Chapter 93: Qinling Sacred Tree

Because I had fired the shotgun with my left hand, and its recoil was terrifyingly strong, after that shot I only felt numbness in my tiger's mouth, and my hand couldn't even lift up. But fortunately the sound was so startling that even Lao Yang stumbled back, and those rats immediately retreated, not daring to attack recklessly again.

Seeing this as an opportunity, I hurriedly urged Lao Yang to hurry. The shotgun was incredibly powerful at close range, but ammunition was limited. Even if one shot killed ten, it would be far from enough. The next time I fired, I didn't know if it would have such a good effect.

While thinking, I had already retreated to the center of the pit. I looked down and saw a dark opening in the ground, with a faintly visible layer of bricks beneath the soil surface. Lao Yang labored to stuff Liang Shiye into that hole, letting him slide down along his spine all the way. As soon as he let go, Liang Shiye fell down. Then he also bent down, supported himself with both hands on the ground, and jumped down.

I took a closer look at the hole and thought it was too small. The dimensions—three horizontal and four vertical—were just enough for one person to pass through, with only a fist's width in front of the chest. The hole was practically skin-tight. But when Lao Yang had heard me talk about that matter, he didn't know its size either. Probably he made a mistake when he removed the bricks. Now I couldn't care less; as long as it didn't collapse, it was fine. So I imitated Lao Yang, supporting myself with one hand on the ground, and jumped down.

The top of the underground palace was more than three meters above the ground. When Lao Yang had climbed out earlier, there must have been something underneath to raise him up, otherwise he couldn't have operated. But when I looked down just now, it was pitch black inside, and I had no idea what was used. So I had to tense my muscles in case of emergency.

Before I was even fully down, my feet touched the ground—quite steady. I stomped and found it was wood. I thought to myself, Lao Yang couldn't have propped up the coffin, could he? I lit my lighter and saw that I had landed on a wooden frame with a lotus throne. Beneath the lotus throne were several piles of loose bricks, which raised it to a suitable height. Lao Yang was anxiously waiting for me to come down, while Liang Shiye lay to the side, alive or dead unknown.

I handed the lighter to Lao Yang. He ran to the side and lit several white jar eternal lamps in the corner, and the tomb chamber lit up. Watching him so familiar with the place, as if he were back home entertaining guests, I began to suspect that this guy still had something left untold.

The only Qing dynasty tomb with an underground palace I'd seen was Emperor Qianlong's mausoleum. Looking around now, there was nothing special. The square chamber walls were all made of strip stones, and the ceiling was strip stones inlaid with blue bricks. But due to the dampness, almost every place within sight had traces of mildew. On the other hand, because the space was narrow and the air didn't circulate, the moldy smell was even stronger than upstairs, simply unbearable.

I stepped down from the lotus throne and first checked on Liang Shiye. I touched his forehead and found his whole body burning hot, his breathing weak—symptoms of hyperthermia. I hurriedly poured the remaining half a flask of water down his throat. Lao Yang pinched his philtrum a few times, finally bringing him around.

I pulled out a few bricks from under the lotus throne, climbed back up, and tried to plug the opening above. But it didn't work. I could only loosely stack the bricks on the broken edge. It looked like nothing could get in, but actually a push would knock them down. Still, I put the bricks up anyway—if rats did come later, they could serve as an alarm.

After that, I finally had time to tend to my own wounds. The several hits on my back were not light. I asked Lao Yang to take a look, and after confirming that no bones or tendons were hurt, I began to observe this place carefully.

At the back of the tomb chamber, several coffins were arranged side by side—one large and four small. This should be a joint burial chamber, probably the rear hall. The largest coffin was already open. Inside, the corpse wore a suit of armor and a helmet, looking exactly like a Qing dynasty cavalry officer. Unfortunately, its exposed face was covered in black mold, looking very ominous.

If he had re-nailed the coffin after finishing his work, such severe mold wouldn't have occurred. But unfortunately, Lao Yang didn't know how to clean up after himself. I sighed inwardly—this bastard was a textbook example of today's uncivilized amateur grave robber. When we got out, I'd have to give him a good lesson.

Across from the coffins was a passageway. Both sides of the passage were also made of strip stones, with no murals or reliefs. This showed that the tomb was not of high status, just a modestly wealthy family. I had no idea what lay beyond the passage, as there were no side chambers either. I guessed it might just be an antechamber, or nothing at all.

The more I looked, the colder I felt. I couldn't see any of the "huge benefits" Lao Yang had mentioned. I thought to myself, this bastard, could he have screwed me over again? Just as I was about to ask him where the "benefits" were, I saw him walk over to the main coffin, take off his belt and make a loop, slip it around the neck of the moldy corpse, and pull it up.

The method of using a corpse-binding rope to retrieve pearls from the corpse in western Hunan—I had told him about that too. But such a disgusting method had long been out of use. This guy really took whatever I said as gospel. I walked over and asked him what he was doing. He waved his hand, smiled mysteriously, reached under the coffin, and pulled. With a creak, a strip stone behind the coffin sank down, revealing a secret passage.

Seeing that this crude tomb chamber actually contained such a strange secret passage, I grew suspicious. I looked inside and saw a staircase slanting downward. The light was limited; deeper in, I could see nothing.

At this moment, if I had a flashlight, all problems would be solved. But unfortunately, I didn't have one. I thought about asking Lao Yang to fire a flare inside to have a look, but then I remembered the trouble he had just caused and thought better of it. Lately my luck had been bad. If the place caught fire below, we'd be trapped between and suffocated for sure. Lao Yang retrieved his belt and said to me that this passage went straight down, quite far, and the temperature below was too high for resting. We should stop here for a while, eat some dry rations, build up our strength, and then go down.

The smell here was unpleasant, and I had little appetite. After a few bites, I asked him how he had originally discovered this passage.

He said to me: "At that time, I brought the genuine corpse-pulling rope and wanted to take off the corpse's armor. But after pulling a couple of times, it seemed to catch on something. I had one foot on the edge of the coffin, but I didn't have a firm footing, and then I slipped and fell into the coffin—"

I waved my hand at him. "Enough! Don't say any more. If you want to be disgusted, disgust yourself enough."

The three of us ate something hastily. Then Lao Yang said he would lead me down this secret passage first. Liang Shiye hadn't been seriously injured and had recovered by then. When he heard Lao Yang suggesting leaving him behind, he absolutely refused, so we had to take him along. The three of us entered the secret passage with great caution.

Earlier I had worried that the secret passage was pitch black and might have traps. But Lao Yang said he had passed through it several times, and it was not difficult—even without a flashlight, one could

The staircase was longer than I had imagined, and the further down we went, the hotter it became. Soon I was drenched in sweat. At that moment, Old Yang called out for us to watch our step. I pulled myself together, and after a few steps, we were on level ground.

Old Yang lit a lighter and ignited the torches on both sides of the exit. I turned my head and saw that we had left the secret passage behind. Ahead, the space opened up—it was the bottom of a huge circular vertical shaft, about sixty meters in diameter. The floor was sunken into a deep pit, and I still couldn't see what was inside, but there were dim shadows, so it probably wasn't empty.

This was likely the very bottom of Goldfish Mountain's rock core. The walls of the vertical shaft nearby clearly showed signs of excavation, suggesting this cavity was man-made. But why dig so deep? Could this also be part of the mine above? Yet there were no ore veins here. I vaguely saw something enormous standing upright in the center of the pit, but the light was too dim to make it out. The temperature was high, and a scorching wind blowing downward made my head swim and left me unsteady on my feet. Still, because there was no foul smell, it felt a bit more comfortable than upstairs.

I pulled out one of the torches from the wall and followed Old Yang into the pit. Soon, a very spectacular sight gradually became clear before my eyes.

Standing in the middle of the pit was a huge bronze pillar about ten meters in diameter. At first glance, it looked like a curved bronze wall, rising straight up, impossibly high. Its base was firmly embedded in the stone at the bottom of the pit. I was almost stunned speechless—such a gigantic metal object was far beyond the smelting capabilities of that era. No human could have made it. Its appearance here was nothing short of a miracle.

As I approached, I saw that the bronze pillar was covered with many thin bronze rods of varying thicknesses, very similar to the one Old Yang had brought. I estimated there were no fewer than a thousand of them, densely packed, and who knew how many more there were further up.

Old Yang said to me, "When I first came here, I thought it was the Sea-Calming Pillar. But after a closer look, I realized it was a giant bronze tree. Still, I can't figure out—what is this thing doing here?"

Shivering with awe at the sight of such a massive bronze pillar, I stammered, "You'd have to ask the person who put it here. Damn it, that means the mine shaft above might not have been dug for ore at all, but to excavate this thing. They dug all the way down to the bottom of the mountain and still didn't find the end—so how deep underground does this thing go?"

Old Yang said to me, "Last time I came, damn it, I was thinking—this thing might even be driven straight into hell, for all we know."