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墨書 Inktalez
As the Bronze Coffin landed, it kicked up a cloud of dust, stirring a great commotion.
Once everything settled, Fat Ma, with his round eyes wide open, kept sizing up the Bronze Coffin but dared not touch it.
This Bronze Coffin exuded an undeniable air of authority, suspended in the center of the main burial chamber.
"Isn't burying someone supposed to be for their peace? Why is this coffin hanging so high?" I voiced my confusion.
However, neither of them could provide me with an answer.
The Bronze Coffin was at least twice the size of an ordinary coffin. Normally, a person's body shrinks as they age. If that were the case, what exactly was buried inside this coffin? A person? Could there really be someone so large? These questions remained unanswered. If we wanted to know, we would have to open the Bronze Coffin.
Fat Ma continued to observe the Bronze Coffin with his flashlight, mumbling, "Old Sun, why are there so many strange patterns on the coffin?"
His words interrupted my train of thought. I turned my attention to the patterns and immediately felt captivated by them, as if they possessed some kind of magic.
After a while, I blurted out, "I feel like I've seen these patterns somewhere before." Fat Ma looked at me in surprise, and even the clay figure seemed drawn in by my words, its eyes shining brightly.
I knew they were waiting for me to elaborate, but I couldn't find the words. It felt familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time.
Fat Ma grew impatient and urged me, "Old Sun, stop keeping us in suspense. Just tell us!"
After a moment of despair, I replied, "I can't explain it."
Fat Ma and the clay figure's expressions immediately drooped. Fat Ma said, "Old Sun, it's okay. The organization trusts you."
I shook my head; I truly couldn't articulate it.
The Mud Man spoke, "I believe you."
Hearing their words brought me a sense of satisfaction. I continued to gaze at the strange patterns on the Bronze Coffin, which seemed entirely unrelated to the murals I had seen in the outer chamber.
But where had I seen these patterns before? They didn't resemble humans or any kind of beast; they were quite abstract.
I had no clues, yet some feeling told me that I had encountered these designs before.
Instinctively, I reached out to touch the Bronze Coffin. As my fingers made contact, it felt as if it was pulsating. I quickly withdrew my hand, a cold sweat breaking out all over me.
I didn't speak immediately; I feared it was just my illusion. Carefully, I scrutinized the Bronze Coffin and cautiously tried to touch it again. The pulsation had vanished; it seemed that my earlier sensation was indeed just a figment of my imagination. I glanced at the Mud Man and Fat Ma; their expressions were serious but still within normal bounds, which eased my mind.
These patterns were abstract and eerie, completely elusive, like they had no beginning or end.
After a moment, the Mud Man exclaimed, "What do you think this is?" Fat Ma and I quickly leaned in as he pointed at a series of strange runes on the Bronze Coffin.
Fat Ma looked confused and turned to me, asking, "Old Sun, do you know what it means?"
I squatted down and directed my flashlight to its maximum brightness, examining each word carefully. After reading it, my face turned pale, and my breathing became heavy.
Noticing my change in demeanor, Fat Ma anxiously asked, "What does it say?"
The Mud Man's complexion also turned ashen, as if he were sweating but remained silent.
After a brief silence, I slowly uttered each word: "Three People at a Funeral." Upon finishing, my face was ashen. Three People at a Funeral—wasn't that just the three of us: Fat Ma, the Mud Man, and me?
Fat Ma cursed loudly, "Bullshit! If he wants me to give him a funeral, then he must be tired of lying in there and wants to get out for some fresh air." Though he spoke with conviction, I could sense a hint of chaos in his words.
The Mud Man's face froze. After a moment, he stammered out, "Are there any other hints?" His voice trembled slightly.
I shook my head; it was Three People at a Funeral.
The Clay Man spat out the blood he had been holding in his mouth, and he seemed to sway slightly. Fat Ma quickly supported him, asking with concern, "Are you okay? Why did you suddenly spit blood?"
The Clay Man wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, shook his head, and broke free from Fat Ma's grip. With a hint of reluctance, he continued to ask me, "Really, there are no other hints?"
I shook my head again and asked him, "What's wrong?"
The Clay Man chuckled a few times, his voice somewhat mournful as he said, "I'm afraid we've encountered the Ghost Coffin."
As soon as the words Ghost Coffin fell, they weighed heavily upon us, silencing the space instantly.
The Clay Man went on, "My master once warned me that encountering such a coffin could signify the end of your tomb-raiding career—certain death," he sighed deeply as he spoke.
I was momentarily at a loss for words.
Fat Ma, however, seemed more relaxed. "Even if we have to die, we should at least pry open its coffin before we go," he said. After uttering this, it felt like a chill swept over us.
"Whatever," I said as I decided to check if there were any other treasures in this tomb. With that remark, Fat Ma walked away.
I didn’t pay much attention; the Clay Man stood frozen in place. I said to him, "Clay Man, don’t be discouraged. Maybe it’s just trying to scare us," imitating Fat Ma's tone, I added, "We’ve been taught to dispel all superstitions."
The Clay Man seemed indifferent to my words. After a few more attempts at conversation, I fell silent. Truthfully, I had no confidence either; the idea that a coffin from thousands of years ago could predict that three people would enter this Tomb was both unbelievable and frightening.
I steadied my nerves and continued to examine the coffin closely.
Suddenly, the Clay Man said, "Let’s leave here first." As soon as he finished speaking, he took off running. Sensing something was wrong, I hurried after him.
But just as the Clay Man was about to enter the Passageway, a stone door suddenly slammed shut, sealing off the Passageway. The Clay Man was left facing a closed door, his expression as grim as if he had just seen a ghost.
I also stopped in my tracks, seeing that the way back was blocked. I felt a sudden loss of hope, but I couldn't panic now; as long as we were alive, there was still a chance to escape.
Fat Ma glanced back at this place and hurried over to me, asking what was wrong. I pointed at the sealed stone door. Fat Ma immediately understood.
He cursed angrily, "Damn it," and turned back to search for treasures.
I patted the Mud Man's shoulder and said, "Don't rush; there must be a way."
His master had a significant influence on him, and he was too convinced that his master's words were correct. I couldn't comfort him at that moment. Of course, I didn't dare to oppose what his master said outright, but as long as we were still alive, there was hope.
Suddenly, Fat Ma shouted, "Mud Man, can you show some ambition? Come over here and help me look for treasures."
Upon hearing this, the Mud Man seemed to be stimulated and retorted angrily at Fat Ma, "I started learning from my master when I was five! I’ve been working in the field since then! Damn it, calling me unambitious!" With that, he ran over to Fat Ma.
I followed them without knowing where Fat Ma had dug up those strange items again. Honestly, I had to admire Fat Ma's relentless spirit when it came to treasure hunting.
The two of them huddled together, exchanged a few words of argument, and then fell silent.
I continued toward the Bronze Coffin, standing in front of it in a daze. I placed my hand on the Bronze Coffin again. Suddenly, that pulsating sensation returned. Startled, I quickly withdrew my hand and stared blankly at the Bronze Coffin.
Was this another illusion?
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