Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
However, the events of that night in the tomb kept replaying in his mind, leaving him feeling uneasy and almost regretting his decision. Yet, it was too late; even if he wanted to backtrack now, there was no opportunity to do so.
Three days passed...
Many people arrived at his place as if summoned, and Chen Yutou had regained some of his spirit during these days. He kept his promise and agreed to share the events that took place in the tomb with everyone.
"Listen carefully! Just as we were immersing ourselves in this story, my grandfather said something that jolted us awake, making us realize what was happening.
Next, I will recount Chen Yutou's special skill, Disturbing the Plates. To truly appreciate this story, we must incorporate Disturbing the Plates; otherwise, it would be rather dull.
"Come on, old man, tell us!" Fat Ma urged impatiently.
Grandfather chuckled and gathered his thoughts to continue:
"I've already explained the meaning of Disturbing the Plates to you all before, so I won't repeat myself. Now, let me tell you about what happened that night when everyone had gathered."
That night, Chen Yutou descended into the tomb alone with a box in hand, under the astonished gazes of the crowd. That was when his nightmare began. The more skilled one was at digging a Burrow, the closer they could get to the Tomb. The truly exceptional ones could strike right at the heart of it; with just one Shovel, they could break through the Burrow and enter the Tomb. However, such individuals were few and far between. The first person to discover this tomb was no ordinary character; their Burrow was already quite close to the Tomb's location. However, there was still some distance left to cover. Later arrivals opted for convenience and did not dig their own Burrows; after all, it wasn't worth the extra steps, and digging too much could introduce uncertainties like potential collapses.
Thus, before Chen Yutou descended, dozens of people had already perished in this tomb—a truly terrifying number.
Like those before him, Chen Yutou entered through an existing tunnel into the tomb. However, as soon as he landed on solid ground, his face turned pale as he couldn't help but swallow hard.
Yet Chen Yutou's judgment was sound because once he descended and turned on his flashlight, he could see a rough outline of the Tomb's interior. Although it was close by, he dared not take a single step forward.
He looked up at the moon far away in the sky. It could be said that Chen Yutou had some skills; although he couldn't claim to be as capable as the Yin Yang Master outside of Burrow, his abilities were not to be underestimated. After descending into the graveyard, he calculated for a moment. About a minute later, he took a deep breath, realizing that this journey might not go smoothly. He gazed into the distance, where corpses were scattered around, seemingly with one person dying for every step taken. The furthest body was close to the Tomb.
Chen Yutou directed the beam of his flashlight to the nearest corpse. The body lay on its back, appearing extremely stiff, and its face had turned a dark shade of blue, indicating it had been dead for some time. What was even more unsettling was the expression frozen on the corpse's face—an expression of sheer terror, as if it had died from fright. This thought made Chen Yutou break out in a cold sweat. The people who came down here were not without skills; some could traverse mountains and valleys without blinking an eye, while others had personally dealt with Zongzi. Yet, they had died from fear—this was something Chen Yutou couldn't comprehend no matter how hard he tried.
However, since Chen Yutou dared to come down alone, he must possess extraordinary abilities. This brings us to Disturbing the Plates. The premise of Disturbing the Plates is to first stabilize one's nature; if one loses control, then this little trick won't work.
So despite feeling some fear, Chen Yutou did his best to calm himself down. He knew that if he lost his composure, his fate could end up like that of the corpse before him—death.
Next, regarding Disturbing the Plates: this unique skill can handle both good and bad situations. Here, good and bad do not merely refer to being able to see things clearly; after all, a Tomb is meant for burying the dead. These grand mausoleums have accumulated Killing Intent over many years that ordinary people cannot measure. Moreover, what is sealed within the Tomb is far beyond what we can comprehend with conventional thinking.
My grandfather spoke about this point, and I wholeheartedly agreed because once you enter a Tomb, the situation can change drastically. To put it bluntly, once you go down there, your life hangs in the balance—your fate depends on both your own skills and luck.
Just as my grandfather was about to continue speaking, an oblivious worker from the shop approached and said, "Gentlemen, we are closing soon."
Upon hearing this, Fat Ma's face fell; he almost exclaimed that he had reserved the place for the night but ultimately held back.
My grandfather set down his chopsticks and slowly stood up. Fat Ma was quick to rush over and support him while I followed the worker to settle the bill.
My grandfather was elderly and had consumed some alcohol; he nearly stumbled but was smiling happily at that moment. Since the restaurant wasn't far from home, we planned to walk back.
After taking a few steps, my grandfather pushed Fat Ma aside and said, "I'm not that old yet."
Fat Ma quickly replied, "Of course not! The old man is in great health!"
The Fat Ma had become increasingly adept at flattering others, his skills growing sharper by the day. I watched from the sidelines, almost feeling a surge of admiration, but then I scoffed inwardly, and suddenly my mind cleared, everything fading away.
"Now, let's continue," my grandfather said, adjusting his expression.
At that moment, a bright moon hung in the sky. Since it was getting late, the streets were becoming sparse with pedestrians and vehicles. The dim streetlights cast a warm white glow, creating shadows that split into two.
Looking at the corpses scattered around us, even Chen Yutou, no matter how skilled he was, dared not wade into this murky water. Of course, he could choose to withdraw now, but he wouldn’t do that; it would only make him the laughingstock.
Moreover, he had gained some confidence by this point. Before coming down, he had swallowed Black Mud. This Black Mud was not just ordinary dirt; it was taken from places heavy with yin energy—like mud extracted from beneath ancient coffins or from mass graves. The former was more common, but very few knew of this method. At that time, aside from Chen Yutou, there were hardly any who were aware of it.
Chen Yutou was not only bold but also meticulous. A quick glance gave him a rough understanding of the tomb before him. While he couldn't accurately determine its age, he could tell that this Tomb was not for an ordinary person. Here, "ordinary" did not refer to commoners or distinctions between the rich and poor but rather to someone who might have had knowledge of layout and design—those known in ancient times as sorcerers. Sorcerers sought immortality and elixirs, divined fortunes and misfortunes, and observed heavenly mandates... Among them were also those who utilized such arts for imperial tombs.
However, the perceptive Chen Yutou quickly concluded that this was not an emperor's tomb because there was no trace of spiritual energy lingering inside. Realizing this made him double his caution.
If this place was filled with malevolent energy, it would be troublesome. With that thought, Chen Yutou couldn't help but feel a chill run through him. He forced himself to calm down and steadied his breath; the Black Mud in his stomach could save his life but would also put a strain on his bodily functions.
As the story reached this point, the three of us had already walked home. Although I wanted to hear the rest of the tale, it was getting late, and I worried about my grandfather's health, so I suggested he rest early.
The Fat Ma did not press my grandfather on this matter.
Before going to bed, the Fat Ma asked, "Old Sun, what if I learned Disturbing the Plates? Wouldn't I walk sideways in the underworld?"
"Don't think nonsense; that's all fake." With that, I closed the door and stepped outside.
Due to the arrival of Fat Ma, I vacated my sleeping room for him. I ended up sleeping in my father's room, though I couldn't recall when he had left home; at that time, I wasn't sure if I had even been aware of it.
Suddenly, I remembered the newspaper I had seen last time in Dujiangyan, which featured a photo of my father. The headline was something about the hardworking people of Li Family Village becoming prosperous. I couldn't recall the exact wording, but the event remained vivid in my memory. The legend of prosperity in Li Family Village now felt eerily strange to me. Looking back at that photo, my father appeared quite young; so much time had passed since then.
I lay down on the bed without turning off the light, staring wide-eyed at the speckled ceiling. My mind was blank, and Chen Yutou had completely slipped from my thoughts.
Suddenly, some dust fell from the ceiling and blurred my vision. Rubbing my eyes vigorously, once my sight cleared, I turned onto my side and began to examine the arrangement of the room, even though I had seen it more than once or twice.
My father's study and bedroom were combined into one spacious area. Although he had many books stored away, I had never developed a habit of reading since childhood, so I had never bothered to explore those bookshelves.
In the center, surrounded by bookshelves, stood an antique writing desk with a matching chair, both neglected and untouched.
My grandfather rarely entered this room; he believed that out of sight meant out of mind. Thus, my father's bedroom had unintentionally become a wasteland within the house.
After lying in bed for a long time without falling asleep, I found myself staring blankly at the bookshelves and that desk.
Suddenly, some unseen force compelled me to get up and walk toward the study.
My father’s collection of books was quite extensive, filling several large shelves—possibly numbering in the thousands. From a distance, it looked like a treasure trove. I randomly pulled out a few books and flipped through them before putting them back; I simply couldn't muster any interest in them.
I sat down in the chair at the desk. In front of me were three drawers; I casually opened one and found it neatly filled with draft paper covered in dense handwriting with signs of corrections throughout. It looked very much like a manuscript. Driven by curiosity, I took out the manuscript and skimmed through it, discovering it was an essay written by my father about a landscape. For a moment, I was speechless but continued to read carefully because, in some way, I still wanted to gather any information about my father—whether from the past or present.
Comment 0 Comment Count