Chapter 55

From Old Liu's words, I vaguely heard something: before liberation, a merchant funded the construction of a Fishbone Temple on Dragon Ridge, making offerings to the Dragon King—this in itself was odd; why build a Dragon King Temple not by the river, but in those ravine-riddled mountains?

According to Old Liu, the Fishbone Temple was small, making it even stranger—why go to such trouble for such a tiny temple? Could there truly be a favorable feng shui spot in Dragon Ridge suitable for building a temple?

It shouldn't be that simple. Adding Old Liu's claim that Dragon Ridge hides a huge Tang dynasty ancient tomb makes it even more suspicious. I smirked coldly: damn it, maybe the merchant who funded the Fishbone Temple is a fellow grave robber—he built the temple as a cover, his real aim being to dig a secret passage into the tomb to loot treasures.

But I can't figure this out: since Dragon Ridge's terrain is treacherous and rarely visited, why go through all this trouble for nothing?

Then it hit me: the tomb must be extremely deep, not something you can dig a passage into the underworld palace in a day or two. He must have picked the right spot but thought it would take too long, worrying that frequent visits would draw suspicion from locals, so he built the Fishbone Temple and secretly dug a tunnel beneath it—even if someone passed by occasionally, they wouldn't notice. Brilliant.

Still, these theories need verification by going to Dragon Ridge myself. I don't know if that fake merchant, posing as a tomb robber, found the legendary great tomb—but either way, I want to see the Fishbone Temple on Dragon Ridge.

I again asked Old Liu for the detailed route to Dragon Ridge and the local terrain.

Old Liu said: "The Fishbone Temple is on the edge of Dragon Ridge—you can go look at it, but remember: never go deep into Dragon Ridge. That range is extremely dangerous, full of hidden sinkholes you can't see from the surface—just a thin crust of earth; step on it and you fall in, unable to climb out. Supposedly the underground is all solution caves, bewilderingly complex and winding—locals call them the Dragon Ridge Labyrinth, harder to navigate than a maze. Worse still, the labyrinth is haunted. Take my advice: never go in."

Old Liu mentioned that five geological survey workers went into Dragon Ridge's caves for inspection and all vanished. The county folk spread the tale: they encountered a ghost-built wall in Dragon Ridge, and to this day, no bodies or survivors have been found—it's been over two years.

I thanked him repeatedly, saying: "We're just going to the Fishbone Temple to see something new, to check out the Iron Head Dragon King's bones. What would we do in Dragon Ridge's wild mountains? Rest assured."

Old Liu returned home drunk. I shut the door and secretly discussed with Pangzi and Da Jin Ya: we must go into the Dragon Ridge Labyrinth, see if we can find anything good—even if the tomb's been looted, maybe nearby villages still have one or two items; that wouldn't make this Shaanxi trip a waste.

Pangzi asked me: "Old Hu, what's our chance this time? Don't let it be like last time in Wild Man Gulch—we exhausted ourselves, risked our lives, and came back with only two broken tiles, not even jade."

I said: "This time we don't have much confidence either, but it's rare to hear of a great tomb in Dragon Ridge that remains unfound. I'm itching to check it out—maybe heaven will open its eyes and let us make a big score, so we can repay that American girl's money and stop feeling ashamed in front of her. Still, whether the tomb has survived until now is debatable. I estimate the merchant who funded the Fishbone Temple before liberation was likely a master tomb robber—he built the temple to dig a tunnel into the tomb's underground palace. If he succeeded, we're out of luck. Either way, prepare well—we'll see when we get there."

Da Jin Ya perked up at the mention of tomb robbing—he's long envied this line of work, but every spring his asthma flares up, and he's never truly participated in a tomb robbery. Plus, the grave robbers he deals with are just rural amateurs digging randomly, turning up nothing valuable. Da Jin Ya desperately wants to join a big operation himself, but never got the chance. Now it's late summer, his asthma—an allergic type—is less likely to act up. With me and Pangzi, two experienced tomb robbers, he feels emboldened.

Still, I advised him not to enter the underworld palace—better to stay outside and keep watch for me and Pangzi. If anything goes wrong underground, we'll have someone above to respond.

I made my preparations: this trip wasn't expected to find a great tomb—first, we're inland; second, local tombs have mostly been picked clean.

I never thought Dragon Ridge might hold a Tang dynasty great tomb—truly unexpected. We didn't bring many tools. The military shovel, useful for both defense and digging, I never part with—but I lost one in the Yellow River, so only Pangzi carries one now.

Moving through tunnels and caves requires adequate lighting. We have three Wolf-Eye flashlights—German-made, with a thirty-meter range, extremely focused beam, even usable as a weapon: shine it in an enemy or beast's eyes at close range, and they lose vision instantly.

The Wolf-Eye came from Shirley Yang when we were together in the Xinjiang desert—she provided the advanced gear. When she returned home, she gave me most of the remaining equipment, which I accepted without hesitation—after all, I already owe her a lot, even had my life saved by her at Snake Mouth, so I still owe her a life. More lice don't bite, more debt doesn't worry—adding another favor doesn't matter.

What worries me most is lacking gas masks—only a few simple respirators. In this small town of Gantian, gas masks are hard to find. Past tomb robbers passed down old methods to avoid air poisoning: first, use a birdcage—we tried that once in Wild Man Gulch; second, use candles—essential tools for tomb robbers. As long as there's no chemical gas, the simple masks will suffice.

I made a list for Pangzi to buy nearby whatever he can; if unavailable, we'll find another way. We need two live geese—I stressed they must be alive, or Pangzi might just buy roasted goose.

We also need candles, rope, fireman's hook, gloves, canned food, dried meat, liquor, and to check if the post office has detailed local maps—ideally, buy some chocolate for energy. The rest we already have—this is all for now.

Pangzi asked: "Nowhere to buy guns—what do we do without them? I feel timid without a gun in hand."

I said: "Around here there are no wild beasts—no need for guns. Even if we meet something, a military shovel is enough. You think this is deep mountain forest? Only in borders or remote areas would you hunt for guns from poachers. Inland, guns are hard to get. And even if we had them, they'd be useless—we're just making this plan; plans don't survive contact—maybe the tomb in Dragon Ridge Labyrinth has already been cleaned out."

Da Jin Ya nodded: "Boss Hu is right—Old Liu said Dragon Ridge underground has many solution caves, typical karst terrain, which often lies on seismic zones. If there truly is a Tang tomb, from then to now, who knows what changes occurred? We'll prepare thoroughly, but can't hope too much."

I suddenly remembered: Shaanxi has many corpse-nurturing grounds—what if we run into a zongzi? This makes me want to punch Da Jin Ya for giving us fake tomb-robbing talismans several times, nearly getting us killed.

Da Jin Ya, hearing this, forced a smile and explained: "Boss Hu, Boss Pang, please don't be angry—I didn't know back then. My family's old master wore just such talismans and came to no harm. In my view, it's just psychological—if you two haven't seen a real talisman and keep using my fakes as genuine, you wouldn't feel so insecure now. Let's get two real ones—I'll cover the cost. Though the talisman is ancient, with effort, we can still obtain them."

I laughed: "Then I'll trouble you, Brother Jin, to get us two real ones—frankly, going into tombs without this talisman leaves me uneasy; working without confidence is more dangerous than anything."

Finally I said: "Alright, let's not fear the evil and strange—places with great tombs usually have decent feng shui; the chance of zombies is too low—no need to worry over that."

Our plan set, we each rested. After days of travel fatigue plus several drinks, I slept until the next afternoon. Pangzi and Da Jin Ya went to buy supplies in town; I visited Old Liu again to learn more about the Dragon Ridge Labyrinth.

But Old Liu repeated last night's points—this area has many legends about the labyrinth, yet they're mostly baseless rumors, with little solid information. Others are the same—mention the labyrinth and they turn pale, talking about ghosts and vengeful spirits haunting it. Unless forced, few dare go there.

Seeing no point in further questions, I stopped, rested another day in Gantian, then followed Old Liu's directions, shouldering two live geese in bamboo baskets, and set out for the Fishbone Temple on Dragon Ridge.

This is: one foot steps onto the path of life and death, two hands push open the gate of right and wrong.