Chapter 20: 19. Rice Grave (Please follow and read!)

19. Rice Grave (Please follow and read!)

In the dim, heavy inner room, the coffin-pusher hid behind a coffin, his face unseen.

The bare-chested fat man pried off the lid boards of two coffins.

Zhou Chang noticed that neither coffin had been lacquered; between the wood grain covering them, faint blue-green mildew spots had begun to grow.

"Little lad, are you going to climb into the coffin yourself, or shall we carry you into it?" The fat man was quite genial, smiling as he spoke to Stone Egg, "Don't worry, everyone who comes here to treat madness and hysteria lies in these coffins and gets carried down to the cellar pool beneath the 'Rice Grave.' Nothing will happen."

Stone Egg looked at the coffin, its interior pitch-black and utterly impossible to see into, and a clear look of fear surfaced in his eyes.

That fearful look, when Zhou Chang's gaze fell on him, was forcibly suppressed once more.

But a young man's composure is never deep enough; Zhou Chang took one look and spotted the tell. Lying on the ground, he laughed and said: "Uncle-master, didn't you come here precisely to cure the madness on your own body?

Don't be afraid. Just lie down in the coffin, leave the deluded thoughts and sick Qi in the cellar pool here, and once you're cured, everything will be fine."

"That's right, the Wen Yongsheng cellar pool is very effective for treating hysteria and madness. Most people who think they've gone mad stay here a day, and whatever madness they had is gone." The fat man grinned foolishly, echoing Zhou Chang's words.

Stone Egg braced himself and nodded, saying: "Alright, alright, I'll do it myself…"

As he spoke, the youth walked with great difficulty toward one of the coffins. After several attempts he still couldn't climb over the coffin's side; it was only when the fat man beside him reached out and propped up his rear that he tumbled into the coffin and lay flat inside it.

The fat man then walked over to Zhou Chang's side, smiling: "Looks like I'll just have to lift you into the coffin myself."

Zhou Chang nodded his thanks: "Much obliged."

"No trouble, no trouble." The fat man chuckled, bent low, hoisted Zhou Chang onto his shoulder, and carried him toward the other coffin.

A heavy, sour, rancid smell of fermented mash brewed inside the coffin. As the fat man lifted Zhou Chang over the coffin's edge, Zhou Chang's gaze fell on the unlacquered coffin bottom and saw a blue-black, mildew-covered human-shaped imprint.

This was…

A faint light flickered in Zhou Chang's eyes.

The mildew-covered human-shaped outline on the coffin bottom looked as if it had been left behind by a corpse's fluids seeping out and soaking into the wood grain!

Once the fat man turned Zhou Chang's body over, that human-shaped imprint vanished from his view.

He lay down inside the outline of that human shape.

The stench of mash, the smell of mildew, and all manner of bodily odors left by previous occupants mingled together, rushing straight into Zhou Chang's nostrils. Amid these various stenches, he picked out a faint thread of rotting smell.

A putrid stench like that of a dead rat, hidden beneath the many other odors, was already extremely faint, but once he singled it out, that wisp of rot felt profound and gloomy.

"Someone has died in this coffin!

Ah! Don't close it, don't put the lid on yet!"

Suddenly, in the silent, flat-roofed great hall, Stone Egg's panicked shouts rang out.

He pushed himself up from inside the coffin, half-sitting within it, his eyes sweeping the surroundings in terror, until his gaze finally settled on the fat man: "I smelled the stench of a rotting corpse in the coffin!

There's a corpse-mark on the bottom!

Someone has died in this coffin! I can't lie here, I can't—"

The fat man, who had been quite affable before, upon hearing Stone Egg's panicked shouting, immediately let his face fall: "Don't talk nonsense!

These coffins are made specifically for people like you who've gone mad with hysteria. The human mark on the bottom is just sweat left behind by those who came before you!

If you can smell a rotting corpse, I'd say your sickness is a serious one, and needs proper treatment!

Wen San'er, hold him down and put the lid on!"

The moment the fat man's words fell, the cart-pusher who had been hidden behind Stone Egg's coffin, as if he had vanished, abruptly rose up out of the darkness!

He stretched out hands like iron pincers and pressed Stone Egg, who had sat up, back down into the coffin!

Boom!

The coffin boards snapped shut!

From inside, Stone Egg's cries for help and pleas kept coming, along with the sound of him pounding on the coffin lid.

"What a racket!"

The fat man cursed viciously. He lowered his eyelids and glared at Zhou Chang, who lay in the coffin beside him: "If you're going to make a fuss like him too, I'd better put the lid on you as well, sooner rather than later."

"He's young, he doesn't understand." Zhou Chang lay in the coffin, his voice slow and calm. "Our elders spent so much effort to get us a work-ticket to enter the cellar pool for treatment. No matter what, we have to stay in this cellar pool and get cured.

If we start clamoring to leave the moment we arrive, wouldn't that waste the elders' painstaking efforts?

Don't worry, I won't make a fuss like him."

"Right, right, you're a bit older than him, you do understand things better!" The fat man heartily agreed with Zhou Chang's words, nodding again and again, and the look he gave Zhou Chang returned to its former warmth. "In that case, I won't put the lid on you for now. Let you get a bit more air."

"Many thanks, many thanks." Zhou Chang's pupils rolled in their sockets, and he added, "Could you help me sit up, let me sit in the coffin and see what the Rice Grave looks like?"

Zhou Chang's deferential manner, addressing the fat man as 'sir' with every breath, pleased the fat man immensely.

In ordinary days, the fat man was never short of people who tried to curry favor with him, but someone as genteel in his flattery as Zhou Chang, he had never met—not one. The men of the Wen family were indeed learned and refined, every one of them, but how would their masters ever be polite to a servant like him?

So when the fat man heard Zhou Chang's request, he didn't hesitate, and agreed at once: "Nothing wrong with wanting a look at the novelty. Come, I'll help you up."

As he spoke, he truly helped Zhou Chang up, letting him sit inside the coffin.

"Let's go."

The fat man waved to the two cart-pushers.

The wheels of the cart beneath the coffins began to turn again, and a muffled, heavy sound rang out in the dim inner courtyard.

Zhou Chang sat in the coffin, his gaze sweeping over the various furnishings in the great hall. Apart from empty wine jars piled everywhere, only the 'Rice Grave,' flanked by a host of pillars, stood out conspicuously, constantly drawing Zhou Chang's attention.

Dense, snow-white fungal threads sprouted and drifted over the grave-like mountain of grain, intertwining with one another and forming a hard crust across the surface of this 'Rice Grave.'

Before the Rice Grave, the tombstone of 'Wen Laozu' stood silently.

Behind the Rice Grave, there was a deep, dark tunnel built up of mud bricks.

The two coffins were pushed into that tunnel, one ahead of the other.

The cart rolled down a long, gentle slope. On either side of the slope, on platforms built up of yellow-mud bricks, stood row upon row of 'Rice Graves'—though among these many Rice Graves, only a few could give rise to snow-white fungal threads.

Most of the Rice Graves still retained the original state of their various grains, with no fungal threads sprouting.

And even among the few Rice Graves that had grown fungal threads, most were a filthy blue-green, rarely showing a color as white as snow.

Before the numerous rice mounds, stone tablets stood tall as well.

'Wen Zhao Lin', 'Wen Zhao Feng'...

'Wen Xing Ren', 'Wen Xing Yi'...

'Wen Si Zu', 'Wen Si Ming'...

The long, gentle slope gradually changed direction, winding downward.

"Look, buried in these rice mound fermentation pits are either people like you who claimed to suffer from madness and hysteria, or objects that people found strange." The fat man pointed to the rice mounds on both sides of the slope, speaking to Zhou Chang. His voice sounded chilling and eerie in this deep underground fermentation cellar. "Most people were actually not ill; the mountain of grain piled atop them showed no change at all.

Only a few people truly suffered from madness, developing delusions. The grain mountains burying them began to grow mycelium, slowly turning into rice mounds.

The rice mounds are the wine yeast of the Yongsheng Winery.

The reason why these mad people, by lying in piles of grain, could expel their delusions, causing the grain to grow mycelium and turn into wine yeast, is because our Yongsheng Winery's 'Gan Chun Qu' is at work.

Gan Chun Qu exists only within Wen Laozu's rice mound."

"Those tombstones..." Zhou Chang's gaze swept across the rice mounds on both sides of the slope. The further down they went, the more mottled the stone skin on the tablets before the rice mounds became, filled with the marks of time.

"Those are wine brand names!"

The fat man interrupted Zhou Chang's words.

Regarding Zhou Chang's claim that the stone slabs inscribed with 'Wen 【Name】' before the rice mounds were tombstones, the fat man was quite superstitious. He glared at Zhou Chang in displeasure, pointing to a stone slab on one side of the slope inscribed with 'Wen Lin Quan', and said: "The Wen Lin Quan fermentation pit specializes in producing 'Lin Quan Old Wine'; the Wen Lin Zhang fermentation pit specializes in producing 'Lin Zhang Ten-Year Aged Wine'..."

Zhou Chang nodded and said no more.

To him, these so-called fermentation pits stretching from the ground surface down into the earth looked increasingly like graves.

No matter how the fat man explained, it was difficult to make him believe even a fraction.

Among the Wen family's ancestors, were there any named Wen Lin Quan, Wen Lin Zhang, or Wen Zhao Lin?

If such people truly existed, could it be that their destinations after death formed one of the fermentation pits beneath this massive rice mound of Wen Laozu?

And what exactly caused these people to die?

As the handcart approached the very bottom, Zhou Chang shifted his eyes downward to look—the bottom was still pitch black, only the air around had become increasingly cold and damp. Occasionally, earth and stones kicked up by the fat man and the two cart-pushers fell into the pitch-black cellar floor, and Zhou Chang could hear the faint sound of water.

There must be a water source at the very bottom of Wen Laozu's rice mound.

"There are no empty pits here either...

Is the cellar so full today?" The fat man glanced around. Even though they were now nearing the lowest level of the cellar, rice mounds were still piled atop several fermentation pits on both sides of the slope, with slightly yellowed mycelium trembling gently in the cold air.

The rice mounds here had all fermented mycelium and were gradually being cultivated into wine yeast.

The red string on Zhou Chang's wrist remained motionless.

The wine yeast here seemed unable to provoke its interest; it preferred to draw the aroma of wine from finished liquor.

"You two are quite lucky." The fat man glanced at Zhou Chang and Shi Danzi's coffin, then waved his hand, signaling the people behind to continue pushing the carts. He, with his hands behind his back, led the two handcarts into the very bottom of the cellar.

Splash, splash...

The sound of water grew closer, almost ringing right beside Zhou Chang's ear.

Zhou Chang lowered his gaze to the side—between the naturally formed stone layers at the cellar floor, there was a spring no larger than a human head. The splashing sound was emanating from this living spring.

Beside this living spring were two fermentation pits that looked freshly excavated.

Inside the pits lay two brand-new wooden coffins.

Before the pits stood two stone tablets with clear inscriptions—Wen Yong Xing, Wen Yong Sheng!

"The reason why the Gan Chun Qu of the Yongsheng Winery can make people ferment their delusions into the grain to create yeast is because of this sweet spring that Wen Laozu discovered back then!

You two are truly fortunate—this year, we only excavated two additional fermentation pits beside the sweet spring, and very few people have been treated for madness in these two pits.

You've got a bargain!"

The fat man patted Zhou Chang's shoulder and asked him: "You are the more obedient one, so you may choose a pit first. Which one do you choose?"

Zhou Chang's gaze lingered between the two pits that were obviously freshly excavated. After a moment, he replied: "Wen Yong Sheng."

"Good!"

The fat man nodded, reached out, and carried Zhou Chang out of the coffin.

Carrying Zhou Chang, he walked to the fermentation pit where the 'Wen Yong Sheng' tombstone stood. The two cart-pushers, who had always been hiding and avoiding letting anyone see their true faces, now squatted down and opened the lid of the coffin inside the pit.

Zhou Chang saw that on the bottom of this brand-new wooden coffin, there was still a greenish-black human-shaped mark.

A stronger smell of rotting flesh emanated from the human-shaped mark.

He was then laid down inside the coffin.

The cart-pushers at both ends of the coffin slowly pushed the lid shut. As they closed the lid, they occasionally stuck their heads out to glance at Zhou Chang inside the coffin—Zhou Chang saw them too; beneath their messy, grass-like hair were two rotten faces covered in scars from knives and burns!

Boom!

The coffin lid finally closed.

Thin, slightly white and transparent threads adhered to the tiny gaps between the coffin lid and the rim of the coffin.

—The red string on Zhou Chang's wrist held no interest in the wine yeast here, but the thought-threads in his brow were deeply touched by the rice mounds here.

Splash! Splash...

Zhou Chang, lying in the coffin, heard the sound of grain repeatedly smashing onto the coffin lid from outside.

He deduced that the grain mountain piled high over the fermentation pit where he and Shi Danzi were located was gradually rising.

This sound lasted for a while, then abruptly ceased.

After a long time passed, Zhou Chang heard the fat man's shouting voice coming from a very, very distant direction: "Begin fermentation!"

The voice echoed down from high above, swirling within the vast, deep, and winding cellar, forming layers upon layers of echoes—each echo shifted its tone, transforming from the fat man's voice into the different voices of men, women, old, and young:

"Begin fermentation!"

"Begin fermentation!"

"Begin fermentation!"

The eerie, swirling echoes, in that instant, seemed to stir up an imperceptible wind within the cellar. This wind swept over every rice mound and grain mountain in the cellar, causing the mycelium on the rice mounds to grow denser, and causing mycelium to gradually form on some of the grain mountains!

This gust of wind likewise swept over Zhou Chang's shell!

On the grain mountain covering Wen Yongsheng's fermentation cellars, clumps of snow-white mycelium began to grow wildly!

The grave mountain formed from mixed grains gradually turned into a white mountain of rice!

Beneath the rice mountain!

The threads of thought belonging to Zhou Chang coiled upward, sinking deep into the rice grave of his own self; thread by thread, the thought threads shifted from transparent to blood-red!