“Don’t… don’t…” Bisa Zhu didn’t know what else to say besides repeating “don’t.” Actually, whatever he said would have been superfluous, because for someone who had already suffered from severe mental illness and had been unable to release his emotions for a long time, words were useless!
Thus, a classic family letter emerged.
“You tell me what to write,” said Zhang Shusheng.
“Just write that I’ve struck it rich out here, so they don’t need to run around bare-assed anymore,” said Bisa Zhu.
Zhang Shusheng couldn’t help but laugh: “Brother, no offense, but that’s too vulgar. When writing home, it should at least be decent. Whether you have literary talent or not doesn’t matter. The key is that some things should be avoided—for instance, like the word ‘ass’ you mentioned just now.”
“What difference does it make? My family will understand what I mean when I say that. If you write in fancy words, they won’t understand at all and will think I’m just fooling them.”
Zhang Shusheng’s next words completely reassured Bisa: “Don’t worry, they’ll definitely understand.”
Zhang Shusheng poured all his knowledge into writing a truly classic letter home, working from morning until night before finally finishing.
Regardless of whether it was well-written or not, just from the perspective of his conscientious attitude, he truly moved Bisa Zhu.
“Good buddy, I can’t let you work for free. Here, take this!” Saying this, Bisa Zhu took out a silver dollar from his chest and threw it onto the table.
But to his surprise, Zhang Shusheng, a man with a bit of scholarly integrity, refused.
“Are you looking down on me?” Bisa Zhu was slightly angry.
“You’re wrong. The fact that you came to me to write this letter is already a great honor for my family. If I were to take your money now, it would be even worse!”
“Good brother!” Bisa Zhu patted Zhang Shusheng’s thin shoulder.
As Bisa Zhu reached the door, he suddenly turned back: “Would you like to change your profession?”
“Change my profession?” Zhang Shusheng looked puzzled.
“Yes, change your profession!”
“All I can do is write…”
“Writing has a bright future, but the problem is…”
“The problem is I’m not good at it, and I’m not cut out for calligraphy.”
Bisa Zhu laughed, and so did Zhang Shusheng.
“What do you mean by changing professions?”
“Earning money—big money!” Bisa Zhu smiled mysteriously.
“What kind of business?”
“Grave robbing!”
“Grave… grave robbing?” Zhang Shusheng didn’t understand the secret term for tomb raiding.
“If you’re serious about it, come find me tomorrow at the village land god temple on the west side of the village. I’ll be waiting for you,” Bisa Zhu winked and left.
The next day, Zhang Shusheng went, and to everyone’s surprise, they hit it off immediately.
This time, when Zhang Shusheng was selected to enter the rat hole, he barely dared to breathe and said to Jia Zhuangyuan: “Brother Zhuangyuan, if I don’t make it out, please find me a ghost wife. Don’t let me die a bachelor!”
Jia Zhuangyuan found this amusing and laughed: “Tell me, how many wives do you want?”
“Just one will do!” Zhang Shusheng replied honestly.
Jia patted his head: “Brother will make it happen for you. Go on, the Buddha will protect you!”
But in this world, you don’t believe in ghosts, yet coincidentally, Zhang’s words came true. After he had been inside for a while, there was no sound.
Jia Zhuangyuan’s heart raced—was Zhang Shusheng alive or dead?
Jia Zhuangyuan trembled with anxiety, an ominous feeling accelerating his heartbeat.
He gritted his teeth, grabbed a shovel, and went in.
With only a dim light, he felt his way along the wall.
It was hot and dry in the desert, but here it was another world: cold, surprisingly cold; damp, with a chill and moisture that seemed to rush toward him.
Jia Zhuangyuan tightly gripped the shovel in his hand while scanning the surroundings with his eyes. Suddenly, he tripped and nearly fell. He quickly raised the lamp and saw—a gourd-shaped object—human skull!
A gradually intensifying smell of blood directly invaded Jia Zhuangyuan’s nose. He was too familiar with this stench, having spent so much time dealing with mummies. All kinds of ominous feelings told him: Zhang Shusheng was dead! He had heroically sacrificed his life for the glorious cause of grave robbing!
“After all, Shusheng was just a scholar. He could write and paint, but if he wanted to come here and play the part of a grave robber, hmpf!” Jia Zhuangyuan sneered, reminding himself at the same time: “Be careful, could it be my turn next?”
Still, he shouted into the depths with a glimmer of hope: “Zhang Shusheng!”
The result was just as he had imagined: no response. The only sound that eventually reached his ears was his own hoarse voice echoing back.
Those damned rats were certainly watching him with evil eyes as he ventured deeper.
Zhuangyuan, you’re going in. If you go any further, you’ll end up like Zhang!
This timely psychological warning came at just the right moment. Before one’s mind is completely overwhelmed by fear, it’s best to retain a bit of clarity.
He retreated. In other words, he decided to try a different approach.
After coming out, Jia Zhuangyuan dared not be careless. Even outside the cave, fighting two giant rats alone would almost certainly result in serious injury, if not death.
After thinking it over, there seemed to be only one solution: set a fire.
For an experienced grave robber, this method was nothing unusual.
Thus, a fire began to burn. Initially, it didn’t seem very effective. However, as time passed, it proved increasingly useful, because Jia Zhuangyuan began to hear the rats screeching.
“You damn bastards, go die in hell!” Jia Zhuangyuan vented all his anger onto the fire, continuously throwing more firewood into the cave.
However, the two rats did not wait passively for death. Several times, they tried to escape the flames, but probably fearing becoming “roast rats,” they returned to the cave after several attempts.
Seeing this, Jia Zhuangyuan became even more confident.
Thus, there was only one result: the fire burned even more fiercely.
The effect was remarkable, which could be described by a Chinese idiom: immediate results.
Before long, no more rat sounds could be heard. Jia Zhuangyuan guessed they had gone to meet their ancestors, but he remained cautious, continuing to burn the cave for another ten or so minutes before finally feeling reassured.
Going inside to retrieve the bodies of his comrades? That wasn’t a good idea. If those two beasts were still alive, wouldn’t he be throwing his own life away?
No “what-ifs”—those two rats weren’t burned to death, but instead suffocated by the smoke.
Jia Zhuangyuan solemnly knelt facing the cave entrance: “Brothers, I, Jia Zhuangyuan, feel deeply ashamed—deeply ashamed. I didn’t go with you to the end!”
Though he said this aloud, the dead are gone forever, while the living must go on living.
Jia Zhuangyuan decided to leave—not heading into the desert, but going home…
However, a question continued to bother him: Could these two rats actually be the sacred objects of worship in the ancient Shamanist religion? The Shamanist faith had once dominated the religious landscape of Tibet.
The theoretical foundation of Shamanism is animism, with a preference for nature worship and totemism.
Its objects of worship are extremely broad, including various gods, animals, plants, and even inanimate natural objects and phenomena. In other words, rats could indeed be divine beings. Therefore, in the burial goods—or at least in the murals—of ancient tombs belonging to the Tibetan shamanist priests, there was a high possibility of finding images of rats. It’s somewhat similar to keeping pets at home, except that their status was much higher—in other words, they had become objects of worship, with their eating, drinking, and other needs well taken care of.
Shamanism was likely the world’s oldest religion, predating Christianity, Buddhism, and Islam. However, while Christianity, Buddhism, and Islam are considered mainstream religions, Shamanism was merely a small, unstructured religion without a formal religious organization or a specific founder, lacking temples and unified, standardized religious rituals, which is why it never became a major world religion. In fact, the history of Shamanism may be as old as modern humanity itself—even existing before the dawn of civilization, during the time when people still hunted with stone tools.
Shamans were professionals in the practice of Shamanism, often transmitting their knowledge orally and through demonstration within their tribes and clans across generations. However, with the disintegration of primitive communes and the emergence of class society, Shamanism gradually declined, and the upper echelons of society gradually converted to Tibetan Buddhism, Christianity, and Islam.
The problem is, among some ethnic minorities in China, Shamanism still holds considerable influence. These two giant rats might have been objects of worship maintained by some landlord families, or perhaps they were sacrificial offerings buried alongside the tomb owner to continue their worship in the afterlife.
In any case, Jia Zhuangyuan had no time to contemplate these complicated religious historical issues—though someone else might study them in the future.
As the sun was about to set, Jia Zhuangyuan finished telling his story.
Indeed, it was a very sorrowful tale. Don’t just think about how some lucky people strike it rich overnight in the tomb robbing business. From ancient times until now, countless people have died in this profession. Compared to today’s high-risk industries like coal mining, this profession is even more dangerous. You know there are traps everywhere inside, yet you still have to go in.
Seeing that Jia Zhuangyuan hadn’t responded, Fan Debiao grew impatient and asked: “Senior Jia, what exactly are your plans?”
Still shaken by the terrifying tomb raiding incident, Jia Zhuangyuan simply replied: “Let’s eat first. After all, it’s not dark yet.”
Seeing Jia Zhuangyuan stalling for time, Fan Debiao and Liu Dashao became even more anxious: “We came all this way, not just to have a couple of bowls of millet rice at your place!”
Jia Zhuangyuan glanced at his wife, who had stopped eating. Liu Dashao was quick to notice—Jia was waiting for his wife to speak. Unfortunately, for married men, in certain matters, they must listen to their wives’ opinions and suggestions. On this point, neither Liu Dashao nor Fan Debiao had the right to object.
After a long while, his wife finally sighed: “Old Jia, your madness, regardless of anything else, was cured by these two young men. They saved your life. I have nothing more to say…” She exhaled deeply.
Only then did Jia Zhuangyuan feel relieved and said: “Originally, I swore I’d hang up my boots forever and never step foot in the desert again. But I can’t stop worrying about those five brothers. At the very least, they deserve a proper burial place. Once they’re laid to rest properly, I can die peacefully.”
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