Chapter 45: Raging Sea: Terracotta Corridor

My attention had been completely focused on that coffin, so I hadn’t carefully examined the porcelain jar; I quickly stepped back a few paces. The jar wobbled and rolled several times, then changed direction and rolled toward the stone door of the figurine passage, finally hitting the doorframe with a clang and stopping.

The few of us looked at each other, all feeling baffled—could Fatty really have called it right, and there was a zombie inside? We stood frozen for a moment, not daring to approach easily. Fatty lowered his voice and said, “Folks, this jar really is a bit sinister. How about we strike first and give it a few darts?”

I certainly didn’t agree. I said quietly, “No way, let’s first figure out what it is exactly!”

I said that partly because I could already tell that this large blue-and-white porcelain jar from the Yuan-Ming period was definitely a rare treasure—such large ones are hardly seen in the world anymore, and each one smashed is one less. Partly because I had no idea what strange thing was inside; if it really was a zombie as Fatty said, we’d inevitably have to fight, and after exhausting myself underwater earlier, I definitely couldn’t run anymore.

But we were in an ancient tomb dozens of meters underwater, and there was no telling how long this air would last. If we stayed at a standoff, it wouldn’t do us any good. Advancing or retreating—it was a hard choice. I’ve never been good at making decisions, and I was sweating with anxiety.

Just then, Fatty saw me hesitating and said, “We can’t be sure there’s a zombie inside. This place connects to the sea—maybe some crab or lobster crawled in. There’s no need to scare ourselves for nothing. Let’s go over and take a look.”

The woman shook her head. “Our main goal is still to get into the main burial chamber. Don’t waste time on the way. I think we should avoid it if we can and see if there’s another way out somewhere else.”

Hearing that, I thought it was a good idea and immediately examined the side chamber thoroughly from left to right. Unfortunately, the place was plain to see—there was no second door and no hole for us to crawl through.

Fatty was getting impatient. He said, “As things stand, either we move that jar out of the way, or we go back. There’s no other way. But let me say this up front—since we’ve already come this far, being scared back by a jar is something I, Wang Pangzi, absolutely won’t do!”

I looked at A Ning’s expression; she was also very determined. Baldy Zhang still didn’t know what was going on and just kept silent. The three of them all looked at me, as if waiting for my opinion.

I still hadn’t made a clear decision. I thought that rushing over recklessly was definitely not a good idea, but what Fatty said made sense: a lot of things in ancient tombs are just us scaring ourselves. Seeing that look in A Ning’s eyes, my heart softened, and I said, “Alright, we’ll take it step by step. If nothing happens, fine. But if it tries anything funny, we’ve got four dart guns in hand—we’re not afraid of it!”

Fatty patted me in encouragement. I took out my gun, released the safety, and aimed at the jar. Fatty took the lead, and the four of us carefully moved in along the edge of the door.

I wasn’t really scared, just a bit nervous. I was still wearing my diving suit, and I couldn’t sweat through it, which felt terrible.

Just as we, Fatty and I, could almost see what was inside the jar, suddenly there was a clatter—the jar actually turned around. Blood rushed to my head, and I nearly fired.

That quick-witted Fatty immediately jumped back two steps and made a gesture for us not to move. Then the porcelain jar suddenly started rolling again, this time in a direct arc, clattering and rolling into the pitch-black corridor. Fatty cursed and followed right in. Inside was complete darkness. I shone my flashlight and saw that this was a very simple straight passage paved with white marble bricks, empty of anything. Along the two sides of the floor were two lamp channels with lamp stands every meter. At the other end of the figurine passage was a jade door, and to the left and right there were two slightly smaller ones, making three in total—all open, as if someone had already gone inside. The jar had stopped right in the middle of the left small door and was not moving.

This time I really felt something eerie. The jar’s behavior seemed like it was guiding us—it just about didn’t say “follow me.” That was definitely some kind of conscious action. Could it be that what was inside the jar wasn’t a zombie, but a ghost? I shared my thoughts. Fatty thought it made some sense and said, “Now that you mention it, it really does seem that way. I was just thinking, this thing rolled so smoothly, just like a bowling ball.”

I smiled bitterly. Fatty added, “Since we’ve come this far, let’s not hesitate anymore here. We’ll just follow it and see what its intention is. Anyway, whether we stick our head out or shrink it back, we’ll get the knife.”

Everyone nodded. Fatty patted me and said, “Bare stone slab roads like this usually have traps. Brother Wu, take a look—does this place have any problems?”

I knew I couldn’t shirk the responsibility, so I nodded, and shone my flashlight on the ground. The floor of this figurine passage was made of small stone slabs, which could easily have had crossbow mechanisms. I figured that since Third Uncle had been here, if there were mechanisms, they might have already been destroyed or triggered. But if not, it would be troublesome. I warned them and then adjusted my backpack and walked forward first.

To avoid mechanisms, the best way was to lie flat against the wall, but on both sides of the figurine passage were the two lamp channels, dark and unknown inside—touching them might cause even more trouble. We had to walk along the edges of the channels.

I told them to pay very close attention to the feel under their feet, but honestly, I had no clue myself. Putting a foot down—how hard, how fast—all had their nuances. These things really needed experience, which I had none of, so the more I walked, the more panicked I became.

After walking about a dozen steps in this anxious state, I was soaked in cold sweat. The people behind me saw how nervous I was and got nervous too. Fatty said, “Looks like this mine-sweeping job isn’t so easy, little comrade. If you’re too tired, let’s take a break?”

I didn’t have time to argue with him. “Don’t talk. If I get distracted, I might step wrong. I’m warning you, don’t disturb me.” Before I even finished, I suddenly felt a vibration under my foot. I turned around and saw that A Ning had stepped on a sinking slab, looking at me in panic.

I groaned inwardly. This is it—why are we so unlucky? We’re about to be shot full of holes like a hedgehog. Then I heard a whoosh, and a crossbow bolt flew right past her ear. Before I could react, a second bolt came, straight at her chest.

It was like lightning and flint. A Ning’s expression changed, and she spun around in a flash, swinging her hand, and caught the bolt in midair—all in a fraction of a second. I didn’t even see her clearly.

Seeing her moves, I was taken aback, but there was no time to think. I felt a series of vibrations under my feet, and I shouted, “Get down! More hidden crossbows!”

As the words left my mouth, more than a dozen streaks of white light shot toward us. I quickly ducked to dodge one. At that moment, I saw a creature covered in white fur crawl out of the jar in the distance and quickly scurry into the stone door on the left. I was about to yell when suddenly I felt a pain in my chest. I looked down—damn! There were already two bolts stuck in my chest, buried about two or three inches deep.