We fell into silence subconsciously, listening carefully but discerning no sound. I questioned if he misheard, and Laowan listened again, pondering if it was just nervousness.
Without illumination flares, the flashlight could only reveal a small area, not particularly clear. No one dared to guarantee that there was nothing unclean below; in ancient times, deaths during mining were common, and the bodies were often buried on the spot.
Han Sheng remarked, "Regardless, this place is not suitable for prolonged stay."
I nodded, saying, "I also have a palpable unease; let's depart quickly."
Before leaving, I poured a cup of black dog's blood from a jar, though it was currently unnecessary. However, since those people prepared so much back then, it was undoubtedly for dealing with a certain situation, carrying a precautionary measure. Still, from the depths of my heart, I hoped that we wouldn't need to use it.
Ascending the second bamboo tower via the suspension bridge, it resembled the previous one. It appeared that the retreat was hasty. Li Xin discovered a piece of waist plate in a decaying leather armor, inscribed with both Manchu and Han Chinese seal scripts, indicating "Commander of Engineers, Garrison Commander of Yushan Town."
I was puzzled and explained to them, "Yushan has an issue. The title of 'Commander' in the Qing Dynasty holds substantial authority, following the orthodox military system. The Green Standard Army is righteous, with an official rank of at least the second rank. To put it simply, above the Commander, there is a General, roughly equivalent to today's military region commander. Therefore, the Commander is the commander-in-chief of the military region, with a rank no lower than a division commander or even a corps commander. However, 'Yushan' clearly doesn't conform to the orthodox military system, resembling a field camp, indicating an extramural arrangement."
Laowan asked, "Are you saying they are not responsible for warfare but... specifically tomb raiding?"
I nodded, "Exactly. The Qing Dynasty military system consisted of Banner troops and Han troops. The roots of the Banner troops were the Eight Banners, while the Han troops included the Green Standard, local militias, and the New Army. This Commander is the chief officer of the Yushan Garrison among the Green Standard troops. At that time, the Qing Dynasty only had sixty-some major garrisons, each with a distinguished reputation. 'Yushan' should be a field camp assigned for special tasks, and these so-called special tasks most likely involved excavating tombs."
Li Xin chimed in, "Very likely. 'Official tomb robbing' usually has two purposes: for wealth, like Cao Cao's grave-robbing army aimed to augment military funds. The other situation is for the rare treasures within the tomb. Since ancient times, in China, as much attention is paid to the dead as to the living. Unique treasures are often brought into the coffin by the deceased. So, tomb raiding becomes the only means to reveal those treasures."
Holding the waist plate, I added, "Correct. The owner of this plate should be the commander of the Engineer Battalion under the Yushan Garrison. The name suggests responsibility for excavation."
After another check, finding no useful information, we continued forward. I noticed Zhao Min still standing on the bamboo tower's railing. I approached her and pulled her, saying, "Let's go."
My touch seemed to startle her. She abruptly turned around, startling me in return. Observing her pale complexion, I asked, "What's wrong?"
She collected herself and said, "Nothing, let's go."
However, her appearance didn't convince me. While she spoke, she kept glancing towards the bamboo tower we had just crossed. I checked, but the pitch-black surroundings revealed nothing. I asked again, "Are you sure?"
She shook her head, "Really, let's go quickly."
As we ascended the suspension bridge, Han Sheng and the others had almost reached the opposite side. They were unaware of what had just happened between Zhao Min and me. As we approached, a sudden "creak" sounded from the darkness below. I instinctively stiffened, and Zhao Min froze as well. I asked her softly, "Is it from below?"
She replied, "I didn't hear it clearly."
Taking another careful step, nothing happened. I took another step, and again, a "creak" echoed. This time, I focused, pinpointing the source of the sound.
The bamboo bridge and rope were soaked in tung oil, resistant to moisture and decay. However, the connection point between the suspension bridge and bamboo tower was not treated. The sound resembled the cracking of a bamboo tube's inner curved surface, slowly fracturing longitudinally.
I breathed gently, telling Zhao Min, "Walk slowly; it seems the bamboo tube connecting to the suspension bridge is under excessive stress, likely aged."
Zhao Min acknowledged, and now, with every step, we proceeded cautiously. Han Sheng and the others, illuminated by a flashlight, signaled the direction they were heading. In the tense atmosphere, a continuous "crack, crack, crack" echoed behind us.
"Run!"
I turned and grabbed Zhao Min's hand, sprinting towards the opposite side. With the persistent cracking sound, the connection between the suspension bridge and the bamboo tower above us completely snapped, plummeting straight downward.
The immense inertia left us no time to react. In a ninety-degree turn, the entire suspension bridge slammed onto the bamboo tower where Han Sheng and the others were.
The sudden incident, the impact force unbearable, left me disoriented. A sweet taste in my throat, blood spewed out. The shock also loosened my grip, and I fell from the vertical suspension bridge. During the descent, I desperately tried to grab onto the bridge, but with no strength, I couldn't hold on. With a thud, I landed at the bottom of the mining pit. The surroundings swayed, and struggling to rise, I hastily dodged the falling debris.
After a long while, the mining pit returned to calm. A light illuminated not far from me—Zhao Min. It appeared she had also fallen down. Simultaneously, in the beam of her flashlight, I astonishingly recognized the prototype of those wooden boards—carved with black floral cloud patterns, they weren't ordinary boards but coffin lids.
My backpack remained outside, and without a flashlight, I hurried towards her. She asked, "
Did Cao Nuan send you?"
"It was me," I quickly confirmed, fearing her defensive response.
Just as I was about to tell her about the coffin lids, I noticed her uneasy expression and an unnatural touch to her left leg. Crouching down to examine, her lower leg was dripping with blood, a piece of debris embedded inside.
I suggested, "Sit down quickly; let me tend to your wound."
Seemingly weighing pros and cons, she sighed, "Fine," and slowly sat down. Taking out a simple first aid kit from her bag, she handed it to me, saying, "Just a simple treatment will do."
I needed to extract the wood chip to prevent infection. Her pants were the tight-fitting sporty kind, and pulling them up would undoubtedly touch the wood chip. I tried lifting the pants around the wound area gently. Still, as the material was like a windbreaker fabric, applying some force resulted in tearing the pant leg all the way to her thigh. I felt a bit awkward, glancing at her pale skin.
Apologizing, I said, "Sorry, bear with it."
I took out tweezers and alcohol wipes from the kit. Remarkably, she bravely observed the entire process as if I was tending to my own leg. After removing the wood chip, I cleaned the wound with alcohol wipes, sprayed it with Yunnan Baiyao aerosol, and finally, wrapped her leg. Completing these tasks, I finally sighed in relief and asked, "How is it?"
Blushing, she pulled her leg back, tying the torn pant leg with a piece of rope from her bag. I was about to offer help, but seeing the "cheongsam-like" torn pant leg, I decided against it.
Raising the flashlight to signal above, Han Sheng and the others responded. Zhao Min, beside me, remarked, "I have a walkie-talkie in my bag; try it."
I took out the walkie-talkie, thinking about how to inform them of the channel. Suddenly, a rhythmic "drip-drip" sound echoed from the walkie-talkie. Regular and water-like, it shifted abruptly to an ear-piercing static. In this pitch-black and silent place, the sudden sound scared me; I quickly turned off the walkie-talkie.
Zhao Min immediately asked, "Did you hear that?"
Rubbing my ears, I said, "Almost deaf now; of course, I heard it."
"No," she said hastily, "the initial sound, like dripping water."
After a moment of thought, I recalled, "Remember, that sound..." At the same time, I looked towards Han Sheng and the others on the bamboo tower. It was strange; there was no dripping water there. So, where did the sound come from? I had a flash of insight. "I got it. It's Dàtóu and the others. Zhao Jun also has a walkie-talkie on him."
Zhao Min nodded. "Yes, and they're not far from us. There should be water nearby."
Crack!
My instinctive nerves jumped, and I looked subconsciously. Although I couldn't see, I was well aware that this troublesome sound came from the bamboo tower. Due to the impact of the collapsed suspension bridge, this century-old bamboo tower had reached a state of oversaturation in tension. A minor pressure could lead to a complete collapse.
Above, Laowan and the others also realized the instability of the bamboo tower beneath their feet. A flashlight illuminated their bamboo tower, indicating the path they intended to take. I wobbled the flashlight to signal acknowledgment; we would cross from below.
I helped Zhao Min stand up and asked if she could walk. She tested it and claimed it was okay. I told her the direction Laowan and the others were heading was to our left. Since we were below, there was no need to turn; we could go straight. However, Zhao Min grabbed me, insisting we take the right side.
Observing her complexion and recalling her expression on the bamboo tower, I felt she was hiding something. I asked, "What's really going on?"
Zhao Min was not someone who hesitated, but at this moment, she seemed torn, sighing before saying, "Okay, I'm not sure either. When I swept the previous bamboo tower with the flashlight, it seemed like I saw a person. No, not a person—how do I put it? Not a normal person. His head was weird, somewhat like..."
I relaxed my arms, letting them hang to the sides, tilting my head to almost ninety degrees. "Like this?"
She covered her mouth and nodded. "How did you know?"
Damn!
I cursed internally. It was indeed that ghostly thing. I had encountered it when guarding outside the valley at night. I hadn't expected it to follow us. I briefly described what I saw that night, and Zhao Min nodded in understanding. "So, it came out from the accompanying burial pit?"
"Who knows? Let's meet up with them first. Honestly, this place gives me a bad feeling. I'm getting a bit panicky."
Circling around from the right side, laden with coffin lids covering the ground, we nearly turned the area below into a maze.
These coffins were definitely not brought in from outside. Without surprises, they were likely the ones dug out by the Qing Dynasty "Yushan" group from Fox Demon King's tomb. What baffled me was how Fox Demon King's tomb could have so many coffins.
Ordinarily, imperial tombs wouldn't have a surplus of coffins. Only the tomb owner and the closest companions would have coffins. Was Fox Demon King burying all his aunts and uncles? Moreover, according to the wild history provided by Laowan, Fox Demon King eventually ascended to the heavens with the "Old Immortal" they dug out from the tomb. So, what was the point of putting all these coffins in there?
Aside from that, a crucial question lingered. This place should function as a hub, like a courier distribution center, where coffins from various mining areas were brought together. But where were the corpses inside the coffins? Fox Demon King wouldn't be so bored as to bury empty coffins, right? Also, why were so many coffins broken open forcefully, piled up everywhere?
The most straightforward answer would be that the group took the bodies along with the coffins. As they dug out the coffins, they simultaneously processed the bodies inside. However, this explanation didn't add up. If they were processing them, why move the coffins too? Why not handle the bodies directly, without transporting the coffins? The answer seemed to be only one—there was something wrong with the bodies!