I thought to myself that something was wrong and hurriedly looked around, but there was no one in sight. Instantly, I panicked and wondered what was going on. In this desolate wilderness, could it be that the corpse had come back to life? I quickly called over Fatty and Panzi to take a look.

Both of them were dumbfounded when they saw it. Fatty shouted angrily, “Who the hell did this?!” We all started searching frantically in every direction, but we didn’t know how many times we repeated this action, all of us in a daze.

However, the surroundings were silent; there was neither a person nor the sound of any wild animals. I immediately felt a wave of fear wash over me. There surely weren’t any other people in this ancient city of the Queen Mother of the West, and there were no animal tracks near the sleeping bag. We all knew it was impossible for anything to have moved this corpse. Could it really be that it had come back to life?

Recalling the mysterious dream I had earlier, my throat went dry, and I thought, could it be that my nightmare was coming true?

Fatty and Panzi had seen a lot in their lives, and they didn’t panic at this moment. Instead, they immediately squatted down and rummaged through the sleeping bag to see what was going on.

As soon as the sleeping bag was opened, Panzi gasped in shock. Inside the sleeping bag, there were traces of mud where snakes had crawled, and the ground beneath the sleeping bag was also covered in such marks. The traces were so chaotic that it was clear an extremely large number of snakes had crawled through here. When I touched it, it was sticky and the marks were very fresh, evidently just left behind moments ago.

Fatty’s face changed drastically, and he exclaimed, “What the hell? Could it be that those snakes moved the corpse away?”

Panzi obviously didn’t believe it. “That’s impossible! How could a snake carry away such a heavy corpse?” But his expression also changed, clearly indicating that the traces here supported Fatty’s assertion.

I felt a chill run down my spine and couldn’t speak. If this were true, it was too bizarre. I had always had a particular fear of the neck of a wild chicken, partly because of its toxicity, and partly because of the many strange legends surrounding this type of snake. In many of these legends, the behavior of such snakes was extremely odd. What left the deepest impression on me was that their methods of revenge were very peculiar. But the fact that they had actually moved Anning’s corpse was truly unfathomable.

“One snake certainly can’t do it, but look at how many there are now; even an elephant could carry it away.” Fatty opened the entire sleeping bag and saw that it was covered in snake prints. The area of the sleeping bag that was near the water had turned into a muddy mess, which we hadn’t noticed earlier because of the lighting.

“But what do these snakes want with the corpse?” Panzi asked Fatty, looking puzzled. Indeed, Anning’s corpse was clearly not suitable for food. Snakes aren’t clawed animals, so it would be very difficult for them to open the sleeping bag and carry away a corpse. Snakes aren’t ants; what do they want with the body?

“Then you should ask the snakes,” Fatty paused and then said, “But snakes are very utilitarian creatures; they wouldn’t do it just for fun. There must be a reason. It’s no surprise that this woman can’t find peace even in death; it suits her character.”

I thought about it and felt a sense of oppression. The series of events that had just unfolded were all disjointed and left me at a loss. This feeling was truly terrible. I thought about how I couldn’t let the snakes bully me, so I picked up the mining lamp and said to them, “We’ve only been here for a few minutes; the corpse must still be nearby. Let’s go look for it.”

Before I could even stand up, Panzi grabbed me: “Looking for a ji ba (vulgar term for a woman), with hundreds of snakes? You’re asking for death.”
“But! She can’t just be buried in a snake’s den.”
The fat man snatched my miner’s lamp back, and Panzi patted my shoulder, “Xiao San Ye (Little Third Master), you have to understand, living people are human, but once you’re dead, you’re just a thing, a stinky skin bag. We can’t possibly take this woman back; this is her chosen resting place. There’s no need to risk our lives for a corpse.”
The fat man added, “Exactly, dead is dead. It doesn’t matter where you die. But if I, Fat Ye, kick the bucket one day, just burn me. Don’t let those snakes get to me; who knows what they want with a corpse.”
Hearing this made me feel deflated. I sat down on the ground, scratching my scalp, feeling very uncomfortable inside.
The fat man looked at the traces around and said, “These snakes are indeed strange. How many snakes do you think it takes to move a corpse? At least a hundred, right? Just look at how many are here; how many of these snakes do you think are in the whole forest? Staying here doesn’t seem wise. If they come back, the three of us probably won’t last a few minutes. If we die and run into An Ning, that stinky woman will just laugh at us.”
Actually, I felt there was no need to be that scared; they hadn’t bitten us while we were sleeping earlier. Panzi said, “I’ve encountered quite a few snakes in Vietnam, and I’ve been bitten a couple of times. I’m somewhat familiar with snakes. Generally, they don’t attack people unless provoked. An Ning was an accident; maybe it was the waterfall water that startled that snake.”
Hearing that was obviously meant to comfort me, but I thought to myself, who would believe that? Just looking at Panzi’s face, I could tell he didn’t believe it either. Ordinary snakes are one thing, but those snakes look sinister; they’re not benign.
I placed the miner’s lamp back where I originally intended, looking at the empty sleeping bag, feeling very bitter. The fat man adjusted the direction of all my lamps, shining them around the water surface, saying we needed to stay alert.
His actions made me immediately worry about the Silent Oil Bottle. I hoped nothing had happened to him. If we were in a tomb, I wouldn’t be worried because that was his territory. But as the fat man said, snakes are unpredictable; one bite could kill you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
We discussed our situation but didn’t know what to do, so we had to keep waiting for the Silent Oil Bottle. There was no way we could sleep that night; the three of us huddled back to back, watching all four directions through the night.
At that point, it wasn’t early anymore; it wasn’t long before dawn broke. As the morning light shone, the oppressive atmosphere that had lingered all night eased considerably, and we relaxed a bit, but the Silent Oil Bottle still hadn’t returned.
We reassessed the swamp; it didn’t seem as terrifying as it had at night. However, the rain had stopped, and there was no sound of rain. The only noise left was the flowing water, still eerily quiet. In the distance, the rainforest was pitch black; whether it was dawn or not seemed to have no relation to the world deep within the rainforest.
Seeing that there was still no news from the Silent Oil Bottle, I began to feel anxious again. I rarely have the feeling that I could lose someone at any moment, but now it felt like anyone here could die at any time. This was probably because An Ning’s death had shattered some of my preconceived notions.

Although Panzi and Fatty were a bit worried, they were much better off than I was. Fatty said that the worst that could happen was death, which left me speechless.

We ate something, and Panzi waded back to the mouth of the canyon, collecting some branches to dry in the sun. He built a bonfire and made a signal smoke pile. I asked him what he wanted to do, and he said that we had already passed through the canyon and understood the basic situation. A few days had passed, and if nothing unexpected happened, Uncle San and the others should be arriving at the canyon’s mouth soon. Although there was still light rain yesterday, the Gobi outside had been sunbaked for several days. He wanted to create a signal smoke here, which would indicate our location and inform Uncle San that we had entered and the route we took. Additionally, it would serve as a warning about the situation here, urging them to be cautious.

After Panzi finished speaking, he took out a yellow, pill-like object from his bag and tossed it into the charcoal pile. Soon, a thick smoke began to rise. He told me that this was a distress signal smoke used during maritime disasters, sourced from a military supply that a friend of his still in the army had obtained; just a few of these balls could produce smoke for three to four hours.

I asked if we could inform Uncle San about the poisonous snakes in the canyon. Panzi shook his head, explaining that different colors of smoke represented different meanings, but they were all simple messages. The yellow smoke indicated that there were dangers ahead and that caution was needed while advancing. For more complex communication, we would have to wait until Uncle San saw the smoke and responded before he could find a way to convey the message. Uncle San and his group were at a higher elevation than us, so they should be able to see it easily. We needed to keep an eye on the direction of the canyon exit or the walls for any responding signal smoke.

This was indeed a very effective method of long-distance communication. Watching the smoke rise into the air gave me a sudden sense of security. If Uncle San arrived and joined us, things would be much easier. They were strong and robust, and I thought at least I could get a good night’s sleep.

Panzi added a smoke ball every two hours. After the first smoke ball extinguished, there was no response, and the muffled oil bottle hadn’t returned. We didn’t pay much attention until the afternoon. When the second smoke ball had burned about halfway, Fatty suddenly shouted, “There! There! A response!”

I had been staring at the sky out of boredom and immediately jumped up, looking toward the cliff with Panzi. At first, we couldn’t find it. Fatty shouted, “Over there! Over there!”

After turning around a few times, I finally saw a plume of smoke rising from a distance, slowly drifting up into the sky. The smoke was actually red, and at first glance, it resembled a giant cockscomb snake emerging from beneath the tree canopy far away.

I cheered and instinctively wanted to laugh, but just as my smile began to form, it suddenly froze. Almost at the same moment I cheered, I realized something was wrong. Because the place where the smoke was rising was not outside the canyon at all, but in the center of the basin where we were, deep within the swamp.