Ancient tomb excavation traces

(Reader group for "Traces of Ancient Tombs" - 465422668)

I once read about urn burials in an archaeology book, but the description was rather general, just a rough overview. It stated that the use of urn burials was primarily due to the ancient people's belief in the immortality of the soul. It first appeared in the Neolithic period and was widely used in my country's slave society.

Intrigued by this, I researched it online, and the information I found was rather alarming. It said that urn burial was primarily for children who had not yet reached adulthood, some of whom had died young. In ancient times, children who died young were considered unlucky, so their bodies could not be placed in the clan's cemetery but could only be buried in the wilderness. To prevent these children from being eaten by wild animals, the ancients used earthenware urns.

Back in college, my bunkmate was a timid guy, but he was incredibly enthusiastic about telling ghost stories. Although I didn't want to listen, I still absorbed quite a bit. He said the most vicious ghosts were those who died young. They had finally managed to be reborn as humans, but died for no reason. In such cases, they would accumulate resentment and harm people everywhere.

The eeriness of the urn coffin lies not only in the deaths of the children but also in its associated beliefs. After the poor children died, their parents would drill a small hole in the bottom of the urn coffin or the lid to allow their vengeful spirits to freely enter and exit, hoping to ensure their souls would not perish. Another explanation is that the hole was there so that they could escape and be reincarnated more quickly.

Either way, it was terrifying to me at that moment, because I saw a small hole in the lid of the pottery urn, which clearly exuded an eerie aura, confirming the claims online. Moreover, the child inside the broken urn, as seen from this angle, wasn't an infant; he looked more like a four or five-year-old. I don't believe these children were actually killed, because it's too coincidental that all the children died unnaturally at once, given the long passageway and the numerous urn coffins.

Thinking of this, I couldn't help but swallow hard, imagining them crawling out of the hole and harming people. I couldn't help but shudder. At this moment, the Zippo's casing started to heat up, and the high tension made me feel hot all over, so hot that I was already drenched in sweat.

There's actually a rather outlandish explanation for urn burials: in ancient times, some emperors would place objects filled with deep resentment into their tombs to ward off thieves. Even if these objects didn't directly kill anyone, they could leave an indelible psychological scar.

The ancient tombs contained mostly urn coffins used for human sacrifice. This method of human sacrifice was extremely cruel; young children were stuffed alive into earthenware urns the size of a toilet lid and then sealed with the lid. These children would suffocate inside shortly afterward. Their bodies were positioned with their hands embracing their knees, much like the posture of a child in the mother's womb.

Imagine being trapped in a confined space where you can't move your arms and legs, unable to eat—how frantic would you feel? This kind of death is even more suffocating than being stabbed or bitten by a snake. I can almost feel the contorted shapes of these poor children as they lose their breath, and their faces filled with endless resentment and hatred after their struggles.

This was a time of slavery, when life was cheap and meaningless. I don't know who made the urn coffin—whether it was the mad King of Chu or the loyal but cruel Eight Witches—I can accept it either way. But if the urn coffin passage was made by Sima Yan, then he was truly cunning, deliberately creating an artificial passage to mislead tomb raiders familiar with the methods into thinking it was an escape route used by craftsmen, only to find out upon entering that it was a den of deadly imps.

As I pondered this, it suddenly dawned on me that we had been outmaneuvered by Sima Yan long ago! If the deaths of these children were all his doing, then he was far less benevolent than the descriptions in the silk manuscripts. What kind of "child of heaven" is this… how could someone who descends with lightning be a saint? He must be a demon!

That's right. I kept thinking and then confirmed my idea. This kind of sinister method is similar to the black magic of Southeast Asia. Ordinary people would not understand it or control it. Moreover, I don't think that the Eight Witches could design such a trap. So it can only be Sima Yan, a hypocrite who killed so many innocent children.

At this moment, I suddenly felt a little nauseous. I remembered the silk scroll written by Sima Yan, in which he said he did not want Mi Ling to make the same mistake again. However, his cruelty was even more extreme than Mi Ling's, after all, he designed the tomb.

Looking back now, all those waterways, bronze caves, and stagnant waters seem strangely malevolent. When Lan Quexi recounted part of Sima Yan's past to us, I was so engrossed that I forgot about the tomb's inherent malevolence. Mi Ling only wanted revenge; even in death, she shouldn't have created so many dangerous things. These were all pre-arranged by Sima Yan; this tomb is him himself.

Thinking about these things, I felt a chill run down my spine, as if my worldview had been turned upside down. I don't know why I had such thoughts, but I think this might be the right answer.

While I was pondering the problem, the eighth day of the lunar month was already quite a distance away. This passage was at least fifty meters long, and in such a cramped and suffocating place, the air was filled with a sinister atmosphere. I put away my scorching hot lighter and told my companions outside about the origin of the urn coffin and the strange child they had seen inside.

Bao Cai panicked immediately, stammering, "How could this be? Wasn't this an escape route? How could it be used to pickle people? And those pottery urns contain children? No, no... I won't go in, the evil energy there is so strong!"

For a moment, I couldn't explain it to him, because the urns were very close to my back. If I squatted down, my head would hit the eerie pottery urns. Just thinking about it sent chills down my spine. I wondered if the saying about the child's tragic death and deep resentment would suddenly come true at this moment. But just thinking about the countless worm eggs hanging in this intestine-like space made me shudder.

Sometimes, it's better not to know something exists. I regret my excessive curiosity that led me to my doom, but thinking it through, knowing how I died is always better than dying in vain if something goes wrong.

Having survived a near-death experience, I cherished my life even more. Daring not to think any further, I crawled forward, but a trembling sound of fear escaped my lips.

At this moment, I could still faintly hear Lan Quexi's voice outside urging me to go back, but my mind was in turmoil, and only my body continued to crawl numbly forward. This feeling was like when I participated in the 1500-meter race in high school. When I was exhausted, no matter how many people cheered me on, I couldn't listen. I only thought about getting to the finish line as quickly as possible.

As I continued forward, sweat dripping down my face, a crisp cracking sound emanated from the eerily quiet space. A chill ran down my neck, and my heart pounded wildly. I wondered: What happened? Could it be that the thing inside has broken free? At that moment, I was in the middle of the passage, unable to move forward or backward. I felt like a child trapped in a clay pot, suffocating.

"Damn it, you scoundrel, speak up!" Chen Yu shouted from outside. At this moment, I was on the verge of tears. The pottery shards kept falling on me. I felt my heart pounding to its limit with the sound of the shattering. My original intention to respond to Chen Yu's words was also carried away by the cold air in the dark cave.

Just then, a desperate, piercing cry suddenly rang out. This cry was unlike that of a normal child; it was sharper, like a razor-sharp blade, making one's heart race with unease. The entire black hole was like an amplifier, and I could no longer hear Chen Yi and the others; my ears were filled with this agonizing scream.

I inwardly groaned, thinking: It's over! These vengeful spirits are surely after me. Just then, Chu Ba was already outside, urgently calling out, "Little Liuzi, don't panic, keep going!"

I responded and was about to rush forward regardless when I heard a dull thud on the ground besides the sound of broken pottery jars falling. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly regained my composure. After my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the cave, I saw a strange shadow in the distance. The shadow wasn't tall; it just stood there. I frantically reached for my lighter, but I was so nervous that I couldn't get it out no matter how many times I tried.

"Damn it..." In an instant, I was so anxious that my heart was on fire. I thought to myself: This bad luck is contagious! When we were at the waterfall, Bao Cai was attacked by snakes everywhere he went. Now, Chu Ba and I were in the same hole. He got away safely, but I woke up all the filthy things!

Just as I was feeling utterly miserable, my heart-wrenching sobs abruptly stopped. It was a terrible feeling, like watching a musical and, just as it reached its climax, the lights went out, the sound disappeared, leaving only a dark stage.

What's going on? I wondered, my breath catching in my throat. I had no idea what would happen next, or what my fate would be. Instinctively, I looked up and glanced around, trying to find some movement. But after only a moment of silence, I heard a childlike laugh from the shadowy figure in front of me. The laugh was ethereal, not like it came from a human mouth, but rather seemed to emanate from an acupoint. Goosebumps rose all over my body. Right now, I could only quickly control my breathing and tremble as I lit the lighter again. But as soon as the flame flickered, I saw a grayish-blue face staring at me. The face was very close, no more than a fist's width away. I was so frightened that I took a few steps back. Looking closer, I saw that the owner of the face looked to be only three or four years old. He stared at me with an eerie innocence in his eyes. I felt both fear and pity for him. Just as I was about to make a move, the sinister child revealed a smile, a smile more terrifying than any cunning one, as if it contained some kind of conspiracy.