Chapter Eleven: One More?

Peanut patted me, and only then did I come back to my senses. Seeing that everyone had already gone inside, we didn’t linger any longer.

As soon as we passed through the enormous gate, I noticed the people ahead were moving extremely slowly, stopping and starting, to the point that the portly man in front had grown bored and begun smoking. Whenever they came upon a mural or a carved brick, they would pause to take photographs, sometimes gathering to hold brief discussions.

I couldn’t help but recall what Fatty had said earlier—were these people really here to rescue someone?

Since they weren’t in a hurry, neither were Fatty and I. While Professor Chen and his group examined those relics, I began to scrutinize the structure of the tomb.

There were seven brick chambers in total, each corresponding to a giant gate. Every chamber had a side door connecting them. We were in the chamber furthest to the left; it wasn’t very large, but it was filled with various items. Apart from the waist-high bronze incense burner in the center, what intrigued us most was the stone-carved bed against the wall.

The stone bed was empty, but its relief carvings were exceptionally rich. Besides the ubiquitous cloud-and-thunder motifs, the front of the bed bore the image of a phoenix.

“Professor Chen, there’s a phoenix carved here. Could the tomb’s occupant be a woman?” Zhang Yaxi asked.

Professor Chen looked puzzled but shook his head. “During the Sixteen Kingdoms period of Wei and Jin, there weren’t any women of such stature who would merit a tomb of this scale. Most likely, among the buried or accompanying individuals, there was a woman of considerable status.”

The students nodded, but Zhuge Xuan suddenly pointed at the phoenix’s head. “Look, the carving of the phoenix is wrong.”

At her words, everyone turned to where she was pointing. I drew closer and saw she was indicating the phoenix’s eye.

I couldn’t tell exactly what was unusual about the eye, but there was no doubt the phoenix seemed markedly different.

“Ah.” Professor Chen gasped, drawing in a sharp breath. “How could the phoenix be carved with a dragon’s eye?”

Ancient people in the Central Plains held dragons and phoenixes in the highest regard. Even their depictions weren’t something just anyone could draw, for these creatures symbolized power, and their images were almost fixed in the hands of the ancients. Dragon eyes were round and dignified, embodying the essence of heaven and earth; phoenix eyes were slender and raised, signifying royal nobility. To place a dragon’s eye on a phoenix’s head—such an act by the sculptor, in any era, would have been a crime punishable by the extermination of nine generations.

Yet here was a phoenix carved just so. More perplexing, the dragon-eyed phoenix head, while strange, imparted an indefinable sense of fullness and grandeur.

“Though Han dynasty sculpture is far inferior to that of the Ming and Qing, the person who carved this phoenix is unfathomable, capable of such bizarre artistry,” Professor Chen sighed in admiration. “But why would the tomb’s owner commission such a thing?”

At this moment, Fatty, squatting nearby and smoking, grew impatient. “Save those questions for later, Professor Chen. We’ve spent two hours in this chamber alone, and there are still six more ahead. I’m just the guide, do what you want, but if you’re in no hurry, don’t blame me for taking a nap later—I can’t be accused of slacking off.”

Professor Chen smiled apologetically. “Sorry, once we see these things, we lose control. You’re right, everyone, let’s move on.”

With that, the group left the stone bed and headed toward the side door where Fatty waited.

“Wait,”

Just as everyone gathered, Yang Lang called out. He stood about ten meters away, stiff and uneasy.

I’d thought Yang Lang was a capable man, but now he seemed even more nervous than I was.

“Yang Lang, what’s wrong?” Professor Chen went over.

“I...” Yang Lang glanced at Professor Chen, then at the rest of us. “Something feels off here.”

I’d sensed something was wrong with Yang Lang’s behavior when we entered. Hearing him now, I felt a chill crawl up my spine. The events of last time were still vivid in my mind—now, barely inside, were things already about to go awry?

We all looked around. Zhang Yadong said, “What’s off? Yang Lang, you’re usually pretty bold, so why now...”

“Hasn’t anyone noticed?” Yang Lang continued, “Since the rain tarp was put on, something’s not right around us.”

“Tell us what’s wrong,” I urged him.

Peanut walked over to Yang Lang. “Yang, don’t be nervous. Calm down and tell us slowly.”

But Yang Lang seemed utterly unable to settle himself. He scanned us repeatedly, and after a long moment, finally said, “Don’t you see? There’s... there’s one person too many in here.”

Though eight flashlights shone, the tomb chamber’s darkness was impervious to their beams. Yang Lang’s words were like a cold hand suddenly clutching everyone’s throats—at once, silence reigned. The atmosphere turned bizarre, and I guessed everyone, like me, was quietly counting the number of flashlight beams around them.

In that brief hush, a sudden “click” sounded nearby. All our shoulders tensed simultaneously. Instantly, everyone’s gaze snapped to the side door beside Fatty.

It was the sound of a flashlight switch. Clearly, just now, someone among us had turned theirs off. Yet a glance told us all eight who’d descended were still standing in place.

My skin prickled with goosebumps. In that moment, I distinctly remembered—at the door beside Fatty, someone had been standing with a flashlight.

Fatty was visibly frightened, his face pale, glaring at the space beside him, nostrils twitching uncontrollably.

“Just now, I recall the person at the door was...” Zhang Yaxi’s voice trembled, trying to recall a name, but in the end, he couldn’t say it.

It was this seeming lapse of memory that filled us all with terror.

“Yang Lang, why didn’t you mention the extra person earlier?” Zhang Yadong looked at Yang Lang.

“I...” Yang Lang lowered his head. “I wasn’t sure before. The extra person seemed to appear and disappear…”

“Enough,” Professor Chen said. “Let’s not dwell on it. Move on.”

I knew, in moments like these, standing around speculating was pointless. This was an ancient tomb—everyone’s nerves were taut. If we stayed in this state of extreme fear, someone might lose their mind.

Fatty turned back. “Looks like we can’t waste any more time. Professor Chen, I advise you and your students to stop examining things for now. Let’s search the place quickly and get out early.”

Fatty was right, but as soon as he finished speaking, I saw strange expressions flicker across Professor Chen and his group’s faces—they began exchanging furtive glances.

Hiss... In that instant, Fatty’s earlier suspicions seemed to be confirmed. This group definitely wasn’t just here looking for someone. But an archaeological team, with no official mission—if not searching for a person, then what were they after?

I shook off the thought. Damn it—why does entering a place like this always lead me down a rabbit hole of doubts?

“Uh, Mr. Cao is right. Let’s not waste any more time,” Professor Chen said, and the others moved toward the side door.

“I’ll take a photo,” Zhuge Xuan said, raising her camera toward the stone bed.

I found her troublesome and shot her a glare, about to mutter something, when the camera’s flash suddenly went off. At that moment, I saw something glittering gold dart swiftly from the upper edge of the stone bed to its back.

“What was that?” I blurted out, then rushed toward the stone bed.