?

  Fatso lowered his voice and cursed, "Damn it, this old rice ball smiled, naive, you show some skin in front of him, he won't take a liking to you." I scolded Fatso for being heartless and intentionally trying to sabotage me, just as I was about to give him a good lesson, a large, fat hand suddenly reached out from behind the old rice ball.

  I counted, and there were three hands in total. Immediately afterwards, another hand stretched out from the shoulder of the rice dumpling, and the fat man exclaimed: "Damn it, this is a relative of Wan Nu Wang!" As soon as he finished speaking, the strange smile on the rice dumpling's face suddenly froze, and then that chanting sound started again.

  The current scene is simply bizarre, a corpse that can recite scriptures, a corpse that can move is right in front of us, and there isn't even a coffin here, it's a direct confrontation.

  The small harpoon gun in my hand was aimed directly at the corpse, thinking that if it were to rise, I would immediately fire, but I suddenly thought that this wasn't actually a mountain, but an ice cave, which couldn't withstand the shock of gunfire. If we fired, we'd probably be buried alive inside. At once, I kept a close eye on the corpse's movements while shouting to Chubby: "Put down the gun, get out the rope."

  Fatso said, "Need you to say that." I took a look and indeed Fatso was already on high alert, with the rope dagger twisted in his hand. I pondered the situation before us and said, "This Zongzi hasn't made its move yet, let's retreat first and leave for now."

  Fatso said, "Even if we retreat, there's no way out, it's still a dead end. Let's take the initiative and see how I tie this thing up." He tossed one end of the rope to me, gave me a signal with his eyes, and said, "Go!" I understood what Fatso meant - waiting for it to resurrect would be even more troublesome. So we both pounced on it at the same time. Fatso moved forward, the rope crossing over the zombie's chest, and then he kicked it away. The zombie's entire body fell backwards, and at the same time, the two extra hands that had appeared on its shoulders suddenly disappeared with a whooshing sound.

  What's going on?

  I quickly looked over and found that the corpse had fallen down, revealing a dark hole where it was originally blocked. The hole was only as wide as a bucket, and a child could probably crawl through it. And those two extra hands were sticking out from inside.

  "Bad, these zongzi have all been frozen stiff, they don't look like they can be revived." If it weren't for the fact that this place was too cold, I'm afraid I would have broken out in a cold sweat. I said to Bao Zi: "What's with the chanting sound just now?"

  The fat boy kicked the zongzi with one foot, pointed to the hole behind the zongzi and said in a low voice: "There's something inside."

  I thought to myself, isn't this nonsense? At that moment, my gaze fell on the corpse again, and I was taken aback. I discovered that although the clothes on the corpse were tattered and faded, they could still be vaguely identified as the style worn by Tibetan lamas. This made me think of Grandfather's words in He Lao's notes. The reason why Grandfather went to find the Seven Star Lu Wang Palace back then was because a lama had given him a map of the tomb before he died.

  The map records three locations, namely the Seven Star Lu Wang Palace, the Wu Shan Xiao Zi Mu, and the Tian Yuan Guan. These three tombs are located in Shandong, Kunlun, and Wu Shan Xiao Zi Mu, which seems to be in the Xiang-Shu area based on its name. The distances between these places are quite far apart, with Kunlun Mountain being an exception, while the other two locations are in the Central Plains region. How could a trumpet have a map of the Central Plains?

  So why did this lama die here in front of me? How many years has he been here, what was his purpose? I think this trumpet is not simple, and immediately gave a wink to the fat man, letting him notice something at the entrance of the cave. Then I flipped over the body, took out a pair of autopsy gloves, and started searching for things on the corpse's body.

  Fatso shone his flashlight into the dark hole, saying to me, "Tianzhen, you really like this zongzi, the flavor is too heavy." I didn't have time to bother with Fatso, and in this situation, I wasn't in the mood to bicker with him, so I focused on rummaging through the things on the corpse's body.

  At this time, I found that the face of the corpse had returned to its normal state, and the strange smile I saw earlier seemed to be just my illusion. To be on the safe side, I still tied up the corpse before reaching out to touch it. Due to the low temperature, the corpse was well-preserved, with no signs of decay, and the skin and flesh were frozen stiff, with sunken facial features and a vague appearance that suggested an age of around fifty at the time of death.

  I reached into his clothes and felt around for a bit, suddenly I touched something hard, took it out and looked at it, it was a thangka.

  Fatso had been gazing intently at the hole, and now he caught sight of me taking something out. He immediately moved to my side, looked at what was in my hand, his eyes shining brightly, and said: "Treasure!"

  Although I don't know much about Tibetan culture, thangkas come in many varieties and are often more valuable the larger and more exquisite they are. The one I have is only as big as an adult's palm and already looks quite old, so if I could sell it for 2,000 yuan, I'd be laughing all the way to the bank.

  I immediately started teasing Fatso, saying: "Fatso, after staying in Paris for a year, not only did you spend all your money, but your eyesight has also deteriorated. If you really want to mix it up, when we get back to Hangzhou I'll give you two pieces of advice." Fatso snorted and scolded me for being ignorant, then went on to tell me about the classification of Tangka.

  He said that Thangkas are now more expensive the bigger and more exquisite they are, but that's a comparison within the same category. Different categories of Thangkas cannot be compared by size.

  Thangkas are mainly classified by material and content, commonly seen are Buddha image thangkas which Tibetans put in their homes for worship. Some thangkas depict animals or some abstract things like the sky and earth, wind and clouds, this type of thangka is relatively rare, mostly with high appreciation value but still a niche product with low market value.

  There is also a special type, that is, the evil card. This kind of Tangka is first carved with a wooden mold, and then cast with gold water, and then colored. Due to its high cost, most of them are made very small, and they are extremely rare in the market. They were only available to wealthy Tibetan families in the past.

  "My specialty is in the field of expansion, but Fatso is a jack-of-all-trades, knowledgeable and insightful. At a glance, he noticed that this was a pure gold card that had been poured out, only to have turned dark due to age, becoming tarnished gold. The original colors on its surface had also faded away, making it impossible to discern the image. Fatso analyzed: 'Judging from the aged appearance of the gold, it's at least a thousand years old. This rice dumpling doesn't seem like a thousand-year-old relic either; I reckon it was obtained later.'"

  I couldn't help but take a closer look at the golden Tangka, and although the colors had faded, I could still make out the basic outline of the painting. As I looked more closely, my heart skipped a beat, for it seemed as though a pair of deep, mysterious eyes were staring back at me.

  In the center of that thangka, a wolf-headed deity stood in the midst of drifting snow mountains, its emotionless eyes staring at the person viewing the painting. In an instant, I felt a chill run down my spine - it was Kurai Dzadze.

  I told the legend I had heard to Fatso, but he didn't believe it at all. He ridiculed me, saying: "You knowledge youth are just fond of mysticism. That Songzan Gambo, who knows if he's not a charlatan? But anyway, as far as I know, in Tibet, there aren't many people who worship Zanba."

  "You also know?"

  Fatso said, "I eat more salt than you eat rice, Comrade. You still have a lot to learn. This Zan Sheng Shen is said to be an evil god, although he governs longevity, but it's said that his methods are very evil, and his thangkas are rare." I asked Fatso how he knew this, and he said, "I heard it from somewhere." I scolded him, saying, "You're also shameless enough to bring up something you just overheard!" After finishing speaking, I felt that Fatso was unreliable, so I threw the thangka back at him and turned to examine the corpse again. Who knew that as soon as I lowered my head, a ferocious and strange smile suddenly appeared before my eyes? This corpse had somehow opened its sunken eyelids, with dark eye sockets staring at me, the corners of its mouth curled up all the way to its ears, revealing an extremely sinister grin.

  I took a sudden look and was so scared that my soul almost flew away. Before I could react, the corpse's lips suddenly moved, and at this time, a black insect like a centipede crawled out of his mouth, raised its head, as if looking at me.

  I hastily retreated, my heart still racing as I stared at the insect, then looked back at the corpse and asked Fatso: "What's going on here?" Before Fatso could respond, a faint noise suddenly came from within the cave. Instinctively, I glanced towards the dark entrance of the cave, but saw nothing.

  Where did the sound come from?

  At this time, the fat man suddenly pointed at the corpse and said: "It." The voice became clearer and clearer, and finally I heard it. It was actually a chanting voice again. Had Fatty and I misjudged earlier? Wasn't the source of the sound the thing in the cave, but rather the lama corpse in front of us?

  I and Pangzi looked at each other, simultaneously tightening our grip on the daggers in our hands. At this moment, I suddenly noticed that the small insect-like creature, similar to a centipede, was constantly moving back and forth on the corpse's body, seemingly without any danger. It resembled a centipede, about the length of a human finger, with a flat body, but had two extremely long antennae on its head. As the antennae oscillated back and forth, the soft chanting sound grew faster and faster. At this moment, I suddenly remembered what my third uncle told me.

  In my memory, my father was always very strict, and my second uncle was very gloomy. In the memories of my childhood, most of the time it was my third uncle who took me everywhere to play. When my third uncle calmed down, he liked to hold me in his arms and tell me all sorts of folk tales, some of which were his personal experiences, while others might have been made up by him. But every time, he would scare me so much that I didn't dare sleep at night. At night, when I wanted to share a bed with him, he would instead tell two ghost stories, scaring me into shrinking under the quilt all night, almost suffocating myself.

  I remember in Third Uncle's stories, there was one called Echo Insect.

  Older generations have a term to describe people like Li Si, who immediately echoes what others say. For example, if Zhang San says that the melon is growing well, Li Si will quickly respond with "Yes, yes, this melon is indeed growing very well." People like Li Si are often referred to as "应声虫" (ying sheng chong), meaning they simply parrot what others say.

  But the echo is indeed an entity with its own substance.

  It is said that it was an insect that looked like a centipede and had a strange vocal ability. In ancient times, some people made a living by performing arts, including the art of dialogue, where one person could imitate two people talking at the same time, or even say two sentences simultaneously. This was considered a wonderful thing at the time, and it was all thanks to the insect's talent.

  The performer catches this kind of insect for training, teaching it fixed words and phrases. When performing, the insect is placed on the body, and a conversation with the insect is conducted word by word. At that time, there was no recording device, so in the eyes of the ancients, it was quite a magical thing.

  For the phenomenon that cicadas can spit out human words, ancient people thought it was a soul attached to the insect's body, so cicadas were also considered inauspicious evil spirits. This thing is generally not recognizable by ordinary people and will be confused with centipedes. If it weren't for this situation, I'm afraid I would have mistaken it for a centipede too.

  It seems that the change in facial expression of the corpse just now was probably caused by the sound insect moving in its mouth, which pulled the facial muscles.

  I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief, and I patted the fully alert Fatty on the back, saying: "Alright, take a break." Fatty still hadn't come to his senses, and with a serious expression, he charged at the rice ball with his sword drawn. I walked forward, picked up the cricket, which was struggling in fear, and the chanting sound finally stopped.

  Pangzi suddenly looked puzzled and exclaimed, "Is there a centipede in this icy cold place?" I was just about to explain things to Pangzi when a pair of fat, swollen hands suddenly appeared on his shoulders.

  I widened my eyes and hastily shouted: "Fatty, behind you!" At the same time, I didn't care about anything else, instantly pulled out the dagger from my waist and rushed up. Fatty immediately reacted, dodged to one side, and rolled on the ground, but his body was too fat, he only managed to roll halfway before his foot was caught by that pair of hands. This time I saw clearly, those hands were stretched out from that hole.

  I shouted loudly: "Fatty!" and rushed over, stabbing one of the hands with all my might. A burst of minced meat splashed out, and at the same time, the two arms suddenly contracted with incredible force, pulling Fatty inwards. Fatty's legs were instantly stuck in the ice hole, causing him to let out a blood-curdling scream. I quickly hugged Fatty from behind and tried to pull him out, but the thing's strength was too great, and Fatty's legs had already been pulled in two-thirds of the way, with his thighs tightly wedged in the ice hole. Due to the force still pulling him inwards, Fatty was writhing in agony, when he suddenly said: "Tian Zhen, smash this hole, there's more space inside."

  I figured it must have been Fatso's legs that had reached something, and he couldn't care less about anything else, rushing into the equipment bag to rummage through things. Luckily, I managed to dig out an ice axe for myself. With the iron head facing downwards, I fiercely struck at the icy wall of the cave entrance. Unexpectedly, the ice wall wasn't that thick after all. After a few strikes, it started crumbling and falling apart, revealing more space behind it.

  The fat man was suddenly pulled in halfway again, but this time he was ready to charge forward. He raised the long tube in his hand and fired a shot. Immediately, I heard a strange and eerie cry in my ear, like someone with laryngitis crying, the sound was weird and piercing.

  At this time, Pàngzi's legs had already been released. He put on his equipment pack and held up his gun, saying: "Quickly, let's catch up."

  Fatso didn't say anything to me and just crawled into the hole, I only realized when I went in that this was a different kind of cave, the entire ice cave was wide and flat, square-shaped, with obvious signs of artificial excavation, my heart skipped a beat, could this be the outer path of the Heavenly Abyss Coffin? Where does it lead to?