That smell was the same as the one that Panma detected from the box later, only it was much more intense coming from the box. For Panma, it was completely the smell of the dead. Those demons, indistinguishable from humans or ghosts, surely carried that scent from the underworld.

“Your friend has that same smell. If it weren’t masked by the scent of herbs, I would have noticed it the first time I saw him,” Old Panma said to me. “He’s a monster from the lake, just like them!”

What kind of smell did the dull oil bottle have? I wasn’t very sensitive to smells; I wasn’t a hunter and didn’t have an excellent sense of smell, so I was somewhat skeptical—I thought I should sneak a sniff next time.

If things had ended there, perhaps this matter would have passed. After some time, one would start to doubt their own memories, automatically erasing the unexplained. But I knew things were far from over because, just like that, Old Panma wouldn’t have concluded that the dull oil bottle would end up harming me.

Sure enough, Panma continued to speak, saying that what happened next made him unable to forget that smell for the rest of his life. After that strange incident, Panma always felt uneasy. Although those people seemed exactly the same as before, he sensed something eerie in their eyes and expressions. This feeling had no factual basis; it was purely psychological. Panma had a premonition that something was going to happen in the village.

A few days later, an event occurred in the village that sent chills down his spine. Along with him in the crime were four others, all of whom were related by blood, albeit distantly. One of them was named Pang Ergui, who was the most timid and suddenly went missing. Panma and the others held a secret in their hearts, and their anxiety heightened; nobody dared to speak. The villagers searched the mountains for two days, and in the end, Panma and the others reluctantly returned to the lakeside, only to find Pang Ergui at the campsite, chatting and laughing with the members of the archaeological team.

They were baffled and brought him back. When Panma grabbed him, he noticed that the same mysterious smell was emanating from Pang Ergui as well. Panma looked at Pang Ergui and felt goosebumps rise during the day; he sensed that Pang Ergui’s expression was different from before, as if he had become a different person.

The fear was indescribable; he felt that Pang Ergui must have been possessed by a ghost. When he returned to the village, he warned Pang Ergui’s wife to let him know immediately if she noticed anything unusual about her husband.

However, his wife never got the chance to find out. The next day, when she got up, she discovered that Pang Ergui had hanged himself beside the bed. The entire house was filled with that strange smell.

The villagers thought Pang Ergui must have been depressed or possessed by a fox spirit. Panma understood in his heart, and in his growing anxiety, he became even more convinced that those people were monsters and that Pang Ergui had definitely been bewitched.

Pang Ergui’s wife was terrified and no longer dared to stay in that house, moving back to her family home, leaving the house abandoned. The other few were scared out of their wits; two moved out of the village, while Panma and another stayed behind, too frightened to sleep at night, borrowing several dogs, fearing they would be next.

But the dog was of no use either. A week later, another person who had stayed with him also went missing. Two days later, a child discovered him in the abandoned house of Pang Ergui, where he had hanged himself in the same spot as Pang Ergui.

Pan Ma was naturally strong-willed and had grown up alongside the mountains, making him very resilient. When he reached the peak of his fear, he instead decided to take action. Armed with a gun, he rushed to the lakeside, thinking that since he was going to die anyway, he might as well understand the situation before he went. He would never just sit and wait. However, after he entered the mountains, the archaeological team happened to set off.

Pan Ma encountered the team halfway. It seemed they no longer needed a guide. Although Pan Ma had made up his mind to be resolute, he softened up upon seeing them and nervously followed the team out of the mountains.

As Pan Ma later recounted, the archaeological team left the village with a box that emitted a strange odor and never returned, not even to this day. The people who fled to the other two villages did not encounter any problems. Pan Ma, filled with trepidation, gradually managed to calm down over the course of a year, believing they had truly left.

This incident haunted Pan Ma like a nightmare, and I can imagine the kind of fear he experienced. Half a month after the army left, he returned to the lakeside to figure out what had really happened. After walking around the lake, he discovered a piece of clothing that had somehow washed ashore. Inside that clothing, he found a strange iron block.

The discovery of this iron block confirmed to him that these people must have crawled out of the lake, as the block could not have been washed ashore by the water while being inside the clothing. The iron block emitted a chilling odor, and he felt it was significant, so he kept it with him. In his earlier years of poverty, he had thought about selling it, but now that his life was gradually improving, he remembered those times with a sense of dread and decided to keep this secret, taking it with him to the grave.

Then, we appeared.

Pan Ma’s secret ends here.

After listening, I fell into deep contemplation for a long time. Unusually, I did not feel more confused; for the first time, I felt as if I had found a chain that could link the doubts in my heart together.

These mysteries were like double-headed rebar, with each connection representing a puzzle. However, connecting two of these puzzles would eliminate two others, and if all the rebar were linked together, then many of the mysteries might only leave the two at the ends. Thus, connecting the doubts one by one was quite satisfying.

If it had been the old me, I would have gone crazy, but now I have learned not to focus on the essence of the problem. I clearly realized the truth of the matter; this needed verification. If my thoughts were correct, then the questions that my uncle, or rather, Jie Lianhuan, had long wondered about would finally have answers.

And to verify this matter, I had to go to that lakeside.

Panma Laodie took out the iron block for me to see. It was indeed the same as the one found under the bed of the oil bottle—an iron lump with ancient patterns on it, though Panma’s piece was slightly larger. I took a moment to smell it, and I detected a strange scent, very faint and almost indistinguishable. Laodie said that when it was first discovered, the smell was strong, but gradually it faded away little by little. The iron block had been kept at home, and there were no insects at all.

I temporarily lost interest in this object, my mind filled with my own speculations. Panma was unwilling to go back to the lakeside, so I thought about having A Gui find another guide. I handed the money to Panma and stood up to take my leave.

As I reached the door, I suddenly remembered something else and turned back to ask, “By the way, Laodie, how did you get that tattoo on you?”

Panma looked at me, a bit surprised by my sudden question. His son explained for him, “This is a protective tattoo against curses, done by a Miao shaman who passed by when he was a child. At that time, my grandfather saved his life, and as a thank you, he tattooed this on my father. It is said that with this tattoo, you can travel freely in Miao villages without anyone causing you trouble.”