Chapter 48: Raging Sea: Continuing the Puzzle

He got up, walked to the stone door of the tunnel, touched the door frame, and said, "This is indeed a mechanism, and a very simple one at that, only good enough to fool children. That's why your Third Uncle couldn't see it twenty years ago but discovered it twenty years later."

Fatty, seeing that he seemed to know something, said, "Brother, if you know, just say it. Don't keep us in suspense. I'm dying of curiosity!"

Poker-face said, "Let me give you an example, and you'll understand right away. Suppose there is a two-story building, each floor with one room. You walk out of the room on the second floor. At that moment, I build another floor underneath the first floor. When you come back, the room that was on the second floor is now on the third floor, and the room that was on the first floor is now on the second floor."

This example wasn't a good one. Fatty listened in bewilderment, holding up two fingers and pondering, "One two, two one, one two one — damn it, what's this one two three? The more you say, the more confused I get!"

I understood immediately. What Third Uncle meant by an elevator was exactly this. It seemed that when he first discovered this secret, the first word that came to his mind was this term. I sighed in admiration, but at the same time my heart trembled. It was both unexpected and reasonable. And such a structure was not complicated; it really was just a trick to fool children.

I saw that Fatty absolutely couldn't understand, so I explained it to him again. He finally got it, but suddenly lost interest and said, "So that's it. Damn, it really is simple. I thought there was some deeper mystery inside, but it's nothing special."

I felt ashamed. I was originally an architecture student — this mechanism was entirely within the realm of architecture, and yet I hadn't noticed it at all. I really should reflect on that. It seems one should always think of things in the simplest way.

Poker-face's expression didn't lighten. After carefully examining the door frame, he went over to look at the water in the spring. Judging by his actions, there was still something he hadn't figured out. I asked him, "What's wrong? Still a problem?"

He nodded and said, "There is a big contradiction between what Third Uncle said about his experience and our own experience. I wonder if you've noticed it."

I looked at him doubtfully. Actually, I also felt that the explanation he had just given was a bit off, but I couldn't pinpoint where. Poker-face said, "Third Uncle was lying in this room and never walked out of the tunnel. No matter how the room rose or fell, what he saw should still be this room. How could it have changed?"

A lightbulb went off in my head. That was true. He continued, "Moreover, the side chambers in an ancient tomb are always symmetrical left and right. It's impossible to have only one. Logically, there should be another room opposite us."

We walked into the tunnel, shone our flashlights, and saw only a white marble brick wall opposite — no door at all. Poker-face pressed his ear against the wall, using two fingers to trace along the brick joints, feeling his way inch by inch. After about ten minutes, he came back and shook his head, indicating that it was a solid brick wall.

Fatty was getting impatient. He yawned and said, "Never mind the side chambers. Damn it, we haven't even found a way out yet. Even if we know what's going on, we're still going to die, right?"

Fatty made a good point. I sighed, thinking to myself: How did Third Uncle manage to escape both times? What method did he use? The second time he came out, he didn't have any diving equipment either. Did he just hold his breath and swim out of the ancient tomb?

There must be something about his experiences that I don't know. But that old fox just wouldn't tell. Third Uncle, oh Third Uncle, do you realize that a few casually spoken bullshit words from you might get your nephew killed at the bottom of this sea, more than ten meters deep? Neither of them spoke, both seemingly pondering the whole matter. I also calculated in my mind. Actually, there were only a few ways to get out of the tomb: first, go back the same way—impossible, unless our lung capacity matched a dolphin's; second, find the secret passage left by the craftsmen. That might be a good idea for a dry tomb, but in an underwater tomb, it's unrealistic because the sunken ship tomb was built entirely on the ship before being sunk. Even if there was a passage, it would inevitably lead to the sea, and water becomes the most convenient medium separating yin and yang.

Third, the dumbest method: dig straight out. I looked up at the dome and saw nothing but layers of bricks. I let out a long sigh. Even if we could dig, it would be a huge project. I tried to design this underwater tomb myself, to see what would be above the dome if we followed the simplest architectural principles.

What we could be sure of now was that bricks alone couldn't form an airtight structure. There must be white putty in the brick joints for sealing, and above that, multiple layers of sealing wax on wooden boards as a waterproof sealing layer, then plaster on top.

At that thought, a flash of inspiration hit me, and I had a very bold plan. I excitedly said to them, "Actually, we don't need to be afraid. I estimate we're only about ten meters from the sea surface. To accommodate the elevator mechanism, this tomb chamber must be built very high, so the top of the tomb won't be far from the seabed. If worse comes to worst, we can dig straight up. The water above this underwater tomb isn't very deep. If we do it at low tide, as long as the sand above doesn't collapse, I think we still have a chance to get out."

Fatty waved his hand lazily and said, "We didn't bring any tools when we came in. The top is all solid bricks. What are we going to dig with? Our hands?"

I said, "You don't understand this. In a sunken ship underwater tomb, most of the bricks are hollow. They can withstand pressure but not impact. If we can find some metal objects and hit them hard a few times, we should be able to make a hole."

Fatty perked up at this and said, "Hey — that might actually work. Forget about tomb raiding; let's find some tools. This tomb is huge, and the main chamber must have burial bronze objects."

People are like that: if they think they're doomed, they won't want to do anything, but once they know there's a glimmer of hope, all their intelligence kicks in. My mind was racing, and I immediately had a plan for how to make the hole. I studied architecture in university, so I was very familiar with this. After careful consideration, all conditions were met. As long as the hole could be completed within the few tens of minutes of low tide, the chance of escape was high! Then Poker-face said, "There's still a long time until low tide. I don't know if the air here will last until then. Everything still depends on fate."

Fatty jumped up and said, "Damn it! Who cares about low tide or not? Let's first find something to break open the roof. Being suffocated here is too frustrating. I'd rather find a zombie and get bitten to death quickly!"

I originally wanted to tell him that if we dug through before low tide, the water above us would be at least two meters deep. If it rushed in, not to mention climbing out, the entire tomb chamber would be filled in just a few minutes. But seeing him so enthusiastic, I didn't want to discourage him.

We pulled ourselves together, sorted our things, and headed toward the tunnel. Just as we stepped out of the stone door of the passage, all three of us froze at the same time. Fatty cursed, "This place is damn creepy."

In front of us, where there had been a brick wall, there was now a door. I shone my flashlight inside and saw a huge golden-thread nanmu coffin.