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墨書 Inktalez
I might be, I reminded myself inwardly.
As I circled around the Bronze Coffin, I found myself back in front of the previous inscription. To my surprise, it seemed to have changed.
I crouched down again, looking at the inscription that the clay figure had pointed out to me earlier. Indeed, it had changed. I couldn't help but curse, "Damn," as it now read "One Person's Funeral," which could only refer to me!
Unable to contain my frustration, I kicked the Bronze Coffin. The resulting loud bang drew Fat Ma over in a hurry, followed closely by the clay figure.
Fat Ma immediately asked, "Old Sun, are you okay?"
I shook my head and muttered, "Damn." The clay figure looked at me with suspicion.
I shared my discovery with them.
Upon hearing "One Person's Funeral," Fat Ma quickly replied, "That's a good thing."
I retorted, "Good for you, you deadhead! Damn it, doesn't that mean it's referring to me?"
The clay figure's previously gloomy expression began to lighten.
Fat Ma said, "Old Sun, why are you so stubborn? Just because it says 'One Person's Funeral,' we don't have to take it literally. We can just fold a piece of paper into a person for it."
I couldn't help but laugh at that; surprisingly, the clay figure burst into laughter before I did. Fat Ma scolded, "Clay figure, what are you laughing about?"
The clay figure remained silent, and Fat Ma didn't press further.
After some commotion, we fell silent again. In this environment, no one could stay cheerful for too long; after all, our escape route was completely blocked off, and there was no path ahead either.
"Old Sun," Fat Ma suddenly said, "don't worry about that for now. I found something good over there."
Seeing Fat Ma's mysterious demeanor piqued my interest, so I followed him.
In the main burial chamber, right above us, there were numerous wine jars displayed. Fat Ma grinned widely and said, "See, Old Sun? I wasn't lying to you."
I looked at the jars; they were made of porcelain, but the craftsmanship was quite rough.
I hesitated, pondering how such crude porcelain could exist here. It didn't match the identity of the tomb's owner at all.
It seemed the clay figure sensed my thoughts and remarked, "This tomb has a history of at least several thousand years, and porcelain technology hadn't developed much by then. The presence of porcelain here is already quite luxurious."
After hearing the clay figure's explanation, I found it reasonable.
"But can we drink this wine? It's been here for so long," I asked.
Fat Ma looked at me as if I were a simpleton. "Old Sun, don't you know that wine gets better with age?"
With that, he stepped forward and lifted the lid of one of the jars.
Immediately, a strong aroma of wine wafted out. Fat Ma inhaled deeply and exclaimed in delight, "What a fine wine!"
The scent was intoxicating, and I couldn't help but approach him.
Fat Ma took a sip from the jar, but the next moment he spat it out and cursed loudly, "What kind of crap is this? It's terrible!"
I froze for a moment as I watched Fat Ma continuously spit and then start to retch. Realizing something was wrong, I hurried over to support him; his complexion had turned a sickly shade.
The clay figure also came over and touched Fat Ma's forehead. His expression changed immediately as he said, "He might be poisoned."
"What should we do?" I asked anxiously, realizing there were no doctors or medicine available.
"Don't panic," the Mud Man said as he pulled a pill from his pocket and gave it to Fat Ma. Fat Ma retched again, but his complexion seemed to improve slightly.
I asked the Mud Man, "How is he?"
The Mud Man shook his head and replied, "I don't know if this pill will work."
Fat Ma retched violently once more.
Suddenly, he shouted, "Water, water!" Damn it, where am I supposed to find water right now? I felt a wave of urgency wash over me.
"I have some," the Mud Man said, handing over a flask. Fat Ma gulped it down greedily, only to throw it up again.
Then he began to speak. "Damn it, I almost threw up my entire insides."
Seeing him curse made me think he was going to be okay.
Fat Ma turned to the Mud Man and said, "What the hell did you just give me? It smells like urine."
The Mud Man bluntly replied, "It's a Dan of a young boy."
"What is a Dan of a young boy?" I asked in confusion.
All of a sudden, Fat Ma roared in anger, cursing, "Mud Man, I'm going to kill you!" The Mud Man took off running at the sound of his voice.
Fat Ma continued to curse, "You Dead Mud Man, how dare you give me urine!"
The Mud Man retorted, "If I hadn't given you that, you wouldn't even know if you were alive or dead right now."
"Damn," Fat Ma cursed before stopping his pursuit. I followed him, noticing the exhaustion etched on his face; it seemed he had just been through a rough ordeal.
Fat Ma took a few deep breaths and walked back to the wine jars. "Damn, what the hell are these things?"
I asked, "Didn't you taste anything just now?"
Fat Ma replied with frustration, "It smelled so good, but drinking it was like swallowing the taste of death."
"I was really careless; I let my guard down!" He kicked a few wine jars, shattering them and releasing a wave of red liquid that mingled with the scent of alcohol.
The Mud Man stepped forward, scooping some of the liquid with his hand. After sniffing it, he calmly said, "This is blood."
I felt a wave of nausea wash over me at his words, and Fat Ma wasted no time digging his fingers into his mouth. "Why didn't you tell me sooner that it was blood?"
The Mud Man replied, "With that strong aroma of alcohol," and then, as if admitting fault, added, "I was careless."
Hearing this, Fat Ma responded generously, "I forgive you."
It was shocking to realize that these jars were filled with blood. As I looked at the stacks of jars leaning against the wall, my head began to spin. How much blood had been used? How many lives had been taken?
Fat Ma was clearly disturbed by this revelation and cursed again, "Those bastards are truly insane."
At that moment, I instinctively glanced back at the Bronze Coffin. In the dim light, it appeared eerily still. After a moment, I said, "We should open the coffin first."
I believed that every situation has a beginning and an end; we needed to resolve this from where it all started.
Only by opening this coffin might we find a way out.
Both of them looked at me. The Mud Man's demeanor had changed completely; he was no longer as calm as when I first suggested opening those wooden coffins.
I knew he was somewhat reluctant, so I said, "It's fine for me and Fat Ma to handle this. You can just watch from the side."
Fat Ma didn't mock the clay figure; instead, he said, "Yes, Old Sun and I can manage."
With that, I walked over to the Bronze Coffin with Fat Ma, intending to open it. It was difficult—very difficult. Not only was the Coffin Lid heavy, but its sturdiness was also beyond our ability to breach.
Moreover, this coffin might indeed be the Ghost Coffin mentioned by the clay figure.
I sighed lightly. Fat Ma's mood was clearly not as pessimistic as mine. He muttered, "How are we supposed to open this coffin? It's the first time in all these years I've encountered a Bronze Coffin like this."
I replied, "Forcing it open won't work. Let's see if we can find any clues."
We circled around the Bronze Coffin, examining every detail without wanting to miss anything.
Fat Ma started tapping on it, and I looked at him in surprise. I actually wanted to ask if he felt anything special because when I had touched it earlier, the Bronze Coffin had pulsated twice.
Seeing that Fat Ma's expression was normal, I decided not to ask.
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