Chapter 42

Main Text Chapter 42: Truth and Falsehood

How can we distinguish reality from illusion? If this stone chamber and the prophecy inside the Prophet's stone chest are both illusions created by the Corpse-scent Magic Taro, when exactly did this illusion begin?

I feel my brain can't handle this kind of complex problem; if Shirley Yang could help analyze it, that would be great—my and Pangzi's brains combined still wouldn't match half of hers.

However, I think the idea that the Corpse-scent Magic Taro creates hallucinations that make us kill each other is just speculation; that magic flower is indeed powerful—what I saw on the stone beam in the Ghost Cave still shocks me, but I don't have absolute certainty that the Prophet's prophecy is a trap.

Pangzi saw I was spacing out again and nudged me: "What's wrong, Lao Hu? Why do you keep staring blankly lately? Are we still going to deal with that American girl or not?"

I had Pangzi watch Professor Chen, then leaned in to ask Shirley Yang: "You say your grandfather was also a grave robber before going to America, with no proof—how can I believe you?"

Shirley Yang stared at me hatefully and said: "You damned thief, believe it or not… I'm wearing my grandfather's relic around my neck—you'll know at a glance."

A relic? Could it be a Gold-touching Talisman? I indeed saw two necklaces hanging from her neck; when I pulled them out to look, one was a cross, the other was indeed a Gold-touching Talisman made from pangolin claws.

This item is extremely secretive in the world—not every grave robber has one, and even most grave robbers have never seen it. Its value varies by person; the Gold-touching Talisman itself isn't particularly valuable—if it fell on the ground, even a scavenger might not bother picking it up. But to grave robbers who pass it down through generations, it's priceless, symbolizing a certain qualification.

I picked up Shirley Yang's Gold-touching Talisman and examined it closely—people compare themselves to others and die; goods compare and get thrown away. Compared to hers, the two Gold-touching Talismans that Da Jin Ya gave me and Pangzi are simply not worth keeping.

At a glance, Shirley Yang's Gold-touching Talisman is clearly an antique from the Eastern Han period; the two seal-script characters 'touch gold' on it have vigorous, sturdy strokes, exuding an ancient aura. Made from the sharpest pangolin claws, it is faintly translucent like black crystal; despite its age, it shows no wear, the claw base is wrapped in a gold wire, and its entire body is engraved with a flying tiger pattern to ward off evil.

Compared to hers, the two we have are obviously fake—clearly artificially aged, with inferior materials and craftsmanship. Damn it, that grandson Da Jin Ya is fooling us with counterfeit goods; I wonder why I never bothered to check them before.

I held Shirley Yang's Gold-touching Talisman in my hand for a long time, somewhat reluctant to let go, hating to put it down—I really didn't want to return it to her.

Shirley Yang shouted: "Hurry up and return it—if you just want to harm me, fine, but do you also want to rob me?"

I hung the Gold-touching Talisman back around Shirley Yang's neck and said: "Since your grandfather was also a grave robber, why do you keep calling us damned thieves? You're practically insulting your grandfather too—treating you this way has its reasons." I then told her the stone-chamber prophecy on the second level exactly as it was, and finally said to her: "All of this might be a death hallucination produced by the Corpse-scent Magic Taro, but until we confirm it, I can't let you go."

After hearing that, Shirley Yang's expression eased a little: "Then hurry up and think of a solution—do you think being tied up by you is comfortable? Later I'll make you taste the same."

I stood up and paced the room a few steps, staring at the stone painting on the second-level stone chest, really afraid to act rashly. If this prophecy isn't an illusion but true, then opening the second-level stone chest without killing someone would immediately summon an evil ghost that would slaughter everyone. I feel it's worse than stepping on a landmine—stepping on a mine at most blows myself up, but this prophecy's truth decides four lives, making it truly hard to decide.

Professor Chen had gone mad, and Shirley Yang was also somewhat suspicious, so I had no choice but to discuss it with Pangzi. I told him all my deductions, knowing he couldn't really help, but I still hoped to find someone to share the burden.

After hearing that, Pangzi nodded and said: "Oh, so that's what's going on—I get it. You're worried we're still stuck in the illusion created by that dog-tail flower. You should have told me earlier; such a trivial matter, I'll take care of it right away."

I exclaimed: "You can tell the difference? This is no child's play—we can't mess around. One wrong move and we'll lose the whole board."

Pangzi said nothing, raised his hand and slapped me; he was fast, I had no guard, and the blow landed squarely—my face burned with pain.

I was about to retaliate, but then I heard Pangzi ask: "How does it feel? Does it hurt or not?"

I rubbed my face: "Damn it, the son hits the father—you've turned against me. Whether it hurts or not, try me slapping you and you'll know if it hurts." As soon as I said that, I realized: if we can feel pain, then we're not in an illusion; it seems we aren't being controlled by the Corpse-scent Magic Taro.

I turned back to press Shirley Yang for more answers, but a quick glance showed the stone painting on the second level of the stone chest changing. I hurried over to look closely, yet the three stone paintings gradually blurred and vanished, leaving only a blank small stone chest with a lid sealed in cowhide lacquer, meant for long-term preservation of its valuables.

Looking at the first-level stone chest, there was no change at all—each panel still depicted the Prophet's prophecies, finally showing a stone painting of four people opening the ground-level stone chest.

What's going on? Could it be that there's both truth and falsehood? I pulled Pangzi over to have him look at what's on the second-level stone chest, and he said, "Isn't it still those three stone paintings?"

I raised my hand and slapped him: "Take another look—are there still any stone paintings?"

Pangzi covered his face and said: "Ah… this… it's gone now—damn, it's really damn spooky. Let me see what damn thing is in here." Having said that, he reached out and pulled open the second-level stone chest.

I exclaimed, "Your hand is too fast; I only let you take a look, not to do anything else." However, after the second stone coffin was opened, nothing happened at all; all four of us were fine, and no evil ghost killing occurred.

Based on my experience, I infer that we were indeed controlled in vision by the "corpse-scent devil's tuber" just now; this demonic flower's power far exceeds our estimate, and it is not limited to producing illusions only on the stone beams of the ghost cave.

At that time I wanted to rush over the stone beam to rescue Sa Dipeng, but I fell into its visual trap; afterward Pangzi and Shirley Yang pulled me back, and when I turned my head and glanced, the petals of the corpse-scent devil's tuber, which had originally been closed together, all opened wide, facing us.

From that time on, the hallucinatory range of the corpse-scent devil's tuber expanded; after our searchlights went out, many black snakes appeared. Judging by the situation then, of the five of us, two were unable to move, yet amidst the snakes' siege, nobody was bitten—truly a miracle. Looking back, those snakes must have been false illusions.

The corpse-scent devil's tuber created this illusion of many black snakes attacking in order to drive us into a fissure in the mountain and bury ourselves alive there; unexpectedly, we fled farther and farther in the fissure and unintentionally entered the prophet's tomb.

Although this stone demon flower is formidable, the range it controls ultimately has its limit; being too far from us, it can no longer produce strong illusions, so it altered the simplest stone carving to lure us into killing each other.

Moreover, the horror of the corpse-scent devil's tuber lies in the fact that it does not produce illusions through the human five senses; as long as you have glanced at it once and remembered its bewitching color, within a certain distance you will be deluded by it, although the farther away, the weaker this illusion's power.

Even if only one or two people survive in the end, they will suffer a mental breakdown from having personally killed their companions, so the secret of the Queen of Jingjue will never be known—what a vicious thing, damn it.

At this point Pangzi had already taken out the object from the second stone coffin—a book made of sheepskin; I estimate that the prophet's revelations, the lost Kingdom of Jingjue, and the secrets of the ghost cave are all in this book.