Chapter 180: Unacceptable Truth

When he flipped open the hidden door just now and came face to face with this thing, it was only about half a second, and with that scare, he couldn't carefully examine the thing's appearance; only a vague impression remained in his mind. But now, in the stalemate, in the firelight, that eerie face was clearly imprinted before Third Uncle's eyes. At first glance, Third Uncle only felt it was intimidating—what kind of corpse hadn't he seen? Wet or dry, headless or two-headed, peaceful or ferocious; he was thick-skinned by nature and hadn't feared such things since he was fifteen. But this face was too goddamn sinister. The monster's face was bronze-colored, its flesh shrunken, skin cracked into scales, peeling off on one side. Its two eyes had no pupils, yet you somehow felt it was looking at you. Third Uncle thought, this doesn't look like a corpse. No matter how ugly a corpse is, it should at least look like a human. How could this thing look like a snake? Could it be a demon? And what puzzled Third Uncle most was that the more he looked at that face, the more he felt a sense of déjà vu, as if he had seen it somewhere before, but that was absolutely impossible, making cold sweat continuously bead on his neck.

He froze for a moment, unable to strike, and his own hands grew weaker. The monster, expressionless, squeezed out a bit more. Third Uncle knew he couldn't keep pondering blindly, so he threw the firelighter at the face, and the flames roared up. The liquor Third Uncle liked was a green 'Shaodaozi'—Shanghainese called it 'lǜdòu shāo'. Third Uncle drank the kind brewed by villagers; it was base liquor with extremely high alcohol content, igniting at a touch. He still liked to drink it even now, but for someone his age, such liquor was like a slow poison. That strange face was instantly engulfed in flames, no longer visible. The surrounding things began to sizzle, emitting white smoke; flesh started to melt, and an extremely foul smell assailed the nose. Most of the burial goods in the coffin were covered with damp, rotten silk, which now also crackled as it burned. Third Uncle held his breath as much as possible. The fire burned for about six or seven minutes, then the alcohol was consumed. Third Uncle found that this trick had worked; the upward pressure from below gradually faded. As the fire diminished, the face corroded away, revealing the charred black skeleton inside. After another ten or so minutes, the flames all went out. Third Uncle relaxed his feet and found that the force beneath had disappeared.

Fearing a change, he still didn't relax; with one hand still propping, he used the other to draw the machete at his waist and poke at the skeleton. After poking a couple of times, finding no reaction, Third Uncle forcefully chopped at the neck twice, severing the cervical vertebrae, then finally breathed a sigh of relief, certain this thing was really dead. Once he relaxed, his whole body lost strength; the power in both hands quickly vanished. His legs gave way, and he sat down inside the coffin, gasping for breath. He thought to himself, this time he was really lucky, and thanks to his own quick thinking, he'd have something to brag about when he got back.

But what exactly was this thing? A corpse so terrifying—was it really a blood corpse? He had originally thought a blood corpse would be covered in blood, but this didn't look like that.

Thinking this, he picked up the flashlight beside him, held it in his mouth, and once again lifted the stone slab of the hidden door under the stone coffin. The headless blood corpse lay flat under the slab—a burly male mummy, its clothes completely rotted away, leaving only strips of cloth stuck to its body. Its whole body showed a bronze rust color, and most terrifyingly, it was covered with many skin folds resembling eyes. Third Uncle pressed its chest; it felt as hard as steel. He felt fortunate that if he hadn't been able to hold it back and let it out, even a gun might not have stopped it; it would have been a narrow escape. He jumped into the coffin, stepped on both sides, and wanted to pull the blood corpse out for a closer look. At that moment, Third Uncle suddenly froze. An extreme chill rushed from the soles of his feet straight to his forehead. He suddenly noticed that this blood corpse's right arm, which was tucked under the stone slab, was only a stump! The part below the elbow was missing. Third Uncle's heart skipped a beat; his mind instantly became chaotic. He immediately bent down to look at the break of the severed arm, and saw that the flesh was indeed like cotton wool, in a shape of explosive tearing. Third Uncle suddenly went limp and sat down on the ground. ******************************************************************************* I had initially thought Third Uncle's narration was too verbose, but as soon as I heard that the blood corpse had only one hand, I immediately understood why Third Uncle had described it in such detail. A wound like cotton wool in a shape of explosive tearing could only be caused by a short-range burst of gunfire. That is to say, the blood corpse's hand had been shot off! These circumstances, together with Grandpa's notes and Third Uncle's expression, allowed me to roughly guess how things had unfolded. Instantly, I too felt a bone-chilling dread spreading from my back. But if things really happened that way, then the whole matter was too incredible, almost like a plot from a supernatural novel; I really couldn't believe it. Third Uncle felt around his body, wanting to find another cigarette to smoke, but obviously he had none left. I felt my back pocket and found half a pack left—Yunnan cigarettes I had gotten from Fatty while partying at the bar. I handed them to Third Uncle. Third Uncle lit another one, took a deep drag, and then said: 'When I saw that blood corpse, I realized that what my old man, your grandpa, wrote in his tattered notebook might have hidden implications, and I also suddenly understood why he didn't want to bring up what happened back then when I asked.' At that time, no matter how we asked Grandpa about what was in his notebook, his only reply was that this was not a story for children. We never knew why back then, but now we finally know, and the truth is so horrifying.

Third Uncle looked at me and said, "Nephew, you're so clever. I believe even without me saying it, you know what's going on." I didn't dare nod, because what I was thinking was too unbelievable. From Grandfather's notebook, it could be known that before Grandfather pulled out the severed hand holding the Warring States silk manuscript from the tomb robbers' tunnel, there was a burst of Mauser pistol fire inside the ancient tomb. That is to say, the uncle in the tomb might have had his right hand shot off by that volley of Mauser fire. And that blood corpse in the hidden chamber of the tomb also had no right hand. Moreover, the wound showed a cotton-like explosive fracture pattern. So there could only be one conclusion: that blood corpse was not an ancient corpse, but my uncle who had turned into a corpse monster! According to my deduction, the sequence of events might have been like this:

At that time, when they went down the robbers' tunnel, they must have discovered the hidden chamber beneath the coffin just like Third Uncle did. Given the uncle's personality in the notebook, he would have been eager to take the lead, definitely rushing ahead of the others to be the first down into the chamber under the coffin. And it was in that chamber that the uncle found the scroll of Warring States silk manuscript. Just as he took out the manuscript and was about to retreat from the chamber, some terrifying incident suddenly occurred.

When the incident struck, the uncle should still have had room to cope, so he was able to extend his hand out of the chamber. But by the time he wanted to get out himself, it might have been too late. Out of necessity, either he himself or Great-Grandfather shot off his hand.

The severed hand was dragged out of the ancient tomb by Grandfather outside the tomb chamber using a "dirt rat." Meanwhile, the uncle was trapped inside the hidden chamber and eventually turned into such a terrifying monster.

Meanwhile, Great-Grandfather and Great-Great-Grandfather, who were outside trying to rescue the uncle, were also implicated and died beside the coffin.

Finally, what exactly was that blood-red thing that chased out of the tomb chamber, and that strange-faced giant corpse at the end? This part isn't clearly explained. I think it's possible that the blood-red thing was the uncle, who had been afflicted but still retained some consciousness. However, Grandfather could never have thought of that at the time and mistook it for a monster in the ancient tomb.

Of course, whether it was really like that, only those involved would know. Such speculation, no matter how plausible, is still just speculation. I tentatively shared my thoughts, and Third Uncle looked at me with a complicated expression and nodded.

At this point I thought of a question and asked, "But since Grandfather said to us, 'This story is not for children,' it means he knew that the person he shot might have been his own brother. Logically, he couldn't have known that, so did Grandfather go back to this ancient tomb afterwards? And the reason the notebook doesn't record what happened next is because the truth was too horrifying?" Third Uncle frowned and said, "I have the same question, but this point can no longer be investigated. The old man is dead, and we can never know what actually happened back then." I asked, "And then? Did you go down into that hidden chamber beneath the coffin?" Third Uncle took another fierce drag on his cigarette, almost finishing a fifth of it, and said, "If you were me, would you be able to resist going down?"

I smiled bitterly to myself, thinking that if I were you, I would have been scared to death when opening the hidden door, and wouldn't even have the chance to think about going down or not. I shook my head and said, "How can I compare with you? You know your nephew's courage. Don't rub salt in the wound. Just tell me, what exactly was inside that hidden chamber?"

Third Uncle sighed and said, "Let me show you something first, then I'll tell you slowly."

As he spoke, he pulled out his backpack from the cabinet beside his hospital bed and took out a small ivory box from it.

I took it and saw that the box was a Qing dynasty enamel base box, an unpainted rough blank. It was quite heavy. I opened it and inside was a black, ugly pebble, just like the kind often seen in piles of construction sand on building sites.

"What is this?" I asked curiously.

"This stone is what I took out of that hidden chamber," said Third Uncle.

I let out an "Ah" and said, "This thing?" I looked at the stone more closely but couldn't see anything unusual. Just as I was about to reach for it with my hand, Third Uncle closed the lid. "Don't touch it. This thing is a bit dangerous," he said.

I handed the box back to him and asked in surprise, "This just looks like ordinary stone—was this really what was placed in such a bizarre secret chamber?"

Third Uncle sighed again, as if people of his age were always prone to sighing. He said, "Don't underestimate it because it seems unremarkable. At that time, I almost lost my life trying to get this thing."

*******************************************************************************After deducing the truth behind the blood corpse, Third Uncle was so shocked that he lost his composure. He sat on the ground in a daze for a long time before finally snapping out of it. His mind was in a tumultuous mess as he stared at the entrance to the secret chamber just two feet away, wondering what mysterious power lay within that darkness that could transform a person into such a state.

Third Uncle, like me, was cursed with a restless fate, utterly unable to bear the torment of curiosity. Only, I was too timid and often suffered from the dual torture of curiosity and fear. Third Uncle was different—he hesitated only for a moment before deciding to go down into the secret chamber to investigate and find out the truth.

Looking back now, it was actually a very unwise decision. Probably only someone like Third Uncle would have made such a choice under those circumstances.

The reason Grandfather refused to teach Third Uncle too many skills was precisely because he acted impulsively. Fact proved that Grandfather was quite accurate in judging people—it's just a pity that the younger generation often ignores the wisdom of the elders.

After resting for a while, Third Uncle began his preparations. First, he gathered the remains of his ancestors, took off his coat, tore it into pieces, wrapped up the two skeletons outside the coffin in the cloth, then put on gloves and used the burial straps to loop under the armpits of the blood corpse, pulling it out of the coffin. He respectfully placed it aside, put the severed head back, and kowthed three solid, resounding times to the three sets of bones, saying, "Unworthy descendant Wu Sansheng, dull-witted and foolish, has offended the remains of the ancestors. I beg for your forgiveness." After finishing his bows, he tucked the machete back into his waistband, pulled out detonators and inserted them into his belt, and surveyed himself from head to toe to make sure everything was in order. Composing himself, he came to the edge of the coffin, raised the hidden door again, and carefully peered inside.

Beneath the hidden door, there was indeed a hidden passage, sloping downward. However, unexpectedly, the passage was very low, so low that it seemed one could only crawl in on all fours. The opening of the passage matched the coffin in length and width. The "blood zombie" just now had been lying inside this passage. It was fortunate that the space below was cramped; even with its natural immense strength, the "blood zombie" couldn't exert much force. Otherwise, given Third Uncle's strength alone, how could he have held it down? Third Uncle first lit a fire starter and tossed it in. The flame tumbled all the way into the depths of the passage, finally stopping and becoming a small light source, illuminating a rough outline.

Then he felt for the machete at his waist, muttered a prayer to his ancestors, took a deep breath, carefully shrunk his body, and slowly squeezed into the passage.

A foul stench beyond description permeated the passage. Third Uncle lay flat on his stomach, had to hold his breath, and wriggled inward. Once his entire body was inside, his foot nudged the hidden door above, which flipped back down on its own.

In an instant, the surroundings fell into an eerie silence, leaving only the crackling sound of the fire starter burning ahead.

Third Uncle felt inexplicably tense, his body covered in cold sweat. He forced himself to calm down, felt for his flashlight, turned it on, and shone it forward.

The light from the flashlight was much stronger than that of the fire starter, casting far ahead. He saw that the secret passage was built from black stone slabs, each section about three meters long, connected one after another, all the way into the depths. The entire passage was very clean, and the black stone slabs around were well polished, without any decoration. At first glance, it looked like the ventilation duct of an old central air conditioning system.

The size and color of the fire starter's flame ahead looked normal, so the air in the passage should have been connected to the outside, making breathing no problem.

Third Uncle steadied himself, bit down on the flashlight, and began to crawl deeper into the passage.

I had also experienced crawling in narrow passages before and knew it was far from easy. Although Third Uncle was much more physically fit than me, after just a few steps he was already breathing heavily. Having to stay vigilant and watch his surroundings made crawling even more strenuous.

After crawling for about ten minutes, he came to a turn. Third Uncle went around it, expecting the same kind of passage ahead. However, when he turned, he found a black stone wall carved with reliefs blocking his way.

Third Uncle was stunned at first, frozen for a long moment, before realizing that the secret passage had come to an end.

What was going on? He was bewildered. He had originally thought that at the end of the passage there would be an exit leading to a secret chamber, and that all the secrets would be found inside that chamber.

But now there was nothing—the passage extended only a short distance before a black stone wall blocked the way.

Could it be that when my uncle came in back then, he triggered some mechanism that sealed off the passage? Third Uncle knocked on the stone wall, finding that it seemed solid behind it. He checked the joints around it and discovered that the stone wall was sealed in place, meaning it wasn't some mechanism—this was indeed the end of the passage. When his uncle came in back then, he must have crawled this far too.

It was strange. If this was the end of the passage, then this was definitely the place where his uncle had stolen the silk manuscript back then. But there was nothing here! Where was the Warring States silk manuscript kept back then? Could it have been just lying on the ground? Third Uncle turned around, looked around the end of the passage, and then eyed the stone wall blocking the way.

At that moment, the relief on the stone wall caught his attention.

It was a deity with a human face and a bird's body. The bird's body resembled that of an owl, while the human face was very strange, carved in an exaggerated style. The face was as large as a washbasin, with its mouth open, flowing hair like clouds, and a blank expression, making it impossible to tell whether it was male or female.

(When I heard this, I went "Ah.") Third Uncle noticed a slight depression at the mouth of the relief. He gestured and figured that the silk manuscript at the time might have been rolled into a scroll and placed inside the mouth of the relief.

However, the mouth of the relief was solid—meaning that after taking out the silk manuscript, no mechanisms would be triggered.

He looked up again at the other parts of the relief face—the nose, ears, eyes—and finally, his eyes met the eyes of the relief.

On the face of the human-faced bird-bodied deity relief, there were four eyes. The pupils were all carved into circular shapes. But strangely, the pupils of the upper two eyes bulged outward, while the pupils of the lower two eyes were recessed inward. In other words, they used both the intaglio and relief carving methods, respectively.

This was something Third Uncle had never encountered before. Even I knew that this was absolutely impossible—all reliefs should either be all intaglio or all relief; they can't be mixed together randomly.

Third Uncle leaned in closer to take a look and couldn't help exclaiming, "Ah!" He discovered that the stone at the pupils of the relief was not part of the whole; instead, an ugly black pebble was inlaid there. Strangely, the pebbles in the upper two eyes were still embedded, while the two in the lower eyes had been dug out, leaving only two spherical pits.

As Third Uncle looked at those two eyes, his mind gradually became clear. A bold speculation emerged in his heart.