Chapter 68: Raging Sea: Bomb

The three of us exchanged glances, our expressions all grim.

Once the bricks are sealed with molten iron, they're like reinforced concrete—even if you had a sledgehammer on flat ground, it would be useless, let alone in this situation.

Above us, there are at least seven more layers of this kind of structure, staggered against each other. Breaking through here without modern equipment is absolutely impossible.

I felt frustrated, cursing myself for not thinking of this earlier. A flat ceiling has much less compressive strength than an arched one, so the bricks above would definitely need reinforcement. In Ming tombs, there's no way around it—they always use molten iron to seal them. I'd been relying on a notebook and my half-baked knowledge of architecture, talking theory without practice, spouting nonsense, and now I was paying the price.

Fatty looked at me and asked, "Architect comrade, what now? You come up with a plan."

"What else can we do? Give it a shot even if it's a lost cause," I said, still hoping for a bit of luck. "It's been over two hundred years—I don't believe it's still that solid."

Fatty saw that I wasn't too panicked and figured the problem wasn't that serious, so he started chipping at the bricks. Hollow bricks break easily, but once they crumbled, the iron bars formed from the solidified molten iron were still there. Fatty put all his strength into it and only managed to leave a few dents. He knew something was wrong and said, "No good. These iron bars are as thick as a palm. You'd need a Jiefang truck to even have a chance of breaking through."

I gave it a few hits too, and my palm went numb. I knew brute force wasn't going to solve this, and I felt deflated. "Looks like we underestimated ancient construction techniques. These iron bars are high-purity—they won't budge."

Fatty said, "How about we grind them down? The ancients said, 'With time and patience, the iron rod can be ground into a needle.'"

"Give it a rest," I said. "Those iron bars are way too thick. You'd be grinding till the year of the monkey. We've got less than twenty minutes until low tide. By the time you're done, we'd have met our end."

Fatty got angry. "Then what do you suggest? Didn't you hear that woman? The storm season's coming soon in this area, lasting at least a week. If we can't get out now, we'll be stuck down here for seven days." He emphasized, "Seven days, damn it. We'd either suffocate or starve to death."

I knew how serious the problem was and said to them, "You two have way more experience than me in this. If you came across a tomb wall like this under normal circumstances, what would you do?"

Without a second thought, Fatty and Poker-face said in unison, "Explosives!"

Fatty saw me freeze and explained, "Don't be surprised. This kind of wall is tougher than you can imagine. When I used to rob tombs like this, we'd usually dig the entrance from below. If we had to break through a wall like this, we'd have no choice but to use explosives."

My heart sank. I knew what he was talking about, but in a centuries-old tomb like this, where was I supposed to find explosives? Then I regretted it. I remembered that before we went underwater, A Ning had asked if we wanted to bring some explosives. Back then, I'd been traumatized by the blast at the Lu King's Palace and adamantly refused, tossing them back into the storage. If Third Uncle had been there, he would've insisted we bring them.

Thinking back now, my reasoning back then was way too naive. If there's a next time, I won't treat it so lightly.

Since getting out from above seemed hopeless, I had to give up. "Looks like that plan's a no-go. We'll have to think of something else."

"Think of something else? We've got less than twenty minutes!" Fatty said. "I say, if it really comes down to it, we go back the way we came. Maybe that chamber with our diving gear has come back."

I nodded. I really didn't want to go back into that grave robber's tunnel, but there was no other choice. And that meant facing the monster in the tunnel again, which was a real headache.

Just then, Poker-face suddenly said, "Wait! You two stay here and don't move. I think I know a place where there might be explosives!"

Before we could react, he let go of the rope and slid down the pillar.

Fatty looked at me, completely confused. I shook my head at him to show I didn't understand either.

Poker-face was too serious to joke around, but I really couldn't think of anywhere around here that would have explosives. He was stripped down like us, wearing only his underwear—no way he had any hidden. I watched him leap onto the Heavenly Palace stone disc in the center of the room. Following his flashlight beam, I saw him crouch beside a seated mummified corpse in the middle of the disc, feeling around for something.

That corpse should be what he called the "golden body of ascension." I had no idea what he was looking for. Then it suddenly hit me—oh, of course! By then, Poker-face had carefully lifted the entire mummy. The dried corpse was barely heavier than bones, so it didn't take much effort. Fatty asked me, "What the hell is he doing?" I said, "I'm just guessing. There might be a mechanism inside the corpse, triggered by a rotating octagonal jewel. It could contain explosives. If someone disrespects the corpse and tries to take the treasure inside, it would set off the blast."

Fatty's jaw dropped. "How does he know about that?"

"Twenty years ago, when he touched this corpse, he might have figured it out. You heard him—he only said 'might,' meaning he's not sure," I said. "But I wonder if explosives this old will still work."

As I spoke, Poker-face had already moved the mummy to the base of the pillar. He called up to us, "One of you come down and help."

I figured Fatty would have too much trouble climbing down, so I told him to stay and climbed down myself. Poker-face slung the mummy onto my back and tied it with a rope. "Don't bump it," he said. "If the mechanism inside still works, it'll go off at the slightest touch."

Up close, this "golden body of ascension" was nothing like Poker-face's description. The corpse was pitch black, so black it seemed to shine, as if carved from some smooth material rather than flesh. The muscles were sunken, especially around the mouth, with a faint, eerie smile that gave me goosebumps. In short, this corpse didn't look anything like the eminent monks you see in temples; instead, it felt deeply ominous.

I didn't dare touch it. I asked him, "Are you sure this corpse is safe? I feel like it's up to something. Look at its expression—why is it so… so…"

"Eerie," Poker-face finished my sentence. "I don't understand it either. This corpse does give off an unpleasant feeling, but it's already desiccated, so it can't reanimate."

I nodded, cold sweat breaking out. "Good. Are you sure the explosives inside are still usable?"

He said, "As long as the octagonal jewel mechanism works, the explosives should be fine. I'm just worried the mechanism might have aged."

Carrying a mummy on my back made me extremely uncomfortable, especially with its long fingernails right in front of my face, so eerie that my legs went weak. I thought of the corpse herders in western Hunan, who carry bodies like this on their backs, but they wrap them in layers of cloth. Me? I had a naked mummy against my bare skin, skin to skin—that dry, stiff feeling, I can't even describe how creepy it was.

Still, there was no other choice. At least the light was good enough that I could see clearly and not let my imagination run wild. Gritting my teeth, I treated the corpse like a sack on my back and started climbing up step by step. Poker-face climbed below me, ready to catch me if I slipped.

After about five or six steps, I suddenly felt something off about the mummy. My back was pressed right against its skin, so I could feel it very clearly—it seemed to have gotten a little bigger. I stopped and focused, but I couldn't pinpoint anything unusual.

I glanced back at Poker-face below me. If the corpse had undergone any change, he should have seen it immediately, but he didn't seem to notice anything. Was I just being paranoid? No wonder—carrying such an eerie corpse made it hard not to be.

I heard Fatty urging me from above, so I had to keep climbing. I was so tense my legs were shaking. I wanted to get it over with quickly, so I climbed two or three steps at a time until I finally reached the top.

Fatty had seen countless corpses, but even he looked uncomfortable after seeing this one. After all, when you hang a corpse with binding rope, there's still a gap of a few fists. Now it was like dancing cheek to cheek—definitely an awful feeling.

I steeled myself and said to him, "Secure this to the apex of the ceiling, then come down quickly. We'll detonate from below. If the mechanism inside still works, it should be fine."

Fatty looked at the vault and said, "Are you kidding me? How the hell am I supposed to fix it? You want me to pull a Dong Cunrui or what?"

I looked up—there was nothing on the vault to hook onto. If we wanted to maximize the force of the explosion, we had to press the entire corpse tightly against the vault. That really was a problem.

I thought it over and said, "If there's no other way, tie it upside down to this pillar. Hurry up—time's almost up."

Fatty carefully took the corpse, shifted it around, and asked me, "Hey, that's weird—why does this corpse have a tail?"