Chapter 62: Raging Sea: Grave Robber's Tunnel

I was about to start climbing when I heard him ask, and couldn't help shrinking my neck. I had been too tense just now to notice, but actually, back in the corridor, I had felt the wound cut by the lotus arrow showing signs of inflammation. Yet as it itched and itched, it seemed to get a bit better. I lifted my clothes and looked at the wound, finding that the redness and swelling had subsided, and there was no unusual sensation. I said, "I do feel something, but it's not itchy anymore. The humidity here is so heavy, maybe it's an allergy."

Fatty was extremely itchy and said, "So is there any way to temporarily treat this allergy? I broke out in a cold sweat just now, and now I can't stop itching." As he spoke, he kept rubbing against the wall. I saw blood streaks being rubbed out on his back and felt something was wrong. I quickly asked him to let me see. He twisted around while still scratching incessantly. I slapped his hand away and shone my flashlight on him. I saw that on his back, where the lotus arrow had scraped him, there were actually many white hairs growing—disgusting as hell. I blurted out, "Fatty, how long has it been since you last took a bath?"

Fatty went "Ah?" and said, "Bath? Why ask that? That's personal privacy; I'm not at liberty to answer."

I said, "You haven't washed in days, have you? I'll tell you, don't be scared either. Your back looks like it's moldy—white mold. A wonder of the world. I figure if you keep it up a few more months, you could even grow a lingzhi mushroom."

Fatty heard me but was utterly confused. He said, "What? White coal? Coal comes in white? Don't talk in such a roundabout way. What the hell is going on?"

I saw Poker-face frown. It seemed the situation was bad, and I didn't dare keep joking. Poker-face squeezed over and pressed with his hand. As soon as he pressed, a pack of black blood came out. He said to me softly, "Trouble. There's something off about those lotus arrows."

I found it strange. But I had also been hit by an arrow just now; logically, I should be the same as him. Could it be that the constitution my grandfather passed down to me was really that special? I quickly revealed my own wound to express my doubt.

Poker-face looked at my wound, clicked his tongue, and also couldn't figure out what was going on. At that moment, Fatty got scared and turned to ask me, "What hair? Dammit, don't be so cryptic. Where did I grow hair?" As he spoke, he reached to touch it. I quickly grabbed him and said, "Don't move. It seems you've got some kind of skin disease. Let us take a closer look. Whatever you do, don't scratch, or you'll leave scars."

He was unbearably itchy; how could he hold back? I said to Poker-face, "This can't go on. We need to think of something. I've heard that some people can't stand the itch of skin diseases and even commit suicide!"

Fatty yelled, "I want to kill myself right now! I'm itching to death! Why don't you learn from Guan Yu scraping the bone to heal the wound and just gouge out those two pieces of flesh for me?"

I had a skin disease when I was little. I know a folk remedy, but it's a bit gross. I said to him, "No need to gouge out flesh. Do you really think you have that much meat? I'm not Hua Tuo either. But I still have some skin refresher on me. I'll apply it on you first. It might hurt a bit, so bear with it."

Poker-face was stunned for a moment, and Fatty also went "Ah?" and said, "See, you city folks are so delicate. Dammit, you bring skin toner when grave robbing. Next time, you might as well bring a deck of cards so we can play a few rounds of Big Two when we're trapped."

Of course I wouldn't have such a thing. I spat twice and smeared the saliva on Fatty's back, put on gloves, and started rubbing. I never expected Fatty to be so unable to stand pain. As soon as the saliva was spread, he let out a miserable scream and lunged forward, cursing, "What the hell did you smear on me?! Oh my god, you might as well have gouged me out. Now Fatty is really going to croak!"

I saw that the pain had worked and said, "Look at your lack of backbone. Pain is easier to bear than itch. Are you still itchy now?"

Fatty flailed around for a while and finally calmed down. He said in surprise, "Hey, Xiao Wu, not bad! What was that stuff you used? It's really effective. I feel much more comfortable. What brand is that skin refresher?"

I thought, if he finds out I used spit, he'll kill me for sure. I quickly said, "Stop acting like a sissy. Let's move."

Poker-face found it amusing and shook his head. It was the first time I had seen him not give a bitter smile, and I couldn't help feeling he seemed a bit more human. It looks like people need to communicate more. But after he smiled, he turned back into a poker face and signaled for us to follow. The three of us climbed upward along the winding grave robber's tunnel for about half a cigarette's time. Poker-face said from the front, "A fork."

I squeezed up. Sure enough, there were two passages, left and right. I shone my light into the left one and saw that just a little way in, it was bricked up—a dead end. It seemed that beyond the bricks was the path Poker-face and the others had taken from the right ear chamber to the left side chamber. I didn't know why he had sealed it. Was he afraid something would come from that coffin? But since he had sealed it, the final escape tunnel entrance must be on the right. Poker-face and I thought alike; he pointed for me. The three of us, without another word, continued climbing.

To be honest, I had never crawled for such a long time in my life. I was drenched in sweat. Crawling through an ordinary dirt tunnel wasn't so tiring, mainly because there was no hard surface under the knees, so they didn't hurt. Now beneath us were all brick fragments; crawling on them was like torture. My knees felt scorching hot. It seems being human has its perks. In the next life, I should still strive to be human.

I was lost in random thoughts when Poker-face stopped and made a gesture telling me to keep quiet. Fatty couldn't see ahead and whispered to me, "What now?"

I told him to be quiet. By then, Poker-face had already turned off his flashlight. Fatty and I, being sensible, immediately turned ours off as well. In an instant, we were plunged into absolute darkness. At that moment, I was very calm; my heart didn't even speed up. (Thinking back later, the experience of nearly being crushed between walls had a big impact on me; I had psychologically overcome my fear of ancient tombs.) I still didn't know what he was up to, but in a tomb, it's always right to listen to him.

We were quiet for a while, our breathing slowed, and the sweat on our bodies dried. At that moment, I heard something walking overhead on the brick ceiling. It seemed like a person. My heart jumped. It looked like above us should already be the rear hall or the corridor. Who was that? Could it be A Ning? Or Third Uncle?

Just as I was speculating, I suddenly felt something tickling the back of my neck. My heart jolted, and I thought, "Could I have grown hair too?" I quickly reached back and touched a wet, sticky mass plastered to my neck. I thought Fatty had squeezed over, cursed under my breath, and pushed it back with force. When I pulled my hand back, I suddenly found my fingernails sticky and there was a faint fragrance.

Disgusted, I wiped the stuff off onto the bricks beside me, thinking that Fatty's hedgehog head must have had a lot of hair oil sprayed on it. Later, if we found a water source, I'd definitely have to wash thoroughly. Who knows how many months old that hair oil on Fatty's head was?

Just as I was thinking, my neck itched again. That damn Fatty was up to some weird trick again. I got inexplicably angry, grabbed that mass, and pressed it against the wall. At that moment, I suddenly realized something was off—why was Fatty's face so small? I cautiously propped myself up and felt it. My heart skipped a beat. Those wet, sticky things all seemed to be hair. I felt again, and found the hair was all tangled together; when I put my hand in, it got caught. I swallowed my saliva and broke out in a cold sweat. Fatty definitely didn't have this much hair. Whose hair was this?

I remembered the man-eating hair in the water tomb passage, and my breathing became difficult. I didn't dare turn on the flashlight. That thing seemed to be just a few centimeters away. If I turned it on, I'd definitely meet its eyes. I couldn't handle that kind of shock. As I was thinking, I felt a slender, wet hand suddenly touch my face—ice-cold, with very sharp fingernails. My scalp started to tingle, and the muscles on my face trembled involuntarily.

The fingernails of that hand scraped my neck and then withdrew. After a moment, I felt that thing's head move close. The wet, tangled hair pressed against my face. I clenched my teeth in disgust, ready to erupt. Suddenly, from within the hair, a woman's voice, very softly, spoke in my ear: "Who are you?"

That voice was really very soft, but I heard it clearly. I was greatly startled. At the same time, this woman's body leaned in, forcefully squeezing into my arms. Her slender hand rested on my shoulder, then she hugged my neck. I trembled instinctively. I felt that this woman was very petite. Her mouth pressed against my ear, and the breath she exhaled was ice-cold. I was completely dazed. Then I heard her say again, "Please hold me."

When I heard these words, it was as if I was bewitched. Although my hands were still resisting, they didn't obey my brain's commands at all. I suddenly hugged her waist. That was even worse. I immediately felt that this woman was wearing nothing at all—her skin was ice-cold but strangely smooth. My heart fluttered, and my face turned red. At that moment, the woman's mouth had already moved to my chin, touching it lightly, as if hinting for me to kiss her. I completely lost control. Just as I was about to lean in and kiss her, suddenly Poker-face's flashlight came on. I immediately saw the 'thing' I was holding in my arms. My scalp exploded, and all the hairs on my body stood on end.