What my third uncle mentioned is that the deity depicted as a human head with a bird’s body on the stone wall has appeared in the myths and legends of various peoples and places. I believe it should be the same type of creature as the strange bird we saw in the Yunding Tiangong.

Later, I found out that this deity was referred to as “ba” in ancient Egypt, representing the immortal soul of a person. In other words, if you were in ancient Egypt, their ghosts would all possess this quality. In India, this deity is more specifically referred to as “Garuda,” a divine bird from the snowy mountains that sings for the Buddha’s paradise.

In China, this type of bird is even more famous than the previous two. With a human head and a bird’s body, it is known as “Jiutian Xuannü,” the goddess of the Nine Heavens. It seems that in the “Book of Songs,” “Longyu Hetu,” or some other ancient text (I really can’t remember), the one who imparted the mysterious arts of the “Longjia Shenzhang” to the Yellow Emperor is this very figure.

There are many other legends. One legend states that “Jiutian Xuannü” is the same as the Queen Mother of the West, but most of the tales are quite chaotic, making them hard to trace. During the Six Dynasties period, there were extensive records of Daoist teachings where the “Xuannü” imparted bedroom techniques to the Yellow Emperor. I wonder if this Xuannü is the same as that one; otherwise, being taught bedroom techniques by such a being would hardly be a pleasant experience. If it were me, I would rather die.

So, what was my third uncle thinking while looking at the four eyes of the relief? His speculation was as follows:

There are four indentations on the forehead of the relief, which clearly should have held four pebbles. Now, only two remain, and it is evident that two have been taken away. Since ancient tombs are not frequented, the ones who took those two were most likely the uncles from back then.

These are all simple deductions that anyone could make, so I won’t elaborate further.

The key question is: why are the remaining two still in their original positions? The earth worker does not adhere to the principle of “taking nothing for future generations.” Since the uncles were interested in the pebbles, why didn’t they take all of them at the time and leave two behind?

My third uncle then recalled his earlier conclusion: the change that turned the second uncle into that way must have occurred in this secret chamber. However, there seems to be nothing unusual here; it is merely a sealed space on all four sides.

The only strange thing is that two of the four pebbles have been removed, and there is no reason for the second uncle to have intentionally left two behind. If it wasn’t intentional, could it be that his change occurred while he was taking the pebbles? After taking down two, something unexpected happened, leaving him with no time to retrieve the remaining ones?

When my third uncle thought of this, his mind suddenly became clear. The hypothesis about the pebbles and the entire situation connected seamlessly. He hurried over to examine the strange black stones closely.

The pebbles were deeply embedded in the relief, making the whole relief appear as a single entity. If one did not look closely, it would be impossible to tell that it was two separate parts from the stone wall. The reason my third uncle noticed it immediately was that two had already been excavated. When all four were present, there was not enough attention paid to notice. It seems that the uncles from back then were not simple figures.

So, what would happen if these pebbles were pried out? There are certainly no mechanisms behind the stone wall; could the pebbles be poisonous? That shouldn’t be the case, as I just touched them.

Uncle San hesitated for a moment, and an uncontrollable impulse surged up from his heart. He decided to pry one out and take a look. He drew out his machete and sharpened it a couple of times against the wall, trembling as he approached. He poked one of the stones with the tip of the knife, then inserted the blade into a gap on the side and pried it. With a “clack,” one of the stones fell into Uncle San’s palm.

As soon as the stone dropped, Uncle San immediately took a step back, warily looking around, fearing that some hidden mechanism might suddenly activate. However, nothing happened. The stone lay in his palm, cold and motionless. There was no change around him; the reliefs were still reliefs, and the walls were still walls.

After waiting for a while and confirming that nothing was amiss, he finally sighed with relief, though he felt puzzled. Was his previous assumption wrong? Or could it be that the incident at that time could only trigger once, and no matter how many times he pried now, it wouldn’t activate again?

He put the stone away and went to pry another one, following the same steps. He inserted the knife into a gap, and this time he was calmer and applied more force. With a “bang,” the stone moved and popped out.

Uncle San hurried to catch it, but the stone bounced too quickly. He reacted too late, and it fell to the ground with a “bang,” shattering like a sandball hitting the concrete floor, turning into powder. The black stone erupted in a bronze-colored cloud of dust that scattered into the air.

Uncle San felt a jolt of alarm and coughed, waving his hand as he tasted a sharp flavor in his mouth. Remembering the color of the blood on the corpses outside, he instinctively felt that this dust might be toxic, quickly covering his mouth and nose with his clothes and retreating.

After stepping back a few paces, he immediately looked at the spot where the stone had fallen. To his surprise, he saw a small red worm crawling out from the center of the bronze powder, curled up and making a “chirping” sound.

Upon seeing the worm, Uncle San’s mind buzzed, and he involuntarily took a step back. He recognized the creature at a glance; it was a corpse beetle, and not just any ordinary kind. The red corpse beetle, as he had heard from the elders at home, was extremely poisonous, a creature of evil, capable of sealing one’s throat at the sight of blood, and even the slightest touch could lead to poisoning.

However, it was said that this red corpse beetle only existed inside ancient corpses, making it almost impossible to capture. How could it possibly be wrapped up in a stone? And how could it be embedded here? Most absurdly, how was the creature still alive, wrapped in the stone?

Uncle San found it all incredibly strange, but he quickly realized he had no time to ponder these questions. On the ground, the red worm turned a few times, gradually stretching out, beginning to shake its wings and crawl, seemingly preparing to fly.

Uncle San had never seen a beetle king before and didn’t know if it was truly as poisonous as rumored, but he understood that if it was, then in such a small space, if this creature took to the air, it would be tantamount to signing his own death warrant.

He cautiously stepped back a few paces, raising his machete, hoping to strike it down before it could take off. But before he could bring it down, he suddenly heard a “cluck cluck cluck” sound coming from beneath the machete, and then a red shadow darted out, unexpectedly flying onto Uncle San’s shoulder.

The red light was moving too fast; Uncle San didn’t have time to dodge. He jolted, breaking out in a cold sweat, and instinctively swung the knife in his hand backward, slapping it against his own shoulder. The Toad King was startled and flew up again, landing on a wall nearby.

At this moment, the Toad King was completely awake, flapping its wings and making a croaking sound similar to that of a frog, while a pungent, foul smell continuously emanated from its body.

Uncle San thought to himself that this creature was even harder to deal with than the blood corpse; staying here would surely mean death. The best strategy was to retreat, so he crouched down and carefully made his way back to the entrance of the secret passage.

The passage was too narrow to turn around, so he had to crawl backward, rolling and scrambling until he reached the entrance of the dark tunnel. Fortunately, when he glanced back, the blood-colored little bug had not followed closely behind.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he reached for the mechanism of the secret door. However, he was a bit panicked, and his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

After much effort, he finally found the mechanism and pushed open the secret door. Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, a red light shot out from the darkness of the passage at lightning speed, almost as if it had teleported, heading straight for Uncle San’s face. In an instant, the thing was right in front of him.

Uncle San thought to himself, “This is bad,” and it was too late to dodge. In a moment of desperation, he quickly shrank his neck and blew hard at the bug.

His lung capacity, honed from blowing on the stove, was quite impressive. With a powerful puff, the corpse toad was blown off course, flipping over and crashing into the wall.

Seizing the opportunity, Uncle San raised his hand, flipped himself out of the dark passage, and slammed the secret door shut behind him. The Toad King almost simultaneously followed, but this time it was a step too late; the door had already been sealed. It crashed into the stone slab with a thud and fell back inside, emitting a series of croaking sounds.

Uncle San felt his scalp tingle and his whole body go weak. He collapsed beside the coffin and realized he was drenched in sweat, taking a long time to recover. (I knew well the Toad King’s ferocity, and I broke out in a cold sweat, urging him to keep it brief and not to describe it so vividly.)

Afterward, Uncle San realized this place was not safe for long, and he had no more thoughts of staying. He packed up his things, backtracked through the tunnel, and climbed out of the ancient tomb with several ancestral bones.

He chose a secluded spot to cremate the bodies and then hurriedly made his way back to the county town via the mountain road. In his own words, when he reached the mountaintop, it was just when the sun was peeking out. He looked at the sun and felt for the first time how beautiful it was on the ground.

Upon returning to Changsha, Uncle San did not mention this incident to anyone, including his grandfather. However, he developed a keen interest in the Warring States silk manuscripts and began to study them in secret. Unfortunately, the friends he had at the time were either thugs or rogues, none of whom were reliable. After more than half a year of effort, they had produced no results. The black pebbles he had brought out from the dark passage were shown to many seniors, but none could explain their significance.

Uncle San, feeling disheartened, gradually lost interest until he arrived at the Xisha Islands. It was only through a sudden stroke of luck that things took a turn. At that time, a friend of his had passed away, and he hired an old Taoist priest to conduct a ceremony. Back then, the priest worked part-time; when he wore his robe, he was a Taoist, and when he took it off, he was just an ordinary person. There were no strict rules. After the ceremony, a group of people gathered to drink, and Uncle San himself forgot how it all happened. It seemed that he got drunk and started boasting, pulling out a pebble to show off.

Unexpectedly, when the priest saw the object, his expression changed. He sniffed it and suddenly declared that it was not a stone. Uncle San, not taking him seriously, mockingly asked, “If it’s not a stone, then what is it?” The priest replied earnestly, “This should be a pill.”

The priest spoke with conviction, and Uncle San, seeing that he didn’t seem to be talking nonsense, thought he might have encountered someone knowledgeable. He pulled the priest aside to a quieter place, wanting him to elaborate. However, the priest was only half-knowledgeable; he knew it was a pill but did not understand its origins or details. The only reason he recognized it as a pill was because the Taoist temple where they lived was very old, reportedly dating back to the time of the Five Barbarians’ chaos. The temple had many antiques, and over generations, many had been taken for various uses, including numerous alchemical tools. He had seen this stone-like pill among them and had smelled its scent, which gave him the confidence to assert it was a pill.

Uncle San couldn’t help but feel disappointed, but at least he saw a glimmer of hope. Later, he consulted several experts in gold and stone studies, who confirmed this assertion: it was indeed a “pill.” However, alchemy is a mystical subject and very personal; almost every alchemist has their own method of making pills. Without ancient texts for reference, one couldn’t discern much from a single pill. The priest told him that since it was found in an ancient tomb, it must be what the ancients believed to be a longevity pill, as only such pills would be used as burial items.

Upon hearing this, Uncle San felt confused. He knew that the pill contained toad essence, and pills were generally meant to be ingested. Consuming this would surely lead to death, and a gruesome one at that—what kind of longevity was that? After much puzzling over it and struggling for more than half a year, trying nearly every avenue with no progress, he was on the verge of giving up and considering flushing the pill down the toilet when an unexpected event occurred.