Chapter 157: Dead Man in Gold

This tomb chamber was nearly ten times larger in height and width than the wine burial chamber we had just seen. Four enormous pillars covered in reliefs stood in the four corners of the chamber. The floor was littered with piles of objects. As soon as the cold flare ignited, we saw that they were mountains of gold and silver vessels, gems and glass, pearls and jade. When we shone our flashlights on them, they glittered brilliantly, almost too dazzling to look at.

"My grandpa—" Fatty's eyes bulged bigger than a cow's, his face twisted.

I was also stunned, almost unable to stand. Panzi muttered, "What did I tell you? The Jurchen treasury, the Southern Song tribute—did I fucking lie?" Having been in this line of work for so long, all I had ever seen were scrap metal and junk. I thought I wouldn't escape that fate this time either, but I never imagined that inside this small, desolate, weak kingdom's imperial tomb there would be so many treasures. Could it really be, as Panzi said, that after the great Jin dynasty fell, all its treasures were hoarded here? This wasn't just about getting rich—take a few items out of here and you could live off them for a lifetime.

Fatty wanted to roll into the pile of gold and silver. I also felt the urge to go and roll in it, but I still had a shred of reason. I grabbed Fatty and told him not to get carried away. Many tombs have gold vessels sprayed with deadly poison; rolling in them and getting poisoned would be too stupid. Better not touch these things.

But even though I held Fatty back, I couldn't stop Panzi. He had already rushed into the gold pile and grabbed a handful of goldware, staring in amazement. The reflected golden light turned his face golden, and his whole body was trembling. Then he let go, and the objects fell through his fingers, making clinking metallic sounds.

I saw Panzi grab a few handfuls without any harm, so I knew the gold wasn't poisoned. Relieved, I couldn't help but go up and grab a handful myself. The heavy feeling almost made me laugh uncontrollably. I don't know who said it—that humanity's love for gold is written into our genes, an innate, irresistible instinct. He was damn right.

Even someone like me, though outwardly sanctimonious, felt a throb of excitement from deep inside at the sight of gold. I couldn't fool myself even if I tried—I like these things.

All of us immediately forgot everything else. We ran to one pile, scooped up handfuls of objects, then ran to another pile, taking out a headband studded with gems to examine closely. These were all genuine masterpieces—just one of them would be a museum's centerpiece. But here there were so many, and we could grab them randomly, even step on them, without feeling regret.

Fatty had already started stuffing things into his bag. He dumped out all his equipment and didn't want any of it, then crammed his bag full. When it was full, he thought it wasn't right, so he dumped everything out again and started stuffing other things instead, making meaningless noises as he packed.

But soon we all realized that no matter how much we packed, we couldn't take even a fraction of the treasure. As soon as we grabbed these, even better and more precious items would appear underneath. When we packed those, we'd discover genuine articles we'd never seen before. Suddenly it was impossible to decide what to take.

We went crazy for a long time until we were exhausted. Once we calmed down from the extreme excitement, I felt something was wrong. Why hadn't we heard Shunzi's voice since we entered?

I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead, stood up from the pile of jewels, and shone my flashlight around. I saw Shunzi standing on a pile of goldware, looking at something I couldn't identify.

I walked over and asked him what he was doing. Wasn't he excited about all this gold?

He didn't answer; instead he pointed downward. I shone my flashlight in the direction of his and discovered that in the middle of several gold piles, surrounded by countless treasures, several people were curled up, motionless, seemingly dead.

I was immediately startled. The excitement from before vanished in an instant, and I broke out in goosebumps.

Fatty and Panzi saw Shunzi and me standing there frozen, and thought we had found some more treasure. They ran over to look, but saw several corpses. They were also taken aback.

We stepped down into the depression among the gold piles, held our flashlights in reverse grip, and shone them carefully. We confirmed that these were dead people, dead for some time. Their skin had frozen and dehydrated into an orange-peel texture. Strangely, these people were wearing rotting woolen overcoats—modern clothing. Beside them were several old-fashioned military backpacks that had rotted to pieces.

Fatty asked in surprise, "What's going on? Who are these people? Our fellow diggers?" I shook my head, put on gloves, and rummaged through their backpacks and clothes. This style of clothing was popular in the 80s and 90s. Even now, middle-aged and older men in the northeastern countryside still wear it. We saw quite a few such old-timers in Yingshan Village. Judging by the degree of decomposition, they must have died here between five and twenty years ago.

Panzi asked, "Could they be herb gatherers or hunters from the Changbai Mountains who wandered in here by mistake and couldn't find their way out?"

"Not likely." I tore open one corpse's clothing. It was a female corpse. I also looked at her ears—she wore old-fashioned earrings, and there was a watch on her wrist that had long rusted to a stop. "Look, this is a Plum Blossom watch, an old model. Even people at the market level back then might not have been able to get one. This woman was no small fry—she doesn't look like a rural villager."

"Then could they be lost tourists from the 80s?" Panzi asked again. "The marks we've been following—did they carve them?"

I shook my head. It was impossible that they carved the marks, because I had seen those marks in the Underwater Tomb. They were definitely carved by someone connected—either A Ning's team or Poker-face. As for lost tourists, that was possible, but could someone really wander so far off as to end up in a place like this? The underground palace passageways—ordinary people wouldn't dare go down without considerable courage.

However, if this woman had some background—for instance, if she was the child of some leader or had connections with local officials—her disappearance might have caused a big stir locally. Shunzi is older, so he might have heard about it back then. I was about to turn and ask him if there had been any sensational missing person cases around here between five and twenty years ago.

I turned to look, but Shunzi hadn't followed us down. He was still standing on that gold pile, his expression very stiff.

I thought it was odd. Had Shunzi also been hit by a corpse fetus's tongue like Fatty? But I didn't see anything on his neck. He seemed to be trembling a little, and I sensed something was wrong.

Fatty said to him, "What's up? Scared of dead people? You weren't scared just now."

Shunzi ignored Fatty, walking down with heavy steps. He came to one of the corpses and crouched down. I saw that he was so nervous he almost fell over.

Suddenly I realized what was going on.

Fatty was about to pat him on the shoulder, but I stopped Fatty and waved my hand at him. Fatty asked softly, "What's with him? Possessed?"

I shook my head. These corpses, if I guessed correctly, were probably the team that Shunzi had mentioned to me—the one his father led into the Changbai Mountains ten years ago. And the corpse Shunzi was staring at now might be his father. That's why he was acting so tense.

Unexpectedly, his prediction had come true. Following us, he really could find his father's remains...