Chapter 94: Crawl

I stared at this bronze tree, utterly astonished, and even forgot to ask Old Itch how it related to the "tremendous benefit." I just circled around it, leaning in to look closely while sighing incessantly.

Bronze trees are extremely rare artifacts. As far as I could recall, apart from the one unearthed at Sanxingdui, there didn't seem to be any elsewhere. I only had a bit of understanding from documentaries. The archaeological community had no firm conclusion about their origin—there were many theories. But from a casting perspective, aside from its size, this bronze tree had nothing else remarkable about it. Obviously, with such a massive project, just being able to produce it was impressive enough; aesthetics didn't matter.

Looking closely, you could see that the surface of the bronze tree wasn't smooth—it was covered in cloud-and-thunder patterns, symbolizing the divine nature of the bronze. Old Itch asked me what these carvings were specifically used for. I told him that the decorative patterns on bronzes evolved to serve ritual vessels. To put it bluntly, they were used to intimidate the common people and add an air of mystery, without any practical function.

Thinking of that, I casually asked Advisor Liang, "By the way, you're well-traveled and knowledgeable. Do you know where exactly this thing was used? I know that most bronze vessels are food vessels, wine vessels, water vessels, and some are musical instruments or weapons. This doesn't fit any of those categories, right?"

Advisor Liang thought for a moment and said to me, "Little Wu, what you mentioned are all small pieces. This huge thing is probably a ritual vessel from around the Shang or Zhou dynasties. As for its specific use in sacrifices—it's too ancient, beyond my knowledge."

"Around the Shang or Zhou"—the Shang lasted over six hundred years, the Zhou five hundred twenty-two years, together over eleven hundred years. "Around that" plus the Xia's four hundred years covers almost half of China's recorded history. That judgment was as good as saying nothing. I asked if he could be more precise, which part of Shang or Zhou? Advisor Liang spread his hands helplessly: "No way. I can't tell by eye. I can only guess. Look, the thunder pattern is below and the cloud pattern is above, representing the opposition of heaven and earth. And the patina is blackish-gray, so it might be tin bronze, lead-tin bronze, or lead bronze. Western Zhou is most likely, maybe fifty percent. The other fifty percent I can't say. You know the rules of our trade; knowing this much is already good. If I go deeper, I'd just be making things up."

In the antiques trade, there's a dividing line in dynasties. Most antiques are from after the Song dynasty. Few are from before the Tang. Shang and Zhou are almost nonexistent. Industry knowledge of such things is limited. Advisor Liang was indeed quite good, much better than me.

After hearing all that, I still didn't have a clear picture, so I pressed him: "Assuming it's Western Zhou, can you judge whether the bronze craftsmanship of that time could theoretically cast something like this?"

Advisor Liang said, "That question is even harder to answer. I only know that bronze vessels back then were first made from clay molds. In theory, if you could make the clay mold, you could cast the finished product. But this thing is too big; it probably couldn't be done with traditional techniques."

Old Itch asked him, "Advisor, could this be a relic from some prehistoric civilization? I've read in the newspapers that iron nails have been dug up in coal mines from hundreds of millions of years ago. This thing is so big; I doubt people back then could have made it, right?"

Advisor Liang shook his head: "Two young masters, I really don't think it's that simple. The period from 1000 BC to around AD 1 is called the Age of Miracles in history. Many impossible things were built then—the Great Wall, the pyramids, the Mausoleum of Qin Shi Huang, the Tower of Babel. To say that this bronze tree couldn't have been cast—well, it's hard to say. After all, our ancestors already knew how to cast bronzes by then. If the emperor gave the order, the subordinates would work hard for decades; it's not impossible."

That made some sense, but how did this thing end up inside the mountain? Shouldn't a ritual vessel be erected on an altar?

I thought it over but couldn't figure it out. Instead, I remembered something else and asked Old Itch, "Hey, Old Itch, if I didn't bring it up, you wouldn't even mention it. What about that tremendous benefit of yours? We've come all the way down and haven't seen anything good. This is the end of the road. Don't tell me the benefit is this bronze tree? We're not scrap collectors, even though this tree would keep a thousand scrap collectors busy for a lifetime..."

Old Itch said, "I knew you'd ask that. You think I'm lying to you? Who said there's no more road? There's still a long way to go." Then he took out a few rubber work gloves from his pocket and handed them to us, saying, "Put these on!"

I was puzzled and asked him why he was giving us gloves. What time was it to be worrying about hygiene?

Old Itch said, "Hygiene? Didn't I tell you? You can't touch this bronze tree casually. Put these on; they'll make climbing safer."

I was taken aback: "Wha... what? We have to climb up?"

Old Itch said, "We've come this far. What's a little climb? There are so many branches up there, like climbing stairs—it doesn't take much effort. If you want to see something good, come up with me. I guarantee you'll be satisfied."

I didn't mind climbing a bit, but Advisor Liang had just been scorched by the fire and was physically drained. Making him climb the tree might cost him his life. If he ended up stuck halfway, we'd have to take care of him, and we didn't have the spare energy.

I turned around to tell him he could wait below while the two of us went up, but I saw that Advisor Liang had already put on the gloves, rubbed his face vigorously, and slapped my shoulder. "It's fine. This is the last hurdle. I have to see it no matter what!"

Seeing the determination in his eyes, I knew it was useless to persuade him. I didn't waste time trying. So I tightened my backpack, raised the torch, and said to Old Itch, "Alright, I'll play along one more time. But you better think twice—if you're tricking me, I'll kick you down from here in a bit."

Old Itch rolled his eyes at me and didn't argue. He stepped onto the branch of the bronze tree first and started climbing. Advisor Liang and I followed, stepping where he stepped as we went up. The branches were spaced out just right, making climbing quite easy. As he climbed, Old Itch reminded us not to let our skin touch the bronze tree. We should treat it like a large piece of metal carrying a high-voltage current, constantly mindful of our next move. Unfortunately, this only increased our psychological pressure, making our movements more unnatural, and our hands and feet gradually stiffened.

Pressed against the bronze tree wall, I could see more clearly. These extended branches were cast together with the trunk. The joints were seamless, without any trace of forging. However, what surprised me was that the gaps between the cloud-and-thunder patterns were very deep, as if carved deep into the trunk. I couldn't see what was inside the grooves.

When we reached about seventeen or eighteen meters high, because we were too focused on our movements, we were already drenched in sweat and panting like oxen. I looked down and couldn't see the bottom of the pit, only the faint light of another torch by the door. At that height, it looked like a bottomless abyss. Then Old Itch stopped and signaled for us to rest.

Advisor Liang, as if granted a pardon, immediately crouched down. He was exhausted, his sweat was thin, his legs trembling, barely able to stand. I sat on a branch, my feet dangling in the air, feeling very unsteady. It was hard to rest properly.

Seeing we were too tense, Old Itch threw us some dry rations and told us to chew on something. He said, "You two can't go on like this. There's still over a hundred meters above us. With this stamina, we might have to spend the night on the tree. How about I tell a dirty joke to relax?"

I was too tired even to talk and cursed, "Get out of here. Aren't you tired? Look at your calves shaking. If you want to tell a dirty joke, do it yourself. I don't have the energy."

Old Itch took a bite of his cornbread and said, "Fine, I'll tell one. But first you have to answer a question, Old Wu. Say we discovered this thing—if we notified the government, could it be named after us?"

I really had no idea about that. I turned to Advisor Liang, who was still panting and waved his hand: "Esteemed Master Itch, have you ever heard of something called the 'Wang Er Mazi Square Ding' or the 'Zhao Tugen Tripod'? Historically, the discoverers of national treasures have been farmers and construction workers. If we named things after them, it would be interesting. No offense to the working people, but Chinese names don't work like Western ones. Don't you think it sounds awkward?"

Old Itch thought about it and found it somewhat reasonable. Then he asked, "But at least they'd give me the naming rights, right? Whoever discovers an island gets to name it as the first discoverer."

Advisor Liang said, "There seems to be such a rule, but I've never actually looked into it."

I asked Old Itch, "Why are you asking all this? You haven't even secured the money, and you're already thinking about fame and fortune? Don't you realize that a normal person wouldn't come to a place like this for no reason? Your purpose here is pretty obvious."

Old Itch said, "I just think this thing is pretty interesting. Look at this huge bronze pillar—what name should we give it? You guys think about it too, so we can have a consistent story when we brag later."

I didn't want to entertain such pointless thoughts at the moment and told him, "You discovered it first, so you name it. I'm not in the mood."

Old Itch looked up and said, "When I see this thing, only one word comes to mind. Look at this pillar—how about calling it 'I Love a Stick of Firewood'?"

I said irritably, "Have you been watching too many trashy movies? 'I Love a Stick of Firewood'? If you name it that, you believe lightning won't strike you when you go out?"

Old Itch laughed, and Advisor Liang also shook his head in amusement. With that laughter, we finally relaxed a bit.

After we finished eating and regained some strength, Old Itch urged us to continue. I lifted my foot to go when I suddenly noticed something odd below. I looked carefully—huh? Why had the other torch by the door gone out?

Old Itch frowned: "Could the wind down here have blown it out?"

I shook my head and said no. That torch had a huge flame, far more professional than the one I made. It couldn't possibly have been blown out by the wind. Something must have happened down there.

Just as I was thinking, suddenly the entire copper tree vibrated slightly, as if something had bumped into it. Adviser Liang gasped and quickly asked what was happening. Old Yang made a shushing gesture to us, then cupped his hand into a trumpet shape and pressed it against the copper wall. After listening for a moment, his face turned pale, and he whispered to us, "Damn it, it seems like something is coming up!"