Chapter 95: Chapter Ninety-Six: Vat Monster

Chapter Ninety-Six: Vat Monster

The militiamen used a pulley winch to wind up the iron chain, and under the pull of the chain a huge black object "splosh" dripped water as it was hoisted from the pool. Because the torchlight was limited, the object was black, and at first only its rough outline could be seen—round and thick, like a large water vat. One thing was certain: it was not some aquatic animal, but a huge object.

None of us had ever seen Laozi's alchemical furnace; could it really be what I guessed? What a coincidence in this world. To see more clearly, I had Shirley Yang hold up a flashlight for illumination, while I myself raised the torch stuck in the ground and moved in close to examine it.

At this point the entire black huge object had been lifted out of the water. The militia platoon leader and others secured the winch and also came over to look. The pool's diameter was less than three meters, more like a somewhat larger well opening. We stood at the edge and could reach out to touch the hoisted object.

In the light of the torch and flashlight, this time we could see it clearly: it was a "large vat," at least outwardly resembling a water tub. Its body was covered with countless tiny holes, etched with many strange patterns. Shirley Yang and I have seen many antiquities, but this kind of peculiar thing we had never seen before. We really couldn't figure out what it was, its age and origin were completely indiscernible, and we didn't know who had gone to such trouble to suspend it with several iron chains in the pool—was this broken vat really worth such secrecy?

The vat's mouth was sealed; the lid was a pointed top, looking very heavy, and on its side were six fastening bolts that locked it shut. To open the lid, one only needed to remove those six bolts.

The "giant vat" is surrounded by finger‑sized holes; when submerged in the pool, the vat can fill with pool water through those holes, but as soon as the winch lifts the iron chain above the water surface, all the water stored in the vat will leak out. All water vats in the world are used to hold water, 【unintelligible】.

Even the militia platoon leader, a rough fellow, could see that this was not Laozi's alchemical furnace, and he couldn't help asking: "Chief Hu, why doesn't this look like the furnace Laozi used to prepare elixirs? It's more like the leaky vat we have at home."

I said to the militia platoon leader: "Platoon Leader Comrade, you just don't understand—does your home water vat have so many patterns? Look at those ancient, peculiar designs; it must be an antique. Just wait for the cultural relics bureau to come and award you villagers a commendation."

Shirley Yang, after examining this strange vat, also felt doubtful: "This doesn't look like a water tub. To me it looks more like a torture device."

I told Shirley Yang: "I know what you mean—you're suggesting putting a living prisoner into a leaky vat, submerging it in the pool, waiting until he's almost drowned, then hoisting the vat out and draining the water. Such a device does exist; I've seen it in movies, and reactionaries often used that torture on our indomitable underground guerrillas. But I don't think this strange vat is a torture device—why would a torture instrument need such exquisite carving? The patterns on this vat are exquisitely detailed; it's clearly been around for a while. Guessing won't help. Let's go up, pull out the bolts, and see what's inside—maybe it's an elixir."

The militia platoon leader stopped me, saying: "Chief Hu, we dare not just open it—what if the vat is sealed with some demon? What would we do if it got out?"

I told the militia platoon leader: "How many times have I told you? This kind of place couldn't have monsters. Just now we saw the iron chain in the pool trembling—maybe the pool connects to an underground lake below, and a big fish or shrimp in the lake bumped into this vat. Don't be suspicious of gods and ghosts. If you still think that way, I can't help it; let the facts speak. You all step back to cover me, and watch me go up alone to unscrew the lid. Even if there really is a fierce demon inside, it'll bite me first, and I'll be damned if I don't see who dares to bite me."

They couldn't stop me, so they rigged a hand‑hold and lifted me onto the top of the "strange vat." This peculiar vat and its iron chain were very sturdy; I stood on it, a bit wobbly, but the chain showed no sign of breaking under the weight.

I climbed onto the vat's top and felt it—only then did I discover that the vat's exterior was wrapped in three layers of iron sheet coated with raw lacquer, very solid, not an ordinary earthenware tub. I thought to myself: "Damn, what is this stout vat holding? Maybe it really is sealing some demon; if we open it, we'll take one look and immediately reseal the lid if anything's amiss."

Shirley Yang and the militiamen stood below, looking up at me, all breaking a sweat for me, constantly reminding me to be careful. I removed two bolts, raised my hand and waved to the people below: "Comrades, comrades, thanks for your hard work." Then I kept my head down and unscrewed the next bolt; these bolts had been soaked in water a long time but were not rusty, and could be pulled out with a firm tug.

I had just undone the fifth bolt when the "strange vat" beneath my feet suddenly shuddered, as if something inside was struggling violently. I stood on top, lost my balance, and nearly fell headfirst. I quickly grabbed the upper iron chain with my hand, firmly securing my off‑balance body.

In fact, something inside the vat suspended in mid‑air was moving; the vat is after all heavy, so its sway was slight, but I was unprepared and got startled. I clung to the iron chain and heard only a chaotic "crackle‑pop" from within, as if something was straining hard.

Could Professor Sun be trapped inside? He's been soaking in the pool for so long and still hasn't drowned? Down below, Shirley Yang and the three militiamen also heard the noise, and they all shouted Professor Sun's name at the "strange vat," telling him not to panic—we'll rescue him right away.

The noise inside the vat continued, but no one answered. Anxious to save him, I didn't bother with anything else and immediately pulled out the last bolt. The space around the vat's rim was limited, so I gripped the iron chain with my hand and tried to kick the lid open with my foot.

At that moment a thought suddenly popped into my head: "In ancient times there was a kind of coffin‑vat, using a vat as a coffin to bury the dead, though it's extremely rare—I've never encountered one. Could this peculiar leaky vat actually be a coffin‑vat, with an undead corpse wreaking havoc inside?"

Shirley Yang and I had come to Shaanxi this time and had also brought two flashlights, but they were both in Shirley Yang's pack. Now I had climbed onto the vat's top; besides the "touch‑food talisman," I carried no equipment, not even a black donkey. If there really were zongzi, they'd be a hassle, but I quickly dismissed that thought. I have great faith in my half‑copy of the *Sixteen‑Character Yin‑Yang Feng Shui Secret Technique*; since the book says such a place won't have zombies, there definitely won't be any. Damn the philosophy—if there really were zongzi, when I get back I'll have you tear that half‑book apart. Right now I gritted my teeth, steeled myself, and kicked the vat lid open.

The cave was already dark; Shirley Yang and the three militiamen were holding torches below. When I came up I hadn't brought a flashlight, and now, suspended in mid‑air, all I could see inside the "strange vat" was a murky blackness, and the flicker of the torches below blinded my eyes further, so I couldn't see anything. I bent down, hoping to have those below toss a flashlight up, but as soon as I stooped, a foul stench shot straight up my nose, choking me so I could barely breathe.

I quickly covered my nose and glanced with my eyes into the vat; in the darkness a white human hand reached out from inside. I cried out in surprise, "Professor Sun?" and immediately grabbed that hand, trying to pull him up.

But as soon as my hand touched that arm in the vat, I felt something wrong—it was wet and hard, a bone rather than a living person's hand. By the time I realized that, it was too late; in my haste I had already yanked the bone and pulled up a skeleton with its mouth wide open.

Although the "strange vat" was suspended in mid‑air and the light source was lower down, making the things inside invisible, the skeleton I had pulled out was clearly visible—pale as bone, glistening with water. This was completely unexpected; the psychological shock was too great, and I let out a loud yell, flipped off the vat, and fell headfirst into the pool.

At that moment I fell into the pool, yet I didn't panic. I opened my eyes underwater; with no light source, I had to swim back to the pool's mouth immediately, otherwise I would choke to death in the water. But all around was pitch black; as I fell, my head spun, I completely lost my sense of direction, and I could hear nothing in the water—it truly felt as if I were dead. At most I could hold out another half minute; it seemed I wouldn't make it back.

Just as I had given up hope, suddenly my vision brightened—someone was swimming toward me with a waterproof flashlight. It was no stranger; it was Shirley Yang, who had seen me fall into the pool. The pool's mouth is narrow above and wide below; once you fall in, if you don't swim back within two minutes you'll drown below. She didn't dare delay, grabbed a rope from the militiamen, took the flashlight, and plunged into the pool.

I knew I could no longer show off at this point; I quickly grabbed Shirley Yang's hand, and the militiamen above pulled on the rope, hauling both of us up.

Shirley Yang's face turned ashen: "You old Hu, this time it's dangerous—if it were just a few more seconds at night… I can't even say it; it's simply unimaginable."

I too took half a day to regain my senses, and toward Shirley Yang I felt both grateful and ashamed: "Damn, I almost went to see Marx, but having been through life and death a few times, loitering before the gates of the underworld has made me fearless. A few more seconds wouldn't matter—worst case, you pull me up and give me a few rounds of artificial respiration."

I was about to say a few more words when the vat suspended in mid‑air sent out another series of sounds, as if someone inside was pounding on the vat's wall, crying for help…

I was about to say a few more words when the "strange vat" hanging in midair emitted a series of sounds again, as if someone inside was pounding the vat wall, calling for help…