Chapter 111: Diary

The rock cave was about to collapse, and big and small stones were raining down on my head without any regard. Staying another second risked being buried alive under the rubble. Under these circumstances, having a path ahead was already a stroke of luck, so how could I worry about anything else? I grabbed him and yelled, "What do you mean we can't go in? If we don't go in, are we supposed to wait outside to die?"

Old Itch said, "We don't know the situation inside. Look first before deciding!"

I said to him, "I can't worry about that now. Look at the situation—even if it's a dragon's pool or tiger's den inside, we have to go." With that, I pulled him and crouched into the cave.

Old Itch stiffened his hand, refusing to let me pull him in, and said, "Please, just listen to me for once—this cave really cannot be entered!"

As he spoke, he tried to pull me back out. I was furious and was just about to ask if he wanted to die or what, when suddenly a boulder crashed down. I quickly let go, and we both fell backward. The stone thundered and landed between us, blocking the collapsed opening completely.

I was scared out of my wits and hurriedly yelled asking if he was okay. After a long while, I heard him groan and reply, "I'm fine. Damn it, got hit on the head. It's not collapsing anymore here. How about you?"

I told him I was fine too and casually pushed the rock. Seeing it didn't budge at all, I knew our way back was cut off. So I looked around. Originally I thought this was another cave in the rock face, with an exit on one side, but now I saw it was a closed space, very narrow, seemingly a natural crevice in the mountain. The scene somehow felt familiar.

Stumbling over broken stones, I crawled a few steps and suddenly realized that this was also a collapsed cave. But the collapse here was years old; everything that could fall had already fallen, and the ground was covered with rubble.

I had just been wondering how that giant snake could be so powerful, shattering hard rock with a few impacts. Now I realized that there had already been a collapse here before. That earlier incident must have severely damaged the surrounding rock layers. What looked like solid rock on the surface was already cracked inside; when the snake struck, it finally burst open, collapsing to form this passage.

I looked up and saw that this was a gap between two huge collapsed boulders. Judging by how tightly they fit, it should be very stable. Even though the impacts outside continued, only dust fell down here.

That giant snake seemed to have exhausted its strength; each impact was lighter than the last, until finally it quieted down.

Still shaken, I thought about how Old Itch had been pulling me. If I hadn't let go in time, I would have been crushed into a meat patty. I got furious and shouted from behind the rock, "What the hell kind of medicine did you take earlier? You nearly got me killed!"

Old Itch was blocked outside by the rock, unable to come in even if he wanted to. He said, "What do you mean I took the wrong medicine? Why don't you admit you're being stubborn? Look how things turned out—what do we do now?"

I moved a few stones and saw Old Itch's flashlight beam coming through the gaps. But the biggest rock was at least the size of an Eight Immortals table; the gaps between them were limited. I could stick my hand out, but I definitely couldn't squeeze my body through.

I knocked on the rock a few times, chipping off some white flakes. The rocks were of the same hardness, making it very strenuous. When Old Itch saw that the rubble above me was loosening again from my pounding, he quickly told me to stop, saying, "Take it easy. If you keep hitting, it will collapse again here."

I said, "Whether I stick my neck out or pull it back, it's still a knife. Either I die from a collapse or from starvation—why worry so much?"

Old Itch said, "Don't do that. We're not at the end of our rope yet. Look around first to see if there's anything unusual. If you find something, call me immediately."

I looked around. It was pitch black, and all I could see was rubble. I told him there was nothing inside.

After hearing that, he was silent for a moment, then asked, "Really nothing? Take another careful look."

I said, "Why would I lie to you? This place is only as big as a butt. If there were anything, I'd definitely see it."

Old Itch said, "Alright, take another careful look. I'll also go ahead and see if it's really blocked that tightly. Maybe there's a gap we can crawl out through."

With that, his flashlight beam moved away. I leaned against the rock to rest for a bit, then crawled into the crevice. Looking around, I knew there was no exit. The boulder above my head weighed several tons. Trapped here, it might be a year or half before I could get out.

I walked a little further inside but found no way forward. Just as I thought about turning back, I suddenly noticed something drawn on the rock wall. I quickly went over to look.

At first glance, I thought they were graffiti-like cave paintings, very primitive, possibly left by the ancient people who cast the bronze tree. But looking closer, I realized they weren't. The graffiti showed an airplane and a few English letters—these were the works of modern people.

Who would do such a thing in a place like this? I was very puzzled.

Half of the graffiti was buried under the rubble at my feet. I moved the stones to see what was drawn. After moving a large rock, a clump of black tattered cloth appeared, seemingly a piece of clothing.

I pulled away the cloth, and a withered, decayed human hand with bones exposed suddenly came into view. The hand was claw-like, as if it had tried to crawl out from under the rubble but died from exhaustion.

I was startled, almost screaming. I thought to myself, how could a dead person be buried here? Could it be that he was buried alive when the cave collapsed? And who was this person? I continued moving the stones, and soon a corpse was revealed. The body was completely decomposed, apparently buried here for some years. The clothes were torn into shreds, and from the fabric I couldn't tell what color they originally were. But judging by the amulet hanging around his neck, this person was probably like us—a grave robber.

I recalled the corpse I saw underwater at the waterfall, which was similarly decomposed. So these two might have been a team. Truly, humans die for wealth, birds die for food. Perhaps these two were my fate.

I kept digging and unearthed the entire corpse. I also found a backpack, decayed beyond recognition. It was nearly empty, with only some black residue—unidentifiable decomposed matter. I turned it over, and from a hidden pocket a notebook fell out.

The notebook was also falling apart, but luckily the paper quality was good. The words written in blue ballpoint pen were still clear. I picked it up and looked. The front part had an account journal, some geographic locations, and phone numbers. I flipped to the back and suddenly froze. There were some diary entries. Judging by the date of the first entry, it seemed to have started three years ago. This person's handwriting was childish, and he probably wasn't good at writing; each entry was only about a hundred characters. I quickly flipped through a few pages, and they sent chills down my spine.

From the diary entries, this person should have arrived here three years ago. The diary didn't record the process of his arrival, but started from the point when he was trapped in this cave. However, in later content, he occasionally mentioned his experiences before entering.

Their group should have been eighteen in total, because in one entry, he mentioned: "Of the eighteen, only I am left." It also mentioned that they didn't enter by our route, but from a huge tree hole in the banyan forest at the mountaintop, which was wrapped by aerial roots.

At that time, we had also passed by that banyan forest, but the locals said it was haunted—once you went in, you couldn't come out. We were in a hurry and didn't bother with that mess. Little did we expect that there was such a big secret inside. If I had known earlier, we wouldn't have gone through so much trouble.

But reading on, I couldn't help feeling lucky that we didn't take that route. Because the diary recorded that the path they took down was extremely dangerous. Eighteen people went in, but when they came out from the bottom, only six remained—the rest all died on the way.

I estimated that the tree hole should be on one of those ancient banyan trees in the middle of the forest that couldn't be encircled by a dozen people. But with banyan trees, one tree can become a forest, so it's hard to say whether that forest was made of several trees or just one. After these people came down, it should have been the opposite of us—we climbed straight up from the bottom, while they must have landed directly on the top.

Their route should have followed the customs of the ritual ceremony, so the path they took should be the main entrance.

To my surprise, he also said that after they found nothing on the altar platform, they followed the surrounding plank road downwards. At the bottom of the plank road, it was completely flooded, like a very deep pool of emerald green water with no bottom visible.

They jumped into the pool and found it extremely deep—impossible to dive without equipment. The diving gear they brought was too small, so after a try, they had to give up. When the six of them surfaced, they were dumbfounded.

It turned out that while they were diving, the water level had dropped drastically. By the time they came out, the plank road where they had left their equipment was now six or seven meters away from them. They hadn't expected that; all their ropes were in their bags, not on them, and they immediately panicked.

The water level dropped rapidly. Some of them climbed onto the bronze tree, and some ran into a cave revealed in the rock face. The owner of this diary entered the cavern I was in at that moment, but unfortunately, not long after he entered, a giant python coiled out of the water like a black dragon and chased straight up the bronze tree. He only heard the screams and gunshots of his companions and was so scared that he hid in the cave, not daring to go out.

This disaster caught them off guard. His companions were all desperadoes. One of them, while fighting the giant python, activated the explosives before dying. They had prepared explosives to blast open the mountain and the tomb, so there was a large amount. The explosion was earth-shattering, and even the cave where he was hiding collapsed from the shockwave.

The diary owner was knocked unconscious by the blast. When he woke up, he found himself trapped. He figured that with such a violent explosion, no one outside could have survived (in fact, there was one survivor, who died at the waterfall). He had come to rob the tomb without any specific goal, so it was impossible to hope for rescue. For a moment, he was disheartened.

The following content started to get a bit boring.

He was trapped in the crevice for seven days. He didn't bring much food, and it was soon consumed. He was thirsty and hungry, and the batteries died. In total darkness, he knew his end was near. Thinking of his old mother with no one to care for her, he was overcome with unbearable pain.

In the following days, he was delirious from hunger. One day he woke up, not knowing what time it was, feeling extreme thirst. In a daze, he picked up his long-dry canteen and took a few gulps. At that moment, a miracle occurred: sweet, clear water suddenly gushed out from the canteen. He didn't know what was happening, and greedily drank for over ten minutes, but the water didn't decrease at all.

He thought it was a dream, telling himself he must be about to die and having hallucinations. He figured he might as well die like this. Then he thought that since it was a dream, there might be food in his bag. He reached in, and sure enough, the bags that originally held food were all full. Overjoyed, he ate ravenously, almost choking to death.

Gradually, he realized this wasn't a dream. At first, he thought God had manifested to save him, but then he felt more and more that something was wrong. Finally, he discovered that all this was somehow connected to his thoughts, but it wasn't omnipotent. For example, when he desperately wanted to eat something specific, it wouldn't appear. But when he casually reached into his bag for food, he would often find his favorite snacks, even though the bag was empty.

He began to consciously analyze and conduct mental experiments. Gradually, he discovered his ability to materialize things. He wrote a lot about this section; the experimental process was very complex. In the end, he didn't draw a conclusion about the materialization ability but instead believed he had become a "dazed god."

Those graffiti on the stones were drawn during this time, probably when he was extremely bored and doodling for fun.

At the end of the diary, he wrote that he would use this ability to try to get out. If successful, he could go out and become a superman; if he failed, he would die here. I don't know what experiment he finally conducted, but as it seems now, he ultimately failed.

However, whether someone with such an ability coming into real society is a good thing or a bad thing, I don't know.

Looking at this corpse and thinking of my own situation, I couldn't help but feel a chill. I had no food with me; I probably couldn't even last seven days. Besides, even if I had food, being trapped here endlessly would be worse than dying quickly.

I put down the diary and searched the corpse's pockets. I found a phone, long dead, and tossed it aside. Then I found a wallet with some money. I thought, everything rots, but not RMB. What a joke.

There was also an ID card in the wallet. I pulled it out to see the name of this unlucky guy. Shining my flashlight on it, the photo was already blurred, but the name was still clear: "Xie Ziyang."

This surname is quite rare. Xie Lianhuan, who died in the "Underwater Tomb," also had this surname. I looked at the person's birthdate; he was quite young. What a pity.

Suddenly, a flashlight beam flashed from behind. Lao Yang had crawled back and asked me from behind a rock, "Old Wu! What are you looking at!"