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墨書 Inktalez
I shouted again, "Fat Ma, stay put and don't move. Once you've rested enough, continue forward as before."
By the time Fat Ma emerged from the tomb passage, several minutes had passed.
After catching his breath, Fat Ma muttered, "It's still better to keep your feet on the ground!"
I began to examine the tomb chamber. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; in the center stood a stone platform with a coffin resting upon it.
The chamber was square-shaped, with the floor paved with large slabs of blue stone, and the walls were solid and secure.
It was a perfectly normal tomb! Yet because everything felt too normal, I found myself feeling uneasy.
The coffin lay quietly on the stone platform, its surface a somber black.
I couldn't help but ask the clay figure beside me, "Do you sense anything amiss?"
The clay figure looked at me in surprise and shook its head.
When Fat Ma saw the coffin, he became quite excited and approached it with his Luoyang Shovel in hand.
Despite my lingering unease, I didn't move until the clay figure and Fat Ma called for me to join them by the coffin.
"Hey! It's really cool!" Fat Ma said as he placed his hand on the Coffin Lid.
After hearing this, I also placed my hand on the Coffin Lid. The moment I touched it, a chill ran through me, a strange sensation that ignited from deep within my heart. It wasn't the kind of cold you feel in icy weather, nor was it the refreshing coolness of a summer breeze from a fan or air conditioner. It felt more like a gentle natural wind caressing my face.
Moreover, this coffin showed no signs of decay whatsoever.
Aside from a layer of black paint, there was nothing else on the Coffin; it was as clean as this tomb and the previous one we had encountered.
Could it really be true, as written on the Tomb Gate, that the owner of this tomb was poor? But looking at the scale of this mausoleum, it didn't seem likely. Perhaps there were still some secrets hidden away.
Fat Ma casually knocked on the Coffin Lid. The sound went from a series of knocks to a sudden "gug, gug, gug." Realizing something was off, Fat Ma quickly withdrew his hand.
Yet the "gug, gug, gug" sound continued to echo. A sense of dread washed over me, and I quickly signaled for everyone to step back from the stone platform.
I kept my eyes fixed on that coffin, fearing something unexpected might happen. The Mud Man and Fat Ma felt the same way.
Each "gug" resonated with my heartstrings. Was it the coffin making that sound? Or was something warning us?
Fat Ma suggested, "Let's place four candles at the southeast, southwest, northeast, and northwest corners of the coffin." His tone was one of seeking consensus.
I nodded in agreement.
Fat Ma began to set up four candles at each corner of the coffin and carefully lit them one by one with his lighter. Once they were all lit, Fat Ma cautiously stepped back to join us.
I shifted my gaze to the candles in the corners.
The flames were growing stronger and stronger, showing no signs of extinguishing. Although they showed no intention of going out, we still dared not make a move.
A single action could set off a chain reaction; if we were to act, we had to consider the consequences.
As we watched, the candles slowly burned down. Just when I thought they would finally extinguish, they once again defied my expectations.
The candles had burned out, yet the wicks remained lit, still casting their glow.
I felt a cold sweat trickle down my back.
All three of us exchanged glances, and from their eyes, I could see fear. An unprecedented situation had arisen.
I remembered what Fat Ma had said: if the old man in the coffin disagreed with us opening it, the candles would immediately go out. If he agreed, the candles would remain lit.
So what was happening now? I felt as if my feet were glued to the ground, trembling.
I whispered, "What does this mean?"
The clay figure and Fat Ma both looked abnormal, not responding to my question.
The wick continued to shine brightly.
Fat Ma suddenly stepped forward and blew out all the wicks.
Suddenly, the sound of "gugugu" transformed into a series of "bang bang bang," alternating continuously.
After Fat Ma stepped back, cold sweat poured down like rain. I didn't dare to breathe, and the clay figure slowly relaxed its tightly clenched fists.
Today, we've encountered something tough, Fat Ma said.
We stood still for five minutes before the noise finally ceased. I let out a sigh of relief…
When we approached the coffin again, it had already been a moment later. The three of us surrounded the coffin, staring at it as if we were trying to see through it.
"What do we do now?" I asked.
The person who had led us did not appear, but there was still a purpose behind it all.
What worried Fat Ma was whether this coffin should be opened. If it needed to be opened, he certainly wouldn't hesitate.
Someone had to make a decision about this.
To open or not to open; I exchanged glances with the clay figure.
"Give me a straight answer!" Fat Ma said impatiently.
"Then let's open it!" I finally compromised. I understood that they were professionals in this field, and their job required them to make such choices. If we were to ask Fat Ma, he would definitely lean towards opening the coffin.
The material of this coffin was unusual, and the person buried inside must be extraordinary as well.
Moreover, there was no basis for us to determine the era of the tomb. Just looking at the brick and stone construction of the passage, it should belong to the Ming or Qing Dynasty, but this assumption was not solid.
However, I could guarantee that the tomb we entered ten years ago in the Northwest was from the Shang Dynasty, as evidenced by the bronze artifacts and crude pottery found inside. Over time, bronze items had lost their prominence, and porcelain had become more popular.
So I took action! Fat Ma sought opinions.
Fat Ma cautiously placed his hand on the coffin. Just when I expected a strange sound to emerge, nothing happened. Fat Ma's expression froze; he must have been surprised as well.
The clay figures quickly joined in, but when they started working, they realized that this coffin did not have a lid or a separate structure; it was a complete whole.
One of the clay figures suddenly spoke up, "Could this be the legendary Ebony?" His tone was filled with astonishment.
Fat Ma clearly did not understand what 'Ebony' was.
The clay figure explained, "Ebony is commonly known as Dark Wood or Eastern Divine Wood. It is said to preserve the body from decay and has associations with immortality. However, this type of wood only exists in legends, and when used for burial, it must be hollowed out from the tree trunk."
Fat Ma also expressed his surprise, saying, "So there might be an immortal sleeping inside!"
"There's nothing so outrageous about what you said," I replied.
Fat Ma chuckled, his mood lightening a bit as he said, "If only we could ask for an Elixir while we're at it!"
"Fool's talk," the Mud Man retorted to Fat Ma.
Fat Ma laughed, "I’m willing to!"
The Mud Man didn’t respond. In contrast to Fat Ma's playful demeanor, the Mud Man's expression turned serious as he said to me, "Old Sun, maybe your choice is the right one."
"Not opening the coffin?" I asked.
The Mud Man nodded heavily.
"Why the sudden hesitation?" I continued.
"If we open it, we might face a catastrophe that the three of us can't handle," the Mud Man said in a low voice.
At that moment, an abrupt voice rang out, "If the three of you can't handle it, adding us should be enough..."
The Mud Man, Fat Ma, and I quickly reacted, scanning for the source of the voice.
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