Chapter 131

I quickly waved at Shirley Yang, gesturing for her to stop talking—otherwise I'd have vomited, since I hadn't eaten anything substantial today.

Pangzi, however, dismissed the matter: "Women don't give birth, so how did they end up producing worms? That's quite improper."

Shirley Yang ignored Pangzi, gazing at the mountain-like pile of corpses, and softly sighed: "Truly horrific." After a moment's reflection, she still decided to continue investigating the truth, took out a rope, tied a live noose, aimed at a "corpse floater" drifting on the water, threw it over, and it landed perfectly, snagging the corpse floater's head.

Seeing Shirley Yang act, Pangzi and I stepped in to help, standing by the water's edge using a "mountaineering pick" to hook and pull the female corpse Shirley Yang had snared. The three of us heaved and hauled, truly exerting ourselves, before we managed to drag the struggling "corpse floater" ashore.

The "corpse floater" in the water possessed tremendous strength—comparable to large river fish, not yielding in the least. Ordinarily it looked no different from a floating corpse, but when touched by external force, its leaps and jerks exerted dozens of jin of force. Naturally, this was due to the female corpse's severed limbs clutching a cocoon-like object on its back—that is, the giant fetal-shaped worm pupa inside, now moving.

Pangzi and I used our feet to pin down the hauled-up "corpse floater" to prevent it from thrashing on the ground. The three of us gathered around to observe closely, and discovered this corpse was indeed different from the black female corpses vomited up after being eaten by giant worms.

The freshly hauled "corpse floater" was densely covered head to toe with a thick layer of meat maggots. Though these creatures resembled maggots in appearance, we couldn't conclude they were such, for first, these "maggots" were far too large—each individual thicker than two rings around a normal person's thumb. If their bodies were semi-transparent, that wouldn't be accurate enough; their transparency approached seventy percent, and they bore no resemblance to the "water zhufeng" we'd seen earlier in animated corpses. In fact, they were utterly lifeless things.

They looked speckled white and white, making one's scalp tingle at the mere thought of looking closely, differing from how they appeared when we viewed them in the water. When corpses soak underwater, they emit a gloomy, chilly, eerie faint glow. A single "corpse floater" has limited luminescence, but when many female corpses gather, that chilly green light seems to double in intensity, casting the ruby-red rock walls of the "Gourd Cave" as if shrouded in a layer of dark, demonic aura. This eerie, terrifying atmosphere—if one hasn't been present in person, endured the cave's myriad hair-raising events—would be impossible to imagine.

Shirley Yang had me help drag one black and one white female corpse together, lining them up head to toe, then repeatedly compared them. The blackened female corpse's "fat maggots" on its body had apparently been completely consumed by the "Hu's Immortal Worm."

I used a paratrooper's knife to scrape off the large maggots clinging to the female corpse's surface, revealing beneath a layer of black, transparent hard membrane—identical to the corpses vomited up by the "Hu's Immortal Worm."

Shirley Yang, Pangzi, and I stood in silent contemplation, connecting these clues one by one. Though we dared not declare it certain, even the dullest person could now estimate it at eighty or ninety percent: this was indeed the evil "Gu poison production assembly line."

This is a massive, hidden sacrifice buried in history's shadows. These women's identities are unknown to us. They may have been slaves, captives, or local barbarians suppressed by authorities, or perhaps the families of artisans made into "human figurines." But they were surely all sacrificed for one purpose: to provide endless energy to the "poison mist" installed around the king's outer tomb, dying in some "Gu technique ritual" of the "Xian King" for that very reason.

Shirley Yang recently studied materials on the "Ancient Dian Kingdom." In various historical records, references to the mysterious and ancient "Gu technique" are merely brushed over, lacking detailed description—even when present, they're only fragmentary. Yet wild histories mention using "Gu lures" to make women pregnant and produce worm eggs, requiring them to carry to term for ten months, then tormented to death at childbirth, so their dying fear and hatred would pass through their bodies into the worm eggs they produced, thereby gaining toxicity—a particularly potent form of "Gu poison."

Shirley Yang had previously seen these records, thinking they were likely fabricated wild rumors, not to be believed. But now, on-site, confronting the brutal physical evidence before her eyes, she finally knew such atrocities truly existed in this world.

Likely, the Xian King seized this "Worm Valley" vicinity, deeming it a feng shui paradise, unparalleled under heaven—a divine, marvelous, spiritually enlightened land. Then, in the "Gourd Cave," he discovered the "Mountain God" offered by local barbarians—that is, this semi-petrified giant worm.

Most importantly, the Xian King knew this worm was vastly larger than human imagination, with part of its body exposed in the valley. Thus he incorporated the "Gourd Cave" into his mausoleum grounds, forbidding locals from offering giant toads to the Mountain God. Once the worm had exhausted its poison gas and could no longer resist, he encased it in a heavy set of "dragon-scale bronze armor," then placed upon it a "Golden Six-Beast Mask" with certain religious significance—perhaps also employing unknown mystical means—tormenting this sole surviving worm on earth to the brink of death. The "bronze heavy armor" and "golden mask" are both densely inscribed with Gu technique incantations. In truth, Gu talismans aren't particularly rare; Daoist exorcists and soul-pacifiers also use similar items.

He then had these barbarian women or slaves implanted with "Gu seeds" in their uteri, awaiting their worm egg production. When the time came, the female slaves would first have their limbs broken, then be made to embrace the freshly laid "Gu eggs" still attached to their bodies. Immediately, a substance resembling melted hot pine resin or boiling tree sap would be poured alive over the slave, along with the "Gu egg" behind her, forming a transparent "human amber." After cooling, the coffin lid would be engraved with "Soul-Summoning Talismans," thereby sealing the slave's dying fear, sorrow, hatred, and curses within the "amber." As for why this strange posture was required—forcibly breaking the slaves' limbs—our limited knowledge of Gu technique prevents us from speculating; perhaps it was to increase the victim's suffering, or based on religious belief.

Yet the "Gu eggs" just produced by the slave women possess strong vitality and won't easily die from boiling tree sap. The cocoon-like objects, once punctured with fine holes, are all sunk into this cave's deep pool. The "Gu eggs," through these honeycomb-like spaces, attract mayflies in the water to feed on, surviving in that endless resentment. Rather than calling it a worm, perhaps describing it as a plant with neural reflexes would be more fitting—it has absolutely no consciousness; these large meat pupae move solely by neural reflex. All feeding, reproduction, etc., occur within the cocoon eggs, to preserve the dead's resentment from fading. They never break out of the cocoon; instead, they excrete internal waste—a special substance resembling fish eggs or fungal plant matter—from the honeycomb sites, which then adheres to the "corpse floater's" outer shell, gradually growing into something resembling transparent maggots. Meanwhile, the slave's internal "Gu poison" is entirely preserved within these maggot-shaped substances.

These "fungus" themselves possess a kind of "ghost fire"-like bioelectricity, capable of emitting green light in water, making the female corpses appear wrapped in a halo. When we were in the water, seeing those "corpse floaters" would inexplicably evoke a sense of sorrow—possibly due to bioelectric effects, not the "fungus" rupturing and leaking toxins, which would have poisoned us long ago. Now, recalling it, we feel a few drops of luck: so many "fungus," and we weren't poisoned—truly thanks to our ancestral grandfather's blessing. It seems the "Xian King's Tomb" was destined to be breached.

That ancient worm, nearly as old as the "Gourd Cave," emits a scarlet mist from its body, attracting these fungus to draw near, then consumes the female corpses. After digestion, the fungus are broken down by the old worm, and the "Gu poison" formed from resentment is transformed via its body into the perennial white "mountain miasma" in the valley—those who approach too closely die instantly.

Meanwhile, the female corpse wrapped in a hard membrane cannot be digested nor excreted, so it simply vomits back into the water pool. The "Gu eggs" within the slave corpses then continue as before—intermittently feeding on mayfly biomass, excreting fungus, surfacing, being eaten and vomited by the old worm, endlessly cycling.

Our understanding of "Gu technique" remains at the level of speculation, lacking deeper insight. Since entering "Shield Dragon Mountain," all the way to this "Gourd Cave," I've continually seen Gu-related things—mass after mass of corpses—instilling a deep dread toward the nearby king's tomb. My initial vigor has diminished by seven-tenths by now.

In grave robbing, courage comes first. If one feels apprehensive even before entering an ancient tomb, this expedition will surely go poorly. I worry Pangzi and Shirley Yang lack confidence, so I cheer them: "That Xian King slaughtered people till rivers ran full, tenfold unforgivable, and in life he excelled at strange arts—his heretical paths are beyond ordinary imagination, truly hard to deal with. But comrades, we're best at fighting unprepared battles like this. If not, how could we display the prowess of our Sichuan Gold-Seeking Captains? I see the Xian King's tricks are nothing more than that—just paper tigers, like the demon queen of the Jingjue Kingdom. No matter how fierce she was alive, dead she's still at our mercy."

Pangzi curled his lip, face grave and solemn: "Enough talk—comrades bear heavy responsibility, women's grudges run deep. Though anciently Hua Mulan took her father's place in the army, and now daughter-soldiers take up arms for the people, as a man, the hatred in my chest also burns. Thunder and lightning ring in my ears—I've made up my mind. When the red signal flare rises, we'll seize the final high point, pack up the Xian King's burial goods, big or small, and head back to Beijing to sell what should be sold, smash what should be smashed. If we don't do this, we fail those countless women who died resentful."

Shirley Yang interrupted Pangzi's endless rambling: "The hard membrane on the female corpse's exterior resembles amber—normally resistant to gastric corrosion, so indigestion is expected. But judging by the Hu's Immortal Worm's body shape, expelling such a large object via the intestinal tract isn't difficult. Yet why does it vomit it back out after eating?"

Aside from this, we've already guessed eighty or ninety percent, but this question still poses difficulty. Could it be that this giant worm is simply too old, its digestion poor? Or perhaps it usually doesn't vomit, but today, after being beaten badly by us, it does so…?

As we spoke, the three of us nearly simultaneously had the same thought, turned our gaze, and all looked toward the last thing vomited from the giant worm's mouth. Could it be because its belly holds a square, four-by-four large copper box, so anything slightly larger can't be swallowed, only able to expel the corpse shell after digesting the surface "fungus," then vomit the shell back out?

I beckoned to Pangzi and Shirley Yang: "All matters here, big and small, have been investigated. Now it's time to see what secrets this box holds—take what's useful, destroy what's not."

Pangzi instantly perked up: "Lao Hu, I just saw—this box is made entirely of thick copper plates, its sturdiness needs no mention. I alone couldn't open it, but the three of us together can try. If that fails, we'll use explosives."

On the square copper box, there's still thick "Hu's Immortal Worm" gastric fluid. We had no choice but to rinse it with groundwater, washing it clean to reveal its original appearance.

After removing all grime from the copper box, we discovered it couldn't be identified as a box at all—it's a large copper lump, a copper sarcophagus or coffin, or perhaps something else entirely, seemingly an object never seen before.

This four-sided object has all faces identical—no way to tell top from bottom, front from back. Each side bears forty-eight large nail heads, but all six sides are seamless, not resembling something that can be opened.

I wondered inwardly: "Damn, couldn't it just be a solid copper lump?" I took out a small geological hammer and tapped lightly a few times above, but the sound was dull, not crisp at all—not like copper, nor could I tell if it was hollow or solid.

The three of us pushed this square copper lump to see its underside. It wasn't as heavy as we imagined, so we knew the inside must be hollow—but how to open it? Even explosives might not work.

I held my breath and examined closely. On the lowest side, there were two small holes, blocked by the giant worm's yellow gastric fluid, so not easy to notice. Pangzi spotted them and hurriedly asked: "Are these keyholes?"

I shook my head: "These holes are oddly shaped, with no discernible pattern—how could they be keyholes? And even if they were, where's the key? Would we still have to dig through the worm's belly to find it?"

Shirley Yang gestured at the holes on the copper lump, then suddenly brightened: "Try using the dragon-head tiger-head short staff found in the jade coffin of the great sacrifice—it looks like the size and shape might match closely.

Upon her suggestion, I immediately realized: the openings of these two holes are exactly a dragon head and a tiger head. I don't know why, but I suddenly felt a surge of excitement I couldn't suppress. I loudly told Pangzi: "Excellent! My beloved comrade Konstantin Petrovich Fallovich, today is the Bolsheviks' holiday—hurry and fetch the party representative! Once he arrives, Nicholas's great gate will open for us proletarians!"