In front of me, just out of reach, was a huge, pale human face. Its skin looked like it had been soaked in the sea for countless years, swollen to a transparent color. The most chilling part was that its two eerie eyes had no whites; the black pupils almost filled the entire eye sockets, making it look like a grotesque corpse with its eyes gouged out at first glance.

This sight nearly drove me insane. I let out a desperate scream, pushed it away, and scrambled forward, my mind fixated on one word: escape. But the corridor was too narrow for two people to pass; I was stuck with my companion, the “Fatty,” unable to move. Seeing that I couldn’t squeeze past, I grabbed him and shouted, “Ghost! There’s a water ghost!” He quickly covered my mouth and whispered, “Don’t shout! Where’s the water ghost?”

I turned around and pointed frantically behind me, “Right behind us, just—”

Before I could finish, I froze, my heart sinking. Behind me was nothing—no face, no hair, not even a drop of water. My finger almost poked Fatty in the face, leaving him bewildered as he said, “What the hell, you’re the ghost.”

I was stunned, quickly leaning out to look around, searching everywhere, but it was truly gone. But it didn’t make sense; the feeling had been so real, it couldn’t have been an illusion. Had this ancient tomb really driven me to a psychological breakdown? My heart was still racing, and my mind was a fog, leaving me unsure of how to react.

Seeing my face turn pale, Fatty tried to comfort me, saying, “What’s going on? Don’t panic, take your time to explain.”

I stammered, “I just saw a lot of hair, a naked woman, and a water ghost! It wanted to kiss me!”

My thoughts were chaotic, and I couldn’t articulate what I was saying. Eventually, Fatty grew impatient and said, “Xiao Wu, you’re not dreaming, are you? If there really was a water ghost, it would have to crawl over me first, right?” He patted my shoulder and added, “But you’re in your twenties; dreaming of a naked woman is normal. When I was young, I dreamed of plenty too, so it’s nothing.”

I cursed, “Don’t mock me! That was definitely not a dream! Look, my neck is still wet; it was from it!” I showed them my neck, and both Fatty and the “Dumb Oil Bottle” felt it, frowning slightly. Fatty even looked up at the brick ceiling of the theft hole, thinking water might be leaking down. I told him that was impossible since the gaps between the bricks were sealed with white mortar, making it very water-tight.

Fatty puzzled, “That’s strange. There’s only one path here; logically, if something crawled over you, I’d have to know about it.”

I replied, “Could it be that you were asleep? You wouldn’t know if something crawled over you.”

Fatty retorted, “Shut up! Even if I was asleep, I’d still know if someone crawled over me! And besides, in a place like this, how could you sleep? If you don’t believe me, check if there are any footprints on my back!” With that, he turned around for us to inspect his back.

At that moment, I had already regained my composure and didn’t expect that thing to be clinging to his back. As the fat guy turned around, it turned its head toward me, and its mouth nearly touched the tip of my nose. I was so scared that my throat seized up, and I let out a squeak as I desperately backed away. But after crawling just a couple of steps, I suddenly felt a tightness around my feet. Looking down, I found that my calves were entangled in hair that I didn’t even notice had wrapped around me. I tried to pull my foot free with all my might, but it wouldn’t budge. At the same time, a mass of hair began to wrap around me, trying to crawl into my mouth. The thing I feared most in my life was having hair in my mouth, so I frantically used my hands to block it. In the midst of the chaos, the muted oil bottle suddenly grabbed my collar and pulled me toward him.

He had barely pulled me a few steps when his own hand got tangled in the hair, and he couldn’t pull me anymore. I turned around to see that the fat guy was already wrapped up like a cocoon, twisting inside, but that thing had vanished. The entire tomb passage was filled with hair, as if we had entered a black spider’s lair.

The muted oil bottle forcefully pulled his hand out and quickly asked me, “Do you have any source of fire? This thing is afraid of fire!”

I checked the waist pouch at my side and pulled out a windproof lighter, feeling overjoyed. This lighter was something I had asked the boat captain for when we were having fish head hotpot on the boat, and after using it, I had just stuffed it in my pocket. I never expected it would turn out to be a lifesaver. Thinking quickly, I started to light the hair on my body. Although the hair was quite wet, it could still burn and break off in large clumps, and I managed to free myself in just a few moments. I rushed over to the fat guy and was about to pull him when suddenly, a gigantic face emerged from the pile of hair beside me and almost instantly lunged onto my back.

I thought it was over; there was no time to dodge. I lowered my head and threw a punch instinctively. This was purely a reflex born from extreme fear. I didn’t know how much strength I used, but I heard a loud smack as I punched its nose, causing it to cave in and spew out a mass of black liquid. Fortunately, I had the windproof lighter in my hand, which surprisingly didn’t go out. Gritting my teeth, I wanted to hit it again, but I noticed that the creature shuddered and recoiled slightly.

Suddenly, a light bulb went off in my head. There was a way out! Damn it, it turned out that ghosts were afraid of bad people, and this ghost was afraid of fists. My mind got a bit muddled, and I became excited, lifting my foot and kicking it squarely in the face, knocking it back into the hair. Afraid that another kick would get me entangled again, I quickly stepped back a few paces, raised the lighter, and confronted it.

That face was hidden in the hair, showing a very resentful expression, but it was wary of the fire and didn’t dare to rush forward. At that moment, the muted oil bottle pulled out a few wet fire starters from somewhere, rubbed them against my lighter, and they ignited. With the increased flames, the creature let out a shriek and actually began to retreat. I saw it shrink back quickly, freeing the fat guy, and I seized the opportunity to burn off the hair that was wrapped around the fat guy’s head.

The muffled oil bottle kept pushing the monster until it disappeared into the darkness before finally letting go. At this point, the fire starter was almost burning his hand. I looked down at the fat guy, only to see that his nose and mouth were filled with broken hair, and his face was turning blue from suffocation. I hurriedly pounded on his chest, and he suddenly gasped for air, expelling a large mass of black substance from his nostrils.

I let out a sigh of relief; fortunately, the fat guy had a strong lung capacity and managed to clear his airway by himself. Otherwise, even if it meant my death, I wouldn’t sacrifice myself to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

After gasping for a while, the fat guy coughed up the remaining substance from his airway and weakly asked us, “My grandma, what on earth was that thing?”

I extinguished the lighter that I had been gripping tightly, feeling that it had become scalding hot; the skin on my hand felt like it was burning off. The muffled oil bottle was not much better off; he shook his hand and said to the fat guy, “That should be a ‘Jin Po.'”

I had heard of this thing from Old Hai of Hero Mountain, but I didn’t quite believe it. I gasped and asked, “Is there really such a thing as a ‘Jin Po’?”

The muffled oil bottle nodded and said, “I don’t know how this thing comes about, but there are many legends about it in this generation. It shouldn’t be wrong.”

I found it strange and asked him for more details, but he only shook his head and said, “The ‘Jin Po’ is born from water; I know it definitely fears fire. Other than that, I really don’t know. It’s like zongzi (sticky rice dumplings)—throughout history, we only know that zongzi fear the black donkey’s hoof, but no one knows why. I just didn’t expect this thing to have thoughts. We must be careful; it must still be hiding behind us.”

The fat guy, still shaken, moved closer to us and asked, “It’s strange; with such good feng shui in this tomb, how come there are so many bizarre things inside?”

I couldn’t be sure if the feng shui of this tomb was good, but I had indeed researched some information about the ‘Jin Po.’ In the mountainous regions, it actually represents shamans and mediums among ethnic minorities. However, in old coastal legends, it is the most malevolent ghost in the world. I don’t know why there is such a discrepancy. Generally, the fate of a ‘Jin Po’ is worse than that of a human—if captured, it is usually dismembered and then buried alive. Speaking of the origin of the ‘Jin Po,’ it is generally related to pregnant women, and the ear chamber where the corpse coffin is kept is probably connected to this thing. Uncle Three also mentioned the mural of a big belly; the presence of the ‘Jin Po’ here should not be a coincidence and might have been intentionally placed by the tomb owner.

Thinking of this, the muffled oil bottle, worried that the thing might come back, waved for us to continue moving forward. I listened carefully to the top of the theft hole; there was no sound anymore. I didn’t know who had just passed by. With such a commotion from us below, perhaps it had already heard us. It wasn’t wise to linger here; we should clear the way quickly.

I looked at the fat guy, and he indicated that he was okay. Seeing that he also didn’t want to stay here, I had him turn on his flashlight and hang it on his belt so that we could keep an eye on things behind us. I held the lighter in my hand and continued to move forward.

We crawled forward for a while, and the tunnel suddenly began to zigzag upward. I glanced to the side and realized that it had been dug all the way here. Ahead was the tomb wall, and I estimated that outside was the sea. The only option was to change direction and look for an exit upward. Perhaps this thought process of solving the puzzle was similar to ours, trying to find a way out from the top of the tomb.

From the moment we entered this tunnel until now, it had only been about half an hour. It seemed that this underwater tomb was not very large. As we progressed, I got a rough sense of its dimensions. In fact, the length and width of this chamber were not extensive; the main issue was its height. I could estimate the height to be nearly thirty meters. If we used the current standard of three meters per floor, this tomb must be about ten stories deep beneath the sea. While impressive, it wasn’t exactly a miracle.

We couldn’t go back, so we had to keep climbing. After a while, suddenly, the “dumb bottle” (a nickname for my companion) stopped moving. I pushed him a bit, and he turned back, whispering, “There’s no way forward.”

I was taken aback; that couldn’t be possible. I hurried to squeeze in front to take a look, and indeed, we had reached a dead end blocked by several large slabs of blue granite. I pushed against one of the slabs; they were very heavy, but they weren’t impossible to move. The two of us tried to lift it together, managing to create a small gap. Immediately, we noticed light seeping down from the chamber above. Just as we were puzzled, the slab directly above us suddenly disappeared when I loosened my grip.