Chapter 66

Main Text Chapter Sixty-seven Ghost Tomb

Pangzi said: "We're not afraid of ghost hitting the wall, what else is there to fear about all that messy nonsense? Go ahead and say it; even if we die, we'll at least be a sensible ghost, a confused ghost won't even be accepted by King Yama."

I said to Pangzi and Da Jin Ya: "I'm afraid you two won't understand, but I'm just making a judgment based on the phenomena we've encountered; I must be right about this, let me say it and you two see if it makes sense."

Pangzi and Da Jin Ya waited for me to say what I had thought of, but I didn't rush to speak; instead I first asked Da Jin Ya a question: "Master Jin, the broken stone tablet we saw in the small village beside Snake Coiled Slope, the palace lady mural we saw in the Underworld Palace, and the magnificently structured underground palace in the Front Hall—these are all genuinely Tang dynasty, there's no way we could be mistaken about that, right?"

Da Jin Ya nodded and said: "That's right, absolutely all Tang dynasty things—the craftsmanship, the structure, and the figures and clothing in the mural; if it weren't Tang dynasty I'd gouge out my own eyeballs and use them as bubbles to step on. But having said that, however..."

I got Da Jin Ya's confirmation, without waiting for him to finish, I said face-to-face: "But strangely, in this Tang dynasty tomb, a Western Zhou stone coffin has appeared, a tomb passage painted with Western Zhou rock art, and in the middle of the robber's tunnel, a Western Zhou tomb's outer wall has seemingly materialized out of nowhere."

Da Jin Ya and Pangzi said in unison: "Yeah, this isn't seeing a ghost alive?"

I said: "We shouldn't dismiss it; maybe we really have seen a ghost this time, though this ghost might be somewhat special."

Da Jin Ya said: "Special? Master Hu, are you saying it's the tomb owner's ghost? Is it from the Tang or the Western Zhou?"

I waved my hand: "No, it's not that; maybe my wording is off, but I really don't know how to describe it—calling it a ghost isn't quite right either, because I've heard many people say this isn't some superstitious theory but a special physical phenomenon, and quite a few experts study it; it currently lacks a dedicated term, so I think perhaps using the term 'ghost' would be more appropriate."

Pangzi asked: "Aren't ghosts and spirits the same thing? Old Hu, whose spirit are you talking about exactly?"

I said to Pangzi and Da Jin Ya: "Whose spirit? I think it's the spirit of a Western Zhou tomb—not the kind of ghost that becomes after a person dies, but the Western Zhou tomb itself is a spirit; this is the legendary Ghost Tomb in grave-robbing circles, a Western Zhou Ghost Tomb attached to this abandoned Tang mausoleum."

Da Jin Ya also partly understood, the more he thought the more right it seemed, nodding repeatedly, Da Jin Ya said: "Legends speak of Ghost Towers, Ghost Ships, Ghost Pagodas, and Ghost Carts; maybe what we've encountered is truly a Ghost Tomb."

Pangzi, however, grew more confused the more he listened, so he asked me and Da Jin Ya what our words meant, and whether we could say something easier to understand.

Da Jin Ya said to Pangzi: "I've been in the antique trade for many years, and I firmly believe this principle: exquisite objects gather countless efforts of skilled artisans; over time they develop a spirit, or rather a soul; when such an object is destroyed and no longer exists in the world, perhaps its soul remains—just like some luxurious liners that have clearly suffered shipwrecks and sunk to the seabed for years, yet occasionally crew members still spot the ship sailing on the sea; perhaps what they see is merely the ship's spirit."

Pangzi said: "So that's how it is; looks like I still had some foresight—when I first looked at that stone coffin, I'd already said maybe it's become a spirit after growing old, you two really are something; I had explained it so clearly back then, yet you two didn't react, I'm really fed up with you two idiots."

Da Jin Ya said: "When Master Hu mentioned this, I really think it's possible; earlier, a relative of ours came from Hunan to work in Fengtai, Beijing, and stayed at the New Garden Reception House in Fengtai; at the time he had room 303, that night it was very late, past twelve, he was so sleepy he could barely keep his eyes open, dazed he headed for the third floor, upon reaching the stairs he saw right ahead room 303, saw the door wasn't closed, didn't think much, pushed the door and went in, saw there was still a cup of hot water on the table, took a couple of sips, lay down on the bed and fell asleep; the next morning he was woken up and discovered he was actually sleeping on the stairs of the third floor."

Pangzi asked: "Old Jin, are you saying your relative also encountered a Ghost Tower?"

Da Jin Ya said: "Yeah, the attendant at the guesthouse asked him why he was sleeping on the stairs, he explained the whole thing, at first he thought he was sleepwalking, but when he saw the door of room 303 was locked, nothing inside had moved, the bedding wasn't even opened, so he just left in a daze. Later he went to Fengtai and stayed at the Xin Yuan Guesthouse again; while chatting, he heard that this Xin Yuan Guesthouse had once burned down in a fire and was later rebuilt exactly as before, except it was somewhat larger in scale, everything else unchanged, even the door numbers identical. Every year a few guests clearly enter their rooms but are found sleeping outside in the morning, yet no casualties or accidents occur, so it hasn't drawn attention, and nobody takes it seriously. I once heard this relative mention it, just as casual after‑tea talk, and I never paid much mind, but now it seems we've encountered this kind of ghost tomb too."

Da Jin Ya also said to me: "Still, Lao Hu, you're quick on the uptake—look, I'm scared senseless, I've just come to, my head's a tangled mess; even if I racked my brains, even if one head could produce two, I still couldn't think of these."

I said: "Ashamed, I only thought of this after being driven to desperation; my head aches now too, I've gone over every detail, and I feel we must have run into a ghost tomb—otherwise how could there be two ancient graves overlapping?"

Two dynasties, two eras, both took a fancy to this feng shui treasure spot; such a situation does occur, especially this kind of concealed‑pit formation, truly a superb dragon vein and auspicious site, extremely hard to come by.

Once this crucial point is understood, the remaining problems are readily solved; this concealed‑pit treasure spot at Dragon Ridge very likely caught someone's eye as early as the Zhou dynasty, though back then they lacked the rich, detailed feng shui theory of the Tang era; nevertheless, the highest realm of harmony between heaven and humanity has been humanity's ultimate goal since the day humans appeared.

A certain Zhou royal, after death, was buried here in a human‑face stone coffin; the tomb's structure is roughly what we see: an outer wall of massive stone, three layers inside—on the lowest layer a large quantity of burial goods, mainly livestock and artifacts of the time; the middle layer holds the stone coffin containing the deceased; apart from that, nothing else, even any important personal burial items the tomb owner carried would be placed inside the coffin with the body; the top layer is the entrance to the sealed passage, and the stone steps we now stand on lie between the upper and middle layers.

The occupant of that human‑face stone coffin could have rested here for a millennium, but at some point before the Tang dynasty, for reasons unknown to us—perhaps war, perhaps tomb robbery, or even political struggle—the tomb was utterly destroyed.

Later, in the Tang dynasty, a feng shui master employed by the royal household to survey the land also took a liking to this concealed‑pit treasure spot in Dragon Ridge, and so, for an important female member of the imperial family, they began to excavate the mountain and build a mausoleum here.

However, when the tomb was half‑finished, they discovered this concealed‑pit, which had been used long ago; halting a royal mausoleum project midway is highly inauspicious: first, it wastes the people's labor and wealth, all the manpower, money, and materials already expended come to nothing; second, changing the burial site offends the principal ancestor.

Compared to these, even more ominous is having two tombs in one pit; even if the earlier ancient tomb no longer exists, should this situation arise, even executing the feng shui masters who selected the vein and pointed out the spot, along with their nine clans, could not remedy it; most likely the officials overseeing the tomb construction and the feng shui masters, to avoid bringing disaster upon themselves, colluded and fabricated falsehoods to deceive the emperor, prompting him to spend money elsewhere to build a new mausoleum anew.

The suddenly appearing human‑face stone coffins we encountered, the tomb walls bearing rock carvings, and the huge boulders blocking the looters' tunnel—even the spots where candles had been placed in the tunnel were replaced by massive stones—all of this is that long‑destroyed Zhou tomb, its ghost suddenly bursting forth.

Da Jin Ya heard my analysis and agreed wholeheartedly, but there's one point he can't connect: "If this place already harbors a tomb that was completely destroyed long ago—a ghost tomb—why wasn't it noticed until the Tang mausoleum was nearly finished, yet as soon as we entered the looters' tunnel the ghost tomb popped out? That seems far too coincidental."

Da Jin Ya raised a difficult point; if we can't make sense of it, our hypothesis falls apart—even with the worst luck, it couldn't be this coincidental; normally there is none, or at most an intermittent "tomb ghost," yet the moment we stepped in front, it sprang out behind us.

Theoretically, the so‑called ghost tomb, though tangible and visible, is not a solid entity but a residual force field of a material object; it is not constantly present, but appears in stages, and how much will eventually manifest—whether the entire Zhou great tomb will be revealed, only half, or even less—remains unknown.

I said to Da Jin Ya: "This is the dragon vein's dragon head, and it also conceals a pit—one could say it's unrivaled under heaven, capturing wind and gathering qi. This great Zhou tomb, endowed with vital qi, has the qi moving underground and, due to the land's configuration, converging within; this is total qi, the primordial pure qi of the six directions, which transforms to give birth to all things in heaven and earth, the source of myriad beings; this qi is one manifestation of that primordial pure qi. A tomb built on such a top‑grade auspicious site absorbs spiritual qi, so even after destruction, though its form is lost, it still resides within the qi‑channels of the pit—nothing strange about that. What's strange is why this ghost tomb appears now; in other words, is it normally absent, and only manifests because we triggered something or performed some special act?"

Da Jin Ya said to me: "Look, Lao Hu, from all the signs we see, after the Zhou tomb was destroyed, three groups of people have come here; two of those groups include us, the Corpse‑Exhuming Captains, and though decades separated them, both encountered this ghost tomb and were trapped inside it. Moreover, the earliest group must have been the builders of the Tang tomb—naturally a large workforce, constructing the imperial Tang mausoleum to this extent wasn't done overnight; they were nearly finished when they discovered the ghost tomb here. During the earlier construction, why didn't they notice it at the start?"

I nodded: "Yeah, regardless of order, it must be that some special action drew the ghost tomb out, yet we haven't done anything—we'd barely crawled halfway into the looters' tunnel when the stone wall behind us suddenly sprang up and blocked the path."

Da Jin Ya pondered bitterly: "That Zhou tomb must have been utterly demolished, not a brick or stone left; the Tang tomb builders assumed this was merely a huge natural cavern—both a feng shui spot and a way to avoid the trouble of quarrying—so they surely only discovered the ghost tomb later; likewise, the Corpse‑Exhuming Guards who dug the tunnel at the Fish‑Bone Temple, including us three, must have all done the same thing to trigger the ghost tomb—but what exactly is that thing?"

I said to Da Jin Ya: "Don't rush; since we already have a clue, I think if we find the root cause we might be able to make the ghost tomb vanish. The people who built the Tang mausoleum and those who dug the tunnel at the Fish‑Bone Temple probably, after discovering the ghost tomb, also thought of this point, which is why they could leave; we should all give it good thought."

Pangzi said: "In my view, we can use the method of elimination—what ancient people could do, we can also do; those should be considered first. Anything modern that ancient people couldn't have can be ruled out, no need to rack our brains over it."

I never thought Pangzi would be this sensible: "All right, little fatty, I thought you were just a good-for-nothing who only knew how to eat and drink, but you actually came up with that damn elimination method!"

Pangzi laughed and said: "It's all because we're hungry; I think when a person gets so hungry they go crazy, their brain gets sharp. Anyway, when I'm eating, that's when my grandma's brain works the worst."

Da Jin Ya said: "We could narrow the scope a bit more. The people who built the Tang tomb discovered the ghost grave when the project was almost finished, whereas we got trapped as soon as we entered the robber's tunnel."

Pangzi said: "With your level, you're still trying to practice grave-robbing? You're pig-headed. Let me give you a hint: ancient people used it, we use it—what else could it be? Isn't it obvious? Candles!"

"Candles?" I also thought of that, but it probably isn't candles. How could ancient people work in a cave without lighting? Candles would be used now and then, right?

Although I don't know the exact circumstances of how the Tang dynasty built tombs, it's absolutely impossible that they would only use candles when the project was nearly finished; there must be some other reason. However, candles are something we're sensitive to—could it be that the Tang dynasty had some tradition forbidding the lighting of candles when constructing large mausoleums? That basically goes against common sense; there wouldn't be such a strange rule. If such a rule really existed, my ancestral fragmentary manuscript would certainly have recorded it.

As we were thinking things through, eliminating possibilities one by one, suddenly the two large white geese that Pangzi was leading started fighting each other. Pangzi cursed: "You damn things, you two flat-haired beasts, what's your problem? In a moment, Old Master will roast you two and eat you!" The two large geese squabbled fiercely, completely ignoring Pangzi's threats.

Pangzi found it amusing and laughed as he said to me and Da Jin Ya: "Lao Hu Lao Jin, have you ever seen this? We've only ever seen cockfights, but now we have a goose fight—turns out geese are just as feisty."

Upon seeing the two large white geese Pangzi was leading, it was like a flash of lightning in the dark night, and I said to Pangzi: "Goose... goose..."

Pangzi said: "Goose, goose, goose—white feathers floating on green water, red feet stirring the clear waves."

I said: "No, no, I mean I just didn't think of the geese. Do you know what has to be done when an underground palace of an ancient tomb is about to be completed? They have to sacrifice three livestock to heaven and bind three fowl to earth."

Da Jin Ya exclaimed: "Ah, Master Hu, are you saying that the two geese we brought lured out the ghost grave?"

I said: "Yeah, damn it, how did I not think of that? I imagine that the grave-robbing officials who dug the tunnel at the Fish Bone Temple, after breaking into the underground palace, to test the air quality in the spirit hall, must have used the same old method of our grave-robbing trade—using live fowl to probe the air. They brought chickens, ducks, geese, and that's why they got trapped by the ghost grave."

When building tombs in ancient times, after the underground palace structure was completed, they would slaughter the three livestock—pig, cow, and sheep—and bind five fowl to the ground inside the tomb, in order to drive away the nearby spirits and pray to heaven for peace in the area, so that the tomb's occupant could rest undisturbed.

This is called "Three Livestock Reach Heaven, Three Fowl Reach Earth." Offering the pig, cow, and sheep heads together is very solemn, allowing the message to be conveyed to the highest heavens; the three fowl are sacrificed to the earthly spirits. Livestock can condense the lingering qi of the true cavity, so burial pits must inter livestock to follow the Star Palace and regulate the earth's veins.

Da Jin Ya said: "Wild geese are called 'geese' when domesticated; once wild geese are tamed, they become geese. Among the three fowl, the goose is the most spiritual; legend says geese can see ghosts. Perhaps it's because we unintentionally brought geese into the robber's tunnel, disturbing this Western Zhou ghost grave."

I grabbed a large white goose, took out my sabre, regardless of whether it was the right one, I decided to slaughter both geese to find out, raising the knife to cut their tracheas.

Da Jin Ya suddenly seemed to think of something, quickly grabbing my hand: "Don't, Master Hu—I just realized we were wrong."