“In the past few years, I have accumulated quite a bit of experience in dealing with antiques and rubbings. This business really tests your judgment; you need to be good at assessing both objects and people. The moment I saw this fat guy, I could tell he wasn’t a straightforward person. Trying to get information from someone like him, it’s better to provoke him than to flatter him. So, I pretended not to believe him at all and said, ‘What are you talking about? If you really knew something, would you be running around here like a headless chicken?’

Sure enough, the fat guy took the bait. He shone a flashlight on my face and said, ‘You little rascal, you still don’t believe me? Before I, Fat Master, came here, I did over a month of preparation work. Do you know what the Lu Shang Wang is all about? Do you know what borrowing Yin soldiers means? Do you know what the ghost seal is for?’ Seeing that I didn’t respond, he smirked proudly and said, ‘Let me tell you, the Lu Shang Wang, in nicer terms, is called a general, but to put it bluntly, he’s just a grave robber like us.’

Suddenly, I remembered that my third uncle had said something similar, but I didn’t quite understand how they figured it out. The fat guy continued, ‘But they are more powerful than us; they’ve even been made kings for their grave robbing. Historical records state that the troops of Lu Shang Wang mostly rested during the day and marched at night. They often vanished completely and then suddenly appeared in another place. Moreover, the places they visited were often described as ‘many graves in ruins; when asked, they would say Yin soldiers had all emerged.’ You tell me, how could we, the materialist proletarian revolutionaries, possibly believe that there are such things as Yin soldiers? They must have been digging graves and robbing tombs everywhere. If they were discovered with disturbed grave soil, they would just say that Lu Shang Wang borrowed the souls of these tomb owners, and thus the story of Yin soldiers spread far and wide. People back then were very superstitious about this, and it became a legendary tale over time.’

I wasn’t fully convinced and said, ‘Isn’t it a bit arbitrary to draw such conclusions based on this information?’

The fat guy shot me a glare for interrupting and said, ‘Of course, there’s more evidence than just this. The most direct evidence is this Seven Star Suspicion Coffin. Historical records first indicate that it was used by tomb robbers because they were acutely aware of their countless thefts and feared suffering the same fate after death. Based on their experiences, they designed this false coffin trap. They believed that no matter how elaborate the mechanisms were, they couldn’t stop tomb robbers; the only way was to make them hesitate and unable to act! These seven coffins, aside from one real main coffin, any of the other six, if mistakenly opened, would lead to a near-certain death, with either hidden crossbows or dark sorcery inside. It wasn’t until the Song Dynasty that this trap was gradually popularized by some talented individuals. Such designs originated from a disreputable profession, and common families would find it inauspicious. Moreover, placing seven coffins in one tomb would be excessively costly.’”

I looked at the fat man, who seemed rather rough and careless, and was surprised to find that he had such profound knowledge. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of respect, but I could see he hadn’t finished speaking, so I asked, “So, is there a way to distinguish which one is the main coffin?” The fat man patted me on the back, probably noticing the change in my attitude, and felt quite pleased with himself: “Look at you, young comrade, you’re quite eager to learn. Then let me take a page from Confucius and teach you without tiring! Listen closely, there is indeed a way to distinguish these seven star suspicious coffins! However, there are rules in our trade. Generally, when treasure hunters encounter a seven-star coffin, they will bow a few times and voluntarily withdraw; our ancestors won’t blame us for that. In the chaotic times of the past, some mountain-moving Taoists, with no means of livelihood, had no choice but to break the rules. At that time, a wise person came up with a method to break this deadlock: they used two levers to tilt the coffin at one corner, then drilled a small hole in the bottom of the coffin, and used an iron hook to probe inside to see what they could pull out. This way, they could determine what was actually inside the coffin.”

I couldn’t help but exclaim that the battle of wits between tomb raiders and designers could indeed fill a book. Suddenly, the fat man leaned in mysteriously and said to me, “But the seven stone coffins here are probably all fake; this King Lu’s tomb is likely a fake as well.”

He shone a wolf-eye flashlight at the stone passage we had just fallen into, ensuring nothing was crawling towards us, and continued, “I could never make sense of this, but when I fell into this stone maze, I suddenly realized that this is actually a Western Zhou tomb.” I was taken aback: “Could it be that this isn’t an escape passage dug by the craftsmen?”

At that moment, Panzi cursed from the corner, “I told you long ago, how could this possibly be an escape passage? Have you ever seen anyone dig an escape passage like a maze? Who would have such a good interest in that?” I was greatly confused, as if I had an idea but couldn’t grasp the main point: “How could anyone build their tomb above someone else’s? Isn’t that a way to cut off their descendants?”

The fat man rubbed his mouth and said, “You’re a tomb raider, so you naturally know about these feng shui theories. We tomb raiders look down on that. Feng shui is only useful for guiding our tomb raiding; I really can’t see any other use for it. Feng shui is a field of knowledge, but it’s the knowledge of the ancients, the knowledge of the dead, and has nothing to do with us good young socialists.” He patted his chest deliberately, “Moreover, there’s a saying in feng shui about burying oneself in someone else’s tomb; it’s something like… like… what’s it called… Dragon Hidden Cave? Anyway, it’s a similar name. We shouldn’t bother with such superficial names. As long as your fate aligns and the layout is appropriate, it’s quite possible to be buried in someone else’s tomb. So, the coffin of King Lu Shang must be hidden in this Western Zhou tomb; it can’t be wrong!”

Hearing this, Panzi burst out laughing and said, “What? With your bear-like appearance, you can understand feng shui?”

The fat man was furious: “What do you mean by ‘understand’? If I don’t understand… how could I know so many things?” Panzi laughed heartily, but as soon as he laughed, his wound hurt, and he couldn’t help but clutch his stomach and said, “I don’t know where you heard this nonsense. If you really understand feng shui, why don’t you lead us out of this maze? I’ve gone around in circles seven or eight times and still can’t find the way.”

Hearing Panzi talk about it, I remembered something and asked, “By the way, how did you guys leave me behind and run off? Do you know I was almost scared to death! What about Uncle San and the others?”

Panzi straightened up with some difficulty and said, “I’m not really sure. At that time, that kid went after that fat guy. Although Uncle San told me not to chase after them, I thought if that kid was getting nervous, there must be something important going on. Also, there’s something I didn’t tell you; I always felt that kid’s intentions for following us weren’t pure. I didn’t really trust him and wanted to see what was up, so I followed him.” He furrowed his brow, looking confused, and said, “I ran for a few minutes when I suddenly saw something in the tomb passage ahead. I shone my light on it, and that thing disappeared in a flash. I got a bit nervous and went over to that spot. At that moment, I saw what looked like a human hand, about the length of five fingers, wedged between the stones and the gaps.”

The fat man was startled, his mouth moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he didn’t make a sound.

Panzi recalled all the details from that time and said, “So I leaned in to take a look. You know me—I just can’t control my curiosity, even if it’s something disgusting. Now that I think about it, it’s really a bit frightening. I never expected that hand-like thing would suddenly rush out and grab my neck. The strength was incredible; it almost choked me to death. At that time, I didn’t know what to do. Luckily, I had a military knife on me. I was flailing around while trying to cut that hand and found that its wrist was frighteningly thin, barely thicker than its fingers. I don’t know where it got its strength from. When I slashed down, I made a long cut, and that hand immediately loosened its grip and retreated back into the wall crack.” Panzi touched his neck and said, “I thought, damn it, there must be something strange behind this wall, so I went to check it. I knocked on the left and kicked on the right, and suddenly, I don’t know what I pressed, and bam! I fell right through!” He patted the wall, “Later, you all found out that I fell into a stone chamber just like this one, and then I discovered the stone passage. Fortunately, I’m agile; after jumping for a long time, I finally managed to climb back up. Otherwise, I really don’t know when I would have met Little Third Master.”

“Then, does that mean you don’t know the whereabouts of Uncle San and the others?” I sighed. Panzi clearly had just learned that Uncle San and the others were missing, and he showed a very worried expression. I turned to the Fatty and asked him, “Hey, Fatty, how did you get down here? Tell me the truth, did you provoke that ghostly thing?” The Fatty said, “Well, if you’re saying that, then I’m more wronged than Su San. When I got to that place, the old man who appeared out of nowhere had already summoned that monster. The kid following me saw it, shouted ‘Oh no!’ and turned to run. I thought, if I had to fight that monster, I might not have had no chance, but the revolutionary spark must be preserved, and I hadn’t completed the task the organization assigned me, so I turned and ran too. After running for a while, I saw that kid stop in front of me, telling me to stand still. I didn’t understand what was going on; he kicked the wall, and I fell down. I thought he was going to save me, but I didn’t expect there to be so many bugs down there, damn it.” As he said this, he looked around, seemingly terrified as if bugs were crawling out to bite him.

Panzi glanced at me and said, “Look, this kid seems to know a lot about this ancient tomb; he’s not simple. There must be something wrong.” I had always thought that the dull oil bottle was good because as long as he was around, I felt very safe. But after what Panzi said, I also felt that throughout the journey, that guy seemed to know too much, as if he could predict anything. I couldn’t help but have doubts. In my bag, I still had a few compressed biscuits that I had found from the Fatty. I realized it had been a long time since I had eaten, so I took them out and everyone had a little. Panzi ate very little, saying that if his intestines were already perforated, eating too much would just leak out; he would rather leave it for us because we didn’t know when we could get out. After he said this, even though the Fatty wanted to eat, he felt embarrassed to eat too much. I recounted the things I had encountered to them, and gradually everyone relaxed.

We were silent for a while and then chatted about other things. The Fatty said that just sitting around like this wasn’t a solution, so why not we go into that stone passage and try our luck? Panzi thought the same, so we decided to rest a bit more before setting off.

I dozed off for a bit, half-asleep and half-awake, when I suddenly saw the Fatty making faces at me. I had always thought this Fatty was very unreliable, feeling a bit like he had a split personality. Who would think of putting a pot on their head to scare people in an ancient tomb? Such a person either had a lot of guts or was just not very smart. Now, with one person severely injured and three others missing, he still had the interest to make faces at me. If I had any strength left, I would definitely have rushed over to give him a punch.

However, at that moment, I noticed that even Panzi was making faces at me. I thought: Wow, can craziness be contagious? I saw the two of them constantly patting their left shoulders, their mouths moving as if saying, “Hand, hand!” I noticed they were both sweating profusely, which I found strange, so I looked at my own hands; there was nothing unusual. Could it be my shoulder? I casually turned my head, only to suddenly find a small green hand resting on my shoulder.