**Chapter 49: Escape**

The pile of bones was very high, with the skeletons above the water’s surface dry and brittle, turning to dust when squeezed by the short man, Feng. Being choked by human bones was certainly not a pleasant experience. Both the胖子 (Fatty) and I instinctively stepped back; inhaling any strange substances in such a place was a major taboo. After coughing a few times, Feng showed no further reaction. We covered our mouths and noses with our clothes and began to sift through the bones.

There were more than forty craftsmen in total, which isn’t a small number. However, due to the severe weathering and fragmentation of the bones, I couldn’t determine which ones were phalanges. Only when moving relatively intact corpses could I see complete hand bones. Strangely, I didn’t see the characteristics I expected. It seemed not all of the Zhang family were disabled.

After revealing the stone door, we tried pushing and pulling it. It was a door that needed to be pushed open; these people had attempted to move it. The door’s hinges were relatively intact, but after pushing, we found that the back door was blocked by something heavy.

Fatty stepped back a few paces, then leaped forward like a cannonball, only to bounce back and fall into the water, landing on his back with his legs in the air. We all charged together, but the outcome was the same; my shoulder got bruised in the process.

The gap in the stone door was large, so Fatty took out a firestarter to see what was blocking the door. We leaned over to peek through the crack, while Fatty pulled a piece of iron wire from his shoe and attached it to the firestarter to poke inside.

The door was about a palm’s thickness. As we looked down through the gap, we quickly saw the surface patterns of the object that was blocking the door. It was made of bronze and was wedged between the two doors.

I thought to myself, “Just another piece of scrap metal.” I had some experience with such situations. Just as I was about to look for a way to pry it at the bottom, the bronze object behind the door suddenly began to turn, and then a face appeared in the gap.

**Chapter 50: A Turn After Many Years**

I was no longer the easily frightened novice I once was. When the thing behind the door turned to face us, I was only slightly startled and tilted my head to avoid anything that might spray out.

In that moment, I clearly saw that it was a damaged gas mask, covered in dust. My earlier actions might have disturbed the balance of the items piled at the door.

I shook the door again; although it seemed to be unmoving, I could clearly hear the sound of debris falling and crashing at the entrance. Fatty and Feng quickly came over to help. Soon, the falling debris triggered a chain reaction, with many items crashing into the water, causing the accumulated sediment below to rise to the surface.

Fatty got excited and told us to step back. He kicked the door several times, and sure enough, it loosened. A large object collapsed at the entrance, splashing water onto our faces from the gap. With another kick, the door finally opened.

When we pushed open the stone door, we saw the situation behind it—there were all kinds of metal and bronze artifacts, both ancient and modern. I picked up the gas mask and discovered that inside it was a skull. The bronze object I had seen earlier was a bronze helmet, a Tibetan-style helmet.

This person is wearing a gas mask but has on a Tibetan-style helmet, which is actually not surprising. In this area, items from various eras are merging. In Motuo, you often see locals dressed in traditional clothing while using an iPhone to drive off-road vehicles. This place was once part of the camel caravan route, and countless transport planes have crashed here. It’s not unusual for the Kham people to possess some military equipment from World War II.

We turned on our flashlights and began to observe the surroundings. Inside the stone gate, it was previously pitch black, but now illuminated, we saw wooden towers one after another. Upon closer inspection, it felt like a massive warehouse, with the water here deeper, reaching our waists. As we extended our light further, we saw rows of enormous wooden towers in this deep cave, resembling bookshelves. Each tower had several layers, with some collapsed into the water—its wooden legs rotting from soaking. Most of the wooden towers remained intact, piled high with various items.

The fat man pulled out what looked like a thick rag from a shelf beside him, gave it a pat, and the dust scattered. Then, suddenly, that tower collapsed with a crash.

Shining the flashlight on what the fat man was holding, we discovered a stack of scriptures written on grass leaves.

“Is this a library?”

For the Kham people, these scriptures might be extremely precious, perhaps even more valuable than their own lives. After the disaster, they moved what they considered valuable into this place for safekeeping.

Of course, the towers contained more than just scriptures; they held all sorts of things, though covered in dust, making it hard to see what they were. The tower structures were very fragile, and I no longer dared to touch them.

Feng made a sound with his tongue to get our attention. We shone our flashlight in his direction and saw a massive stone tower, larger than any wooden tower, covered in Kham patterns and filled with various items.

“This isn’t a library; these towers are tombs,” Feng said. As he shone the flashlight inside the tower, we saw the shadow of a human figure sitting inside. “The items in the towers might be their burial goods.”

“Is it a Kham person?” I frowned, trying to get a clearer view of the body inside. The fat man chimed in, “Is anyone really buried with this stuff?”

Turning around, we saw the fat man shining his light on a large bundle of dusty grenades on the stone tower. “But this fits my character; if I kick the bucket, remember to put a few bundles of detonators in my coffin. If anyone comes to disturb my rest, I’ll make sure they regret it.”

Feng pinched his brow, suddenly realizing something. He swept the flashlight over one wooden tower after another, then walked toward the grenades and illuminated the pull ring. We saw a thread tightly wrapped around the pull ring, coiling around the wooden tower several times. It was pulled very tight, and with the slightest movement, the ring would be triggered. “These aren’t burial goods,” Feng said.

(It seems like I haven’t updated in a long time, and I’m slowly finding my rhythm again. I hope I haven’t disappointed you. By the way, tomorrow is New Year’s Day. Happy New Year, muah!)