Ancient tomb excavation traces

Hearing Bao Cai's slightly condescending voice, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn't expected him to be doing so well and even find a way out. This confirmed what Chen Yi had said before: when this guy has a big heart, he's not like an ordinary person!

A large group of skeletons, missing arms and legs, crawled towards us from behind. Some were climbing on the stalactites, some stood poised on the lacquered wooden bridge, and some were already in front of us. I swung my knife as I retreated, my heart burning, constantly chanting, "Ancestors, hurry!"

Exhausted from physical and mental exertion, sweat streamed down our faces. Our ancestor had dealt with the calluses blocking our path, but the skeletons' encirclement was like a fishing net gradually tightening. Time was too short; there was absolutely no way for all eight of us to enter at the same time!

Just as we moved closer to the gap, a skeleton ambushed Liang Jiu beside me. One of its claws grabbed Liang Jiu's shoulder, and Liang Jiu winced in pain, cursing in ancient Han language. I was about to step forward to help when the Ancestor suddenly appeared in front of me, turning his head to say to us, "The Tomb Raiders will stay behind to cover our retreat. Chen Yi, you take Xiao Liuzi and the others and go first!" As he spoke, a skeleton pounced, but the Ancestor drew his sword and blocked the skeleton's claw. In that instant, I saw the red copper scimitar emit a red light.

Looking at my ancestor's imposing presence and fearless demeanor in the face of a formidable enemy, I thought of standing by him through thick and thin. But when I was very young, my grandfather had said, "When tomb raiders encounter danger while digging graves, they are willing to sacrifice themselves. If they can help others escape danger, they will choose to sacrifice themselves without hesitation. And the one who carried forward this spirit of self-sacrifice is my ancestor."

"Hey, let's go! I need to be nine heads tall to keep an eye on all of you here. Hurry up and don't distract me!" The ancestor urged us hurriedly when he saw that we hadn't retreated.

"Boss Feng, we're leaving. How did you manage to escape unscathed?" Old Tai dodged the attacks of the two skeletons. He wasn't the kind of person who would abandon a friend he would die for.

"I, Feng Xie, can communicate with heaven and earth. How could I be the kind of person who dies at the hands of skeletons? Enough talk, just leave!" The ancestor's eyes were like a rock, and his words were resolute and irresistible.

Upon hearing this, Chen Yi and the young Taoist priest, like soldiers obeying orders, turned and disappeared into the crevice with no other choice. I watched as the ancestor's agile figure darted among the white skeletons at an unpredictable speed, the three of them controlling the speed at which the skeletons were closing the net.

I stood at the narrow crevice, a lump in my throat, unwilling to leave. Suddenly, a rough hand grabbed me. I turned around and saw the priestess. She said earnestly, "Go!"

I had to control my emotions in front of the girl, so I gritted my teeth and steeled myself to step into the narrow crevice. Listening to the sounds of the ancestors fighting to the death outside, I stopped. The Miao witch turned around and glanced at me, saying, "Young Master Feng, this crevice is small and filled with the aura of death. If you stay here too long, you might lose your life."

I looked up at the Miao shaman who hadn't offered me any warm words of advice. She had already passed through the crevice before me. I could only comfort myself, "Our ancestor lived a long life and wouldn't die so soon. He will definitely be out of danger." With this thought, I walked on, suppressing my nausea. Because of my worry, the stench and sticky, rotten flesh in the crevice no longer disgusted me. However, what struck me as strange was the faint yellow light emanating from in front of the crevice.

Light? No one brought torches when we came in, so how could there be light? Curious, I stepped forward and accidentally kicked something protruding. I crouched down, about to rub my foot, when I saw a small stone sculpture. It was about the size of my foot, with a ferocious face, somewhat like a bull, but with a single horn. I examined it closely and realized it was a rhinoceros. I had once read a passage in an old book in my grandfather's collection: "It is often depicted with rhinoceroses, tigers, bears, and the like," which strongly suggested a perilous road ahead.

Just as I was feeling uneasy about the warning from the rhinoceros statue, Bao Cai suddenly appeared and said to me, "This is a mechanism. I accidentally touched it when I was backing away, so the stone door in the crevice opened!"

Bao Cai's explanation reminded me of the sound of gears turning that I had heard outside, which made me admire the ingenuity of the ancients in designing tombs.

I followed him into a short passageway. The cave walls inside weren't as weathered and eerie as the outer walls; they were relatively smooth, covered with colorful murals depicting various rituals. Among these murals was the veiled Chu witch. However, what shocked me most wasn't just these things, but rather the legendary eternal flame I saw—the ever-burning lamp.

There are about a dozen eternal lamps on the walls of the passageway in this tomb. They are shaped like bronze tripod lamps from the Warring States period, with inscriptions, deer, and auspicious clouds engraved on them. They look very ancient and exquisite, like products from the palace.

In the history of tomb raiding during the Republic of China era, some people have seen eternal lamps, but no one can accurately explain why they can burn for hundreds or even thousands of years.

My grandfather and I once studied the eternal lamp when we were bored. We started with the tomb of Qin Shi Huang and read through books. In the Records of the Grand Historian: Annals of Qin Shi Huang, there is a passage that reads: "When Qin Shi Huang first ascended the throne, he began to build the Lishan Tomb. After he unified the world, more than 700,000 laborers from all over the country were sent to build it. They dug through three springs, cast bronze to make the outer coffin, and moved palaces, temples, officials, strange objects and treasures to fill the tomb."

They used mermaid oil to make candles, which would burn for a long time without going out.

At the time, I thought the reason the eternal lamp never went out was due to the materials it was made of, but this idea was quickly opposed by my grandfather. He said that after a thousand years, the mermaid oil would eventually run out, unless there was a tomb keeper inside who could prepare to replace the oil at any time. But even if there was oil, no one could live that long to watch over the tomb.

I joked that it might be a family of tomb keepers. My grandfather said that people always crave the mortal world and the world with sunshine. Who would be willing to spend their whole life in this underground palace looking after the things of the underworld people and passing them on to their descendants? If I were given this mission today, I would definitely go crazy.

The mystery remained unsolved during our casual conversation. Now, seeing the legendary eternal flame that had burned for a thousand years, I felt a growing sense of fear. None of the reports or records could reasonably explain why the eternal flame never went out. Humans are always afraid of the unknown. Today, I saw a moving skeleton and an eternal flame that no external force could extinguish. It's inevitable that I would have wild thoughts, wondering if it was lit by a ghost. There's a folk belief that such an eternal flame is lit by people from the underworld. If you try to blow it out, a little ghost will take the opportunity to possess you, shorten your lifespan, and swap identities with you.

This thought sent a shiver down my spine. Just as Bao Cai and I were about to move forward, I suddenly saw the flame flicker, and then the dim yellow light turned into a ghostly green glow. I looked around and asked in confusion, "How come this light is like an LED light, able to change color on its own?"

Bao Cai shook his head, looking confused, and replied, "I don't know..."

His voice was higher than usual when he said this, so I gave him a suspicious look and asked, "Where are Lao Tiao and the others?"

He pointed to a cave in front of us and said, "They went in first!"

Bao Cai is usually prone to making a fuss, but he was unusually calm when he saw the ever-burning lamp suddenly turn on. Moreover, in the dim green light, his figure was a little hunched, and his monkey face made me feel that he was somewhat hypocritical.

My heart was pounding. I thought to myself: The little Taoist priest and the others will definitely come out to check on me after they see that I haven't come in. Just like Bao Cai in front of me, he will turn around and come to find me. But something is not right.

Just then, Bao Cai walked up to me with a somewhat strange posture. I could feel his breath and a strange taste in his mouth.

"Ryuko, come on..." He reached out his hand to me, and for a moment I touched something cold, and my hand jerked away as if I had been electrocuted.

"Why are your hands so cold?" I looked at him with a hint of surprise, and Bao Cai in front of me felt like a stranger.

"It's probably because this cave is cold," Bao Cai explained innocently. "In this underground place, we're no different from the dead..."

"No different from a dead man?" Looking at his mysterious expression, I felt a little disoriented. Suppressing my fear, I reassured him, "Feng Liu, this is your buddy from the modern world. Don't be paranoid." Even so, for the first time in my time with Bao Cai, I felt he was so unreal in my presence. I looked at him with a hint of wariness, and his gaze met mine, a half-smile that seemed to mask his seriousness.

Just as we reached a stalemate, the firelight turned a ghastly green, illuminating the small space in a dim light, much like the underworld in a television drama. I strained my ears, trying to sense the presence of our ancestors outside, but there was no sound. The space we were in seemed to have been sealed off, and Bao Cai and I were isolated. Even the little Taoist priest and the others had vanished without a trace.

Sensing something was wrong, I swallowed hard and took a step back in alarm, my body seemingly instinctively resisting my dearest friend.

In the dim green light, Bao Cai didn't move, but stood still. To my surprise, I noticed that the corners of his mouth were turned up, revealing a sinister look.

"Ryuko, what's wrong? Are you avoiding me?" Bao Cai said sarcastically, moving closer to me again.

I gripped the Mongolian knife tightly, feeling that this unknown treasure was more terrifying than poisonous snakes and ghosts. And then I suddenly realized something: he didn't have a Mongolian knife, and most importantly, he called me "Liu Zi" (a derogatory term for a rogue), not "Young Master"!

"Who are you?" I shuddered at the question I asked myself. How could someone transform into a treasure to deceive me? He must be wearing a human skin mask or using some kind of terrible evil magic.

"Who am I?" Bao Cai, who was hunched over, suddenly laughed. With his shrill laughter, a lamp that had been burning all night suddenly went out, and the place became an eerie dark corner.

I gasped. A cloud of black mist unfurled before me, revealing the person's true form. Her long hair cascaded to the ground, and she wore a black and red robe. Red, man-eating vine patterns entwined the robe's front and cuffs, while vibrant red, blooming flowers of death were woven into the black brocade. This attire, compared to the murals in the cave, clearly belonged to a sorceress from the Chu Kingdom!

I was terrified. Looking at her face again, I couldn't make it out clearly; all I could see was a swirling mass of black energy. My heart tightened. Could this be ghostly energy? Just then, another ever-burning lamp went out, reminding me of ancient folk tales. Could it be that this thing wanted to use me as a scapegoat so it could be resurrected?

"It's been too long... I've waited too long..." The outline of the features on the face formed by the black mist was vaguely visible. She tilted her head back with a hint of sadness, gazing at the firelight, as if reminiscing about the past. And at this moment, I was like a chess piece in her hand, my life or death decided with a single move.

What to do? I groaned inwardly, sweat beading on my forehead. To deal with a thousand-year-old female ghost, the young Taoist priest had to step in, but in this situation, the ancestor behind us was silent, and the young priest and the others were nowhere to be found. If I tried to scream, I'd probably be killed by the ghost before I even made a sound. The only saving grace was that I had one last bullet in my gun. If I was doomed, I might as well end it myself; it was better than being terrified like this.

Just as I was bracing myself for the worst, the ever-burning lamp suddenly flickered, and the few remaining candle flames that had been extinguished began to ignite again. The Chu witch gave me a chilling glance, and my heart clenched; I thought, "It's over, it's over, I'm going to die." In that moment of despair, I noticed her ethereal robes slowly disappearing, like some kind of beautiful special effect added to a movie.

A surge of joy welled up within me. I thought that if the eternal flames went out, it meant my lifespan was coming to an end, and their rekindling meant that my fate was not yet sealed. With this thought, I felt a sliver of hope, and even my legs, which had been weak moments before, regained their strength.

The witch's shadow staggered toward me, reaching out somewhat reluctantly to grab my cheek. But unfortunately, the black aura around her gradually dissipated, leaving only a black head in the end. I saw her grin, as if to say, "We'll meet again."

I watched her disappear, and involuntarily shuddered. Strangely, after the shiver, my head felt heavy, and something seemed to be clinging to my vision, carrying a faint smell of blood. In a daze, I tried to open my eyes, and in a slightly yellowish world, I saw a familiar monkey face before me, seemingly observing me. I felt a resistance towards this face, and my body involuntarily leaned back.

Seeing my movement, the man straightened up and asked the tall, white-clad figure beside him, puzzled, "Little Celestial Master, when will Young Master recover?"

The familiar address—it really was Bao Cai! I happily removed the object before me; it was two blood-stained talismans, and the person standing in front of me was the young Taoist priest.

I stood up, feeling a surge of excitement. The young Taoist priest remained indifferent as he explained everything that had just happened to me.

He said that although the eternal lamp was a tool for illumination, it actually illuminated the eerie fire beneath the ground. This eerie fire could bewitch the mind; if one did not know its nature and kept staring at it, one would fall under its spell and descend into chaos. If I hadn't acted in time, I would have been taken to another world along with each of the extinguished candles.

His words made me even more suspicious of the ever-burning lamp; it could make people forget everything that had just happened, like a kind of hypnosis. Anyway, thanks to the young Taoist priest's repeated rescues, he saved Bao Cai and my lives in this strange world. To express my gratitude, I put my arm around the young Taoist priest's shoulder, treating him like a close brother, while Bao Cai went even further, treating him like a god and giving him a new nickname—Zhang the Half-Immortal.

Upon hearing this familiar title, my eyes widened, and I exclaimed, "Zhang the Fortune Teller!"

Bao Cai looked at me suspiciously and said, "What's wrong? Isn't it convincing enough?"

Chen Yi and I exchanged glances. I'd heard this name from my grandfather when I was two years old. If the young Taoist priest really was the Zhang Banxian we knew, that would be incredible. His family was a warlord organization in Hanzhong during the late Eastern Han Dynasty. His father was Zhang Daoling's grandson, the Marquis of Xiangping—Zhang Lu, known as the third Celestial Master of the Five Pecks of Rice sect, who was above my ancestor's family, extremely wealthy and powerful! And Zhang Banxian was Zhang Lu's unknown ninth son, that is, Zhang Daoling's great-grandson.

I glanced at the young Taoist priest. In my grandfather's description, he was a refined gentleman, "as handsome as jade, unparalleled in the world." There was just one thing I didn't understand: why did he only mention his master and never his father? And why did he call Zhang Daoling his patriarch instead of his great-grandfather?