Chapter 104: Old Tricks

Normally, it wouldn't be difficult to see the statue's face, but we were looking up from below, and no matter where we went, the angle still made it unclear. I felt frustrated, and my sense of unease about the statue grew stronger.

Boss Wang probably felt the same way—the more he wanted to see, the less he could, and his face turned pale with anxiety. We tried several spots without satisfaction. Finally, we decided to first climb over the collapsed plank road. The rock face here was covered with tree roots, so climbing wouldn't be too hard. Besides, there were several layers of plank road below, so even if we fell, we wouldn't die—nothing to worry about.

We returned to the edge of the collapsed plank road. Boss Wang checked the sturdiness of the dangling roots, hooked his multi-tool pick, and nimbly climbed up the cliff. I shone my flashlight for him while cursing him to fall, but unfortunately, his agility didn't match his build—in no time, he had crossed to the other side and jumped onto the plank road.

He turned back, tossed the multi-tool pick to me, and then ran ahead on his own, probably eager to see what was up there. I turned on my headlamp, imitated his method of climbing the cliff, holding the pick in one hand and feeling for roots with the other. These things must have grown for who knows how many years—they felt as hard as stone, seemingly lifeless. The patterns on them looked like animal scales; if one's eyesight were poor, they'd definitely mistake them for fossils of some ancient creature.

I climbed carefully, making slow progress. When I was halfway across, I heard Boss Wang shout: "Hurry over here—I can see more clearly. That clump of tree roots seems to hold more than... one statue. I can't tell what exactly is carved."

Hearing his words, I gritted my teeth and used both hands and feet, finally grabbing a root and swinging to the other side. I followed the beam of his flashlight and saw that he had already climbed three levels of the plank road and was holding binoculars, examining the situation near the bronze tree. I looked where he was looking; due to the change in angle, I could indeed see some things wrapped in the tree roots, but what exactly they were remained blurry.

Gasping for breath, I caught up and took his binoculars. Only then did I see clearly: inside the massive python-like clump of roots, many rusty bronze arms were exposed. Judging by the number, there were at least four statues, standing in four directions. Based on the exposed parts, I couldn't determine whether they were the same shape. The rest was deeply buried in the roots. Judging by eye, they were quite large—about the same size as the stone one we saw on the cliff.

The "great benefit" Old Yang mentioned couldn't be these terrifying roots, so it must be something inside them. But even if these statues were immensely valuable, we couldn't take them away. There must be something else we didn't know about on the other side—staying here would never reveal it. We had to cross over.

We continued up the plank road. As we neared the upper end of the cave, the distance between the cliff and the bronze tree gradually narrowed, and we could see more clearly. At the top of the bronze tree, there should have been a circular sacrificial platform with four bronze statues facing the four directions. We had thought that by changing our angle we could see the statues' true faces, but the higher we went, the more disappointed we became—their bodies and faces were tightly wrapped in roots. To see clearly, we would have to cut those roots, which seemed unlikely.

When we reached a spot on the plank road roughly level with the sacrificial platform, Boss Wang stopped and looked for a moment, then said to me: "These four statues stand at the four corners, so there must be something in the center. If we still had our gear, we could climb a bit higher and shine a spotlight to see clearly. But we lost it all in the waterfall. No choice, youngster—we have to go over there." With that, he folded back the bladed end of his multi-tool pick, hooked out the claw, tied it to a rope to make a grappling hook, swung it a few times like a Western cowboy, and threw it out.

The pick flew in an arc, hooked onto a root beside the sacrificial platform on the other side, wrapped around it a few times, and caught back onto the rope. Boss Wang pulled it tight, making the root shake. Many strange gray insects were startled from the crevices in the roots and scurried away in all directions, moving fast.

Boss Wang frowned and said, "Youngster, this time you go first!"

I knew he was wary of those insects. I cursed silently, judged the distance—much shorter than when we climbed earlier, so it shouldn't be a problem—and nodded, climbing onto the rope.

After just a few steps, I couldn't help admiring Boss Wang—he had thrown the rope perfectly. The two ends formed about a sixty-degree downward angle. As long as I clamped my legs around the rope, I would naturally slide to the other side without any effort. I swung across and soon landed on the roots of the sacrificial platform, immediately grabbing hold of the roots to steady myself.

Boss Wang gestured for me to scout the situation first. I turned back and saw that the gray insects were not Chi Gu but rather a type of insect resembling cicada larvae. There were quite a few of them, but they shouldn't be dangerous. I shooed them away and made a gesture to Boss Wang on the other side. He shone his flashlight around me, confirmed there were no more insects, and then climbed onto the rope.

At that moment, I suddenly felt like untying the rope and letting him fall. But then I thought, no—it would be a shame to lose his backpack. No matter what, I had to get his gear. While I was thinking, Boss Wang had already slid over and landed beside me, so the chance to harm him was lost.

The tree roots here were almost as thick as two or three of my thighs, intertwined together. Where they touched, they had fused; where they didn't, they left hollow gaps. Over time, the fused parts grew more numerous, and the hollow gaps inside became a labyrinth. This was common in banyan forests—where there were large banyan trees, even entire groves stuck together, with tree holes connected to one another. Once you went in, you couldn't get out—more sinister than a haunted forest.

We grabbed the roots and circled around, finding that the years had been too long—the coverage was complete, and we couldn't see what was underneath. The roots were too tough to cut. We didn't know what to do. After a moment, Boss Wang said that maybe we could see through the gaps between these roots. We should search separately, shine the light into each hole, and we'd surely find something.

I thought to myself, it's so thickly covered, that's unlikely, but he wasn't in the mood to discuss—he just waved for me to get to it.

I vaguely felt that this man was very brutal, somewhat like the Fatty I used to know. I wondered if they were related. But my Fatty was much more lovable and straightforward; this guy was too sinister, even though he smiled on the surface.

The roots were piled here like a burial mound. When I shone my flashlight into the hollow gaps, the light didn't reach the bottom. We worked for a long time, sweating profusely, and still saw nothing. I even twisted my waist, and the pain made me break out in a cold sweat.

Neither of us knew what to do. Boss Wang looked at me and suddenly cursed: "Son of a bitch, that bastard Li Pipa set me up?"

I muttered to myself, if there's nothing here, why did Old Yang emphasize it so much? He wouldn't play such a boring joke. The problem must be with us—what went wrong? What did we overlook? Neither of us spoke, just quietly thinking. I thought about the lies Old Yang told me along the way. Whatever his motives, they were meant to lead me here. But now that I was here, I saw nothing. And that so-called benefit he couldn't tell me about, and which I wouldn't do even if I knew—what was it? I still had no clue.

Just as I was lost in thought, Boss Wang suddenly pushed me. I turned to speak, but he made a gesture to be quiet.

I wondered what he was doing. He waved his hand, carefully pulled me down to crouch, and listened intently to the tree roots.

I immediately held my breath and strained my ears. There was no wind in this silent cave. Pressed against the roots, I clearly heard a faint, rhythmic "tick... tick... tick" from inside, like someone's teeth chattering from the cold.

The sound was soft—easy to miss if you weren't paying attention. It had a rhythmic pattern, completely different from the sound of a blood corpse, and not like the noise of insects crawling inside the tree trunk.

Boss Wang whispered: "Each interval between the sounds is the same, like a monk knocking a wooden fish. It could be the sound of some mechanism working. There really is something inside, but I don't know if it's alive or dead."

I broke out in a cold sweat. Could there really be someone grinding their teeth inside these thousand-year-old tree roots? Were we dealing with a tree demon? Just as I was about to speak, Boss Wang pursed his lips, shook his head, cocked his rifle, and motioned for me to follow. He tiptoed toward the sound. We stopped beside a banyan root hole, and found the sound was coming from there. Boss Wang shone his flashlight into the hole, and the sound abruptly stopped.

He glanced at me and whispered: "That's right, this must be the place. What your friend and the *He Mu Ji* mentioned is inside here. We might have to enter from here." I frowned and said: "The root system inside is very complex—far more so than the cave systems in these karst formations. And we don't know if this bronze pillar is hollow. Going in rashly could be dangerous."

He nodded and said: "I know. That's why we won't go in together. One of us will go down first to scout."

My heart skipped a beat. I thought, you're not going to make me go in, are you?

Boss Wang saw me hesitate. He raised his short rifle and said softly: "I'm too fat. You go down first, and I'll follow behind to cover you. Don't worry, nothing will go wrong." With that, he pushed me toward the hole.

I looked down into the darkness below, then turned back to see his stern face, his expression grim and sullen. I gritted my teeth, put on my headlamp again, and once more played the role of the pathfinder. Just as I was about to enter, Boss Wang called me back and handed me a small walkie-talkie. He said: "If it's deep, use this. Go on, youngster—you've got a future."

I thought to myself, with something this good, why didn't you bring it out earlier? I took it, first familiarizing myself with how to use it, then put it in my pocket and said, "Boss Wang, let's not beat around the bush—I'm risking my life for you. You've got to give me some kind of weapon. If I end up dead inside there, you're out of luck too, right? If you won't give me a gun, at least give me a cold weapon?"

Boss Wang gave me a wary look, probably thinking what I said made some sense. Reluctantly, he pulled a small dagger from his boot and tossed it to me, while immediately pointing his gun at me and laughing, "See, I'm forgetful—I just forgot about it."

I caught the dagger and saw it was one of those long-handled hunting knives, used specifically for skinning. I figured having something was better than nothing, cursed under my breath, ducked my head, and crawled into the hole. A musty smell hit me, so I put on the gas mask I'd asked for and continued crawling inward.

Inside was very damp. The surface of the tree roots was completely different from outside—very soft, with many unknown mushrooms growing on them. A lot of cicada larvae, startled by me, began to scatter. I crawled a bit further and froze—up ahead were several forks. Which one should I take?

Looking closely, one of the forks had a mark on it, probably drawn by someone before. I didn't know if it was Old Yang or someone else. Forget it—I crawled toward that marked fork. After advancing a few more meters, the space suddenly opened up, and my upper body was already hanging out.

With my upper body dangling out of the opening, I aimed the headlamp and shone it around. This was a small, low cavity, tangled and twisted with roots everywhere. To put it plainly, this was just a spot within the whole root mass where the roots were a bit sparser. Just as I was wondering why this was the case, I suddenly saw a corner of a stone slab sticking out from among the roots.

Looking closer, it turned out to be a huge stone outer coffin. There was a coffin platform underneath it, now completely wrapped up. Judging from the distance I'd just crawled, this should be the center of the sacrificial platform—this was what we were looking for.

I crawled on all fours to the edge of the exposed stone outer coffin and got a clear look. This thing was unusually large, almost like a miniature shipping container. On the edge of the coffin lid, just like on the bronze tree, there was a ring of cloud-and-thunder patterns carved in intaglio. The rest was almost fused with the tree roots, so I couldn't tell what relief carvings were on it.

Boss Wang shouted twice from outside. I was too stunned by what I saw to answer him. Thinking I'd climbed down into the bronze tree, he asked over the walkie-talkie, "Kid, what's in there?"

"There's a coffin!" I said, while trying to find a spot where I could at least sit up. Crawling was too uncomfortable.

"A coffin? Can you tell whose it is?"

I cursed, "How would I know? But getting this outer coffin here couldn't have been easy. With all this trouble, the person lying inside might be the one who cast this bronze tree." Putting his own coffin here—probably wanting to be closer to the heavenly palace when he ascended. I had no idea who this person was, to have such a grand ambition.

Just then, I noticed that the lid of the outer coffin wasn't sealed tightly against the body. A section of tree root had grown through the gap, lifting the lid a bit. I found it strange and let out a "Huh."

Boss Wang heard and got nervous, immediately asking, "What's the matter?"

"This coffin… the lid isn't closed properly," I said, crawling toward the gap. Could it be that the outer coffin wasn't sealed well during encoffining, letting the roots grow in?

I thought it over and figured that wasn't likely. Maybe fine root tips had grown under the lid and thickened over time, lifting it. These roots ran in all directions—for all I knew, they might have already filled the entire coffin. The surface layer was so hard that even if our tools could cut through it, who knew how long it'd take to dig it out.

I crawled to the edge of the gap and shone the headlamp inside. It seemed completely empty inside—a gray, hazy expanse. The light seemed to get absorbed by something, illuminating nothing.

In all my experience with archaeology, lifting the inner coffin out of the outer coffin is the most troublesome part. In standard setups, the inner coffin walls press right against the outer coffin walls, leaving at most a centimeter of clearance. But this one went against the trend, with a considerable empty space inside—very strange. No idea what the significance was. By the Western Zhou period, burial customs were already fairly mature. Even kings and nobles wouldn't use such an absurd burial method. It seemed what Master Liang said was right—this should be the royal tomb of a minority group from that time, and their kingdom seemed pretty powerful, at least on par with the Western Zhou dynasty.

I picked up the walkie-talkie and said, "This outer coffin is empty inside. Not sure what's in it. My headlamp isn't as bright as your flashlight—it's too dark. You can come in now; it's safe here." As I spoke, I was already crawling back toward the hole I'd come out of, thinking to myself, as soon as you stick your head out, I'll grab you and see what you do then.

The walkie-talkie emitted a few crackles of static, and then some sounds came through, but I couldn't make them out clearly.

"What?" I asked. After a few more bursts of static, some strange noises came through the walkie-talkie—very chaotic, completely unintelligible.

"What?" I called out again impatiently.