The sound I heard sent shivers down my spine. Typically, I am not an excessively timid individual. This stems from the fact that in the first half of my life, I was a staunch atheist. I knew that ancient heavenly fire was merely meteorites, Chang'e's destination was a moon with a diameter of over three thousand kilometers, and the Calabash Brothers were just seven vegetables skilled at frying eggs. Tai Bai Venus might indeed be very white, but that was only portrayed in television dramas. I use an iPhone, read "The Three-Body Problem," and stroll through malls filled with electronic screens. Thus, I firmly believe there are no ghosts or gods in this world. However, in this tomb, my faith was shattered, bruised by too many inexplicable things that science failed to convince me.
The sound of iron chains scraping against the ground became the last straw, utterly overwhelming my tense nerves. Initially, I intended to stand still with my eyes closed, but the faint light from the flashlight revealed a gradually rising black shadow on the mural. This intensified my anxiety, for I did not wish to die. Perhaps, it was a surge of survival instinct that compelled me to subconsciously fling the stainless steel water bottle from my backpack side pocket. The stainless steel bottle struck the ground, bouncing a couple of times with a resounding and crisp echo reverberating throughout the tomb chamber. Simultaneously, I sprinted towards the stone statues on the opposite side.
Regardless of what lurked behind me, after spending so long in the pitch-black tomb chamber, my eyes might have degraded to blindness, but my hearing was impeccable. Employing this diversionary tactic was a gamble. I swiftly reached a stone carving, and as I suspected, the entity pursued in the direction of the fallen thermos. I hid behind the stone carving, motionless. Within seconds, the "clanging" sound of iron chains echoed again in the darkness.
Events unfolded too rapidly for me to contemplate. I pulled out my phone and tossed it away. With a jarring "bang" and a subsequent dragging sound, the entity swiftly moved in that direction. Seizing the opportunity, I crouched and slipped into the intricate arrangement of stone carvings. I reckoned that even if the entity followed, navigating through this maze would take time, affording me a precious chance to escape.
The statues were not small; the shorter ones were over two meters tall, while the larger ones were estimated to be nearly twenty feet. Nervously, I hid behind a stone eagle carving in a soaring posture—a perfect cover unless it circled around to the tail end, making it difficult to spot me beneath the feathers. Once again, the sound of iron chains approached, this time from afar. Realizing this was not a sustainable strategy, I glanced upward. The layered wings of the eagle seemed climbable. Using the stone carving base as support, I began ascending. I was curious to see what this entity was.
As I ascended, I spotted a dead person lying on the eagle's back—completely motionless. Before I could overcome my surprise, the lifeless figure slowly lifted its head, casting a gaze in my direction. Suddenly, it reached for my ankle, pulling me down. Just as I was about to exclaim in shock, its hand covered my mouth. In a hushed tone, it whispered in my ear, "Don't speak."
Hearing that voice sent a shiver down my spine, and to my astonishment, I felt a warmth. Unexpectedly, even the deceased could provide such comfort. Brother, if I make it out alive, I'll definitely offer you a few golden chains and a small car. No, something wasn't right; this voice sounded familiar. Surprised, I realized the person was none other than Liangzi!
He was still wearing a wetsuit, and his face seemed a bit bruised. Clearly, my presence had caught him off guard in this situation. However, he made a gesture for silence, pointing at the approaching colossal shadow from the opposite side.
Both of us crouched on the back of the stone eagle, observing the creature slowly entering our field of view. I involuntarily gasped; if I made it out alive, the scene before me would provide stories for a lifetime. How to describe this creature? A dragon, because I genuinely couldn't find any other words. Its body was covered in scales, jet black and palm-sized each, resembling a snake's body. As it slithered out of the darkness, its body probably exceeded twenty meters. I even glimpsed a pair of eagle claws, a horse's face, and a square mouth. However, its head was adorned with a bronze mask, preventing me from seeing its full appearance. It was enough to leave an indelible impression, and while I expected a colossal snake or python, the emergence of this creature completely overturned my preconceptions.
I dared not even breathe. This creature was massive, with a tail stretching over ten meters and four limbs on the ground. Could it be that the Wumon King had indeed raised a dragon?
Wait, something was amiss. I reminded myself that this couldn't be a dragon; such creatures didn't exist in reality. They were mere fabrications of ancient imaginations. While I was lost in these thoughts, Liangzi nudged me and raised his eyebrows. He pulled out a signal gun, pointed at me, then at himself, and raised three fingers to begin a countdown. With the final count, he fired a shot towards the dark area across from us. The creature, dubiously described as a dragon, swiftly turned its attention to the falling illumination and rushed in that direction. Seizing the moment, Liangzi promptly stood up, jumped down from the stone eagle, and ran. I quickly followed suit.
He skillfully maneuvered through various stone carvings, heading towards the deeper part of the tomb. Near the back, next to several stone carvings, there was a hole over a meter wide. A mountaineering rope was coiled next to it, with one end tied to
the stone carving base and the other hanging down. Liangzi pointed at the rope, saying, "Hurry, that thing is cold-blooded and temperature-sensitive. Once the flare goes out, it will come."
Seeing his urgency, I refrained from asking more and climbed down the rope. Unexpectedly, this large tomb had an underground layer, and the vertical passage on both sides was constructed with regular brick remnants. It was methodically dismantled layer by layer, forming an inverted tomb structure. This seemed to be a counter-digging tomb, likely the work of Liangzi and his team.
Liangzi also descended, and with a tug on the rope, he gestured for me to follow him. This mysterious underground world was another tomb chamber, similar in structure to the one above. Ancient constructions during the Tang Dynasty strictly adhered to symmetry principles, typically arranged along a north-south axis. However, this burial seemed exceptionally peculiar, aligning directly above and below.
Liangzi turned around, grinned at me, and remarked, "Never expected it would be you up there. Honestly, I thought I'd never see you again. The first time underground, circled such a vast area alone, and emerged unscathed. Quite impressive."
Perplexed, I asked, "Vast area? What do you mean?"
Liangzi, surprised by my ignorance, smiled and gave me a thumbs up. "Impressive, man. I really underestimated you."
Calculating in my mind, I must have covered such a distance only within that labyrinthine cave system. Moreover, now we were in a burial chamber, and according to Liangzi, it was over thirty kilometers away from our entry point. He chuckled and continued, "You don't know? Our current location is more than thirty kilometers from where we dove in."
Realizing my lack of knowledge, he gestured enthusiastically, "Incredible, truly. I never thought I'd meet you here. After that lone exploration in the maze-like cave system, you've made it this far unscathed. Hats off."
I pondered for a moment. Most likely, I traversed such a distance only within that labyrinthine cave system. Now, our underground location had possibly shifted from the original cave network. The terrain here consistently featured mountains and interconnected caves. As Liangzi said, surviving to reach this point was indeed a miracle. I questioned him about how they ended up here, and Liangzi sighed, expressing the complexity of their journey. He signaled me to follow him, promising that I'd understand once we reached our destination.
Leading the way with the lantern, he walked along the wall. Based on their exploration, they discovered a similar layout below, mirroring the structure above. My surprise increased as my hand traced the icy cold tomb wall. This seemed to be a rare "Morning Ascension Tomb." This term was used in the northern regions and denoted tombs with two closely spaced layers. In ancient times, many influential figures aimed to become immortals and ancestors. Being interred in such a tomb symbolized ascension to the heavens and the earth—a spiritual transformation.
The "Morning Ascension Tomb" was more prevalent during the Han Dynasty, when vertical burial pits were common. Due to the limited lateral space, they often consisted of two layers. In recent times, such tombs were a rarity. However, considering the size of this tomb, if it indeed comprised two layers, it would rival the grandeur of the Qin mausoleum. Something didn't add up, though. This tomb exhibited distinct features of a minority ethnic group and adhered to the orderly and unified style of the Tang Dynasty. It contradicted the notion of a Han Dynasty emperor's tomb.
Sensing my perplexity, Liangzi revealed a secret. "Do you know? This tomb isn't just two layers."
I exclaimed, and he pointed downwards, mentioning that there was another layer beneath our feet, resembling the upper two layers. Before I could fully absorb this revelation, he dropped another bombshell, "Moreover, Second Master speculates that the lower layer might be constructed using the 'Huangchang Tiqou' method."
"Huangchang Tiqou" was an ancient burial practice prevalent from the early Zhou Dynasty to the late Han Dynasty. It involved constructing a sturdy wooden structure, and when made with stripped yellow cypress wood, it was termed "Huangchang." The burial mound created using peeled yellow cypress wood was referred to as "Tiqou." The term "Huangchang Tiqou" was also known as the "Seven-Layer Tomb"—a tomb for an emperor.
This revelation struck me as peculiar. After the Han Dynasty, the "Huangchang Tiqou" method had fallen out of favor. Why would it reappear in a tomb associated with a Tang Dynasty regional king, especially when the burial followed the distinct features of the Tang era, with elements of a local Dong ethnic tomb? It raised an odd mystery surrounding this colossal tomb buried within the mountain.
Scratching my head, I found this tomb concealed within the mountain to be enigmatic, leaving me utterly confounded. As I contemplated the riddles surrounding this massive tomb, Liangzi suddenly halted. Unprepared, I nearly collided with him. Giving him a light pat on the back, I asked, "Hey, what's going on? Is there no way forward?"
He hesitated for a moment, seemingly uncertain about something. Shaking his head, he reassured me that everything was fine and resumed leading the way. However, after walking a few steps, he stopped again inexplicably, causing me to almost bump into him. Slightly irritated, I asked, "Liangzi, what's going on? Is there no path ahead?"
Furrowing his brows, he suddenly lowered his voice and said, "Not in front, but perhaps behind. Don't turn around; listen carefully."
I strained my ears but heard nothing unusual. Liangzi signaled me to follow him, so I curiously trailed behind. However, after a few steps, cold sweat started trickling down my face. Liangzi seemed indecisive about something. Damn it, within this tomb passage, apart from our footsteps, there seemed to be another sound—a soft, dragging noise, like the rustling of a gown sweeping the ground. It was easy to overlook, but careful listening revealed that it emanated from behind me. It was as if someone, draped in a long robe, was stealthily following us—matching our pace, stopping when we stopped, and moving when we moved.