Agui took a long time to translate this sentence, and it was clear he found it very strange. What does it mean? I was even more confused. What is the “smell of the dead”? The smell of decay?

I wanted to press further, but unexpectedly, Panma shook his head, indicating that I shouldn’t ask that question: the smell of the dead is just the smell of the dead. If you want to know anything else, ask quickly; he could only say this much about it, and whether I believed it or not was none of his concern.

Naturally, I was unwilling to give up just like that, but Panma’s attitude was very firm. I pleaded with him several times, but he didn’t show even the slightest expression, nor did he respond.

On the side, Agui gave me a few glances, signaling me to stop asking, fearing that if I annoyed Panma, he might turn hostile. I finally stopped, inwardly cursing that old man for being so ungrateful.

I could tell that Panma definitely had a lot on his mind. Although he showed no outward signs, his words conveyed that he knew a great deal. However, he seemed a bit evasive, displaying a contradictory attitude. From his indifference towards the Mute Oil Bottle, it was clear that the old man had seen a lot of the world.

I pondered for a moment, trying to think from his perspective. When would a person exhibit such behavior?

One possibility is when they have something valuable to sell. In my previous dealings with brokers, they would often drop hints and wait for a response. But this old ghost didn’t seem much like those brokers.

Another possibility is that he harbors a secret that he absolutely cannot reveal. However, he has seen something related to that secret. If he doesn’t speak up, it could lead to serious consequences. In this dilemma, he can only offer some ambiguous remarks. For instance, if a spy is suspected, and he sees a child playing with a metal disc, he knows that the disc is a landmine. If he tells the child, his identity as a spy might be exposed, so he would say to the child, “Playing with that thing will eventually get you killed.”

I felt this possibility was quite likely. Initially, I just wanted to know some details about when Wen Jin and the others entered the mountains, but after he saw the Mute Oil Bottle, the details he exhibited made me think more. In other words, I deduced that he considered the Mute Oil Bottle to be a landmine that could blow me up. He had a secret that made him aware of this, but he was unwilling to share it.

Interesting! I suddenly felt less frustrated. I wasn’t afraid of him keeping secrets; I was more afraid that he had no secrets at all. The fact that this old ghost was warning me indicated that he still had a conscience. At the very least, I could say that he probably didn’t have a bad impression of me. Cursing wouldn’t help now; being patient might yield some results.

However, expressing my probing intentions right from the start would make him wary, so I decided to remain calm and shift the focus. So I nodded and said, “Alright, if you don’t want to talk about that, I won’t press you. Could you tell me about that archaeological team instead?”

Upon hearing this, Agui let out a sigh of relief. Clearly, he was worried that we might argue and didn’t want to give me any more chances to ask questions, so he quickly translated the question.

Only then did Panma lift his head, but he shook it again and said a sentence. Agui immediately translated back: “The old man says you got it wrong; that wasn’t an archaeological team. Those people were soldiers.”

“Soldiers?” At first, I thought I had misheard, and A Gui translated it again. I hadn’t misheard.

After pondering for a moment, I felt that Old Man Panma must have made a mistake; everyone at that time was wearing green military uniforms, and he might have mistaken those people for soldiers.

(For the sake of narrative convenience, I will not mention A Gui’s translations in the following dialogue.)

“The situation was very tense back then. A lot of soldiers came, all carrying submachine guns, saying they were going to Yangjiao Mountain to find someone to guide them. At that time, A Gui’s father found me, and I led them into the mountains,” Old Man Panma continued.

I frowned, suddenly recalling the border disputes with Vietnam at that time. In the 1970s, there had been sporadic fighting here, and I hadn’t considered that this area was actually a war zone, making the situation even more complicated.

This was truly an unexpected situation, and I fell into deep thought, with many things flashing through my mind.

In that kind of environment, it was certainly impossible for an archaeological team to come here for an investigation; that made things puzzling… Wen Jin and the others were indeed quite resourceful. Could it be that the project at that time was a state-sanctioned initiative, and the presence of guns indicated that there were indeed soldiers for protection? It seemed that what Old Man Panma said wasn’t entirely false.

What kind of project could warrant the state sending an archaeological team into a war zone? Could it be that there was really a highly valuable ancient tomb in Yangjiao Mountain?

“The backgrounds of those people are very deep…” My third uncle’s words flashed through my mind, sending a chill down my spine.