This fleeting sense of familiarity is something I have experienced before, and it always gives me goosebumps. The book says it’s an illusion, but this time feels different because I noticed a change in the expression of the guy with the hood, who also looked puzzled, perhaps feeling the same way I do.

Where is this? Where have I seen this scene before, or something similar to it? I tried hard to recall, turning it over and over in my mind, but I couldn’t remember. I just knew that I must have seen this scene not long ago. Moreover, along with this feeling of similarity, there was also a sense of something being “off.” Clearly, the impression in my memory had some differences from what was here.

The chubby guy, carefree and oblivious, jumped into the water wearing only his underwear, while A Gui reminded him to be careful, saying that lakes in the mountains are often inauspicious and advised him not to make too much fuss. The chubby guy has seen his fair share of scenes; he splashed water at A Gui to tell him to shut up.

Back on the shore, we took off our wet shoes and pants. The chubby guy helped A Gui set up a rain shelter while A Gui went to chop wood, and Yun Cai helped cook. As I drank some water, I suddenly remembered where I had seen this mountain shape before.

The shape and feel of this mountain are remarkably similar to the mountain scenery we saw while playing in the stream by the village. The lines and contours of the mountains are almost identical. The only difference is that we were in the stream back then, and now we are in a lake. So, the reflection of the water and the shape of the mountains caught me by surprise. However, the trees on these mountains are dense, while the trees near the village have been cut down, which is why there’s a slight difference.

When I closed my eyes to rest, I had carefully observed the scenery around the stream. Although the guy with the hood seemed distracted, he surely noticed everything as well. The chubby guy was focused on those young girls at the time, so it was no wonder he didn’t pay attention.

This is indeed interesting; nature is truly a master craftsman. I wonder if it’s purely coincidental or due to some geological reasons. It seems there is a geomantic terrain like this, called “fish scale ridge,” where all the mountains resemble fish scales, layer upon layer, and their shapes are quite similar. This kind of geomancy is not suitable for burials because it is said that beneath the fish scales lies a place that collects filth. Geographically, fish scale formations are particularly prone to soil erosion and severe water accumulation; the ancient tombs we saw at the mountain pass are a prime example. However, if there is a spring lake within a “fish scale ridge,” it becomes entirely different. That would be called “fish coming to water,” where water exists within the fish scales, flowing out without drying up. In that case, it’s not just a fish but a young dragon that hasn’t transformed yet. If there are young people who died prematurely, they should be buried here.

Given this, the possibility of an ancient tomb here is indeed quite high. Unfortunately, I don’t know the burial details related to this type of terrain. To me, the surrounding mountains don’t seem very suitable for burials.

Once Yun Cai and the others finished setting up the shelter, they started collecting firewood on one side. The chubby guy, the guy with the hood, and I didn’t need to help; we began to circle the lake and roughly observe the surroundings.

The lake has shrunk to the size of just two football fields, and I quickly walked around it. Standing by the shore and looking into the lake, I felt that the bottom seemed to be entirely made of stones, and the depth varied greatly. In slightly shallower areas, I could see the bottom, but further down, it quickly faded into darkness, suggesting that the underwater depth might be quite significant. The lakeshore was covered with stones of various sizes, as Panma had mentioned, with a considerable difference in size. What caught my attention was how clean the lakeshore was; there were no debris at all, perhaps washed into the lake by the continuous heavy rain.

I have always harbored an inexplicable fear of extremely deep lakes. As the saying goes, “Shallow water does not harbor dragons; deep water must have monsters.” The greater the depth of the water, the larger the area the lake can hold, which means there could be strange things lurking within. Many large lakes around the world are known for water monsters; their surfaces may not be vast, but they are incredibly deep. Even if there are no oddities, deep waters are likely to host large fish. Some large reservoirs, when drained, often reveal extraordinarily huge fish.

After circling around, I did not see any obvious signs of bones. However, most of the stones on the lakeshore were quite fragmented. Over the past forty years, the water level here has constantly changed, and rocks have continuously rolled down, so the bones might have been pressed beneath the stones.

We speculated about the events that had occurred. Under normal circumstances, the archaeological team would likely be stationed on the southern side of the lake, while the other side is mountainous, posing risks of rockfalls and mudslides. Therefore, the area we needed to search should be on the southern side of the lake.

This was a significant undertaking, but fortunately, we brought a few dogs, although we were unsure if they would be of any help. The body had been submerged in water for so many years that it was certainly decomposed, and there might not be much difference between the bones and the stones.

After lunch, A Gui went to explore the surroundings to see if there was anything worth shooting. We began to divide the area for our search, with the clouds washing the sweat and odor from our clothes. The area by the lake was vast, and the three of us—Fatty, the Silent Oil Bottle, and I—each took a large section to begin our efforts.

What we needed to do was to move the stones one by one by hand. The situation with the stones here suggested that those closest to the shore had continuously rolled toward the center of the lake. However, the water level was gradually decreasing, and the accumulation of stones itself had a protective effect against rainwater erosion (rainwater would seep into the lower layers of the stone beach and gather as groundwater, rather than forming surface runoff; part of the Dujiangyan irrigation system operates on this principle). The slope of the lake bottom was steep, and back then, Panma could not have ventured too deep into the lake. Therefore, the place where the body was disposed of must have been very close to the shore, and with the water level having dropped significantly, the bones would not be in the lake but rather on the shore.

Fatty said that if the body was thrown in without any bindings, it would first become a floating corpse and then sink, being consumed by fish and shrimp. The bones would likely be scattered; the head might be here, while the torso could be a hundred meters away, making it impossible to find that way. Moreover, if the body wasn’t thrown into very deep water, it could have been dragged ashore by animals for feeding.

I said that regardless of the situation, it was unlikely that there would be no traces left at all. Chairman Mao once said that the thing to fear in this world is the word “serious.” Let’s start searching, and if we truly can’t find anything, we can analyze the reasons later.

Three people kept searching until the sun set, but still found nothing. A few hunting dogs were playing by the lake, completely ignoring us and showing no interest in helping. The sun by the lake was scorching; after a day of exposure, my head felt like it was on fire. Ah Gui fired his gun twice in the woods and brought back a wild chicken, and soon the aroma of roasted chicken made us unable to resist.

The胖子 (Fatty) couldn’t help but feel a bit down. While we were resting and smoking together, he said, “It seems hopeless. You should look for a place here where it might be safer to find the fat斗 (a term for a treasure or something valuable). We might not be able to find the dead.” I knew he was thinking about his ancient tomb, so I comforted him, saying that since we would be staying for several days, we could take our time. If we really couldn’t find the dead, I would go look for the fat斗 for him.

It was rare for me to feel so patient. After drinking some rice wine, we rested by the bonfire at the lake. It was both lakeside and mountainous, and the coolness was refreshing. The clouds had changed their attire, wearing light T-shirts, and after washing her hair, Yun Cai felt like a girl from the city. After dinner, she even danced for us. The Yao ethnic dance involved many spinning and kicking movements, and the Yao girls had particularly beautiful calves. Fatty was so mesmerized that his jaw dropped; he insisted on learning it, but he looked completely out of place, like he was trying to perform a ritual. I laughed so hard I almost fell over.

It had been a long time since I had laughed so freely. Eventually, I couldn’t laugh anymore, but when I glanced at the moody oil bottle (a nickname for a person), I saw him leaning against a rock, showing no signs of relaxation. At first glance, it was hard to even notice his presence.

I thought to myself that coming here to find his past might have been a mistake. From the clues we had gathered so far, it was clear that strategically we were in the right place. The journey had been easy for us, but for him, everything he encountered was like a knock on the door of his past, making it really difficult for him to relax.

He was the typical self-exiled type, his heart outside in the peach garden, smiling in the spring breeze, but no one could enter his heart.

Feeling a bit sympathetic, I picked up a small stone and threw it at him, saying, “Stop pondering. Let me tell you, I have experience. It’s useless to overthink it. What we’re doing now is piecing together a puzzle; before we find most of the pieces, let’s think less.” I handed him some rice wine.

The moody oil bottle silently took it and set it aside. I had a bit too much to drink, sighed, and said, “Can’t you take a sip?”

He shook his head, looking into the darkness beside him.

I had no choice but to shift my attention back to Fatty, who was coming up with riddles for us to guess. He asked Yun Cai, “What battle is it: kill a hundred enemies, but lose three thousand of your own?”

I was worried Fatty might come up with a lewd joke for the innocent girl; she was so pure that even mentioning such things felt like pollution, so I gave him a nudge. Fatty assured me that this riddle was definitely serious.

Ah Gui had also drunk too much and was giggling foolishly. After several incorrect guesses, the answer was revealed: it was the battle between the “Pee Hu” and “Thirteen Yao” in mahjong, where you win one hundred from the next player but lose thirty points to the one who hits you.

This kind of humor didn’t go over well in the Yao village, and Yun Cai didn’t understand it at all. I scolded him, saying, “Aren’t you just bullying her? Do you have any riddles that are a bit more down-to-earth?”

Fatty replied that he did, and asked us to guess: “What battle is it where you kill one enemy but lose three thousand of your own?”

“Wasps!” Yun Cai immediately raised her hand and answered.

Fatty clicked his tongue and said, “You little brat, are you trying to provoke me on purpose?”

We laughed heartily. I said, “That must be a battle between cavalry and tanks.” The chubby guy replied, “If it’s cavalry and tanks, even if they suffer ten thousand losses, they won’t take down a single enemy.”

Then we started guessing—some guessed it was about playing poker, others about ants, and some about eating abalone. The chubby guy kept saying we were wrong, looking smug as if he were mocking our intelligence.

I angrily said, “What the hell do you mean by that? If you’re just being ridiculous, I swear I’ll hit you.”

The chubby guy said, “This is too easy. Ah, I really have a unique talent. There’s a gap between me and you ordinary folks. Let me tell you, listen carefully: to kill one enemy, you suffer three thousand losses. It’s a battle between bananas and elephants.”

I was furious when I heard this and shouted, “What nonsense are you talking about? A battle between bananas and elephants? How could that possibly result in killing one enemy while suffering three thousand losses?”

The chubby guy replied, “The elephant got stuffed to death.”

We all burst into laughter, so much so that even the clouds seemed to be laughing until they could hardly breathe. But after a few laughs, we gradually quieted down because I noticed that the quiet guy, the one we called “Dumb Oil Bottle,” had silently stood up while we were in our uproar and walked toward the lake. He then sat down at a spot where the campfire barely reached.

There was a hint of fear in Yun Cai’s eyes as she looked at us and asked, “Does he think we’re too noisy?”

The chubby guy sighed, took a puff of his yellow tobacco leaves, and reassured her, “It’s fine, don’t mind him. He’s just going to take a dump.”

I looked at Dumb Oil Bottle and was about to stand up, but Yun Cai rushed ahead to walk over to him first.