In the dark depths of the water, the ancient corpse wrapped in white gauze had been submerged for an unknown number of years. The white gauze had long since deteriorated, making it impossible to distinguish whether it was male or female. Due to the distance, the features of the corpse were also blurred, and its state of preservation was indiscernible.

Uncle San was drenched in cold sweat, but he quickly calmed down. Clearly, since this was a sunken ship grave, the presence of a floating corpse here was not surprising. However, as Uncle San gradually moved his hand away from the searchlight, he saw in the cold white light that another ancient corpse had appeared in the darkness next to the first one, dressed similarly, ominously concealed in the murky seawater.

A sense of foreboding washed over Uncle San as he continued to move the searchlight. Sure enough, he discovered that beneath the darkness, a large number of white gauze-wrapped ancient corpses were floating—at least thirty or forty of them. The countless white, fluttering gauzy garments truly sent a chilling sensation deep into his bones.

Due to the searchlight’s illumination, it was impossible to determine where the faint green fluorescence was emanating from among these ancient corpses. What was most terrifying was that the corpses were not motionless; the rigid bodies were floating in the water and were actually slowly moving.

Uncle San felt as if his heart was about to leap out of his throat. Inside the airtight helmet, he was drenched in cold sweat and thought to himself how fortunate he was to have held onto the chain of connections. If he had swum over directly and turned on the light right next to this group of ancient corpses, it would have been a miracle if he hadn’t scared himself to death. These corpses had undoubtedly been submerged here for nearly a thousand years; ordinary remains would have long since decomposed. How could they still be floating in the water? Had they perhaps turned into zongzi (sticky rice dumplings)?

He had come down without any preparation at all and had never imagined he would face such a perilous situation. He hadn’t even brought a single donkey’s hoof. It was truly unfair; following that damned Jie Lianhuan, Uncle San had long forgotten that all of this was self-inflicted.

Looking at Jie Lianhuan, he too had a look of terror on his face. It was evident that his earlier nonchalance in approaching the area was due to ignorance of the real situation. It seemed that the foreigner had not informed him of what they would encounter.

Uncle San’s thoughts raced like lightning, and in an instant, he foresaw several scenarios. Meanwhile, the group of ancient corpses in the distance gradually drifted closer, moving leisurely, the white gauze billowing slowly. Were it not for the surrounding darkness and the indistinct features, the scene resembled celestial beings walking on clouds in the heavenly palace.

As Uncle San watched, a sudden realization struck him. He lowered his body and dove a few meters deeper to get closer for a better look.

The ancient corpses seemed not to have completely decayed; although their features were blurred, human likenesses could still be discerned. Each corpse displayed various postures—some resembling trays, others like flute players, and some like those playing stringed instruments. There were over a dozen of them, and though they were as rigid as iron, their poses were exquisitely graceful, and Uncle San understood what he was witnessing.

In many ancient tomb murals, such a scene is often depicted: the tomb owner ascending to the heavens, with the celestial gates wide open, welcoming a gathering of immortals amid swirling clouds and soaring divine birds, with heavenly light illuminating all. In such murals, there would invariably be a “Celestial Master Dancing and Playing Music” painting above the cloud ladder that the tomb owner ascended, featuring countless celestial musicians playing instruments in harmony.

However, it was clear that the tomb owner found the scene of “Heavenly Master Dance Music” in a painting unsatisfactory. The dozens of ancient corpses formed a spectacle that was a real manifestation of the Heavenly Master Dance Music, with drums and zithers playing in harmony; it was simply unbelievable. He immediately understood why Jie Lianhuan was searching for these ancient corpses, because the route of the Heavenly Master Dance Music was the path to the tomb owner’s ascension to immortality. Following the ancient corpses would surely lead to the location of the tomb owner.

Jie Lianhuan, regaining his composure, gestured for his third uncle to follow him. Due to his nervousness, his movements became awkward. The third uncle tried hard to calm his racing heart; he knew he had entered an extraordinary place. At this moment, he was surprisingly not anxious, because now that he was aware of this place, the ancient tomb wouldn’t run away. His current preparations were clearly insufficient, and he had ample excuses to convince himself to back out.

In hindsight, the place they were in was essentially an endless abyss. Where the ancient corpses drifted to and how long it would take was utterly unpredictable. If he recklessly followed them, who knew how much time would be wasted? The oxygen was also limited, which was indeed quite unwise.

The third uncle fully realized this and stopped Jie Lianhuan, signaling him to go back and not to proceed further. The current situation was too dangerous to delve deeper; preserving one’s life was more important.

However, at that moment, Jie Lianhuan suddenly made up his mind (being neurotic is a common problem among second-generation wealthy kids; it seems I have this issue too) and, without waiting for his uncle to stop him, rushed toward where the female corpse was going. The third uncle behind him signaled with his flashlight several times, hoping he would wait, but Jie Lianhuan paid no attention at all. Seeing this, the third uncle thought, “Oh no, this kid probably wants to shake me off.”

Earlier, he had coerced Jie Lianhuan into coming down together, and Jie Lianhuan must have been reluctant. Now that they were nearing the end, Jie Lianhuan simply decided to ditch him. Even though their relationship had become distant, Jie Lianhuan was still his relative, and he was supposedly the older brother. In this regard, Chinese people tend to have a strong sense of kinship and a protective instinct towards the younger generation. The third uncle could not possibly abandon Jie Lianhuan; he could only suppress the anger boiling inside him and hurried after him.

(At this point, I have lost count of how many times I have heard the third uncle mention his “helplessness” and “lack of options,” to the point where I can sense something unusual in his tone, as if he is subconsciously emphasizing his unwillingness to follow Jie Lianhuan. In fact, from what I know of the third uncle’s personality, he was not the type who could control his curiosity at that time. I already felt that, inevitably, the death of Jie Lianhuan afterward would likely be primarily the third uncle’s responsibility.

The reason I think this way is that the third uncle had taken care of me for a period when I was a child. At that time, he had to go work in the fields and couldn’t attend to me, so he tied me to the roadside with a rope and left me in the sun for an entire day, nearly causing me to suffer from heatstroke. Afterwards, he bribed me with a lot of salty popsicles to keep this incident a secret. I was too young to understand back then, so I didn’t say anything. However, this incident shows that he had quite a mischievous personality in his youth and a poor ability to control himself.)

However, thinking of the blood characters left by Jie Lianhuan on the ancient tomb, I still couldn’t believe that my uncle would intentionally harm him. So, upon hearing this, I couldn’t help but feel tense.

The events that followed unfolded at a rapid pace. My uncle, while weighing the consumption of oxygen, desperately chased after Jie Lianhuan. The more he thought about it, the more wrong it felt; he had never been to a sea-bottom ancient tomb like this and truly had no confidence.

At this moment, Jie Lianhuan was already fleeing, swimming quickly ahead, and since my uncle wasn’t particularly skilled at diving, it was clear he couldn’t keep up.

Following the lights in front, they swam forward in the darkness for over ten minutes. Unbeknownst to them, many floating objects began to appear around my uncle. A quick glance revealed broken wooden structures—carved windows and wooden beams, countless in number, all highly decayed and covered in white sea rust.

Soon, among these floating objects, my uncle saw a huge, monstrous shadow tilted at an angle. The “dancing ancient corpses” floating in the water drifted straight towards this object, while Jie Lianhuan had already surpassed them, getting close to the gigantic shadow. Using his light, my uncle gradually began to discern the true form of that object.

It was the bow of a massive ancient ship lodged in the reef. The term “massive” was a gross understatement; my uncle felt it was inadequate to describe the size of the ship’s bow he was seeing. The wreckage of the bow extended out from the reef, stretching over two hundred meters on either side. The remains had completely deformed, the twisted bow covered in white sea dust and crusted coral. If it weren’t for its bizarre shape, one might think it was the skull of a gigantic marine creature.

The “dancing ancient corpses” floated down towards the wreckage and quickly disappeared into the dark seawater. My uncle and Jie Lianhuan followed closely behind, and under the illumination of their two searchlights, the condition of the wreckage became increasingly clear.

On the deck at the bow, my uncle saw a wooden carved pavilion half-embedded in the reef, seemingly the main structure of the giant wooden ship, which had now tilted and was nearly collapsing. On the pavilion, there was a deformed and cracked white marble door, wide open, like a large mouth waiting for them to walk into the trap.