mural

The tomb passage, shrouded in dust for a millennium, was pitch-black. The flashlight beam yielded no reflection, and Liang Zi remarked that the passage wasn't wide, probably coated with light-absorbing material. One must exercise extreme caution in such tombs; once lost, returning is nearly impossible.

Second Master led the way upfront, passing by two ear chambers without pause. After walking for about ten minutes, the tomb passage noticeably widened, indicating the entrance to the burial chamber.

Sure enough, a massive stone door appeared ahead, dark green in color, adorned with carvings of two giants capturing ghosts. These figures, with three heads and six arms, one entwined with a black dragon, and the other trampling two black pythons, were menacing, more terrifying than malevolent spirits.

Beneath the statues were ghostly inscriptions. Although I hadn't spent much time at the Qinhan Hall, I had never seen such script. Some symbols recurred systematically, suggesting a language limited to a small community in ancient times.

I glanced at Second Master, finding him standing in front of the door, examining it with a flashlight. Surprisingly, he could comprehend the inscriptions.

The bald man instructed someone to photograph the inscriptions with a camera for later decryption. Simultaneously, he asked Second Master, "Second Master, what does it mean?"

Second Master shook his head, "I can't understand it entirely." Saying this, he waved the flashlight over a few lines, "This section roughly mentions that the tomb owner's family had committed numerous murders over generations. Feeling burdened by guilt in old age, the owner sought advice from a Daoist. The suggestion was to spare no effort in building a triple-layered hall, aiding in shedding malevolence, allowing a rebirth with a jade-like body."

Hearing this, Liang Zi sneered, "If only people in ancient times had such enlightenment, our work would be much easier. Killing left and right in their early years, getting scared in their old age, building a grand hall, throwing their lifelong treasures inside, and peacefully finding a place to die. That would be great."

Second Master turned around, glared at him, and Liang Zi shrank back, grinning at me.

The bald man asked, "Second Master, shall we enter?"

"Yes," Second Master nodded, then cautioned, "Tell your men to behave."

The stone door was hefty, requiring four or five people to barely crack it open. A cold wind rushed out from inside, eerie. We entered through the crack, finding a not-so-small space, pitch-black. Second Master instructed everyone to diffuse light with mining lamps, illuminating the entire burial chamber.

The chamber was surrounded by numerous murals, almost perfectly preserved due to the excellent sealing. Above was a dark square platform, and in the center of the chamber was a crimson coffin. In each of the four directions around the coffin were statues of ferocious demons, barefoot and squatting, holding iron chains as thick as an infant's wrist. The heads of the chains were tied to the red coffin, suspended in mid-air.

The bald man rubbed the back of his head and exclaimed, "Goodness, red is the most taboo color in tombs. Does anyone dare to use a red coffin? Aren't they afraid of reanimated corpses?"

Even Liang Zi wore a puzzled expression, "This is like a vow of never surpassing life."

I, however, was drawn to the murals in the burial chamber. Narrative murals played a crucial role in identifying the tomb owner, portraying either praise for the tomb owner's life or documenting their life events. This particular chamber's murals, though, were peculiar, resembling a series of stories.

On the left wall, there were six or seven murals. The first depicted an exceptionally tall figure, commanding slaves to dig mountains, with armored soldiers overseeing the labor. Xiao He also came over, looking and asking, "Is this the tomb owner?"

I shook my head, "Probably not. Look." I pulled him closer, pointing to the tall figure, "Carefully observe the depiction of his attire. What does it resemble?"

Xiao He scrutinized for a while, puzzled, "Daoist robes?"

I nodded, "Exactly. This person is likely the Daoist mentioned outside. He provided advice to the tomb owner, suggesting the construction of a triple-layered hall to rid him of sins and enable rebirth with a jade-like body. Moreover, they probably built it here, and the murals might reveal the secrets of the 'Morning Immortality Tomb.'"

This discovery excited us. Xiao He held the lamp for me, and we hurriedly moved on to the next mural.

The second mural was relatively simple, depicting a group of people gathered around, seemingly having unearthed something. However, the depiction was vague, and even after careful examination, I couldn't discern what it was—a mere black mass representing something unknown.

Suddenly, a memory struck me, sending a chill down my spine. In the craftsmen's logs discovered earlier on the upper floor, they mentioned unearthing something ominous. Could it be related to what the murals described?

Xiao He asked what was wrong. I briefly explained the discovery in the construction logs to him. Xiao He considered for a moment and agreed with my viewpoint. He believed that the 'black substance' depicted in the mural was likely what they unearthed at that time.

What exactly lay in these mountains that enticed three tomb owners to build their mausoleums here? With questions in our minds, we turned to the next mural—a grand and eerie sacrificial scene. The officiator was still the exceptionally tall Daoist, but his face remained hidden throughout the mural, always presented from the back.

The sacrificial ritual was gruesome. Many pregnant women lay on the ground, with others pouring something into their mouths. Subsequently, their mouths and noses were sealed with steaming hot wax, creating a horrifying scene.

This sight made me shiver, and even Liang Zi's face turned unpleasant. "Feeling guilty, yet bringing so many people to accompany in death. This scoundrel deserves to go to hell."

I sneered, "Feeling guilty? Nonsense. This is a sinister practice, likely imported from other regions. The general didn't attain enlightenment; it seems he couldn't bear the idea of dying in his old age and sought longevity. In ancient times, there were many deluded emperors and generals like him."

As we looked at the next mural, the depictions became more bizarre. A red coffin was being carried underground, and on the other side of the mountain, a massive pit appeared. A large group of executioners, with painted faces, continually beheaded tied-up slaves, pushing bodies and heads into the pit—a gruesome and heart-wrenching scene.

I knew this was a mass burial pit, likely filled with the craftsmen who built the mausoleum. Yet, one thing puzzled me. Killing slaves for burial was common in ancient times, but it wasn't a glorified act worth recording in the tomb owner's mausoleum, especially in this burial chamber. These murals clearly followed a linear structure, documenting the tomb owner's process of constructing the triple-layered hall.

While the burial scene made some sense, the sacrificial subplot had no place here. I thought, could there be an unusual event recorded in it?

I asked Xiao He to bring the lamp closer. I

 wanted to examine the sacrificial mural more closely. However, a strange occurrence caught my peripheral vision. In the shadows at the entrance, one of the bald man's subordinates kept turning around, seemingly puzzled.

I inquired about his behavior, and he uncertainly stated that it seemed like someone was standing in the shadow at the entrance.