Chapter 115

The old banyan trees, tangled together, were full of holes inside, and normally relied on the red flesh threads growing from the jade coffin for support; now, having lost that support, and with the crown smashed by a C-type transport plane, they became top-heavy, and when the subterranean behemoth shoved them, they collapsed sideways with a roar.

The jade coffin I had smashed with my Thompson submachine gun also fell to the ground with the trees; the blood inside had drained completely, leaving only the naked corpse of the white-bearded old man inside, plus the skinless parasitic gu-snake clinging to the coffin's occupant; these two corpses were completely entwined, rolled out of the shattered coffin, and instantly began to change, becoming a pile of scorched, dry wood charcoal in less than three seconds.

There was not a breath of wind in the jungle; otherwise, even a light breeze might have blown this severely oxidized human and snake corpse into black powder.

We did not know what would emerge from the west, so we stepped back a few paces; I opened the bolt and aimed the muzzle at the tree roots, ready to fire a burst at whatever it was first; Pangzi had already taken out his butane torch from his backpack, wanting to stage a fire attack.

Shirley Yang beside me pressed her hand on my gun barrel: "Don't rush to shoot…… it looks like a stone statue; let's see clearly first."

Only then did we see the roots of the old banyan slowly detach from the soil; the crowns of these two ancient trees were already extremely rare in this forest, and the underground roots extended more than three times the width of the crown; all these roots and trunks pulled free from the earth—what a commotion—the jungle floor seemed to split open like a black hole's maw, and suddenly heaven and earth trembled, the overcast clouds grew thicker and lower, black clouds rolled directly over the jungle, and the thunderous rumbling had no bounds, merging into a continuous roar.

As the old trees collapsed, a huge stone XX (two characters I did not recognize, one being three shell characters stacked, the other a corpse character above three shell characters stacked) rose from the soil, bearing a short stele on its back; this XX was unlike anything we three had ever seen in our lives; roughly estimated, it weighed no less than several thousand catties; the roots of the old banyan were wrapped around the XX, suggesting it had been artificially placed beneath the tree.

This XX raised its head proudly, its turtle tail flexing, its four feet planted on the ground in a crawling posture; its raised turtle shell was a cloud pedestal, with the short stele standing upon it; a black vapor rose from beneath the XX, shooting straight into the heavens, only dispersing after half a day, whereupon the clouds above also scattered; at this moment, the surrounding air was filled with the ozone smell after a thunderstorm.

We watched from afar until the ground had completely calmed and we confirmed no further danger, then approached to inspect; Pangzi wondered: "Lao Hu, such a huge XX—when we once toured the Dai Temple in Tai'an, we had never seen one this large; this artifact from several thousand years ago, though hauling it back would be troublesome, would also count as a treasure."

I laughed: "Little Pang, I've noticed your aesthetic leans toward Nazi Germany—if it's big, you think it's all good; even if you hauled this thing back, no one would want to buy it—who has space for something this large?"

Pangzi replied dismissively: "You really don't understand the current economic situation—shame on you for claiming your ancestors were wealthy landowners; I see your grandfather's generation as nothing but a clueless landlord; nowadays, although two-thirds of the working masses haven't risen to liberation, one-third are wealthy, and their estates are vast—hundreds of mu of good farmland is nothing, and they surely have space for an XX like this; don't believe me? Ask that American girl—her ranch in California is huge; you'd be shocked; all the housing for our nation's senior military officers combined doesn't match her backyard."

I gasped, hurriedly asking Shirley Yang: "Really? I find that hard to believe—if what Pangzi says is true, your backyard could host two world wars……"

Pangzi, not waiting for Shirley Yang to answer, interjected: "How could it be false? Her ancestors have been collecting burial goods for generations—how many large measures they've overturned, casually picking up a few items, enough to sustain a third-world nation's people for half a year; Lao Hu—that's you, the country bumpkin—Da Jin Ya's grandson said this XX is specifically collected by someone; isn't there an old saying? Rub the XX's head, pick up gold; rub the XX's tail, live to eighty-nine—it's the most auspicious thing; place one in your home, and it's truly—damn, mom riding a motorcycle—no brakes."

I couldn't help but laugh: "You're listening to Da Jin Ya's nonsense—those lines are the ones I helped him copy last year; whether rubbing XX or chicken feathers, it's the same two lines; it's just a trick to swindle foreigners; if you don't believe me, go rub this XX's head—after that, you won't need to follow me into mountain ravines for tomb-raiding; you'll just stroll around town, twist your waist, bend over, and pick up a nugget of dog-head gold."

Pangzi stared at me for a moment, then cursed: "I said those old sayings were so rustic they flaked off—damn it, you made them up after all that fuss?"

Shirley Yang ignored our bickering and carefully examined the giant stone XX, wanting to see how it emerged from beneath the tree; after looking repeatedly, she told me and Pangzi: "You two stop arguing—this is fundamentally not an XX…… but a Baitu Baxi that resembles an XX."

Pangzi, confused, asked: "I only know pepper-salt chicken chunks—what is this Baitu thing? Which restaurant is it from?"

I, however, knew something about Baitu, but isn't this the stele-bearing XX? So I said to Shirley Yang: "I have a habit—when facing ignorant people like Pangzi, I can't humble myself; I'm too familiar with these things; as I know, the dragon begot nine sons, each different; XX and Baitu are each one of them; Baitu is used to guard doorways; I think this stone beast should be an XX that looks like an old turtle."

Shirley Yang nodded: "Exactly—the shape of this stone beast indeed resembles the auspicious beast XX that bears a stele, but you see it is entirely made by round-carving technique; the turtle shell patterns are clear, but uniquely, its four claws are sharp, like weapons, and its mouth full of sharp teeth—these match Baitu's features; only, perhaps due to regional cultural differences of the ancient Dian Kingdom, this Baitu differs greatly from those in the Central Plains."

Shirley Yang finished, then took out Professor Sun's photo for us to see; the photo showed the six beasts used in the Xian King's heaven-earth sacrifice ritual; one of them closely resembled this stone Baitu; I compared carefully, and indeed this Baitu also has a round sphere on its head, though previously hidden by fallen tree roots, so we hadn't noticed.

Shirley Yang continued: "Ancient texts record that Baitu likes to close up, meaning it wards off evil and protects the home; my reason for identifying it as Baitu mainly lies in the stele on its back—this is no ordinary stone tablet; it might be the Tomb-Suppressing Register of the Xian King's Tomb; the Baitu's main function is to suppress evil qi near the royal tomb; after the tomb's completion, it is buried in the outer area, like a modern foundation-laying ceremony."

All three of us climbed onto the turtle back of the stone beast, using paratrooper knives to gently scrape off the dirt from the register; the carved text and patterns gradually emerged; sure enough, not as Shirley Yang had predicted, and I and Pangzi had to admit defeat today—we'll just have to find another chance to regain face.

Shirley Yang used her camera to photograph every character on the stone tablet's register, and also made rubbings; the information on the register was truly immense, exceeding expectations, detailing in depth the construction of the Xian King's Tomb, even including the burial accompaniments; however, the language was archaic, some characters I knew, some she did, so we had to rely on Shirley Yang to explain, and we three went through it line by line.

The register first states that the ancient Dian Kingdom was one of the three commanderies established by Qin Shi Huang; at the end of the Qin, Chu and Han rose together, the world in turmoil, the leaders of these three commanderies adopted a closed-door policy, severed ties with the north, and declared independence; later, when Han unified the realm, but after the Han state was founded, it constantly faced threats from the northern Xiongnu, unable to attend to Dian, and never had the leisure to concern itself with it.

In the final years of the ancient Dian Kingdom, pressure from the northern Han Empire grew ever greater, state affairs deteriorated, the Mandate of Heaven had withdrawn; Emperor Wu of Han demanded the ancient divine object "Chen Dust Pearl" from the Dian King; domestically, this caused fierce division; the Xian King took the true "Chen Dust Pearl" and departed from Dian, fleeing deep into the mountains of western Dian; the remaining Dian King could only offer a "Shadow Pearl" as tribute to Emperor Wu of Han.

Seeing this, Shirley Yang could barely contain her excitement: "The problem I worried about most has finally been clarified—because in history, the tomb of Emperor Wu of Han at Maoling was dug up bottom-up by rebel peasants, and the 'Chen Dust Pearl' buried with him was thus scattered among mankind; this history cannot be matched with the timeline of the Xian King's Tomb; it turns out Maoling contained only a counterfeit Shadow Pearl."

The register continues: "The Chen Dust Pearl is the phoenix transformed from the Earth Mother; since the Shang and Zhou dynasties, it has been believed that one can cultivate immortality through this divine artifact, with the effect of shedding the womb and exchanging bones; however, it only works in special locations; King Wen of Zhou once recorded these details in detail in the Heavenly Book."

But these secrets remained firmly in the hands of the ruling class; nearly every monarch dreamed of cultivating immortality, attaining the Dao, living forever, and preserving their realm for ten thousand years, so they exhausted all efforts to decipher the secret of the Chen Dust Pearl; by the end of the Qin, this divine object had fallen into southern Dian, and the Xian King left the state precisely because he could not bear to part with this "Chen Dust Pearl," preparing to find a place in the mountains to cultivate immortality; thus, the site of the Xian King's Tomb was chosen as a celestial grotto in the eyes of feng shui masters.

The construction of the Xian King's Tomb spanned twenty-seven years before and after, with the labor force consistently maintained at around one hundred thousand—almost the entire nation's strength; besides slaves, many local Yi people……

Seeing this, we all gasped—turns out the Xian King spent his entire life on nothing else but building his tomb, pouring all his energy into it, hoping to achieve corpse-liberation immortality in the water dragon halo after death; this seems hard to believe, and though we have grasped much of the legend of the Chen Dust Pearl, we still lack definite content; as for whether the Xian King attained immortality after death, the register contains no record; this matter will likely remain unknown until we enter the Xian King's Tomb and solve the mystery.

Then the register only records the construction process of the Xian King's Tomb; as for the underground palace of the ancient tomb, and the scale and layout of the royal tomb, the tomb entrance, etc., not a single character is mentioned.

Next, it records the burial accompaniments: aside from the sacrificial pits and burial pits and other outer facilities, the true burial accompaniment consisted of only one chief priest; after the Xian King was placed in the coffin, two old banyan trees capable of altering feng shui were fetched from a deep valley; first, the Tomb-Suppressing Register was buried underground, the trees planted upon it; then, a giant python fed on human figurines was captured; this python, described in the register as a Qinglong, extremely fierce and violent, a beast unique to the E Long Mountain region; after the python had eaten its fill of human figurines, it would fall into a stupor; at this point, the skin would be peeled off while alive, and together with the chief priest, placed alive into the coffin; the python flesh, human body, with the mulberry wood coffin base, and this old tree, would gradually grow into one entity, thus maintaining the corpse's incorruptibility and integrity for a long time.

Having mentioned that the jade coffin was damaged, here the altered feng shui layout was broken, releasing the subterranean qi that had been suppressed for thousands of years underground; the black clouds and thunderstorm were produced by changes in the earth's veins; this is what pushed up the Tomb-Suppressing Register buried beneath the tree.

Finally, the register also contains some eulogies of vast virtue, which are of little use; Pangzi saw no record of what rare burial goods were in the Xian King's Tomb, and felt a little disappointed; in my view, this information is already enough for us to smoothly reach our goal; since we know the feng shui layout here, we only need to use a compass to locate it—even if we can't find the Snake River, we can still locate the target for tomb-raiding.

Seeing nothing more worth looking at, I packed up, having gone a full day and night without sleep, exhausted man and horse; today I strive to find the valley entrance as early as possible, then rest properly.

Shirley Yang saw me and Pangzi preparing to pack up and depart, and said: "Don't rush—there's still some content on the back of the Tomb-Suppressing Register; let's check if we missed anything first."

I had no choice but to turn to the other side to see what else was on the back of the register; Shirley Yang had already scraped the dirt clean; we gathered around and looked—we were speechless; it turned out the back of the register was a full-surface relief, a magnificent palace solemn as all under heaven, suspended above the neon clouds in the sky—could it be that the Xian King's Tomb was actually built in the heavens?