Chapter 269: The Yellow Intestine Puzzle

“I remember it was July. Not long after the six of us entered the desert, the heat became unbearable. One of us, Hu Hansan, was quite fat, and naturally, overweight people are especially sensitive to heat. Sweat poured from his body like a stream, gushing nonstop. Hu complained that he couldn’t stand the heat anymore and said it was better to rob tombs back in Beijing. Of course, everyone knows that the underground palaces are icy cold, with bone-chilling winds blowing, making you sweat from cold instead of heat—truly a great place to escape the summer heat. But there was no turning back now—we had already stepped into the tiger’s den, and there was no way to retreat. The six of us gritted our teeth and pressed forward.”

At this point, Master Jia paused to take a sip of water, then emphasized, “This was the first strange thing we encountered in the desert.”

Master Jia glanced at Liu Dashao and Da Guozhong, then teased, “Guess who we ran into? You’d never guess—Corpse-Drying Sheds! We’ve seen the corpse-moving customs of the Miao people in western Hunan, but never did we expect to see such a corpse-drying custom in the Tibetan desert!”

“At the time, it wasn’t just Hu the Fat who was sweating; even we skinny guys were suffering from the heat. But to keep morale high, none of us showed it—we just kept walking, hoping to find an oasis or a grass hut where we could briefly escape the heat,” Master Jia continued, fully immersed in the memory. “Hu, suffering from the heat, naturally kept a sharp eye out. Suddenly, he pointed ahead and said, ‘Look! Isn’t that a house?’ At the mention of a house, we all felt a glimmer of hope, and strangely, the heat seemed to lessen a bit.”

So the six of them, led by Master Jia, walked toward the house. Finding such a place in the desert was like a lucky gift from the heavens. But when they were just dozens of meters away, Hu suddenly said, “Something’s wrong—it doesn’t seem like a house after all.” As soon as he said that, the other five noticed too: it wasn’t a house at all, just a wooden frame built from several poles.

Something long and dark hung from the beams. As they approached, the six of them couldn’t help but gasp in horror: the crossbeams were lined with hanging corpses—some already dried, others freshly hung.

“Damn it! We never expected to run into this on our first trip into the desert!” Hu muttered, half-closing his eyes under the scorching sun.

Master Jia speculated it might be an execution ground, suggesting it could be a secret gallows where condemned criminals—often notorious gang leaders with dozens of followers—were brought to avoid the risk of a public execution being interrupted by rescue attempts.

Among the six, though Bi Sazhu was thin, he was very clever. His father was a butcher, and he named his son Sazhu, originally wanting to name him “Sazhu” (meaning “Butcher Pig”), but his wife strongly opposed it—she didn’t want her beloved son to follow in his father’s footsteps. So they chose a homophone: “Sazhu.” True to his name, Bi Sazhu inherited his father’s skills and started slaughtering pigs with a knife at the age of five, though he used it rather haphazardly. Later, he joined the Mouxin school.

Sniffing the air, Bi Sazhu asked, “Can anyone here smell something? Does it smell sweet?” At his words, the others finally noticed a faint fragrance in the air, which they had previously overlooked due to the shock of the scene.

Bi Sazhu’s deduction was correct: if these were executed criminals, it wouldn’t make sense to spray perfume on them. Moreover, the corpses showed no signs of injury.

So they speculated: could this be a place specifically for making mummies in the desert? Back then, without formaldehyde to preserve bodies and prevent decay, the Tibetan people had discovered a unique method of creating mummies to prevent rotting.

When it comes to preservation techniques, China has a long and rich history. For thousands of years, various methods have been developed, such as applying preservatives to corpses, especially spices like Chinese camphor and storax, which not only deodorized but also gave the corpses a pleasant fragrance. The ancient Egyptians used myrrh to create “scented corpses”—the mummies found in pyramids.

Another preservation method involved the tomb structure itself. One such method was “Huangchang Ticou,” a burial technique where yellow cedar heartwood was stacked around the coffin chamber. “Huang” refers to the yellow heartwood of cypress trees, and “Ticou” means stacking wooden beams with their ends all facing inward. This stacking method was very sturdy. The coffin chamber was surrounded by a wooden wall, covered with a wooden lid on top, resembling a small house, with side chambers outside. While this technique was originally reserved for emperors, lower-ranking nobles and officials could also use it, though they had to substitute pine or catalpa wood instead of cypress due to strict class restrictions on materials. For example, after the death of General Huo Guang, Emperor Xuan of Han granted him a burial with a catalpa coffin, side chambers, and a Huangchang Ticou structure as a reward for his contributions.

“Huangchang Ticou” symbolized the noble status of the deceased and also served to protect the coffin from damage. However, this burial method was extremely costly, often requiring tens of thousands of cypress beams. Despite the extravagance, ancient aristocrats were willing to pay the price for the best preservation. In short, “Huangchang Ticou” was a preservation technique reserved for the elite, far beyond the means of ordinary people.

Another method was artificial mummification, essentially creating dry corpses. The ancient Egyptian pharaohs were eviscerated, their bodies filled with hot resin, and then wrapped in resin-soaked cloth. Resin was also found in the cranial and mastoid cavities of excavated mummies, effectively preventing decay.

The hanging corpses before them were artificial mummies, affordable even for commoners. Using the dry, hot climate of Tibet, the bodies were naturally dehydrated into mummies. In addition to the Loulan mummies, there were also mummies in Hami, preserved in a way similar to raisins. In extremely arid environments, the moisture in the body evaporates quickly, inhibiting bacterial growth and halting decomposition, thus preserving the body well.

After death, a body is prone to decay, so the process of mummification takes time. Applying aromatic substances to the body is an effective method. The fragrance the six of them had smelled earlier came from the freshly hung corpses.

Just moments ago, Hu Hansan, Jia Yuanzhang, and the others had been suffering from the heat, but now they were so frightened they stuck out their tongues and broke into cold sweats, silently praying to the gods for protection.

To prevent the corpses from reanimating, the pillars and beams were painted with vermilion. In such cases, it was best not to provoke the dead, to avoid attracting impure spirits.

“Well, we didn’t find a house, but at least we found shade,” Bi Sazhu said with a helpless smile.

Some of the mummies were so well-preserved that their blue veins were clearly visible. Hu Hansan, who usually boasted about his bravery, could no longer hold his composure and began vomiting violently.

As the others laughed at Hu, something unexpected happened: several freshly hung corpses began to sway violently!

“Something’s wrong! They’re coming back to life!” Jia Yuanzhang shouted as one of the corpses thrashed wildly, seemingly trying to break free from the ropes binding its hands.

The five men quickly pulled out their black donkey hooves, holding them tightly. Hu Hansan stopped vomiting and immediately took out a handful of glutinous rice, throwing it at the violently shaking corpse. But this time, for some unknown reason, the rice had no effect—the corpse shook even more violently. With no other choice, they had to use the black donkey hooves.

Like throwing grenades, the five men took turns hurling the hooves. They hit the swaying corpse dead-on, and with a “squeak,” the six of them felt a chill run down their spines.

The black donkey hooves seemed to work—the corpse slowly stopped moving. Just as the six of them began to feel relieved, the corpse suddenly shook violently again. Before they could react, two large black objects fell to the ground, making a “squeak” sound that sent chills down their spines.

Thanks to the bright sunlight, they finally saw clearly: two giant rats. Their size was comparable to a small pig, with sharp teeth seemingly designed specifically for eating mummies. Nature truly was amazing—every creature had its predator.

These weren’t ordinary house rats or even ground squirrels. Their nests were usually located forty meters underground in the desert, insulated from the heat. The moisture from their breath also kept the underground air humid. Their teeth were naturally sharp, capable of easily tearing through mummies. Their kidneys could even filter urine and reabsorb most of the water back into their bloodstream, allowing them to reuse water. Thus, even when feeding on mummies, they didn’t need to drink water!

With their sharp teeth, the two rats showed no fear of the six living humans. Instead, they stood their ground, growling angrily as if warning them.

The two sides stood in a tense standoff, neither daring to move. Suddenly, as if they had seen a cat, the two rats dropped the mummy and fled into the distance at full speed. This unexpected turn left the six men stunned, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Jia Yuanzhang, who had learned martial arts from a great tomb raider in his youth, had excellent footwork. He shouted, “Wait for me! I’ll be right back!” and immediately chased after them, his feet moving like the wind.