This short sentence captivated all my thoughts: “The fish is with me…” What fish? Could it be the snake-eyed bronze fish? According to the patterns on the ancient tombstone carvings, this strange bronze fish should consist of three pieces connected end to end. I currently have two pieces, so there should indeed be one more that completes the set. Could this cryptic message imply that the last fish is in his possession?
The sender of this information, since he has this photo and knows about the fish, could he be one of the missing persons from that time? I carefully scrolled through this webpage and noted that it was posted two years ago. Thankfully, this website hasn’t gone offline; otherwise, this information would have long disappeared from the internet. Besides this sentence, there was no signature or contact information.
I felt a sense of discord; since it was a missing person inquiry, why didn’t he leave his contact information? Isn’t that pointless? I tried various searches on Google, hoping to find more information, but after searching repeatedly, this was the only related piece I could find.
I couldn’t help but feel frustrated, but this was still a significant discovery. At least it showed that two years ago, someone was still paying attention to a twenty-year-old case. So who exactly was this person?
Before long, the damn storm finally passed. The day after the storm, a Qiongsha boat arrived from Qinglan Port in Wenchang. Since we had nothing left to do here, we packed our bags and prepared to leave.
Before we left, we went to the military medical clinic to look for A-Ning, but she was already gone. When we asked the doctor, he said that a group of foreigners had suddenly come through the storm a few days ago and took her away. He thought she was with us, and the strong winds had damaged the phone lines in their area, which hadn’t been repaired, so he hadn’t informed us.
I understood; it must have been A-Ning’s contacts on the island who took her away. The storm had sealed off the small island for days, and even if we had wanted to stop it, there was nothing we could do. The fat guy cursed, saying she had gotten away too easily, while I couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. I had no idea how to deal with her; I couldn’t kill her, nor could I torture her for information. This situation was actually quite favorable for me; if she wanted to leave, then let her go. After all, she hadn’t done anything to us.
However, their company entering Haidou didn’t seem as simple as just rescuing someone. What was their true purpose? What had happened between my third uncle and them? Where was he now? These hidden secrets, I wondered when they would surface from the tranquil blue waters of Xisha.
To cut a long story short, we took the Qiongsha boat back to the mainland. Two days later, at Haikou Airport, I said goodbye to the dull oil bottle and the fat guy, boarding a plane to Hangzhou. Life in reality was surprisingly smooth; four hours later, I was back home in Hangzhou.
After a long period of intense activity, I was exhausted. For the next few days, I buried myself in sleep, only getting up once a day, usually awakened by hunger. I would randomly grab something from the fridge to eat and then lie back down. Unbeknownst to me, two weeks passed. A friend thought I had died at home and came to check on me, which made me realize that I had rested enough.
Sleeping too much made me feel uncomfortable all over. I first called Wang Meng to ask about the situation at the shop. Everything was normal except for the lack of business, which was actually quite typical; it was strange if there was business when the boss wasn’t around. Then I called various relatives, including my aunts and uncles, anyone who had dealings with my third uncle, to see if they knew his whereabouts, but there were no results. Finally, I called my uncle’s shop, and one of the assistants answered the phone. I asked him, “Has Wu Sanye come back?”
The assistant hesitated for a moment and said, “Sanye hasn’t come back, but there was a strange guy who claimed to be your brother and insisted that we tell him where you are. I don’t know where he came from, but he seemed slick and shifty, not like a good person, so I sent him away. He left a phone number; do you want to call it?”
I was taken aback and felt it was strange. I had many acquaintances, but I couldn’t think of anyone who would go to my uncle’s place looking for me. After thinking for a moment, I asked him, “How old is that guy?”
“I can’t say for sure, probably around your age, maybe a bit older. He has a buzz cut, slanted eyes, a high nose bridge, wears glasses, and has an earring. He looks neither here nor there.”
“Neither here nor there?” I repeated these words, wondering who it could be. Suddenly, my heart skipped a beat, and I asked the assistant, “Does that guy speak a bit awkwardly?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah… that guy stutters so much that it takes him a long time to finish a sentence.”
I couldn’t help but smile, already knowing who it was. I quickly asked for the phone number and called it right away. In a short while, the call connected, and a voice that was both familiar and unfamiliar came through, “Who—who—who is it? (stuttering)”
I chuckled and said, “Damn it, you can’t even recognize my voice?”
He froze for a moment, then let out a few excited sounds and shouted, “It’s been three—three—three years since I heard you speak, of course I couldn’t—couldn’t recognize you! Look at your voice, it has really matured.”
I couldn’t help but feel a pang in my heart, almost wanting to cry, and cursed, “You still have the face to talk to me? You haven’t contacted me at all for years; I thought you were dead!”
The person on the other end was Lao Yang. I had forgotten his real name. He and I grew up together, sharing everything. For a while, we were so close that we were practically like one person. His family was relatively poor, and after graduating from college, he couldn’t find a job, so he came to work at my shop. Although he didn’t speak fluently, he was particularly good at charming people. We clicked well, and we ran our little business together, living a carefree life.
Unexpectedly, three years ago, this kid went down the wrong path and followed a guy from Jiangxi to dig for treasure in the Qinling Mountains, only to get caught. That guy was sentenced to life in prison, while Lao Yang managed to talk his way into being seen as a good youth misled by social evils, resulting in a three-year prison sentence. At first, I wanted to see him, but he was too proud to meet me. Later, I moved, and we lost contact. I never expected that he would be out of prison now.
Speaking of him going to dig for treasures, I have a lot to do with it. Ever since I was young, I bragged in front of him about how amazing my grandfather was, and I even showed off my grandfather’s treasures in front of him. I guess he must have developed some crooked ideas about treasure hunting back then. This kid has a lot of guts; when I suggested ideas to him as a child, he would get into trouble. I never expected that he would actually dare to take action on something as risky as this.
We have three years’ worth of stories to tell, and once we start talking, we can’t stop! I could talk until my mouth cramps, and my phone gets hot, but it still wouldn’t be enough. Excitedly, I said to him, “Hey, are you free tonight? I want to treat you to a feast; let’s eat and drink to our heart’s content.”
Old Yang was equally excited and replied, “Well, that sounds great! I haven’t had a big chunk of meat in three years; I want to enjoy it this time!”
So it was settled. I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep. I took a hasty shower, tidied up the house, and went to the agreed hotel to wait for that kid. I ordered one of everything with big chunks of meat from the menu. By evening, he showed up, and when I saw him, I was shocked—this kid, after three years in prison, had actually gained weight.
When the two old friends met, without saying a word, we downed half a bottle of Wuliangye, reminiscing about the past and reflecting on our current situations. We couldn’t help but sigh as we drank until we were full. The plates on the table were turned upside down, and only then did we realize we had run out of things to say.
By that time, I had drunk too much, and my mind was hazy, so I brought up the incident from back then, burping and asking him, “Tell me the truth, what the hell did you dig up back then? Your cousin from Jiangxi even got sentenced to life imprisonment!”
As soon as I said it, I regretted it, thinking to myself, why did I bring this up? I might stir up his painful memories, and then I wouldn’t know how to smooth things over.
To my surprise, when he heard my question, he actually looked pleased and, with a smirk, said, “What I dug up was quite something, heh heh, it’s not that I won’t tell you— even if I do tell you, you wouldn’t understand.”
Seeing his contempt for me, I got angry: “Oh please, I’m not the naive kid I was three years ago! As long as you can describe its shape, I can figure out what it is from the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties!”
Old Yang looked at me seriously and laughed, “With that bear-like appearance of yours, you still dare to mention the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, and Qing!” As he spoke, he dipped his chopsticks in the wine and drew a strange shape on the table. “Have you ever seen this thing?”
With my drunken eyes, I looked a few times but couldn’t see clearly. It looked like a tree and also like a pillar. I cursed, “You donkey! After three years in prison, you haven’t improved at all in drawing. What do you call this? It looks like a club!”
Old Yang said, “You just try to make sense of it! With that kind of look in your eyes, you’re only fit to see this kind of drawing!”
I took a closer look, and it was indeed incomprehensible. I said to him, “God knows what you drew! Look at these branches; you mean patterns, right? It looks like tree branches. This drawing is too poor; I can’t make it out!”
Old Yang smiled smugly and lowered his voice, saying mysteriously, “Don’t underestimate it—this is indeed a tree fork, a bronze tree fork the thickness of a wrist!?”
As soon as I heard “yo he,” I realized this guy had actually unearthed a bronze artifact, which was quite reckless. Giving him a three-year sentence was already a good deal. I said to him, “How heavy could this thing be? Instead of digging up small items, you go for something so massive. Aren’t you just asking to get caught?”
He patted my shoulder, peeled a taro, threw it into his mouth, and said, “You don’t understand the situation back then; that place was different from what you imagine. It’s a long story.”
I had a bit of knowledge about bronze artifacts, pondering the thing he had drawn. It reminded me of the bronze sacred trees that were recently excavated from Sanxingdui, which looked somewhat similar.
Sanxingdui is a relic of ancient Shu, and strictly speaking, it’s already beyond the realm of our antique trading; the era is too distant, and the items are too precious. No price would be considered too high. If there were such things in the area where Old Yang went, I wouldn’t know whether to say he was lucky or unfortunate.
I suddenly became interested in this item, so I asked him what it was like back then. He had drunk too much and didn’t think to hide anything; he recounted everything in detail.
At that time, they had been trekking in the Qinling Mountains for over ten days. Besides the endless primitive forests, they hadn’t found anything and were almost out of supplies.
Old Yang and his cousin actually had no basic knowledge of tomb raiding; they were just filled with enthusiasm. At that moment, his cousin had already lost hope and wanted to turn back, but Old Yang insisted on continuing, which is why they didn’t head back immediately.
On that day, they stumbled upon a valley hidden among the towering mountains. They had seen many valleys over the past few days, but this time, Old Yang noticed something different.
The geographical environment here was very peculiar—at a low altitude with high temperatures. In the center of the valley, there was a vast area of old banyan trees. Wow, that forest! Who knows how many banyan trees there were that ten people couldn’t wrap their arms around? They blocked out the sky and sun, and the roots of the banyan trees covered the ground, leaving almost no gaps to walk.
Upon seeing this scene, Old Yang’s cousin felt something was off. The scale of the banyan forest didn’t seem like it was naturally formed.
There’s an old saying in the land of immortals: “Where grass and trees grow abnormally, there may be problems underground or nearby; perhaps there’s an ancient tomb.” This means that in places where vegetation grows unusually, there might be something wrong beneath the surface.
The roots of the banyan trees intertwined like snakes, making the forest much denser than ordinary woods. Entering it would likely be quite challenging, but thinking about how they had already endured so much hardship without finding anything, his cousin felt uneasy and, with a determined heart, led Old Yang into the forest.
They kept walking until sunset, slowly approaching the heart of the forest. Surrounding them, the calls of night owls echoed, and the light was extremely dim. They turned on their flashlights and slowed their pace to avoid getting lost.
At that moment, his cousin tripped over something and nearly fell. Old Yang hurried to support him and turned around to see that it was a banyan root bundle underfoot, wrapped around something that was sticking up above the ground.
They used a short axe to chop off a few of the rootlets of the banyan bundle, exposing what was inside. When they shone their flashlights on it, they discovered a moss-covered stone figure, and judging by its attire, it seemed to be from before the Han Dynasty, intricately engraved with beautiful totemic patterns.
The appearance of the stone man made Lao Yang and the others immediately realize that there was indeed something in this forest. The old saying was not wrong after all…
They looked around the stone man and soon discovered that beneath the fallen leaves and mud of the banyan forest, there were many large stone slabs buried, seemingly remnants of an ancient path. The stone man was located on one side of this ancient stone road, appearing to be a guardian figure of the path.
Could this layout be part of the spirit road of an imperial tomb? Lao Yang thought: When they were still dozens of miles away in that small village, an old man had said that there were several Western Jin marquises buried in these mountains. Could it be that after all this hard work, they had truly stumbled upon something significant?
If that were the case, all the hardships they had endured over the past few days would be worth it.
He and his cousin discussed it and decided to follow the ancient path to see if there were any ancient tombs nearby, as there would surely be some traces left behind.
They trekked along the ancient path for several more hours, entering the heart of the forest. On both sides of the stone path, they discovered many remnants of stone figures, some lying across the path, others entangled within the trees, covered in moss. The signs of the spirit road were becoming increasingly clear.
Lao Yang and the others were secretly excited and quickened their pace. However, strangely, the aerial roots around them became denser the further they went along the path. Eventually, they had to cut through the roots to barely make their way through, as if the trees here did not want strangers walking this road.
They continued walking until late at night, exhausted, when they finally saw moonlight filtering through the gaps in the trees ahead. Lao Yang felt that they might be reaching the end of the stone path. They climbed over a pile of large stones and cut through the last aerial root, emerging from the banyan forest.
Suddenly, under the moonlight, a massive downward-concave, inverted pyramid-shaped stone pit appeared in their view, measuring as large as a football field. It resembled a gigantic bowl, nestled in the middle of the forest, with the slopes around the pit shaped into steps, numbering over a hundred, leading down to the bottom of the pit.
Lao Yang was almost dumbfounded at that moment. He had never imagined that the end of the stone path would lead to such a spectacular ancient architectural ruin. His heart raced, and his legs nearly gave way as he felt compelled to kneel and bow to the pit.
But it was clear that this was not an ancient tomb. So what place was this, and from which dynasty did it originate?
Lao Yang’s cousin, who had some knowledge of the occult, was also shocked at the sight. He said to Lao Yang, “This must be related to some kind of sacrificial ritual. It looks like an altar. Let’s hurry down and see if there are any ritual objects in the pit.”
At this point, the white crescent moon had risen in the sky, casting a dim light. They turned on their flashlights to avoid tripping over the snake-like roots and nervously descended the stone steps to the bottom of the pit.
The entire pit was concealed by the aerial roots of the surrounding banyan trees. If it weren’t for following the ancient path, even walking nearby, one would not have found this place. The stone slabs inside the pit were almost all cracked into puzzle-like pieces, with numerous roots squeezing out from the stones and inserting themselves into the gaps nearby. The entire site had been irreparably damaged.
The bottom of the pit was also covered with a thick layer of weeds, with only a few places showing traces of the blue stone slabs beneath.
The weeds were as tall as half a person. They advanced while cutting through the vegetation with machetes, and soon arrived at the center of the altar. In the center of the altar, there was a pit surrounded by a circle of stones. The pit was about ten meters deep, and when they shone their flashlight down, they saw that the bottom was also covered in grass. They used ropes to descend into the pit, first looking around and finding nothing of interest, so they directly struck down with a Luoyang shovel.
The first strike reached fifteen meters deep without hitting the bottom. Lao Yang pulled it out, broke apart the clumps of mud, and discovered that the mud contained charcoal, as if a large number of items had been burned. Among the charcoal, they also found several fragments of pottery and jade pieces. The carbon-rich soil in the pit was a remnant of the sacrificial offerings, and the leftover pottery and jade pieces were indeed part of the offerings at that time. It seemed that this pit had been used on multiple occasions to burn sacrifices for the deceased.
At this point, Lao Yang could hardly contain his excitement. Historically, during sacrificial rites, a large number of exquisite bronze and jade artifacts were often burned. If they could excavate even one or two, they would strike it rich. They began to dig with shovels, taking turns and working tirelessly. Before long, they had dug down about seven meters, uncovering a large number of fragments of jade and pottery, so many that they lost count. There were jade pieces, jade discs, clay pots, clay jars—almost everything you could think of. Soon, one side was piled high with these items.
Unfortunately, most of the jade and pottery were broken, which had little market value, leaving Lao Yang and the others quite disappointed. Most disappointing of all was the absence of the bronze artifacts they were hoping for. Undeterred, they continued digging. Soon they reached a depth of ten meters but still found nothing of worth. Digging beyond ten meters was risky due to the potential for cave-ins from any previous looting tunnels, so they had to stop.
Lao Yang’s cousin was more cautious, suggesting that since they had dug for so long without finding anything, it was likely that no bronze sacrificial vessels had been used at the altar. He proposed they stop digging and at least salvage the broken pieces to recover their costs, chalking it up to bad luck. However, Lao Yang was not willing to give up. No matter what his cousin said, he insisted on continuing. He sent his cousin up and kept digging alone for about two more hours, reaching over fourteen meters deep when suddenly, there was a clang as his shovel hit something metallic.
Lao Yang and his cousin exchanged glances and leaned down to look. In the center of the pit, a dark green protrusion appeared. They had indeed found a bronze artifact! Lao Yang’s heart raced, and his hands trembled. His cousin let out a cheer, dropped his shovel, and jumped into the pit. The two of them began to dig at the protrusion with their hands.
Soon, a strange object came into view—it was a bronze rod, though its exact nature was unclear. As they cleared away the surface carbon soil, a beautifully crafted bronze branch appeared before them. They were both overjoyed; they had never seen anything like it, and it must be worth a fortune. Eagerly, they set to work to excavate the item. They dug down a few meters with their hands but could not reach the bottom. So, they switched to using shovels, digging deeper and deeper, but even after digging six or seven more meters, the bronze branch still seemed to extend further down.
Lao Yang began to feel something was strange. His experience in antiques told him that there were very few bronze artifacts taller than three meters. However, the object before him, by conservative estimates, was at least twenty meters high, which was highly unusual. What else was buried beneath this mud?
The excavation hole was nearly twenty meters deep, and continuing to dig would surely lead to a collapse. But going back empty-handed was truly frustrating. The two of them stood there, puzzled, not knowing what to do.
In the end, it was his cousin who came up with a solution. About a meter away from the base of the bronze branch, he angled a Luoyang shovel head toward the direction of the bronze branch and began to drive it in. He then used a ribbed steel pipe, driving it down at an angle until he reached about ten meters deep. Suddenly, the sound of the steel pipe hitting the ground became muffled, and he could no longer drive it down.
At this point, Lao Yang’s expression became a bit unnatural. He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and said, “That means the part of the bronze branch beneath the mud is at least another ten meters long. So the total length is at least thirty meters. A thing this large, even if we could dig it out, we wouldn’t be able to take it back.”
I was taken aback, thinking he was exaggerating. The Simuwu Ding, the largest bronze artifact currently in existence, was unearthed in Wu Guanzhuang Village, Anyang, Henan, and it was only a little over a meter tall. At that time, casting something that big required nearly two to three hundred people working together. Wouldn’t casting a bronze tree over thirty meters tall require thousands of people?
But seeing how adamant he was, I didn’t want to argue. I asked, “So what happened next? Did you continue digging?”
Lao Yang replied, “No, I wanted to dig, but my cousin suddenly said that this thing might be a divine object, perhaps it really grew out of the ground, and we couldn’t dig anymore. Later, I thought about it and realized that continuing to dig was too risky, so I gave up—strange, right? I suspect that this tree branch is still part of a larger bronze artifact, and whatever is below it might be even bigger. If we were to excavate it all, it would probably shock the world.”
I asked curiously, “So you didn’t move that bronze tree out? How did you get caught?”
He said, “This is a strange story. At that time, we were unwilling to give up and dug a few more holes elsewhere. We managed to unearth some complete pots and pans. After leaving the Qinling Mountains, we wanted to find a place to sell the stolen goods. But ever since my cousin saw that object, he became paranoid. Whenever we got into town, he would start talking about the bronze tree branches. The Qinling area has always been fiercely opposed to tomb robbing, and the rumors were tight. When we went to an antique shop to sell our finds, a few people overheard my cousin’s ramblings and figured out our identities, reporting us! Luckily, the police officer who caught me was from the same hometown. Seeing that I was still young, he let me off with a three-year sentence, saying I was “duped.” My cousin originally faced four to five years, but unexpectedly, he went crazy and revealed everything he had done in the past, resulting in a life sentence. He almost got executed.”
I exclaimed, “Oh! You really drew the short straw. After all that effort, you ended up with nothing. I’ve told you so many times not to sell stolen goods locally. You’re doing business in a shady line of work, clashing with the locals. That’s what we call instant karma.”
The old man smiled mysteriously and said, “Well, I can’t say I haven’t gained anything—look at this thing—Ding?” As he spoke, he pointed to his earrings!