When Sun Fatty and I were chasing after the yellow sheep, Hao Wenming and Ouyang Pianzuo had already spotted us. They even had Po Jun dig out the large iron pot left behind by the archaeological team, cleaned it thoroughly, and started heating water to stew meat.
Unexpectedly, Sun Fatty and I ran farther and farther. By the time they tried calling us, our phones were already out of service. Hao Wenming became worried, handed the surface situation over to Ouyang Pianzuo, and came down with Po Jun to search for us.
But now it seems Hao Wenming has found something even more interesting. He was unusually intrigued by the six petro-monuments. After examining them for a long while, he suddenly made a remark that overturned the Bureau of Paranormal Investigation's earlier assessment—this place was not the ruins of the Great Yuezhi Kingdom.
Sun Fatty and I didn't care much. Whatever kingdom this place belonged to made no difference to us. But it was a different matter for Po Jun. He had been with the Bureau for quite a few years and understood the significance of such things. He said, "Boss Hao, are you sure about that? It was Director Gao who officially confirmed this as the Great Yuezhi ruins."
Hao Wenming finally tore his gaze away from the petro-monuments and gave Po Jun an unsatisfied look. "Who told you that Gao Fatty can't make mistakes? All of you, come over here—I'll give you a little history lesson."
Placing his hand on one of the petro-monuments, Hao Wenming said, "I'm telling you, this is no ordinary stone pillar. Its academic name is petro-monument. Before the Shang and Zhou dynasties, these were used to record the daily life and routines of kings. To put it simply, it was like the emperor's personal journal.
"Toward the end of the Western Zhou Dynasty, King You of Zhou infamously lit the beacon towers to amuse his consort Bao Si, ultimately getting himself killed by the Quanrong tribes. When King Ping of the Eastern Zhou succeeded the throne, he read the petro-monuments recording King You's shameful deeds and felt they disgraced the royal house of Zhou. He ordered all such monuments destroyed. Since then, no petro-monuments were passed down through history."
Sun Fatty glanced at Hao Wenming and then at the six petro-monuments on the ground. "That doesn't make sense, Boss Hao. If they were all destroyed, what are these six doing here?"
"Did I say I was finished?" Hao Wenming glared at him before continuing, "During the Shang Dynasty, King Xuan formed a marriage alliance with the ancient Zhi Kingdom. Among the betrothal gifts were six petro-monuments.
"Legend has it that over a century later, the ruler of the Zhi Kingdom—King Baijie—fell into heresy. Upon his death, he was buried with a live sacrifice of 3,000 children, angering the heavens. Overnight, a sandstorm buried the entire Zhi Kingdom, covering its 5,000-li territory. Not a single soul escaped. Judging from what we've found, this might be the site of the ancient Zhi Kingdom."
Hearing Hao Wenming's explanation, I finally started paying attention to the petro-monuments. Each was the size of a stone mill, densely engraved with tiny characters no larger than a fly's head. The script didn't resemble the writing of the Central Plains; rather, it looked like musical notes or tadpoles on a stave. The surface of the petro-monuments was coated with a wax-like material. I asked, "Boss Hao, they even waxed the petro-monuments? Did they have that kind of tech back then?"
"It's not exactly waxing," Hao Wenming replied. "They melted amber and coated the stone. It helps protect the monument from erosion over time."
Sun Fatty circled around one of them and asked, "Boss Hao, what's written on these? Do they mention how many consorts King Baijie visited in a single night?"
Hao Wenming gave him a helpless look. "Can you be a little more serious?"
I took the opportunity to wave at Director Hao, signaling that I had something to say.
Hao Wenming continued, "Can't you be more like Lazhi, ask something that actually makes sense? Lazhi, what did you want to say?"
Seeing that Hao Wenming had no intention of leaving anytime soon, I half-jokingly asked, "Boss Hao, do any of the petro-monuments describe a way out of here?"
His expression immediately changed—awkward and a little resigned.
Before he could respond, Po Jun came over and whispered, "Uh, Lazhi, come here a sec. I need to tell you something."
He pulled me aside and said in a low voice, "So, um... Hao and I... we kinda fell down here by accident too." His words left me speechless. All of us were here now, and none had made it down intentionally. Four accidental explorers.
Sun Fatty hadn't heard what Po Jun said, but his time working undercover had honed his reading of people. From the look on my face, he guessed most of it. "Po Jun, you and Boss Hao didn't choose to come down here either, huh?" Po Jun dropped his head in shame, confirming it.
Trying to comfort Hao Wenming, Sun Fatty said, "Don't worry. If we're gone too long, Director Ouyang will send someone to find us." But his words only made things worse. Hao Wenming was already mortified. Imagine, losing his entire team just to chase a yellow sheep. How would he face anyone at the Bureau after this?
No one spoke. The atmosphere grew heavy.
"I'm telling you, there is a way out," Hao Wenming suddenly said, quite out of the blue. While we were still trying to process his words, he added, "It looks like this is the tomb of King Baijie of the Zhi Kingdom. Royal tombs of the Zhi Kingdom followed a 'one chamber, nine alcoves' layout—one main chamber to hold the king's remains, and nine surrounding alcoves to store burial goods.
"Most importantly, the chambers were interconnected. The kings of the Zhi Kingdom believed themselves descended from the gods. Death was merely a return to the heavens, so the royal coffin chambers were always built with a secret passage leading back to the surface, for the king's spirit to ascend again."
I caught the implication. "So what you're saying is—if we find the main chamber, we'll find the way out?"
"Exactly." Hao Wenming nodded. "Find the main tomb, and we'll be able to leave."
Sun Fatty was fired up. "What are we waiting for then? Let's find it!" He pulled out the lighter I had lent him earlier and began inspecting the room.
The stone chamber wasn't exactly small, but it wasn't huge either. At least it was spacious—other than the six petro-monuments, there was nothing else decorative or useful.
After circling the place five or six times, Sun Fatty started to lose steam. Forget hidden passages—even a crack in the wall or floor was nowhere to be found.
"Looks like we'll have to wait for Director Ouyang's rescue." He flopped down on the floor.
But Hao Wenming wasn't about to admit defeat. Frowning, he circled the petro-monuments a few times and then said, "Po Jun, help move these petro-monuments."
Before Sun Fatty or I could do anything, Po Jun had already taken off his shirt and squared up to one of the stones. The guy was built like a Greek statue—and standing over two meters tall, it was enough to make Sun Fatty and me dizzy just watching.
He didn't need any help. With a grunt, Po Jun shoved the nearly 900-pound petro-monument forward a few meters. Meanwhile, it took all the strength Sun Fatty and I had just to budge another one less than a meter. I was already panting, and Sun Fatty had started twitching all over.
Just as I was about to try pushing the petro-monument again, Po Jun let out a low shout from beside me, "Got something! There's something underneath!" He had just pushed aside the second petro-monument, revealing a circular bronze ring embedded in the ground. After all these years, the ring was completely covered in green rust, its original color no longer visible.
Hao Wenming squatted down and pried the ring out. Attached to the underside of the ring was a bronze chain five or six meters long, the other end firmly anchored to the ground. He gave it a few tugs—solid as a rock, not the slightest sign of looseness.
Director Hao let go of the ring and gave Po Jun a chin nod. "Po Jun, lift it."
Po Jun stepped up, grabbed the bronze ring, and yanked hard. With a thunderous rumble, the ground within a radius of two or three meters shook violently around the chain's center. Po Jun gritted his teeth, muscles taut all over his body, let out a low roar, and gave one final mighty pull. A stone slab, two meters square, flipped open with a crash.
Beneath the slab was a flight of stone steps leading downward into the darkness—so deep you couldn't see the bottom.
Hao Wenming studied the stairs for a while, then asked, "Anyone got a lighter?" I glanced at Sun Fatty. He grinned and said, "I've got one, but it's out of fuel." As he spoke, he flicked the striker, producing a few sparks.
Unexpectedly, Po Jun pulled out a lighter and handed it over. "Here, Hao. Don't scratch it."
Hao Wenming shot him a glare. "Cut the crap. I'll get you a whole box when we're out."
Po Jun sure was generous… Wait a second, why does that lighter look so damn familiar? Damn—it's my limited-edition Dunhill! I glared at Po Jun, but he just smiled back innocently. "Lazi, you found it. Hao says he'll get you a whole box when we're out."
Found my ass! If Hao Wenming gives me anything, it'll be a whole box of knock-offs at best.
Hao Wenming lit the lighter and tossed it down the stairs. The flame danced downward, all the way to the bottom. By the flickering light, we could make out a chamber below—looked like a warehouse of sorts. It was too dark to see what exactly was inside, but there was definitely a dense mass of objects down there.
Since the flame didn't weaken, that meant there was enough air down there.
"Let's go," Director Hao ordered, just as he was about to head down first, Sun Fatty mumbled, "Weren't we supposed to go back up? Why are we going further down?"
Once Hao Wenming led the team to the next level, I quickly followed and picked up the lighter from the floor. That little thing had cost me nearly a month's allowance back in the day. Thankfully, it wasn't badly scratched—unless you looked really close, you wouldn't notice the fine lines.
While I was retrieving my lighter, Hao Wenming, Po Jun, and Sun Fatty were already surveying the surroundings. Sun Fatty gasped in awe, "Damn, this must be the Hundred-Joint King's armory!"
Bundles and stacks of weapons like bows and curved blades were piled across the floor—probably more than ten thousand pieces. After enduring millennia underground, the bow bodies and knife handles were rotten beyond repair. They were little more than shapes—touch them lightly and they crumbled to dust.
Sun Fatty picked up an arrowhead, examined it for a moment, and then tossed it aside with a sigh. "What's the point? The Hundred-Joint King is long dead. What's he gonna do with all these weapons? I mean, seriously…"
"Enough. Who are you trying to imitate?" Hao Wenming cut him off with a sharp glare.
Sun Fatty chuckled awkwardly. "Just slipped out. But really, even for burial goods, this is overkill. What was the Hundred-Joint King planning? Stage a rebellion in the afterlife?"
Hao Wenming frowned. Clearly, he didn't have an answer either. Typically, burial items were things the deceased cherished in life. A few prized swords or sabers—sure. But these weren't exquisite weapons—just a massive quantity. And the ancient Zhi Kingdom wasn't even known for its military strength. To gather this many weapons must have strained the entire nation's resources.
Before Hao Wenming could sort out his thoughts, Po Jun discovered something else and called out, "Hao Tou, come take a look at this." He had uncovered a rusted iron sword in a corner.
"Po Jun, it's just a rusty old sword. What's the fuss?" Sun Fatty clearly expected something more impressive and wasn't amused by the find.
Hao Wenming took the sword and inspected it carefully. Ignoring Sun Fatty's dismissive tone, he snorted and turned to hand the sword to me. "Lazi, what do you think?"
I mimicked his inspection method and took a closer look. The sword was caked with rust, with some parts rusted through entirely—its original form impossible to make out. If not for the dryness and airtight nature of this underground chamber, it would've long since crumbled into dust.
Although the sword itself didn't offer any direct clues, something struck me. "Whether this is the Zhi Kingdom or the Great Yuezhi, they were nomadic cultures. Their weapons should've been curved sabers and bows. This kind of straight iron sword... doesn't fit."
Sun Fatty shook his head. "Maybe the Hundred-Joint King just liked the style of iron swords and imported a few from the Central Plains for burial. If he could bury ten thousand sabers, a couple extra swords wouldn't raise eyebrows."
I shook my head, mimicking his earlier gesture. "According to Hao, the Zhi Kingdom fell during the Shang or early Zhou Dynasty. But iron swords didn't appear until the Warring States period—several centuries later. When the Zhi Kingdom was around, forget iron swords—they hadn't even seen an iron pot."
Hao Wenming nodded in agreement, signaling I was on the right track. Then he asked, "So tell me, what's your take? How did this sword get here?"
I lowered my head in thought before replying, "Two possibilities. One—Hao Tou misjudged the site. This might not be the Zhi royal tomb. Those petro-monuments could have a different origin."
Hao Wenming showed no expression—just stared at the sword in my hand.
I continued, "Second possibility—someone entered this tomb hundreds or even thousands of years ago, and for whatever reason, left their iron sword behind. Personally, I lean toward the second explanation."
Hao Wenming didn't comment. He turned to Po Jun. "What do you think?"
Po Jun said, "I agree with the second idea. When I found the sword, it wasn't placed with the other weapons—it was just randomly dropped on the ground. Looked like someone dropped it while fighting or fleeing."
"If someone left it during an intrusion, they probably weren't tomb robbers," Hao Wenming said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He handed each of us one, lit his own, took a drag, and said, "Let's keep moving. If someone really came in before us, the remaining chambers—including the main tomb—should show more signs."