Chapter 177

The photo album that Uncle Ming showed me was filled with all kinds of coffins, the lids all opened wide, revealing the desiccated corpses inside, the eras and styles all different—some had one corpse per coffin, others had two corpses lying on their sides facing each other, a husband and wife sharing one coffin, and there were even dozens of desiccated corpses concentrated in a single giant coffin, all covered with transparent cases that isolated the air, said to be a private collection, but more like exhibits in a museum.

I asked Uncle Ming what these desiccated corpses were for—some people collect antiques, but who would have thought that even genuine "antiques" would have collectors? I had heard before that Xinjiang's desiccated corpses could fetch high prices, but seeing so many collected was truly a first, giving me a sense of having my eyes opened.

Uncle Ming said many foreign museums specialize in purchasing well-preserved ancient corpses; the research and aesthetic value of these corpses are documents that solidify the eternal beauty of death, containing immense commercial and cultural value.

Uncle Ming told me, "Old Brother Hu, since you've seen my collection, would you let me take a look at the corpse-suppressing ancient mirror you obtained from Yunnan? Name your price, or if you like any of my antiquities here, we can exchange."

I secretly thought, This Uncle Ming is a connoisseur; perhaps he knows the origin of that bronze mirror as well. Better to test the waters—first, I won't tell him that the ancient mirror no longer exists. So I asked Uncle Ming, "Is there any background to this mirror's origin?"

Uncle Ming laughed: "Old Brother Hu, you're trying to feel me out, but this bronze mirror is useless to you yet invaluable to me—there's nothing more perverse and evil in the world than this. As for its origin, though I've never seen it with my own eyes, when I heard a few friends in the antiquities trade mention it, I immediately thought it must be a pre-Qin artifact, without a doubt. You should know Qin Shi Huang was a Legalist, right?"

I only remembered that during the Cultural Revolution there was a period of "criticizing Confucianism, upholding Legalism," and I seemed to have heard something about Legalist theory, but I had no idea what it actually entailed, so I just nodded, pretending to understand. Da Jin Ya said from the side: "We all know this—during the Hundred Schools of Thought, there was such a school, a theory for governing and administering the state. By the mid-Han dynasty, after Confucianism was exalted, it was completely eradicated."

Uncle Ming continued: "Speaking frankly before the immortal, that corpse-suppressing, perverse-evil-repelling bronze mirror is the symbol of Legalism. Legend says it was forged on Mount Ziyang, able to reflect the four virtues of heaven and earth: propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame. According to records, in those days the Yellow River had corpses stirring up wind and waves, capsizing boats, so the Qin king ordered the mirror hung at the river mouth and stationed guards to watch it, until the Qin-Han transition, when this ancient mirror fell into the hands of the Han feudal princes, and eventually, somehow, it ended up in Yunnan. This ancient mirror, capable of being placed on a bronze coffin to suppress corpse transformation, is unique in the world—give it to me. I will absolutely not let you lose out."

I got the general idea, and though I felt a bit regretful, there's no selling regret medicine in this world—no matter how fair the price, I had nothing in my hands, so I frankly told Uncle Ming: I never had any ancient mirror to begin with; that was all Pangzi talking nonsense. What he said at the front gate, you might as well go listen to at Eight Treasure Mountain.

Having said that, I was about to rise and take my leave, but Uncle Ming seemed unconvinced, repeatedly urging me to stay, so I had to remain for a meal. Uncle Ming still thought I was reluctant to part with it, so he brought out another piece of ancient-looking jade, held it before me, and at a glance I knew it was no ordinary object. Seeing his intention to "swap guns" (exchange), those in our trade have rules: neither party should hand the item directly; if you want to show it to someone, you must first place it on the table and let the other pick it up themselves, never hand it directly, because these items are of considerable value—if dropped and damaged, responsibility would be unclear.

Since Uncle Ming was holding it, I felt awkward taking it, so I only glanced twice—though only as thick as a little finger, it was absolutely a piece of high-value cargo, and beside it, the scorching summer heat outside seemed to vanish completely.

Da Jin Ya loved jade most, and he praised it without cease: "The ancients said, 'Jade in the mountains makes the trees moist; produced in the water, it flows.' This jade phoenix, though small, when taken out, makes the whole room feel so moist, truly making us feel doubly refreshed. May I ask which Tang dynasty princess wore this?"

Uncle Ming proudly laughed: "Still, Old Brother Jin has good eyes— which princess? Though 'Tales of the Tianbao Era' is a fictional account, it also contains genuine material, and it says Yang Guifei held jade in her mouth and swallowed saliva to quench her lung thirst—referring precisely to this piece of jade. This material is carved from a piece of ancient jade sunk in the seabed for ten million years; jade's nature is moist, and prolonged immersion in seawater enhances its virtue, able to dispel heat, moisturize dryness, soften hardness, and detoxify—it is a priceless treasure, and also one of my most cherished possessions."

Da Jin Ya stared, eyes wide: "Since ancient times, whenever tombs are opened and ancient corpses are found lifelike, there must be a large quantity of fine jade inside their abdominal cavities—ancient jade pulled from zongzi is worth a city, let alone this, which the princess consort held daily in her mouth..." As he spoke, he leaned forward, sticking out his tongue to lick it.

Uncle Ming quickly withdrew his hand: "Are you kidding? Not now—after I exchange it with you, you may lick it however you like; you could even keep it in your mouth all day, and there would be no problem."

Uncle Ming, seeing I said nothing, thought my offer was too low, so he brought out another scroll, put on gloves, unfolded it for us to view, and told me: "If you just nod, this deep-sea moist jade, plus this Song dynasty original work 'Fall Mist West Ox Picture,' will all be yours."

I thought, Uncle Ming really does have plenty of good things—I'll first open my eyes and then speak. So I remained noncommittal, focused my gaze on that ancient scroll. We lot usually deal in antiques, but rarely touch paintings and calligraphy, having seen few original works. Yet after years of dealing with antiquities, I have a kind of intuition for such genuine items, and having seen many murals in ancient tombs, at a glance I knew this was almost certainly a genuine "immortal elixir." (Immortal elixir: top-grade)

The entire composition features two large diagonal cuts: the foreground is dominated by dense woods, an old ox chewing grass beneath the trees, lines simple and flowing, brushwork divine, rendering the old ox's gentle, composed demeanor vivid and lifelike; the middle ground has a thatched hut nestled in the forest; the distant view uses light ink to depict the mountains' shapes and twilight haze, with far, middle, and near layers blending naturally, washed to create a subtle interplay of emptiness and form, light smoke and thin mist, as if a layer of green gauze were draped over it, making one, after a moment, feel a sense of clear, deep, remote, ethereal comfort, a transcendent detachment from the mundane world.

Uncle Ming said that when night fell and the light dimmed, this ox that had been grazing under the trees would return to the thatched shed to lie down and sleep—this is an impossibly rare treasure.

I was instantly stunned: though the painting is fine, the ox in it moves—that's too supernatural. I had heard before that antique dealers sometimes use two paintings to deceive people—there's a traveler with an umbrella in the painting, and when it rains, the umbrella in the painting opens—actually, two paintings are secretly swapped, and the ignorant take it for a divine object. This 'Fall Mist West Ox Picture' might be the same.

But Uncle Ming immediately covered the light, then looked again at the old ox in the painting—surely, it had already lain down beside the thatched shed, the spot where it had been grazing now empty, and I gasped in shock—could this ancient painting truly be the work of a divine person?

Uncle Ming did not conceal it, speaking frankly: this painting was dyed with a palace-secret medicine, hence this marvel; even without this step, this 'Fall Mist Resting Ox Picture' would be enough to buy more than a dozen fine residences.

Uncle Ming brought out two more items, the price rising higher and higher—he had truly bled himself dry, it seemed he had long desired this. Seeing I still refused to agree, he went to look for something else.

I said to Uncle Ming: "Today we've truly opened our eyes—we've gained much insight here, but frankly, that Legalist patriarch's ancient mirror—I did obtain it, but an accident occurred, and I failed to bring it out; otherwise we could really have made this exchange. You've spent so much on this mirror—could it be that the zongzi in your mansion are omens of corpse transformation? If convenient, could you tell us? I happen to know a few methods to counter corpse transformation."

I also said to Uncle Ming: "Between us, there's no need for any scruples—we're in the same trade. Your displayed thirteen-whisker porcelain cat is worshipped by the corpse-bearers of Xiangxi; if so, you must certainly understand this path—how could you lack a way to deal with corpse transformation?"

Uncle Ming's ancestors were indeed corpse-bearers of Xiangxi—"corpse-bearing" does not mean carrying a corpse on one's back while walking, but a tomb-robbing method: dig a pit, dismantle the head-end blocking board of the coffin, crawl into the coffin facing backward, not daring to face downward, doing only "backhand work." These mysterious, strange rules—no one knows which dynasty they came from—but Uncle Ming's family struck it rich this way; later, his father, while corpse-bearing on Walking Horse Isle, encountered the Xiangxi Corpse King, lost his life, and the last generation of corpse-bearers ended there. Because the family wealth was vast and the ancestral skills were not passed down, he went to Nanyang to start a business, finally settling in Hong Kong.

Afterward, he began trading in desiccated corpses—desiccated corpses unearthed from deserts, gravel plains, high mountains, and wastelands, if they had some status and were well-preserved, labeled with the title of some king, general, or princess, could sit and reap profits, a hundredfold return, earning more than anything else—buyers were mostly museum exhibitors, private collectors, and the like, naturally all conducted underground.

Not long ago, an overseas museum came to Uncle Ming to discuss business—they had a volume of ancient scriptures obtained from Tibet, recording the peculiar phenomenon of a Tibetan demon kingdom princess's death: she died from a strange illness, and after death became a glacier crystal corpse, regarded as a divine sign, so they used the "Nine-Story Demon Tower" to entomb her on the snow mountain; the scriptures even mentioned specific clues about the tomb's location.

This is the biggest deal, but according to the information Uncle Ming gathered, this thousand-year glacier crystal corpse possesses extreme cold and heavy yin qi—without the stupa of the Tantric Lotus-born Master, an ordinary person approaching it would die, but such a thing is fundamentally unobtainable; in fact, corpse-suppressing things might be useless altogether—after thinking it over, perhaps using that ancient mirror could possibly draw her out from the Nine-Story Demon Tower.

I and Da Jin Ya had never heard this term before—the legend of the Xiangxi Corpse King we had long heard, but what is a glacier crystal corpse? How does it compare to the Xiangxi Corpse King?