Chapter 113

There is no love without reason in this world, nor hatred without cause, and the sky does not suddenly thunder for no reason during the day; in this ominous air, it seems a great change is brewing.

Besides the lightning flashing through the gaps in the clouds, everything around was already too dark to see, so I had to turn the tactical searchlight on my climbing helmet back on, preparing to go to the other end of the treetop to investigate, but I discovered that Pangzi, who was supposed to open the coffin with me, had vanished; I hurriedly asked Shirley Yang: "Did you see Little Fatty?"

Shirley Yang shrugged; she had just discovered some strange things at the bottom of the jade coffin, and with the sky suddenly darkening, she hadn't noticed where Pangzi went; we urgently searched all around—how could such a big living person vanish in the blink of an eye? There was not even a sound; I looked around and discovered a shoe beside the jade coffin, not someone else's, but exactly the one Pangzi was wearing.

At this moment, from inside the completely sealed jade coffin, came several "thump-thump-thump" knocks; to me and Shirley Yang, this sound was more startling and heart-pounding than the thunder in the sky.

I couldn't afford to be afraid at this moment; I called Shirley Yang to hurry and help open the coffin to rescue the person—how did this guy Pangzi get inside the jade coffin? Could it be that the grave-robbing specialist was instead grabbed by the zongzi inside the coffin and pulled in? But the gaps in this jade coffin were sealed tight with corpse wax, except for a few small cracks, there was no other opening; Pangzi is such a big guy—how did he get inside? This is practically an antimatter phenomenon.

Shirley Yang, however, was more cautious: "Don't rush; first figure out what's going on. We can't be certain now that the movement inside the jade coffin must be Pangzi's doing."

I said to Shirley Yang: "Can't we not rush? If we don't act soon, even the cucumber dishes will get cold. If you're afraid, I'll do it alone—I must drag Pangzi out no matter what. I really don't believe a single coffin could scare us into this state."

After saying that, I didn't wait for Shirley Yang's agreement, put on my gas mask, rolled up my sleeves, and went to pull the jade coffin's lid. The coffin lid was sealed extremely tight, and in my haste it was difficult to open, so I had Shirley Yang use her paratrooper knife to scrape off the corpse wax stuck in the lid's seam. All I could hear was the knocking sound from inside the jade coffin, which came and went, then gradually fell silent.

I was sweating profusely from my frantic efforts; seeing that there was suddenly no movement, I thought Pangzi had probably finished playing and gone off to sell candy for coolness. Just as I was growing anxious, my ankle suddenly tightened—someone had grabbed me with their hand. Instinctively, I raised my climbing pickaxe and swung backward to strike, but then I heard someone behind me say: "Commander Hu, for the sake of the Party and the State, pull your brother up quickly—there's a big hole in this tree that could damn well kill me if I fall."

I turned around and saw the speaker was indeed Pangzi, who was struggling to climb out of a tree hollow behind me. I hurriedly reached out and pulled Pangzi up. The mouth of this tree hollow was overgrown with various dense parasitic plants, like a natural trap—if you didn't step on it, you'd never notice it. Such big and small holes, who knows how many there are on this old banyan tree, all covered with plant vines and green moss; stepping on a small one easily sprains your ankle, and if it's a big one, your whole body could fall in. Moreover, the plants around the hole are soft and yielding; once someone falls in, they immediately close up, making it very hard to detect.

It turned out that just as we were preparing to "rise in office and strike rich," Pangzi was startled by the sudden thunder from the sky, instinctively stepped back a step, didn't expect to miss his footing and fall down, and this sound was drowned out by the thunder at the time, so for a while we didn't notice it.

I looked at Pangzi, then at the jade coffin—if it wasn't Pangzi knocking inside the coffin to make that sound, who could it be? Could it really be that there are zombies in this world that can move even in broad daylight?

Seeing Pangzi climb back up, Shirley Yang asked him what was in the tree hollow. Pangzi said it was pitch black in there, like there were lots of bones and vines, though he didn't dare look closely; besides, the tree hollow smelled terrible, stinging his forehead.

Shirley Yang said to me and Pangzi: "You two come over here and look at this—this matter far exceeds our expectations. The crew of the C-type transport plane did not all bail out by parachute; at least one person died here, his remains lie beneath this jade coffin, and the space under the coffin might connect to the tree hollow Pangzi fell into."

Hearing her words, which seemed suspicious, I stepped onto the coffin lid and went to the other end, just as Shirley Yang said—indeed, a human hand was pressed under the front corner of the coffin's burial bed, palm down, not rotted into white bone but completely desiccated, dark brown dry skin wrapped around the bone, muscles and moisture gone, four fingers tightly inserted into the tree trunk beneath the coffin, as if, before death, he had undergone a long and painful struggle; the thumb of the hand bone pressed against a small double-headed clip.

I was completely bewildered, utterly confused—this is only a dead person's hand; judging by this, there must be a corpse pressed under the coffin—who is he? And how did he get pressed underneath? And what was that knocking sound just now inside the coffin?

Shirley Yang said this double-headed clip, during the Allied counteroffensive in Normandy, began to be used as a simple device for mutual communication, capable of producing light and heavy sounds, earliest used in the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions; indeed, it can send Morse code signals.

After hearing this, I and Pangzi somewhat grasped a clue—could it be that a soul of someone who died beneath the coffin wants to contact us?

Only then did Shirley Yang say to us: "On this arm, a sleeve badge is exposed—it's the uniform of the US Air Force during World War II, and this double-headed clip doesn't exist in China. I infer that the jade coffin contains something harmful, and the space under the coffin is a tree hollow that connects internally, swallowing life that passes nearby. Last night, the vengeful spirit of a pilot killed by the jade coffin sent us a warning signal, not wanting us to repeat his fate."

I said to Shirley Yang: "Last night everything was chaotic porridge—I don't even know what warning it was giving us. Could it be saying there's a ghost in the coffin that wants to harm us three? Then why didn't we notice anything at all?"

As soon as I finished speaking, I suddenly thought: probably we were all wearing genuine "grave-robbing talismans," and Lao Hu had even brought the Guanyin pendant from Da Jin Ya—these are all obscure ancient objects, but do they really work that well? I have no confidence in my heart. There must be ghosts in these two old trees; those hidden holes inside the trunks—who knows what evil demons and heretical things are inside.

To get to the bottom of this, we then all acted together, pulling the jade coffin's lid out. The coffin was full to the brim, entirely of a dark purple-red liquid with a hint of black, besides the smell, it was no different from blood plasma.

We didn't know if that liquid was poisonous; although we wore gloves, we still dared not touch it directly with our hands. Pangzi used the yin-probing claw, I used the climbing pickaxe, and we reached into the coffin and scooped twice; in the blood-like solution, the climbing pickaxe snagged the corpse of a fat old man. His body had only a very thin layer of bone wax, as thin as a cicada's wing—"bone wax" is extremely precious; legend says when Han Gaozu passed away, in his jade burial suit, they wrapped this layer of bone wax, functioning much like modern plastic wrap, but back then, there were no chemical additives.

Pangzi used the paratrooper knife to cut through that layer of bone wax, letting the corpse inside be fully exposed—only to see that the old man's body inside was remarkably well-preserved; his face was longer than an average person's, and according to physiognomy, this means he had a horse face. His beard and eyebrows were all white, he wore a hairpin on his head, and from head to toe he was completely naked, as if soaked too long in that blood-like liquid, his body slightly reddish.

Pangzi cursed: "This dead old man's layers of fat—who knows how many damn..." 【text garbled】... saying that, he used the yin-probing claw to poke the corpse's face twice—this corpse still had considerable elasticity, not stiff at all, not even like a dead person, but rather like it was in deep sleep? BR>

Shirley Yang said to me: "There seem to be quite a few things in the solution inside the jade coffin—you first scoop them out and have a look, then we'll discuss."

I felt this man, dead for over two thousand years, was still preserved so lifelike, even describable as "fresh and alive"—truly astonishing; this matter shouldn't be dwelled on, the more I ponder it, the creepier it feels. So, following Shirley Yang's suggestion, I prepared to use the climbing pickaxe to pull out the corpse of this white-bearded old man, to make space and see what else lay beneath his body.

Unexpectedly, as soon as I began pulling, it felt heavy as if bearing a weight of two—using my hands with the climbing pickaxe, I could easily move over a hundred jin, yet the weight of this white-bearded old man's corpse far exceeded my expectation; one tug and it didn't budge at all—afraid it weighed no less than several hundred jin.

I couldn't help but wonder in my heart: could it be that this naked corpse still has other heavy objects attached below?

I pulled the climbing pickaxe from under the corpse's armpit, hooked it in the middle section of the coffin, and actually drew out from the red-black fluid a large, skinless python covered in blood; the three of us were startled—turns out the old man's corpse below the shoulders was wrapped with a giant python that had been skinned; the junction where the python corpse met the human corpse, due to the long time, had already fused together, making separation impossible—no wonder when I tugged earlier it felt so heavy, and moreover, the skinless python corpse was covered with countless red muscle threads; the python meat twitched every now and then, as if the snake had just been skinned and wasn't dead yet; we heard the knocking sound inside the jade coffin—it very likely came from it.

The python's muscles and tendons were clearly visible; I don't know by what means its skin was removed, but looking at its thickness and size, although it's somewhat smaller than the one we saw in the "Zhelong Mountain" cave, it's still much larger than an ordinary python; thinking of that green-scaled monster python, I immediately thought of the "Gu Du" witchcraft of the Evil King's malevolent sorcery.

Pangzi pointed at this skinless giant python and said to us: "Look at the many red muscle threads growing on the python's corpse—he said: 'There's still something growing on this snake meat, like fish or insect larvae, and it seems connected to the bottom of the coffin—Lao Hu, you hold on, I'll scoop down below to see what's there.' Saying that, he rolled up his sleeves and prepared to go downhand to fish for the moon from the bottom of the sea."

Seeing this, Shirley Yang hurriedly stopped Pangzi—after all, we don't know the details of this dark red fluid, so we shouldn't touch it recklessly; better to use the climbing pickaxe or yin-probing claw to scoop bit by bit, which is safer.

I exerted force to lift the fat old man's corpse in one piece; Shirley Yang used the climbing pickaxe, Pangzi took the entrenching shovel, and we conducted a pile-driving-style search in the coffin's liquid, continually hooking out several items from inside. First discovered was a golden mask—this mask might have been worn by a wizard or priest in rituals; its shape is extraordinarily strange, entirely cast of pure gold; the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth are inlaid with pure white jade; the jade ornaments are movable—when worn, the wearer can take these white jade pieces off the golden mask. The mask has dragon horns on top, the mouth shaped like a tiger's mouth, the two ears like fish tails, making it look extremely ugly and ferocious—but what shocked us most was the pattern on the golden mask: layer upon layer of vortex shapes; these vortex patterns are simple in composition, yet look somewhat like eyeballs—a circle with two or three smaller circles nested inside, the outermost layer seemingly representing the eyeball, the inner layers representing the pupil.

Seeing these familiar carvings, I, Shirley Yang, and Pangzi all couldn't help feeling a little excited—it seems the legend of the King Xian's "Chen Dust Pearl" is not baseless; this time we have made real contact, and in my heart I have a bit of confidence. Even if it's nine deaths to one life, this trip to Yunnan hasn't been in vain—I haven't suffered all that wind-drinking and dew-ing for nothing.

Next was a dragon-tiger short staff, made of green soapstone ground into shape, similar in length to the ordinary rolling pin used in households; the green soapstone short staff slightly curves, one end is a dragon head, the other a tiger head, and where the two animals' bodies meet is the middle grip. The dragon-tiger form is ancient and simple, lacking the liveliness of Han dynasty art, nor does it possess realism or vitality, yet it exudes a mighty, heavy aura; judging by appearance, it is at least a pre-Qin artifact.

Pangzi looked at these artifacts, wiped the saliva from the corner of his mouth, cleaned the several funerary objects we had scooped from the jade coffin, and put them into a moisture- and air-resistant deer-skin bag, preparing to take them back as war trophies.

Shirley Yang saw this and became anxious—brazenly looting in broad daylight, this is no different from tomb robbery, isn't it? After taking photos and looking at them, we should hurry and put them back.

Pangzi, upon hearing this, also refused: "We came all the way from Beijing to Yunnan—what did we come for? Not just to steal funerary objects, right? Hardly had we opened the fast, wanting to put them back—no way."

I also advised Shirley Yang: "What's tomb robbery or not—such harsh words. As the saying goes, 'He who steals a state becomes a marquis; he who steals a hook is executed.' At least grave-robbing officers still have the rule of 'three no-digs for the poor, three no-openings for the rich'—isn't that far better than those state thieves and people's thieves? Since ancient times, those with ambition act on Heaven's behalf to eliminate injustice; leaving these things in deep mountains and old forests to rot with the years is the greatest irresponsibility toward the people. However, I see that the rule says you can only take one funerary object, and there's still that old-fashioned rule forbidding grave-robbing in daylight—these should change with the further deepening of reform and opening-up."

While Pangzi was busy packing the funerary objects, I leaned close to Shirley Yang's ear and whispered: "Even if we return this stuff, we dare not touch it—let Xiao Pang take it back to play with for a few days; when he's had enough, I'll take it back and give it to you—you can donate it to whatever museum you like; this is 'quenching thirst by looking at plums.' If we don't let Pangzi see some sweetness, it'll easily affect morale, and besides, the heaviest equipment still needs him to carry it!"

Shirley Yang shook her head with a wry smile: "Really can't do anything with you—we had an agreement beforehand: except for using the Chen Dust Pearl to save lives, we must absolutely not do any more grave-robbing business; you should know, I'm doing this for your own good."

I hurriedly pretended to be moved, sincerely expressing that I would certainly not disappoint her earnest expectations and sincere teachings, while in my heart I thought: "After we go back, I'll talk about it then—I dare not touch bronze ware, but as for these jade and gold funerary objects, I never promised Chairman Mao I wouldn't; whatever I tell others, I'll forget after a nap—even if we retreat ten thousand steps and say these things are obviously sacrificial vessels, highly likely directly connected to the Chen Dust Pearl—no matter what, we can't put them back now; this time we can't bother with rules, lest we regret using them later."

I was happily calculating my gains when I saw Shirley Yang discover something else in the coffin—the countless red muscle threads growing on the python's corpse, which seemed alive, twitching faintly from time to time; these muscle threads all connected to the bottom of the coffin.

Unexpectedly, this exquisitely beautiful jade coffin has its four walls and lid made of Tibetan heavenly jade, while the bottom is actually a piece of "langmu wood"; the red muscle threads in the coffin pass through the "langmu wood" coffin bottom and connect to the interior of the old tree—the human corpse, the witchcraft python, and the jade coffin have already become completely interconnected, inseparable.

Following downward, one sees that the trees under the coffin's base have completely rotted due to lack of nutrients, merely covered by parasitic plants, barely supporting the coffin above; below is a bottomless tree hollow, which should connect to the hollow Pangzi fell into. These tree hollows are cleverly disguised by parasitic plant vines; once these natural disguises are broken, within three days they will rapidly regrow, covering the traces of the hollow; if you shine a "wolf-eye" flashlight inside, you see all kinds of animal dry corpses wrapped in tree vines, among which are also several human corpses.

Shirley Yang seemed to suddenly realize: "Oh no—the skinned python corpse in the jade coffin might be a witchcraft python fed on human pupae, and these two old husband-and-wife banyan trees have already been parasitized by the vengeful spirits of the human pupae inside the python corpse—this tree is essentially a giant python."