need to head back up right away. You guys stay here; Xiao Wu, you should rest for a bit.”

I nodded, and Panzi said he would go with me, so the two of us went off in different directions.

Before long, the fat guy, who was searching on one side, whistled for us, as if he had discovered something.

Panzi raised his gun and looked towards the fat guy’s direction. We saw that he had walked far out along the bridge, and the beam of his flashlight was already dim. Within the range of his flashlight, we saw a large patch of black shadows behind him, as if many people were standing in the darkness far away. The shadows intertwined and stretched out in a continuous line, making it impossible to count how many there were.

We all went on high alert; Panzi clicked the safety off his gun, and Shunzi drew his hunting knife. Panzi shouted towards the fat guy, “What’s going on? What is it?”

The fat guy called back, “Come over and see for yourselves!”

Based on our earlier feelings on the bridge, the moat is nearly sixty meters wide and extends deep in all directions. Compared to the river’s absolute width, the place where the fatty is standing isn’t actually far from us, but due to the thick darkness surrounding us, we can’t see what he is illuminating with his flashlight at all. However, from the fatty’s tone, it seems there is no danger over there.

Shunzi looked at me and asked if I could walk and whether we should go take a look. I nodded, and he helped me up. We hobbled along, three of us limping towards the place where the fatty was.

The bottom of the moat was covered with uneven black stones, some of which were quite large. It was clear that the original construction was a massive project. The large area of interwoven black shadows illuminated by the fatty’s flashlight was right beneath the stone bridge above.

After a difficult trek to the fatty’s side, those shadows became clearer. I stepped closer and took the flashlight from the fatty to see what those things were.

At the spot where the fatty stood, the riverbed had a fault, and below this fault was a trench about a meter deep, roughly twenty meters wide. Countless life-sized ancient human and horse figurines, mixed with the remnants of bronze chariots, were arranged within the trench in a continuous stretch. As I approached a few of them, I could see that the surfaces of the human figurines were severely corroded, their faces indistinct and features unrecognizable. Many of the figurines were holding bronze vessels, which were also covered in greenish patches of decay.

Most of these figurines were standing closely together, while many had collapsed and were piled haphazardly. From my vantage point, illuminated by the flashlight, it seemed like the area was filled with these things—a vast expanse of dark shadows at the eerie base of the royal tomb, making it quite spine-chilling.

“What are these things?” Shunzi asked, dumbfounded as it was his first time seeing such sights.

“It seems these are burial figurines, and these are chariot and horse figurines, symbolizing the welcoming party or the procession during the emperor’s outings—” I stammered. “Strange, how the hell did these things end up here? Shouldn’t they be placed in the underground mausoleum or the burial pits?”

The fatty also found this puzzling. He knew this place was a royal tomb, not some childish game. The quantity of items in the underground mausoleum and the arrangement of all the burial goods in the burial pits were quite meticulous, unlike the tombs of ordinary nobles, which could be treated casually. Royal tombs emphasized grandeur and power; piling burial goods in the open like this was akin to a mouse stain on a piece of fine jade—a major taboo. If the emperor were to see this back then, it would surely lead to a family confiscation. Although Dongxia was a hidden little country on the fringes at that time, the renowned Wang Canghai, who built the tomb, would certainly not make such a basic mistake.

The fatty climbed down into the trench, holding his gun in one hand for protection while using the flashlight to illuminate a headless human figurine. He said to me, “The clothing seems to be from the Yuan dynasty, possibly from a minority group.” As he spoke, he reached out to touch it.

I warned him, “Don’t touch anything. These things are mysterious and placed here for a reason; there might be something amiss.”

The fat man scoffed, “What are you afraid of? Do you think they can come back to life?” However, my words had some effect; he withdrew his hand, slung the gun over his shoulder, and with one hand held the flashlight while the other drew the hunting knife from his waist. He jabbed the figure a few times, but it showed no reaction. Turning to me, he said, “Authentic stuff, stone people.”

Panzi, curious, climbed down into the trench and walked over to the fat man. I still felt a bit uneasy and said, “You guys be careful.”

The fat man waved his hand dismissively, indicating he didn’t want to talk to me. He sheathed the hunting knife and attempted to lift the nearest figure, asking, “Xiao Wu, you’re in this line of work. Are these things valuable or not?”

I nodded and told him, “These things have some worth. Not to mention the whole, even just parts can be valuable. I know a terracotta warrior’s head is worth 2 million, and that’s in U.S. dollars. Those horse heads are even rarer than human heads, so their price is hard to say.”

The fat man looked around with a regretful expression, saying, “What a pity, what a pity. These things are hard to carry—”

I still felt it was quite strange that these items should be here. People say that every object in an ancient tomb carries a story behind it. The presence of these items here must have some significance or story attached to them. What was the intention of the designer at that time?

From the distances on both sides, it appeared that these figures were standing in the trench located at the deepest part of the moat. When the royal tomb was newly constructed, these items should have been submerged at the bottom of the moat, hidden from view. The blurred faces of the figures were evidence that they had been long submerged in water. This means that once the royal tomb was completed, the people above would not have seen these things.

What significance was there in placing these figures here? Were they construction waste, defective products? Did the craftsmen lazily dump this rubbish into the moat? It didn’t seem so; they were arranged so neatly, not like a pile of rejects.

It was truly impossible to fathom the thoughts of the ancients. I sighed inwardly; if I hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t have seen what was under the bridge at all. This was a stroke of luck—was it a sign from heaven?

At that moment, the fat man suddenly clicked his tongue and said, “Have you noticed that all the figures here are facing the same direction, making walking motions? It’s quite different from what we see in the market.”

I hadn’t noticed it before, but once the fat man pointed it out, I looked as he suggested, and indeed it was so.

It’s quite common for accompanying burial figures to be arranged facing the same direction; I had never seen such a chaotic arrangement. However, the walking motions the fat man mentioned were indeed very peculiar; I had never seen anything like it. I carefully shone the flashlight on the lower parts of the figures, and suddenly, a strange feeling surged up.

“These figures—” I furrowed my brow and said, “They seem to be marching.”

“Marching?” Panzi looked at me.

I nodded, “From the clothing of the figures on the carts, this appears to be a royal procession. Look at these horses, these carts, and the actions of these people; they are all heading towards the same place. The arrangement of these figures and their motions seem to depict a dynamic scene.”

We all looked in the direction the line of puppets was facing, and saw that this eerie procession extended deep into the darkness of the moat, making it impossible to discern their ‘destination’.