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墨書 Inktalez
A faint blue light emanated softly, hanging in mid-air was a string of small flames that burned quietly, illuminating the surroundings. Above the beams was an arch-shaped roof.
The light cast shadows above and below. That lamp hung eerily in the air.
We walked under the flickering shadows of the firelight, looking up at the lamp, feeling uneasy all over.
I asked, "Do you two know what this is?"
Fat Ma shook his head.
The Mud Man replied, "I've heard people say this is called a 'Ghost Lantern,' used to intimidate and suppress evil spirits. In the past, when Mao Shan Taoists descended the mountain to capture ghosts, they would light such a lamp beforehand. After capturing and sealing the spirit in a shrine, they would also light a lamp at the shrine's seal, and it couldn't be extinguished for a certain period. So they often had their disciples add oil to keep the flame alive, only extinguishing it after a set time."
Hearing the Mud Man's words reminded me of a story my grandfather once told me. He said that during the Anti-Japanese War Period, there was a Dirt Scholar in Changsha who once conducted a deal alone. When the coffin was opened, there was actually a lamp glowing inside. Although this Dirt Scholar was somewhat frightened, he relied on his skills and bravely extinguished the lamp. At that very moment, something strange happened: the Dirt Scholar seemed to lose his sanity, crawled into the coffin, and then closed the coffin lid himself. After that, there was no news of him. I added, "He must have died."
Fat Ma asked, "Old Sun, didn't you say only one person went down? How did your grandfather know about this?"
Fat Ma's reminder made me realize that it was indeed strange. However, I had no idea how my grandfather knew about it. I replied to Fat Ma, "I'll take you to meet my grandfather if I get the chance."
Fat Ma smiled and said, "I definitely want to visit the old man when I get the chance."
Suddenly, the Mud Man coughed a few times; it sounded like something was stuck in his throat.
I asked, "What's wrong?"
The Mud Man looked unwell and after a moment said, "Recently hanging out with you guys, I haven't been paying attention to my diet; my nose isn't working well!"
Fat Ma leaned in with his chubby face and looked at the Mud Man. "What does that have to do with us?"
The Clay Man said, "You know, when we go underground, we also have to observe and inquire like doctors. Of course, if you want to smell something, you have to be cautious about many things, especially regarding diet."
Fat Ma listened intently to the Clay Man and stopped arguing.
Suddenly, a glint flashed in Fat Ma's sly eyes as he leaned closer to the Clay Man and said, "Since you have so many taboos, why don’t you just give me a cigarette from your pocket?" He chuckled a few times.
The Clay Man replied with three words: "Get lost."
Fat Ma continued, "Business is business; let’s keep it friendly. Just give me one stick for now." In the end, the Clay Man had no choice but to relent and handed Fat Ma a cigarette after being pestered.
I also thought Fat Ma had a point and said, "Since you can't smoke, why not do a favor?"
The Clay Man laughed at our banter and said, "You two!"
Both Fat Ma and I chuckled. Fat Ma stepped forward and shook my hand, saying, "Comrade!"
"Enough of that; let’s focus on the task at hand," I reminded them.
Above us hung a ghostly lantern. According to what the Clay Man and I had discussed, this lantern absolutely could not go out; if it did, we might face disaster.
At the back of the tomb chamber, there was clearly a sealed stone door. Seeing this made me feel somewhat relieved; at least there was an escape route.
Fat Ma had already begun searching around.
I instinctively looked up at the Ghost Lantern above us and reminded him to be quiet.
Now there were only three of us, with Fat Ma being the only one with a light source. So we moved in accordance with Fat Ma's movements. This tomb chamber seemed quite large, but it was definitely smaller than the previous one.
As Fat Ma's searchlight illuminated the area, we were surprised to see a stone-carved windmill. It immediately captured our attention; it stood about a meter tall.
The invention of the Ancient Windmill was generally used for irrigation in agricultural projects.
"This should be a burial item too!" said the Mud Man.
Fat Ma expressed his dissatisfaction, "What kind of burial item is this? It can't even be taken out to exchange for money."
"Not all burial items can be exchanged for money," I replied.
Fat Ma countered, "In my understanding, only valuable things can be considered burial items."
I was momentarily speechless. Fat Ma may have been rough around the edges, but he spoke the truth!
Next to the windmill was a rectangular stone-carved trough. I guessed it was a model made based on something real.
"What’s there to see?" Fat Ma said. We ignored him; he couldn't leave anyway since he was the only one with a light source. Out of boredom, he leaned against the windmill, putting his entire weight on it and humming a tune.
The Mud Man and I were closely examining the wind vent. "Hey, look here," the Mud Man said. I shifted my gaze to what appeared to be something like a handbrake.
I placed my hand on it; it could move, so I slowly shifted it.
In the next moment, accompanied by a loud clank from Fat Ma, he jumped back with a scream, shouting, "There's a ghost! There's a ghost!"
I glanced over and saw that the windmill had actually moved.
I explained the cause to Fat Ma, and he calmed down. Intrigued, he joined us in fiddling with it.
I stopped my hand, and the windmill ceased its rotation.
"Old Sun, don’t stop!" Fat Ma urged.
I responded by pulling the handbrake down a bit, and the windmill began to turn slowly, making a clattering sound.
The windmill turned with great difficulty; I felt that if I loosened my grip for even a moment, it would immediately snap back. Pushing it down further was becoming a challenge, and I struggled a bit since my hand had been injured earlier.
Fat Ma noticed my condition and came over, pushing it down with force until it was fully engaged.
The windmill paused for a moment before spinning wildly, catching the three of us off guard as we stumbled backward.
A strong gust of wind whipped around us, causing our clothes to flutter.
I was astonished; the speed of the windmill was such that its outline was becoming hard to discern.
Suddenly, an even more incredible scene unfolded: water began to accumulate slowly in the trough. "This is bizarre!" I exclaimed. The 'Ghost Lantern' above us started to sway, and the shadows on the ground began to ripple.
"This is bad! We need to shut this down quickly! This is basically a Water Gate!" I warned. As soon as I finished speaking, the Mud Man rushed forward, pulling with all his might to try and close the Water Gate, but his strength clearly wasn't enough.
At that moment, I looked up at the 'Ghost Lantern'; the flame flickered high for a moment before dropping low enough that it almost extinguished.
Fat Ma joined in, and together we managed to close the Water Gate. The windmill stopped turning, and the flame gradually returned to normal.
We all breathed a sigh of relief.
Water from the Stone Trough had already spilled over slightly. "Damn, where is this water coming from?" Fat Ma cursed.
I was equally puzzled; it was clearly a dry area—how could water suddenly appear?
"The problem might be with the Stone Trough," the Mud Man suggested.
Following his lead, I reached into the Stone Trough and felt something inside—a button that could be pressed down.
I nodded, indicating that the analysis by the clay figure was correct.
To avoid a similar situation from happening again, we kept our distance from the windmill.
The beam from Fat Ma's searchlight should have a clear range of about three to four meters; beyond that, things became somewhat blurry.
The flame of the Ghost Lantern was no longer as steady as when we first entered; it flickered slightly from side to side.
We couldn't stay here! I had a feeling something might go wrong.
The floor of the tomb was not flat; it sloped downward.
Fat Ma's light illuminated the ground, revealing faint scratches, likely caused by dragging some heavy object.
After taking a few more steps, I kept my eyes on the ground and suddenly spotted bloodstains. However, they had dried up and turned black.
I touched the pen holder in my pocket; it seemed to have some connection to this place.
Fat Ma saw me crouching down and asked, "What's wrong, Old Sun?"
I shook my head and stood up.
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