Chapter 143: How About Acting Like A Human Being?
Lao Yang stuck his head down, shone the flashlight around to observe, and the cave had a deep trail. The flashlight beam couldn’t reach the end. But if there were no accidents, this should be the place he came out of three years ago.
The reason for using the word “should” was that Lao Yang himself wasn’t sure. He claimed that when he came out, he was distraught and basically stumbled out in a daze following instinct, barely remembering what happened on the road, with very fuzzy memories.
Wu Xie found it very strange upon hearing this: “This is very strange. If you’re so sure you came out from here, you don’t remember this huge pile of coffins? You don’t even remember such a high cliff? If you don’t remember how you felt your way out, how can you be sure you can go straight down from the cave?”
Lao Yang gave him an apologetic grin, looking like he couldn’t smile: “If I knew, I could lead the way right now!”
But now it seemed there was only this one path to take. Wu Xie saw Lin Yan nod slightly at him, so he didn’t pursue further, turned on the flashlight, and prepared to go in first.
Just as he was about to step in with one foot, he remembered something: “Lao Yang remembers it all hazily. Master Liang, do you know how to go next?”
Master Liang had just recovered from his extreme shock when he heard someone call his name and instinctively shuddered: “What’s wrong? Who’s calling me?”
Wu Xie saw his distraught appearance and although felt a bit reluctant, this concerned everyone’s lives. Relying solely on Lao Yang for guidance might lead them anywhere, so it was safer to ask: “I’m asking, do you know what part of the tomb this is, and where to go next?”
Master Liang’s lips opened and closed, unable to utter a word despite three prompts. While he trembled, Uncle Tai quietly disappeared into the darkness beside them.
Wu Xie and Lao Yang didn’t notice, but Lin Yan had been keeping an eye on Uncle Tai, fearing he might pull some trick. Seeing Wu Xie and Lao Yang still entangled with Master Liang, he quietly followed, to see what Uncle Tai was up to.
Uncle Tai turned off his flashlight, pulled out a waterproof fire starter and shook it. With that tiny flame, he walked toward a coffin about ten meters from them. Lin Yan turned off his flashlight and followed. With the light, he wasn’t afraid of losing him. If Uncle Tai tried anything, he figured with the little white zombie’s intimidation and his own strength, he could handle it.
Lin Yan didn’t notice that as he and Uncle Tai walked farther, Wu Xie and the others’ voices faded within a few meters. Everything behind gradually submerged into darkness, leaving only Lin Yan and the Uncle Tai he was following.
Lin Yan kept a cautious several meters from Uncle Tai, never fixing his gaze on him but observing with peripheral vision. He had read an article before: experiments show people react to others’ gazes, so for tailing or surveillance, it’s best not to look directly at the target.
They walked and stopped like this. Lin Yan felt his tracking skills were indeed crude and wasn’t sure if Uncle Tai had noticed him following. But after observing several nearby coffins, Uncle Tai walked toward the most intact-looking ones.
After finally selecting one coffin, he placed the fire starter aside, half-squatted by the coffin in a strange pose, stayed still for a moment, then reached out to pry the coffin lid aside.
Lin Yan panicked at the sight. Though unsure if this guy was like Fatty, this coffin lid couldn’t be pried casually!
No longer minding the tracking, he emerged from behind Uncle Tai, hurriedly grabbed his hand, and lowered his voice: “What are you doing? What if you release a zombie?”
Uncle Tai seemed unsurprised by his presence and didn’t struggle when grabbed by the wrist, just turned his head and smiled at him: “Don’t worry, Young Celestial Master. I just want to verify my hypothesis. In this coffin I chose, the contents have probably turned to white bones.”
Hearing him call him Young Celestial Master gave Lin Yan goosebumps inexplicably: “Don’t call me Young Celestial Master; I’m not used to it. Lin Yan or any other name is fine.”
At his words, Uncle Tai seemed to misunderstand something again. In the dim firelight, Lin Yan saw Uncle Tai’s gaze filled with thoughts like “As expected of the Young Celestial Master, trying to hide his identity? His companions don’t even know? Looks like these two aren’t that close to the Young Celestial Master” and a series of strange ideas, giving Lin Yan goosebumps.
He paused, then cautiously probed: “Then, Young Lin brother?”
Lin Yan could hardly stand it, but to maintain his image in front of Uncle Tai, this change in address was acceptable. It wasn’t like he could tell Uncle Tai directly, oh, you got it wrong, I’m just an ordinary guy with a bit more strength and a weird pet, not the expert you imagine, right? Better if others held some awe for him.
He slowly reached out to stroke the little white zombie’s head and said flatly: “Fine then. And… don’t get any ideas about my friends, or else.” He lifted his eyelids to glance at Uncle Tai. Uncle Tai was stunned, met his gaze for a moment, then lowered his head: “Okay.”
His tone mixed relief and regret, somewhat complex.
Lin Yan didn’t expect one sentence to dispel all the tomb raider veteran’s little schemes, but it should make him more restrained. From his attitude, he at least held deep reverence for the Taoist lineage, which extended to him. Or rather, he couldn’t bear the retaliation from that lineage, so he avoided conflicting with Lin Yan.
For them, this was good. Provided no overly tempting items appeared, or he might risk it all and try something to take them out—like the bronze tree?
Though very curious why Uncle Tai was so secretive about that lineage, now he needed to figure out why Uncle Tai wanted to open the coffin lid: “If it’s for grave goods, there must be better ones inside the tomb. Why open this coffin lid?”
Uncle Tai looked down at the coffin lid and gave a wry smile: “I just want to verify a guess.”
“What guess?”
“I’ve traveled far and wide these years, relying on my age and experience, so I’ve seen a lot. I’ve seen Miao people’s cave burials before, but they always felt different from here. After coming in, I’ve had this uncomfortable feeling that grows stronger the deeper we go. I didn’t say it before because nothing happened, but now that we’re going down, I want to figure out what’s going on!”
With that, Uncle Tai exerted force and lifted one corner of the wooden board used as the coffin lid. A musty wood smell and human decay stench hit them. He turned his head away, held his breath, and squinted inside.
“What’s wrong?”
From Lin Yan’s view, Uncle Tai lifted the board corner and froze, holding the pose for nearly half a minute, which was odd.
Could he have been hit by something?
Lin Yan’s hand quietly slipped into his pocket, ready to shake the bell if Uncle Tai didn’t react soon. Luckily, Uncle Tai wasn’t under any illusion but overloaded by complex information.
He took a deep breath, exerted force, and lifted the entire wooden board, revealing the corpse bones below. Seeing him fine, Lin Yan quietly relaxed, loosening his grip on the bell in his pocket, and leaned in to look at the corpse bones in the coffin.
“This is…” Seeing the scene inside, Lin Yan frowned; even he, who had seen the eerie smiling mummy, was a bit baffled.
It wasn’t that the corpse bones were abnormal, but too normal, making Uncle Tai’s earlier reaction abnormal.
Lin Yan looked at Uncle Tai questioningly, but Uncle Tai seriously observed the corpse bones without looking back. Lin Yan watched in horror as he examined it like an autopsy, without gloves, his right hand roaming over the nearly rotted-clean bones, fingers tracing the corpse surface, whether covered by cloth scraps or not.
This corpse bones were relatively complete; compared to the neighbor where board and bones were crushed together, it was much better, leaving more clues. Uncle Tai almost lay on the corpse bones. Lin Yan feared he might slip and face-plant right in.
Just thinking about it was disgustingly nauseating, right?
Uncle Tai seemed oblivious, standing up after nearly two minutes, exhaling, and staring blankly at the dense coffins around.
“What’s going on exactly?”
Lin Yan was getting curious. He could tell Uncle Tai had uncovered some huge secret but planned to keep it hidden, his gaze toward the surroundings revealing shock and confusion.
Uncle Tai turned at his voice, looking at him, hesitating to speak.
After a long pause, he replied: “I need to open another coffin to confirm.”
Without waiting for Lin Yan, he picked up the fire starter and walked deeper, looking around for another relatively intact coffin. Lin Yan hesitated, unsure if to follow. Seeing Uncle Tai almost out of sight, the faint firelight weakening after a few meters, he chased after.
They were already here; no matter what, he had to see. Besides, even if Uncle Tai had ulterior motives, one-on-one without a gun, he shouldn’t be at a disadvantage? And Uncle Tai didn’t seem like he was deceiving him.
He was usually confident in his face-reading and mind-reading ability, but Zhang Qiling was an exception, and he wondered if others could fool him too, so he had some doubts about it now.
After two quick steps to catch up, he saw Uncle Tai stop and turn toward a coffin nearby.
There were plenty of coffins here; finding a relatively intact one was easy.
Same process, but Uncle Tai was much quicker this time, directly lifting the wooden board. Sure enough, inside was another corpse bones nearly rotted to just bones. Some parts of the surface had shredded clothing, some blackened flesh. Good thing there were no corpse beetles here, or it would’ve been gnawed clean, maybe not even bones left.
Uncle Tai began inching over the corpse bones carefully, but this examination was much shorter, only dozens of seconds before he concluded.
“…How is that possible?”
As if hit by a huge shock, Uncle Tai staggered back a step, then casually flipped a half-rotted nearby coffin: “…It really is?”
Lin Yan’s curiosity peaked, wishing Uncle Tai would just reveal the answer: “What’s going on? What did you see?”
He looked too; how could nothing be seen? “Isn’t this just ordinary corpse bones?”
Uncle Tai snapped out of it: “…The corpse bones are ordinary, but their identities are not.”
He picked up a black fragment and asked Lin Yan: “Do you know what this is?”
Lin Yan leaned in; it looked like feather material: “What? Decoration?”
Uncle Tai gave a wry smile: “It’s a peacock feather ornament!”
“Peacock feather ornament?” Lin Yan frowned; the term sounded familiar! “This is… Qing Dynasty? This really is a Qing tomb? Lao Yang didn’t misjudge?”
He asked Uncle Tai: “But Qing Dynasty officials… this many Miao people?”
Uncle Tai shook his head: “Not Qing officials of so many Miao people, but this place has nothing to do with the Miao ethnicity at all! It just resembles cave burial, but unrelated to Miao customs. They probably just picked a place, deliberately arranged the coffins like this, and it happens to be a cave, coinciding with Miao cave burial customs!”
He looked at the dense coffins extending upward to the cliff and exhaled: “I’m afraid we’ve already reached the tomb’s outskirts!”
Could they have entered the tomb when coming down from above? Such a large area, any other underground palace would be full of mechanisms, yet here besides this coffin formation, no other mechanisms? What was the tomb owner thinking?
Calming down, Uncle Tai added: “This kind of peacock feather ornament is basically only for fifth-rank officials and above!” He looked up at the at least thousand coffins, tone laced with lingering shock: “If real, this place buries at least high officials from several dynasties!”
Lin Yan was puzzled: “With this number, so many high officials transported here after death, history books shouldn’t have no records at all, right? Even if not in official history, wild history should mention it? How come I’ve never heard?”
Uncle Tai pointed at these corpses meaningfully: “Afraid they didn’t come after death.”
“…What do you mean?” Lin Yan frowned; Uncle Tai’s words gave him an ominous premonition: “If before death, human sacrifice? Such large-scale sacrifice? No real zombies among them, right!”
Uncle Tai was silent a moment, shook his head: “I don’t know about that, but turning into zombies…” He patted the coffin edge, stirring up dust: “It’s like this already; can’t rise as corpses, right?”
Just after the quip, he frowned again: “But in this environment, even if no rising, where did the flesh on these corpses go?”
Lin Yan felt a chill at his words; being dragged for sacrifice was tragic enough, and you’re obsessing over where the flesh went? Who does that?
