Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
We stood uncertainly, illuminated by the glow of the Gongye Zhuguang. In the depths of the tomb, a grayish mass of sand-like substance suddenly surged forth, rushing towards us from above... A loud buzzing filled the air, and my ears rang. Zhengyang remained calm, removing his Daoist Robe and sweeping it through the air, knocking down a swarm of dark creatures. "Oh no, it's a Wasp!" One of the Wasps darted towards me unexpectedly, stinging my arm and causing it to swell painfully, tears streaming down my face. I curled up on the ground, wrapping myself in my outer garment.
Zhengyang threw off his robe and grabbed my arm, inadvertently squeezing the stinger area. The sharp pain made me cry out. He wasted no time, picking up a piece of wood and quickly ducking into a nearby cave, using the wood to shield us. All we could hear were loud thuds as the swarm crashed against our makeshift barrier.
A few Wasps that had accidentally entered were swiftly dispatched by Zhengyang's fingers, dropping dead at my feet. I picked one up for a closer look: it was five centimeters long, its body shimmering like sapphire, with orange-red wings that glowed faintly in the light. This was clearly a Desert Spider Wasp, the only species known to prey on tarantulas.
The Desert Spider Wasp is highly venomous; it incapacitates tarantulas with its sting and lays its eggs inside them, allowing its larvae to grow while consuming the live spider. The ancient saying about "the offspring of the Desert Spider Wasp" stems from a belief among our ancestors that these wasps were male-only and could not reproduce. Thus, they captured Desert Spider Wasps to raise as adopted sons. In truth, they were raising them to feed their young. I can imagine that our ancestors living in the desert might have coined phrases like "the spider wasp has no offspring, only tarantulas."
I was in agony; cold sweat dripped from my forehead as my arm swelled and turned purple. I gritted my teeth as pain coursed through me. Zhengyang took off his inner garment to plug the gap in our shelter before turning to me with a pale face. It seemed he had made a significant decision: "Can you endure this?" I felt like I might faint from the pain. "I can't hold on much longer!"
"If we don't do something soon, you'll die! You're someone I respect!"
Indeed, I thought Zhengyang was proud and aloof; for him to say such a thing meant he was likely sincere. I asked him, "Do you have a plan?"
"Bone scraping therapy!"
Upon hearing this, I nearly fainted from fear; my scalp tightened as I thought, "I probably won't survive long enough for this treatment!" But seeing Zhengyang's serious expression made me grit my teeth and nod.
The "Smith Pain Index" is a measure created by an American named Justin Schmidt who personally endured stings from 150 different insects. He categorized insect pain into four levels: fire ants are level one, hornets are level two, while Wasps reach level four. Smith described it as not just painful but agonizing—like pouring hydrochloric acid onto an open wound.
In terms of pain levels, this corresponds to levels ten to eleven—akin to having a finger severed! At this thought, I felt somewhat relieved. Bone scraping therapy would equate to level nine agony; at worst, it would feel like a mere level one mosquito bite. This trade-off seemed worth it. Zhengyang glanced at me in surprise; later I realized he thought I was hallucinating from the pain.
Zhengyang pulled out a talisman from my bag and performed a hand gesture; the talisman ignited with a puff. He then took out his black iron dagger and heated it over the flame before tearing off half of my sleeve. He handed me a rag: "Bite down!" I refused and pulled out Mausoleum Secrets to read carefully instead. Zhengyang nodded approvingly; honestly, I was just pretending to be composed.
"I'll count to three before making the cut!"
When I heard this, all my nerves focused on that number three. Zhengyang began counting: "One... two..." Before he finished saying "two," an initial sensation akin to being bitten by a mosquito struck me; then came an intense pain that nearly caused me to lose consciousness. I heard a grinding sound near my ear—it was the dagger scraping against bone. Warm blood trickled down my arm and dripped onto the ground.
I clenched my teeth so hard they creaked in admiration for Guan Yu-like figures who could endure such pain. My mind went blank from agony as I fixated on Mausoleum Secrets; one sentence morphed into seven or eight in my dazed state while my other hand clawed at the ground, digging out a large hole. My entire body was drenched in sweat as if I'd just emerged from water.
"All done! Not bad!"
Zhengyang rarely praised anyone openly; receiving his commendation was something to be proud of. After hearing those words, darkness enveloped me as I fainted again. When I regained consciousness after an unknown period, I could feel that my wound had healed and was wrapped in gauze that felt slightly cool against my skin. After about an hour, I found that I could move my arm freely again.
"You know the habits of the Desert Spider Wasp. Don't you find anything unusual?"
"This type of wasp rarely attacks humans unless provoked or if their nest is threatened!"
"You've only grasped a bit; think more carefully!"
I replayed the conversation in my mind countless times and shook my head. "I don't know!"
"Sigh! You are the last descendant of the Xia Family. How can you not be more attentive? This is merely a trial. In the future, when faced with greater challenges, how will you handle them alone? Do you realize the heavy burden you carry? You must work a hundred times harder than others... Do you know what bees use to sense direction?"
I was puzzled by Zhengyang's sudden lecturing tone, filled with concern. After his prompt, I seemed to sense something was off...
In Cosmic Space, there exist magnetic fields of varying strengths everywhere—from atoms and atomic nuclei to larger bodies like Earth and the Sun. Life on Earth relies on and must adapt to its magnetic field, just as humans adapt to light, temperature, and atmospheric pressure. The Earth's magnetic field directly influences bees' orientation; they can detect minute fluctuations in the magnetic field that only sensitive magnetometers can discern.
Could it mean that the magnetic field here has changed, causing the wasps to go berserk and attack other animals and humans? Could it also imply that by opening the Cursed Tomb, we disrupted the harmony of yin and yang, preventing the wasps from sensing the normal magnetic field, leading them to go wild? I began to understand Zhengyang better, and he nodded in satisfaction.
"The wasps are gone!"
I was stunned; those terrifying creatures had simply vanished. How did Zhengyang manage that? Just as I was about to ask, he shook his head, kicked aside a wooden plank, and walked into the tomb chamber.
The head of Listening to the Truth had fallen here, creating a large pit in the wasp nest. The nest was about the size of a round table for ten people, as hard as compacted earth. In the hole created by the impact, several wasps were scurrying around like ants on a hot pan, utterly disoriented. The ground was littered with Sand Lizard and mouse corpses.
"Be careful! Look at the ground..."
I looked closely at the ground and saw a mass of blackened wasp corpses scattered everywhere, sending chills down my spine. I hesitated to step forward while Zhengyang seemed unfazed, stepping over the wasps and leaving footprints behind. I followed his lead cautiously.
Ahead, an arching passageway made of bluestone showed signs of bullet impacts. The Vajra Gate had been blasted open with a large hole; from the damage, it was evident that someone had entered not long ago.
We walked through the passageway and descended a densely packed path for about three or four minutes until we emerged into a spacious area where a classical palace-like structure appeared before us.
The Hall of Offerings constituted the main part of the entire tomb complex, being the largest section. Upon entering, what caught my eye first were the massive stone pillars supporting the earthen mound—about five meters tall each—with six on either side. The number of these pillars held significance: eight for kings, six for ministers, while wealthy individuals could only rest their structures directly against the tomb walls. Such large stone pillars must have been transported from dozens of miles away; how could this have been accomplished with ancient productivity?
Perhaps it was the very thing we thought impossible, to transport goods from their origin bit by bit using camels and other draft animals.
In the darkness at the center of the pillar, several bronze figures resembling lamps from the Jiangxin Palace were set up. The flames had long since extinguished, and the water stored inside had evaporated. I took out my lighter, preparing to ignite one of the lamp servants for a test, but Zhengyang stopped me just in time. He believed that lighting it would alter the flow of energy and disturb the balance of the tomb, causing unnecessary trouble.
The silence here was unnerving; occasionally, I could hear faint sounds of wasps flapping their wings, which only heightened my fear. The more I feared, the chillier I felt behind me. Could it be a ghost? A shiver ran down my spine. Yet, I dared not turn around. I scanned the surroundings of the Hall of Offerings; six beams and six pillars supported the ceiling made of blue stone, and there wasn't a single crack to be seen.
Suddenly, Zhengyang leaped up and pushed me aside. I heard a whoosh as a dark shadow crashed to the ground. "Damn it, a crossbow at this time..." I hadn’t expected that mechanisms had also been adopted in this western region!
"This isn't a mechanism; take a closer look!" Hearing Zhengyang say this, I hurried over to examine it. It turned out to be a false alarm; it was merely a mountaineering stick. How unbelievable! I had almost been impaled by a hiking pole. In an instant, my eyes widened as I took a closer look at that stick—wasn't this something belonging to Dong Tong?
Knowing it was Dong Tong's item brought us some comfort; at least they had entered the tomb without being attacked, confirming that our general direction was correct.
In the center of the Hall of Offerings stood a jade pagoda, typical of Buddhist style. The pagoda wasn't particularly tall, about seven tiers high. According to the Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva's Fundamental Vows, Buddhists believe that a seven-tiered pagoda is built to enshrine a statue of Buddha that stands about one hundred meters tall; constructing such a large Buddha brings immense merit. The saying "Saving a life is better than building a seven-tiered pagoda" conveys this same principle.
The pagoda was placed on a lotus pedestal, with scenes depicting Buddha and his Parinirvana carved at its base. Three thousand disciples bowed around Buddha, who had his eyes slightly closed and his arms resting on his head, facing westward. This was undoubtedly a Buddha True Body Relic Tower. In ancient times, Ashoka established eighty-four thousand stupas, eight of which were located in this western region. This must be one of those Buddha True Body Relic Towers.
As I pondered these thoughts, Zhengyang called out to me: "Look over here quickly."
We turned our heads and found that Zhengyang had climbed up from behind the Hall of Offerings and carefully pulled out something from a bag he had brought with him.
Comment 0 Comment Count