Chapter 157: Main Text Chapter 159: Soul Seizing

Main Text Chapter 159: Soul Seizing

I was stripping the white silk wrapping the corpse while briefly telling Shirley Yang about something that had happened not long ago: the soul-seizing witchcraft punishment had disappeared since the Warring States period; once, at the Panjiayuan antique market, several items suddenly appeared— they were from an old farmer in Henan Anyang, who brought over a hundred oddly shaped bone implements looking for a buyer; those things resembled bone needles but were thicker and longer, hollow inside, all stored in an ancient pottery jar covered in ancient characters.

The old farmer said he dug them out of the ground; since there were oracle bone inscriptions on top, of course he didn't recognize them, but his local area had unearthed many valuable relics, and he merely thought these "bone needles" could be sold in Beijing for a lot of money; at the time many of us saw them, but there were too many fakes, nobody could be sure, after all the items were extremely ancient, nobody had ever seen them, and we weren't even sure what they were.

As it happened, two Japanese took a liking to them and wanted to buy the lot, but then Lei Zi showed up and seized both the person and the goods; it turned out the farmer's hometown had someone who saw him digging up antiquities, felt jealous, and blew the whistle, pursuing him all the way to Beijing; later we heard that the jar of "bone needles" he dug up were the implements used in the Shang dynasty to carry out the soul-seizing witchcraft punishment, and now these items are in the local museum of Henan.

Pangzi added on the side: "I even made special inquiries—this set of soul-seizing needles, nowadays a single one could be traded for an imported car; back then our judgment wasn't good enough, otherwise… otherwise the ones now squatting in the earth kiln would be our gang."

Shirley Yang said: "So, soul-seizing is a torture that drains all human blood?"

I had already stripped the white silk wrapped around the corpse's bones in the coffin; a pair of legs were suddenly revealed, the withered skin purplish-brown, covered with speckled round black marks; this multitude of black spots should be where the soul-seizing needles were driven into the blood vessels; I told Shirley Yang and Pangzi: "Draining the blood isn't enough; it's said that the condemned must also be forced to drink large amounts of cattle, sheep, pig blood mixed together, and this blood has been mixed with things like sparrow essence and corpse rats that have long disappeared—in short, turning a living person into a zombie; after we finish a thorough investigation, to prevent corpse transformation, it's best to burn these two desiccated legs together with the coffin wood from the bronze outer coffin."

"Corpse transformation" can be divided into several kinds: some are corpse rising, where a person who has just died suddenly gets up and chases people, clutching yang energy; some are corpses that have not decayed although dead for a long time, yet hair and nails keep growing slowly; some corpses, due to bad feng shui buried in a stagnant vein, grow fine hair and turn ferocious inside the tomb; another kind, after being buried underground, becomes possessed by fox spirits that have cultivated to essence, yellow weasels, or plague gods, drought demons, evil fiends, and can wreak havoc over a wide area. The danger is extremely great.

The corpse in this king's tomb bronze outer coffin already shows all the signs of corpse transformation; I think that since we've encountered this situation, if conditions allow, we should try every way to destroy corpses bearing such signs—this benefits both others and ourselves. It's a way to make up for lost yin virtue; of course, if we encounter the "fierce" among zombies, it's best to slip away early.

The three sections of corpse have been examined; there is nothing extra inside the coffin; as long as we burn the corpse in the bronze outer coffin and confirm that only the upper half remains inside, we can fully confirm our hypothesis, and the two remaining coffins in the upper tomb chamber need not be opened at all.

I told Shirley Yang: "Now I can guarantee that although Xian King's Tomb has a strange layout, since the lower level contains shadow bone, it must be divided into Heaven Gate and Earth Door, with the dragon's momentum lurking awaiting rise; this is a three-layer water tomb composed of tail, crab body, and goldfish eye; the true remains of Xian King must exactly coincide with the shadow bone in the wooden coffin; having confirmed the shadow bone, we can simply follow the vine to the melon and dig out Xian King."

We have been acting continuously for over ten hours since entering Gourd Cave, expending considerable energy and stamina, but now we finally have some leads; thinking of this lifts everyone's spirits.

I made a brief deployment, letting Shirley Yang and Pangzi stay in the "wooden coffin" to burn the two corpses—first to break the layout of Xian King's Tomb, second to prevent the corpses in the bronze outer coffin from undergoing corpse transformation; of course we can also take the bronze mirror along the way, which will surely be useful later.

Meanwhile I went up to look for the "Goldfish Eye"; before going up I especially instructed Shirley Yang to watch Pangzi, insisting she first ignite the coffin wood inside the bronze outer coffin, then take the bronze mirror; Shirley Yang nodded and agreed, handing me the "Flying Tiger Claw": "You too must be careful, don't always be so rash."

Afterwards I climbed back to the middle tomb chamber clinging to the rotten "wooden pole"; the nine faint blue "Longevity Candles" were still unextinguished, and the three candles in the southeast corner were still burning normally; the light was weak but it instantly made us feel reassured.

I looked up at the broken copper beam on the tomb ceiling; due to insufficient light I couldn't at first tell whether there was space above, but at the fracture point there was a vague large white object; my helmet's searchlight was useless, so I took out the "Wolf Eye" and then saw clearly that the exposed part of the tomb ceiling is a kind of speckled quartz similar to the yin-palace wall, roughly directly above the "shadow bone"; if I didn't know there might be another tomb layer above, I wouldn't notice this tiny trace.

I also used Shirley Yang's "Flying Tiger Claw" to climb to the remaining section of copper beam on the tomb top, clearing away the broken tomb bricks that blocked the white rock inside; it really took considerable effort, the area of white rock above gradually increased, revealing a long narrow olive‑shaped entrance; I took off my glove and reached in to test—there was a hissing flow of cold yin air; then I shone the "Wolf Eye" flashlight upward, but the height of the upper tomb chamber remains hard to determine.

At a rough glance it seems like a large round cavity above, similar to the funnel shape of the water pond outside, but this is artificially carved, its scale not large—the diameter of the big cavity is only a dozen meters; there is a winding spiraling earth slope ascending, and beyond that the "Wolf Eye"'s range is exceeded, leaving total darkness.

I kept cursing to myself: "Even if Xian King is dead, he still insists on placing himself at the highest point of the yin palace; his obsession with power and the Dao has reached a pathological degree." I still kept in mind my companions in the "wooden coffin"; seeing the entrance confirmed, I tied rope and rock wedges, returned to the ground of the middle tomb chamber, and only saw firelight flickering in the "wooden coffin" below, knowing Pangzi and the others had succeeded.

Soon after, Pangzi and Shirley Yang climbed up from below; that bronze mirror was now in hand—this is the second most valuable trophy after the Jade Box of the Heavenly Palace Rear Hall; Pangzi greeted them and asked: "The desiccated corpses in the bronze outer coffin really have no legs, replaced by stone legs—how's it going, Commander Hu, did you see any valuable burial goods up there?"

But at this moment I was staring blankly at the firelight in the "wooden coffin", deaf to Pangzi's words; after a while I came to, feeling that there was some important matter I just couldn't bring to mind—actually I don't know whether I can't recall it or I'm unwilling to think about it; the more I think the more my head hurts, so I try not to; I turned to Pangzi and Shirley Yang and said: "Above the middle tomb chamber is a great void; Xian King must surely be hanging at the very top, his position corresponding to the shadow bone in the wooden coffin.

Nobody wants to linger longer in the yin palace where the dead repose; after saying that we split up, using ropes to climb over three meters high to the tomb top, slipping into the entrance I had previously cleared; the round cavity is too high to see its top from below, here there is nothing else of brick or timber, just pure white quartzite surrounding the cavity's walls.

All around the surrounding walls are painted large colorful murals, Han and barbarian hues blended with religious tones, royal bearing coexisting with the ethereal illusion of the Dao; this is a painting style never before transmitted to the world; up close one sees the layout is meticulous, the intention strict, truly awe‑inspiring; I estimate that just because of these exquisite inner tomb murals, the core of Xian King's Tomb cannot be far off.

The figures in the paintings are all angry‑eyed heavenly deities, roughly human‑scale, all bowing their heads to gaze downward, as if staring at those coming up from the pit; their eyes are three‑layer crystal, inlaid with hard stone, flashing light; as we move, the glint in the painted eyes follows us; altogether the sensation of being watched by many paintings is very unpleasant. Pangzi felt his hair stand on end under the gaze of those painted figures, he grabbed an entrenching shovel and dug out a few crystal stone eyes at random, but the mural is huge, with over a hundred figures, and we couldn't possibly dig them all out at once, so we just tried not to look at the paintings' eyes, lest fear arise.

I kept thinking over and over about that scorching flame aura, the strangely shaped bronze figures, and didn't pay much attention to the murals in the great void; following the spiraling slope upward a stretch, I finally recalled—this was about ten years ago, as the saying goes: ten years pass in a snap, I still remember the battlefield smoke, nine deaths one life as if yesterday……

I really have seen such bronze figures with bizarre attire and posture before…… they were…… in the flying snow filling the sky at Kangba Qingpu at the foot of Kunlun Mountain……

All kinds of chaotic thoughts flooded in at once; unconsciously I had walked to the highest point of the void, keeping a turning distance from Pangzi and Shirley Yang, the way ahead blocked by a white stone wall; I looked up and saw a woman painted on the wall before me—this is probably a portrait of the Xian King's wife.

I was thinking that, not even having cleared the woman's attire and appearance, when suddenly my wrist tightened as if clamped by an iron ring; I hastily pulled back, but the grip was extremely tight, I couldn't break free, instantly feeling pain deep into my marrow; lowering my gaze I saw a pale white hand reaching out from the female figure's painting opposite, seizing my arm.

Those fingers were slender and pallid with no trace of blood, a woman's hand, yet possessed of immense strength; could this wall be the burial place of Xian King's wife? In the excruciating pain I had no time to lift my head to see if the opposite wall painting had changed, so I endured the ache, drew a breath, and with my other hand lifted the "Chicago Typewriter"; the miai's muzzle had not yet risen, when suddenly another hand shot out from the painting like a cold iron clamp, tightly gripping my neck; the sensation of suffocation instantly darkened my vision.