adminIt is difficult to write this story with a calm mind; at this moment, I have deliberately suppressed my emotions just to pen down this first sentence.
Many events, once they occur, you do not wish to document them, because you know that while the process of these events is worth sharing with others, recording them forces you to relive the pain, anxiety, and doubts. Sometimes, you might even find yourself back in that moment. It is not a pleasant experience.
At such times, you think of fate, because for me, if I had been born into an ordinary family, then even if I yearned to experience these things, I would not have had the opportunity. Yet, I happened to be born into a very special family. The source of this uniqueness lies in my grandfather and his unusual profession, if it can even be called a profession.
In modern terms, my grandfather was a tomb raider. In the 1940s and 50s, around Changsha, my grandfather was a very famous tomb raider, referred to locally as a “tu fuzi” (earth master). Our family is very familiar with this experience because after the founding of New China, there was a period when my grandfather was a key target of the Ministry of Public Security, and it seems that the wanted status was only lifted in the 1960s.
The details of my grandfather’s past are not well-known within our family; most of what I know comes from my parents’ casual mentions or from eavesdropping on conversations between my grandfather and a few uncles. Aside from some family-related matters, my grandfather hardly ever spoke about his tomb raiding experiences.
At that time, I understood that my grandfather must be harboring many secrets. After all, the events of excavating ancient tombs had long since passed. No matter how significant or obscure the secrets, after half a century, they would inevitably turn into anecdotes; this is the law of time.
However, even up until his death, my grandfather remained tight-lipped about these matters and was unwilling to mention them, which is quite abnormal. We say that the unsealing of secrets is like the dilution of dye; with the passage of time, they always gradually come to light. Even if my grandfather had the greatest obsessions in his heart, the events of those years would eventually fade little by little from his mind. Yet, not at all.
Something very special must have happened during his tomb raiding activities, and the importance of that event would not be diluted by time.
What further solidifies my judgment is that my grandfather left behind a particularly strange will.
My grandfather passed away in a very ordinary manner, just like any elderly person who knows their time is near. By the time he died, he had little strength left to be afraid; all his remaining energy was devoted to arranging his affairs.
I still vividly remember his first words: “I never expected that I could really die.” Others did not pay much attention to this statement; they simply thought the old man was losing his mind due to old age, that he was somewhat confused and using the wrong words in his final moments.
My father sighed; he knew that no matter what he said, it wouldn’t make a difference. He simply said, “We’re all here, the eldest, the second, the third, and the grandchildren are all here.” “I have something to explain,” my grandfather said. From this statement, it was clear that his thoughts were quite coherent. “What I leave behind isn’t much, but some of it should have some value. You three brothers can divide it among yourselves. I don’t trust the children of others; you three are the ones I trust the most.”
My father nodded, and my grandfather continued, “After I die, I must be cremated within two hours.” This request was a bit strange, but at that moment, we couldn’t go against the old man, so my father nodded again. “When I’m cremated, you must ensure that no one is within thirty meters of the cremation furnace, and you are not allowed to look inside the furnace.” My grandfather continued. This condition was also agreed to, but after my grandfather finished speaking, the family was left puzzled. We waited quietly for him to explain or continue.
However, after he finished speaking, he fell silent, his eyes still open, just looking at us.
Grandfather passed away that same night. My father, being a devoted son, fulfilled all my grandfather’s wishes. When we went to the funeral home, he was particularly anxious and spent a lot of money to cut in line. Because it was a joyous occasion, there wasn’t too much sorrow. However, during the cremation, my father and my brothers were all blocked outside, and we could only go in after the ashes were ready.
So, although everyone found it strange, the reasons behind my grandfather’s requests remained a mystery to everyone in the end. Due to my personality, I didn’t take action to dig deeper, and gradually, I forgot about it. Looking back now, however, I realize that the signs of everything that was about to happen were already evident at that time. When you’re not involved, you truly know nothing; but once you’re in the thick of it, a moment of reflection reveals traces everywhere.
After my grandfather’s death, my father inherited some assets, all of which were relatively clear-cut. My father had worked in geology his entire life and knew nothing about antiques or collectibles, so he had neglected them. Later, when he saw that I had graduated from university and was idle, he simply handed everything over to me to manage.
The neglect of the shop was related to my father’s character. I was young and ambitious, and after taking over the shop, I decided to reform it, to make it thrive and grow strong. I partnered with a childhood friend, and the two of us began to develop a plan, going everywhere to collect good items. However, we made four consecutive mistakes, draining the shop’s working capital and my friend’s savings in the process. My friend, in a moment of desperation, resorted to digging up ancient tombs with a cousin, which landed him in jail.
I didn’t dare to tell my parents that the shop was out of money. Luckily, I owned half of the shop, so I only needed to pay the rent and utilities for the other half. Initially, I thought about giving up the other half of the shop (which I eventually did), but then I thought about how it had been the same shop when my grandfather was around. Although my father wasn’t capable, at least the shop hadn’t shrunk; now that it was in my hands, if I cut it in half, I would definitely be scolded by my father.
So I could only endure it and lived a particularly hard life. In the antique business, it’s too common to go from rags to riches overnight or vice versa, but one must have liquid capital; otherwise, it’s better to sell tea eggs. Thanks to my grandfather’s reputation, there were always a few people coming to my shop each month, more or less, out of curiosity. I used my grandfather’s name to deceive them, and I always managed to get some returns. Eventually, I met a guy named Jin Wantang.
Jin Wantang came to my shop because of my grandfather; he brought a piece of Warring States silk manuscript, hoping to have it appraised by my grandfather. My initial understanding of my grandfather’s deeds was from decades ago when he had stolen a blood-stained manuscript from a tomb, and my grandfather ended up with a piece of that bloodied Warring States silk manuscript, while his grandfather, father, and brother all died in that incident. I had some reservations about this item, but due to my struggling business, I developed a sinister thought about his Warring States manuscript. I secretly took a picture of it, intending to make a counterfeit to sell for money, only to accidentally discover that this Warring States manuscript was actually a map to an ancient tomb.
I don’t know if it was inherited from tomb raiders or if I had gone mad from poverty, but by some twist of fate, I got involved in that tomb raiding activity. It was during this tomb raiding that I first met Zhang Qiling.
The subsequent story is intricate and could easily fill a million words. Zhang Qiling and I became friends (whether we were truly friends, in hindsight, feels somewhat desolate). Gradually, I realized that Zhang Qiling, like my grandfather, seemed to bear a secret that must never be spoken. Moreover, I discovered that what Zhang Qiling carried seemed to be intricately connected to what my grandfather carried.
I had no choice but to investigate him, and soon I was horrified to find that Zhang Qiling had been linked to our family since my grandfather’s generation. He had appeared as a stranger in some of my grandfather’s and my third uncle’s activities.
He had connections with three generations of our family, and the most terrifying part was that my grandfather had passed away many years ago, yet he appeared to be the same age as me.
Although I believe he meant no harm, who exactly is this person? What is his purpose? Did our Wu family stumble into his mystery, or has he always been surrounding our Wu family? No one knows.
Like my grandfather, he bears a secret; are they the same secret? I have no idea.
But as I delved into these matters, I gradually found answers to why my grandfather left that strange last wish. The various unbelievable things my grandfather’s generation did and the terrifying conspiracies they fell into slowly came to light.
That story has come to an end. At the conclusion, Zhang Qiling vanished with all his secrets. I thought I knew everything, but I found that, in fact, everything about him remains a mystery.
I don’t know if, after I have children, this person will appear again in my child’s life, still with that young face. But what I am certain of is that regardless of what secrets this person carries, whether related to my family or not, I hope to end all of this before my life concludes.
I hope to see him again and learn his secrets.
