Chapter 133: Kunlun Fetus

The sun gradually sank to the west, with only a sliver still peeking above the clouds, and the entire sheet of ice had slowly turned black, the huge shadow inside blurred and indistinct.

The shape of the shadow was incredibly strange, grotesque and utterly eerie—like the frozen fetus of some animal, with an absurdly large head and long spikes all over its body, giving anyone who looked at it the creeps.

Ye Cheng gaped at me and asked, "Damn it, we didn't bow to the Buddha before coming out, and we keep running into evil. What the hell is that thing?" Fatty and I shook our heads; we had never seen anything like it either. Judging by its size, it was as big as a five-story building, frozen deep in the glacier. If it was a burial annex, how could it have been built inside? Or could it be some prehistoric creature?

Legend has it that the Changbai Mountain area was still a vast ocean hundreds of thousands of years ago, and only rose from the sea due to the eruption of the main volcanic body. Could something this huge be the corpse of a giant marine creature from that time? That didn't seem right either—when the ancient glacier formed, the mountain was already there; any corpse would have long since turned into a fossil.

Although we had just experienced a heart-stopping avalanche, to be honest, it was really just a snow slide with no thunderous force, and it passed quickly. Everyone was still shaken, but they had recovered by now, and seeing the shadow in the ice stirred up their curiosity.

We used ice pitons to create footholds on the glacier, roped up, put on crampons, and descended to the surface of the ice to get a closer look at the eerie black shadow frozen inside. But no matter how hard we looked, we couldn't figure out what it was.

By then, Chenpi A'si had regained consciousness. Monk Hua and Ye Cheng helped him down as well, and we carefully supported him to the spot.

Chenpi A'si's reactions were still slow. He rubbed his eyes, crouched down, stared at the shadow under the ice cap for a long time, and suddenly let out an "Hmm": "This shadow... could it be a 'Kunlun Fetus'?" Then he shook his head.

"What's a 'Kunlun Fetus'?" None of us had ever heard of it. Seeing him so agitated, we were completely baffled.

Monk Hua explained, "'Kunlun Fetus' is a strange natural phenomenon. It refers to the source of a dragon vein—what people call the place where the earth's spiritual energy gathers. Often, inside rocks, glaciers, or trees, some strange baby-like things will spontaneously form. In ancient texts, these are called 'earth-born fetuses.' Legend says that after ten thousand years of evolution, some 'earth-born fetuses' become spirits, like Sun Wukong in Journey to the West. I remember reading in a Tang Dynasty notebook that at the end of the Western Han, it was said that under a giant ice basin in the Kunlun Mountains, local Tibetans discovered a giant ice fetus as big as a mountain basin, with all five senses already formed—a female baby, lifelike. So 'earth-born fetus' was called 'Kunlun Fetus.' Later, a temple was built on the baby's navel, called the Kunlun Child Temple. In feng shui, 'Kunlun Fetus' is a heaven-ordained treasure acupoint, different from man-made feng shui positions. It's impossible to predict where on a dragon vein a Kunlun Fetus might form; you can only discover it by chance once it starts taking shape, then dig out the fetal form and build a tomb inside it. Such a treasure acupoint can only be encountered, not sought. Legend says only those who can communicate with heaven are worthy. The only person recorded in history to be buried in a Kunlun Fetus position is the Yellow Emperor."

"There's such a sinister thing?" Fatty crouched down and looked at the shadow. "But this 'Kunlun Fetus' doesn't look like a human fetus."

Chenpi A'si didn't seem certain either, nodding, "I'm just guessing. A Kunlun Fetus is a divinely placed womb, an earth-born divine thing. If this is a Kunlun Fetus, then the burial annex must have been built inside the Kunlun Fetus position. But if that's the case..." He looked at the distant Three Saints Snow Mountain, his eyes filled with extreme confusion.

I understood his concern and added, "This is a natural treasure acupoint, the 'Kunlun Fetus position,' but it's only a burial annex. So the main tomb of the Cloud Summit Palace on Three Saints Mountain—how good must its feng shui be? It can't be worse than the Kunlun Fetus."

"Right, there's no feng shui better than the Kunlun Fetus. The Kunlun Fetus is where the earth's spiritual energy converges. If there were a place better than this, there's only one possibility," Chenpi A'si said with a puzzled sigh. "The Heavenly Palace really was built in the sky!"

Chenpi A'si said this with such a sincere expression that I could tell he wasn't joking. His words sent a chill down my spine. Fatty said, "How is that possible!"

"It's impossible, so there's definitely something wrong with a Kunlun Fetus appearing here. Could the mountain and river layout have been altered? Was Wang Zanghai really that divine?" Chenpi A'si looked around at the surrounding mountain terrain again.

"No, we shouldn't think that way." A sudden idea struck me, and I asked, "Could it be that this fetus-shaped shadow is fake—man-made? A symbolic technique, very common in ancient tomb design. For example, Wu Zetian's city shape was like a woman's vulva. Maybe this shadow is just the shadow of the burial annex."

I had this idea naturally, because as antique dealers, our daily work involves fighting fakes. Whenever we source items, our first instinct is that they're fake. So when I heard Chenpi A'si describe this thing as so extraordinary, my first impression was: could it be faked? It's an occupational hazard.

Besides, freezing the entrance of a tomb in ice and shaping it like an infant fits Wang Zanghai's style of never being satisfied unless he creates something shocking.

Chenpi A'si was completely focused on the surrounding mountain ranges and didn't hear me at all. I turned to look at Poker-face, who also looked puzzled, staring at the shadow with a complicated expression, silent. However, Monk Hua agreed with me (apparently he was also on the front line of procurement, with the same occupational hazard as me). He said, "What you said is possible. Look at this 'fetal shadow'—it has shades of light and dark, obviously not a single entity; there seem to be high and low parts, and spikes around it, hard to explain. It might really be a building." I felt a strange sensation inside me. If Wang Zanghai built the tomb in the shape of a fetus, could it be that he wanted this tomb to become a spirit like the Kunlun Fetus?

If this were true, it would be utterly mind-boggling.

Fatty said, "Let's stop guessing. Unless we dig it out, it's all just speculation. Instead of wasting time, let's think of a way to get down there." "But what if we dig down and find not a burial annex, but a real giant ice—" Ye Cheng was a bit scared, his teeth chattering, "What then?"

Fatty patted him: "Then you stay up here. We'll go down to confirm and call you down."

I added, "If it really is an ice fetus, that would be a miracle of nature. It would be worth it to see it even once."

Monk Hua patted Ye Cheng and said, "You're such a coward. Learn from these brothers... The issue now isn't whether to go, but how to get down." He estimated the thickness of the ice and said, "Using picks, we wouldn't reach there in half a month."

We weren't ice diggers. Working on ice is completely different from working on ordinary ground; you have to consider many factors. Even with good skills, it's useless here.

Fatty stared at the huge shadow in the glacier beneath our feet, waved his hand at us, and said, "What's so hard about this? Leave it to me, Fatty."

Seeing that he seemed to have some idea, I was curious. In the team, Fatty always played the role of the vanguard and rarely offered technical opinions. But when he did, his suggestions were crucial, showing that he actually had a very meticulous mind. I had deeply felt this in the underwater tomb. However, dealing with Fatty required skill—he was the type who couldn't be swayed by soft or hard tactics. Most of the time, provoking him worked better than flattering him. So I said to him, "What can you do?" He took the bait and frowned at me, "What do you mean? Only you college grads have ideas? I've been to the Kunlun Mountains. There's a lot of ice there—much thicker glaciers than this. I've got way more experience than you."

I smiled and said, "Then tell us."

Fatty snorted and told us a story his guide had once told him about ice. The Kunlun Mountains are much higher than here, a true high-altitude glacier. There, large ice crevasses often crack open due to temperature changes and mountain movements. Sometimes ancient remains of primitive tribes are found in the cracks, and some people have even discovered houses frozen deep in the glacier. But these things are always collapsed, just ruins.

He had asked why these ancient remains couldn't be preserved in such a cold environment. The guide told him that it was impossible for a building to be completely frozen in ice—especially wooden structures. When an ice avalanche or snow avalanche hit, they would definitely collapse first.

The building in the glacier beneath our feet must have been built on a cliff. The black shadow inside looked so complete, its outline resembling a baby, indicating no signs of collapse. Otherwise, a suspended building would be utterly deformed if it fell. So, unless what's in the glacier isn't a burial annex but a rock, the burial annex being frozen in ice couldn't have been caused by an avalanche—it must have been man-made.

Fatty's reasoning was very sound. I nodded in agreement. But the others didn't see the significance of his hypothesis. Panzi asked him, "So what if it is?"

Fatty waved his hand and said, "If it wasn't an avalanche, then the tomb was built over 900 years ago. Logically, 900 years of accumulated snow and ice couldn't be this thick. So the ice must be man-made. Under our feet is definitely a very thick artificial ice wall. That ice wall couldn't have been pressed directly onto the building; there must be a curve, forming a natural ice dome pressing down on the slope, protecting the building below. It's like an ice burial mound. The ice isn't as thick as we think. Look, the transparency of the ice here is quite good, which is another piece of evidence." As soon as Fatty said this, everyone was startled, looking at him with newfound respect. At the same time, they suddenly felt a lot less stable underfoot.

Fatty was still annoyed that I had underestimated him earlier, and since he knew I studied architecture, he asked me if his idea was even possible. I nodded, saying it was theoretically sound and feasible. Using ice to build structures has been around for a long time; during the Three Kingdoms period, Cao Cao built his "One Night City" using ice and straw, and the Eskimos have long used ice for their homes. Recently, modern ice buildings have appeared in Denmark, proving that ice's hardness is definitely adequate in architecture. However, Cao Cao's city was built on flat ground—could such a magnificent ice dome really be constructed on a cliff face? I had some reservations. After all, over a thousand years ago, even if Wang Zanghai was far ahead of his time, he couldn't have been that impressive.

Hearing that I agreed with him, Fatty immediately grew cocky, tossed his hair, and said, "See? That's what your daddy here calls talent."

Ye Cheng asked me, "Young Master Wu, based on architecture, can you estimate the possible thickness of this ice dome?"

I had forgotten most of what I learned in college, but I still knew the weight of ice per unit volume. I did some mental calculations, plugged in a few formulas, and came up with a number. I told him, "If Fatty's right and there's a wooden support structure underneath, the ice layer beneath our feet can't be more than ten meters thick. Any thicker, and the weight would be too much, causing it to collapse on its own—nothing could hold it up."

"Ten meters?" Everyone exchanged looks. Panzi said, "Damn, that's still tough. This ice is different from elsewhere—much harder. We don't have professional equipment. Earlier, Lang Feng and I tried smashing an icicle with a shovel. After a few hits, our hands went numb, and all we got were a few white marks. Drilling through ten meters would take a while—maybe even a week wouldn't be enough."

Gravity ice is different from ice on riverbeds. Riverbed ice comes from river water, contains impurities and many air bubbles, and the temperature there isn't that low. But gravity ice is formed by layers of thousand-year-old snow compacted together. Not only does it have few impurities, but the temperature of the ice beneath the snow layers can be as low as minus 50 degrees Celsius. At that temperature and purity, the hardness and density of the ice are terrifying.

Fatty said, "We have explosives, don't we? How about we climb up onto the rocks and set off a blast?"

Monk Hua and I immediately shook our heads. I was still annoyed about nearly dying in the snow earlier and said crossly, "You really don't learn, do you? Haven't you had enough of that? Besides, if the glacier is indeed hollow, even a small explosion could shatter the entire ice dome. If your hypothesis is correct, we can't consider any method of making a hole that causes too much damage. When we get to critical parts, we might not even be able to use an ice pick. If we mess up, it could trigger a chain reaction."

Fatty was very dismissive of theoretical science. "That's textbook pedantry. Can't even use an ice pick? Then what? Dig with a spoon? Don't go scaremongering just because you're a college graduate, creating problems for us."

I said I was even more anxious than him, but facts are facts. Anyone who doesn't believe me can try it themselves.

Just as we solved one problem, another came up. The atmosphere grew heavy again. No one spoke, all of us trying to think of a solution. While we were hesitating, Poker-face walked over carrying Shunzi's smokeless stove used for boiling tea, and set it down on the ice. The hot stove instantly reacted with the freezing ice, making crackling sounds. He asked me, "Will this work?"

I looked and thought, Damn, of course! We were all freezing our asses off and didn't think of this. Why not use fire?

Ice hardness is directly related to temperature. As the temperature rises, the hardness decreases, making the ice surface brittle. The chain reaction from ice pick strikes would weaken. We could work step by step: first soften the surface ice with heat, then knock off whole chunks, exposing the colder, denser ice core beneath. Then we keep using the smokeless stove to heat it, repeating until we break through.

Practice is the sole criterion for testing truth. We immediately experimented, pulling out our own smokeless stoves, lighting them, and placing them on the ice. After a minute, we used a shovel to scrape the ice. Sure enough, the books were right—the softened, high-temperature ice cracked off in whole sheets.

However, because the surrounding temperature was so low, progress was very slow. We took turns trying. After nearly three hours, when it was almost completely dark, we had managed to carve out a depression half a meter wide and seven meters deep. The color of the ice below had clearly changed, and its purity was much clearer. It was already certain that Fatty was half-right—this ice was definitely not naturally formed.

Fatty, with a rope tied around his waist and his feet braced on both sides of the ice shaft, heated the bottom of the shaft with the smokeless stove one last time, then struck it with a short-handled hammer, trying to knock off another chunk. Unexpectedly, with a "crack," a fissure opened in the ice dome. Suddenly, we felt the outside air rushing toward the hole, stirring up a breeze, and the temperature dropped significantly.

Fatty struck again, smashing the ice below. The broken ice fell away, and sure enough, a hole appeared—it was hollow underneath!

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Even Fatty was surprised, exclaiming, "I actually guessed right!"

We hauled him up, all of us gathered around the hole, and eagerly shone our flashlights inside.

Inside the ice shaft was a vast, gray space. The entire ice dome was like a transparent bowl placed upside down over a cliff face. Countless wooden beams, covered in icicles, rose from the cliff's rock face, interlocking to form a scaffold-like structure supporting the "ice bowl" outside. These were the spines of the shadow-shaped fetus. Below the cliff was an unfathomable, pitch-black abyss.

About a hundred meters down the cliff face, we saw the true form of that black shadow-fetus. It was a huge fetal-shaped cave, whether man-made or natural. The entrance was as large as a standard swimming pool. At first glance, it looked exactly like a giant black infant.

We were stunned, almost speechless. Fatty, sharp-eyed, grabbed my flashlight and aimed it in a direction. "Look here!"

Following his lead, we squinted and looked carefully. Only then did we see that inside the cave, there was actually a magnificent palace with overhanging eaves and flying beams. Part of the palace protruded from the cave entrance, supported by wooden galleries on the cliff face, like an airborne pavilion. Most of the palace was built inside the cave and couldn't be seen in full.

Because of the constant low temperature, ice crystals had condensed everywhere, making the exposed part of the palace look gray and indistinct, so it wasn't easy to spot at first glance.

This was the spirit palace of the accompanying tomb, what grave robbers often called the "Dragon Tower and Treasure Hall"—the "tomb" part of the burial site. The actual grave holding the tomb owner's body should be beneath this spirit palace, inside the mountain.

I couldn't help but marvel. I had thought there might only be a hidden underground entrance here, but I never expected the Ten Thousand Slave King to put on such a grand display, even setting up such a massive spirit palace for the accompanying tomb. If the Cloud Summit Palace hadn't been buried under heavy snow, how magnificent a sight would it have been? Truly unimaginable. The wisdom of the ancients is awe-inspiring.

Fatty was the first to react, bursting into laughter. Then everyone else joined in, high-fiving each other in celebration. Fatty bumped into me with his hip, nearly making me slide off the ice.

Monk Hua quickly stopped us, pointing at the snowy cliff above, warning that another collapse could happen. Then not a single one of us, all standing on the ice cliff, would escape.

We forced ourselves to suppress our excitement and quiet down, but the faces of everyone were filled with barely contained ecstasy.

Thinking about it now, grave robbers—even the most notorious ones—how many have ever managed to rob a royal tomb of this caliber? If you can enter a royal tomb once and come out alive, you wouldn't even care about the treasures inside. Just the prestige alone would be immense. Not to mention how many years you could brag about it, but your own mindset would definitely change. Such allure is irresistible. Even I, who still didn't consider myself a grave robber, felt an overwhelming urge surge inside me, impatient to go down and see for myself.

Monk Hua slapped his own face to calm down, then turned to ask Chenpi A'si whether we should go down now or wait until tomorrow.

Chenpi A'si gave us a sinister look and asked, "Going down tomorrow—can you hold yourselves back?"