The current situation of the group didn’t allow for much delay, after all, bullets were not completely exhausted, but food had run out. The sooner they got out, the better. Da Guozao also realized he had been a bit wordy. Picking up a military shovel, he said, “The main palace is right below!” As he finished speaking, he inserted the shovel into the mouth of the funnel. Immediately, he felt his foot slip, and his entire body was sucked straight downward.
After a brief struggle, Liu Dashao finally landed on solid ground. Looking up, he saw there was a hidden door at the mouth of the funnel, which Da Guozao had just triggered open. Liu Dashao looked down and found himself standing on a pile of yellow sand. He hadn’t expected that beneath the soil was actually yellow sand, which explained the excellent cushioning effect.
At this point, everyone got up from the ground, shaking off the yellow sand. Those with flashlights took them out and turned them on. It became clear they were indeed in a tomb chamber. This chamber was not aligned with the one above. The spot where they had fallen was just a corner of this tomb.
In the center of the chamber stood a coffin, looking quite luxurious. There were no burial items around it. When the flashlight beams swept across the walls, everyone’s attention was drawn to a mural behind the coffin.
The flashlight beams shot straight onto the wall, but the distance made it hard to see clearly. Da Guozao gestured for everyone to move closer for a better look. Slowly, the five of them approached the mural, and its content immediately came into view.
The mural’s focal point was a figure wearing Taoist robes and a golden mask, turned sideways toward the group. Who else could this be besides Zhang Jiao? Standing on a sacrificial altar, one hand was behind his back, while the other held up a yellow scripture. At the sight of the scripture, Liu Dashao felt a surge of excitement. Wasn’t this the Taiping Jing (Scripture of Great Peace)? Seeing this, he felt a wave of joy—finding Zhang Jiao’s coffin was definitely the right move.
Liu Dashao couldn’t take his eyes off the scripture. After a while, he noticed that the scripture seemed especially detailed in its depiction, with vivid textures and clearly visible details. It was not hard to imagine that this scripture must have been one of Zhang Jiao’s most treasured possessions.
As Liu Dashao carefully examined other details, Fan Debiao suddenly shrieked, “Isn’t this altar the same stone slab we saw upstairs?”
Hearing Fan Debiao’s words, Liu Dashao took another close look at the mural’s background. Indeed, the layout of the scene bore a striking resemblance—about seventy to eighty percent—to the environment they had just left. Given the artistic style of the painting, such similarity was enough to confirm it was the same place.
Then, Liu Dashao thought of the terrifying hole they had seen earlier. He scanned the mural and indeed found a cave exactly where Zhang Jiao was facing. But the scene depicted there left Liu Dashao stunned.
It showed countless tendrils emerging from the stone walls, converging toward the cave. At the same time, large numbers of fire beetles were crawling out of the water toward the cave. Most astonishing of all, a giant tongue extended from inside the cave, scooping up the tendrils and fire beetles at the entrance.
Liu Dashao inhaled sharply and exclaimed, “What kind of monster is this? Such a huge tongue!”
Because this scene was hidden in the most inconspicuous part of the mural, Liu Dashao’s exclamation made everyone notice it for the first time. Upon hearing him, they all gathered closer.
Jackson was the first to cry out, “Dragon! This is a dragon’s tongue. Oh my God, how evil!”
Fan Debiao said, “What? You call a dragon evil? Except for you, all of us are descendants of the dragon. If dragons were really evil, you wouldn’t still be alive—you’d have gone to meet your whatever tire god long ago.” He then pointed at the mural and continued, “Look here—this tongue is clearly eating those creatures. Since when do dragons eat bugs? That’s just weird.”
In Western countries, unlike in China, dragons were traditionally depicted as evil creatures. Fan Debiao’s misunderstanding amused Liu Dashao a bit. This time, Jackson didn’t argue back. Instead, he pulled a cross from his pocket, held it to his chest, and began murmuring something inaudible, likely a prayer.
Seeing Jackson’s actions, Fan Debiao couldn’t help but laugh, “Wow, do foreigners still go for this kind of stuff?”
Jackson shot Fan Debiao a glare but said nothing. He turned away and continued murmuring, probably in the middle of some kind of ritual and unwilling to waste words.
Liu Dashao turned to Da Guozao and asked, “Da Guozao, you’ve seen more strange things than I’ve eaten meals. Can you tell us what kind of creature owns this tongue?”
Da Guozao replied, “This tongue looks somewhat familiar to me, but when I try to think about it clearly, the memory slips away. But judging from the scene, Zhang Jiao was feeding this creature with tendrils and fire beetles. That means it must be something extraordinary.”
Fan Debiao walked over and said, “Why guess? In my opinion, it’s just a snake’s tongue.”
Hearing Fan Debiao say it was a snake’s tongue, Liu Dashao was speechless. “Are you kidding me? Have you ever heard of a snake with a tongue this massive? Look at how it extends and curls—it’s definitely not a frog’s tongue either. Only someone with such a simple mind could come up with such a simplistic idea.”
Fan Debiao scratched his head and said, “Whatever monster it is, Zhang Jiao has been dead for thousands of years. Without food, that thing must have died long ago. Its bones might have already turned to dust by now.”
Suddenly, a “plop” sound was heard. Turning around, they saw Caiqingchong (Green Caterpillar) had collapsed straight to the ground. Da Guozao quickly supported Caiqingchong on his thigh and checked his pulse. “Not good,” he said, “Caiqingchong is in collapse.”
Hearing this, Liu Dashao asked, “But he seemed fine just a moment ago. How did he collapse so suddenly?”
Da Guozao replied, “Back upstairs, I already noticed something was off with him. Probably excessive blood loss. We must get him to a hospital quickly.”
“Come and help!” Da Guozao said while pushing the lid of the coffin. The lid appeared quite heavy, but seeing Da Guozao’s urgency, Liu Dashao realized this was serious. Everyone rushed to the coffin, placed their hands on it, and pushed together. With a loud “boom,” the lid was finally pushed off. Liu Dashao looked around and realized someone was missing—where was Jackson?
Looking ahead, they saw Jackson sprawled across the coffin, in a rather comical position. He must have pushed too hard and ended up flying forward. The atmosphere was too tense for anyone to laugh. Liu Dashao and Fan Debiao each grabbed one of Jackson’s arms and pulled him down.
Da Guozao then took out a pair of gloves from his pocket, put them on, and began examining the burial objects. The others gathered around.
After a quick look, Da Guozao said, “This is a boat coffin burial—definitely a burial style popular during the Three Kingdoms period.”
Liu Dashao also approached the coffin. Inside, there was indeed a small boat over a meter long. At the bow and stern were burial artifacts, while in the middle lay a tall figure—about 1.8 meters—wearing Taoist robes with a golden mask. This was clearly Zhang Jiao.
The Taoist robe covered the body completely, and the face was hidden behind a mask. It was impossible to tell whether the corpse was well-preserved or not.
The burial artifacts were all Taoist tools commonly used by priests—gold and bronze items, likely quite valuable. However, Liu Dashao only took a small yellow booklet. He had noticed the vertical traditional Chinese characters on its cover: *Taiping Qingling Shu: Human Volume* (The Scripture of Great Peace: Human Volume). As soon as he touched the booklet, Liu Dashao felt a strange electric sensation, as if a flood of data had poured into his mind. But moments later, it all became chaotic and incomprehensible. He didn’t dwell on it and simply stuffed the booklet into Fan Debiao’s backpack.
Da Guozao was an expert. With a single glance, he could identify and sort the burial objects clearly. He picked out two valuable and easily sellable items, placed them in his backpack, and said, “Hurry up. We need to get out of here quickly.”
Fan Debiao said, “Man, this is too anticlimactic. We’re just going to leave like this? No way! We came all this way—we should at least see what Zhang Jiao looks like.” Saying this, he moved to remove the mask.
Liu Dashao thought, “He must have his eyes on this mask. Why not just say so? Why all the show?”
Fan Debiao grabbed the mask, but his first pull wasn’t strong enough. Getting a little nervous, he tugged harder.
Suddenly, everything went dark. Then Da Guozao shouted, “No good! The candle in the southeast corner went out!” Liu Dashao’s heart sank. Oh no—necrosis of the corpse.
Liu Dashao quickly turned on his flashlight and shone it on Fan Debiao, shouting, “Fan Debiao, quick! Get away! The corpse is awake!”
Fan Debiao replied, “It’s not moving at all. This zombie is fine.”
Hearing this, Liu Dashao couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. So much for those ghost stories—turns out they were nonsense. Yet Da Guozao and the others seemed to believe it completely, their foreheads already drenched in cold sweat and faces filled with tension.
Liu Dashao couldn’t bear to watch anymore and urged Fan Debiao to hurry. Waiting any longer wouldn’t be wise.
Fan Debiao kept saying, “Okay, okay,” as he reached down to work on the mask. Just as his hand touched it, he suddenly screamed, “Ahh!”
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