We waited in silence for the intruder to move, but it didn’t stir. “Tianyi, we should get out of here,” Kai whispered.
“Not yet. Let’s see if it’s a human or a ghost.”
I couldn’t even tell if the face was male or female, old or young. Without a coffin, this couldn’t be a dumpling, so whatever it was must have crept out of the tunnel while we were in the other rooms. No regular person would dare dive into this tunnel, though—could we have met another gold hunter?
This made me remember the so-called merchant who’d built Fish Bone Temple. Could it be that he’d never died? Or never found his way out and gotten trapped here? Was this his vengeful spirit?
If this was just a ghost, it wouldn’t be a big deal. We had gold Buddhas and jade Goddesses of Mercy to keep us safe. And if this was a gold-hunter’s spirit, well, we were related, so maybe they’d even be able to point us toward the way out.
In any case, we had to break the stalemate. It wouldn’t do any good just staring at each other. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I called out, “Seeking baubles in the dark dragon turns, the hill shifts and the sky is seen. The stars move aside, and northern dippers cluster around the southern light.”
This was exceedingly polite, in the lingo of reverse dipping. It roughly meant that we didn’t mean to step on anyone’s toes and had come along this path just because it was there—we’d hoped to make a living for ourselves, that’s all.
Reverse dipping isn’t an accepted profession—we’re not builders or farmers, merchants or scholars—and it has rules all its own. For instance, a gold hunter can enter and leave a tomb only once—repeat trips are forbidden. After all, we’re talking about someone’s final resting place, and it would be disrespectful to have people traipsing in and out all the time.
Another rule is that within the profession, when two people choose the same target, they’re free to be there at the same time, but whoever enters first gets first pick of the treasure. Gold hunters have an ironclad rule that you can take only one or two items from each tomb—partly to avoid attracting unwanted attention, and partly because it would be unfair not to leave some things for the people who come after you. Given how much stuff tends to accumulate in ancient burial places, it’s not that difficult to share the spoils. This is where we differ from common grave robbers, who regularly get into fights over their loot because they don’t have the skills to find major tombs on a regular basis and don’t understand that grave goods come with negative energy, so helping yourself to too much leads to trouble.
There’s a particular set of values that makes up the order of gold hunters, and anyone with the right skills and vocabulary is considered to have joined the ranks. I learned some of this from my grandfather and heard the rest from Julie during our expedition into the desert.
So if this figure facing us was indeed a fellow gold hunter, then we’d surely be able to come to an agreement. That was presuming it was alive, of course, though we’d probably be able to work something out with a ghost too—they usually just want you to give their corpse a proper burial.
Having said my piece, I waited for a response. The language I’d used had been formal enough that a fellow gold hunter would definitely know we meant well. A long time went by, though, and the face remained impassive. Even as half the candle burned away, the figure stared at us, as if carved out of stone.
Not a gold hunter, then. I repeated my words in regular Chinese, but there was still no reaction.
We were getting uneasy now. The worst thing in these situations is silence, when you don’t know what the other party has up their sleeve. The exit was in the center of the room—but with that face staring at us, who knew what it had planned? Without knowing its intentions, we didn’t dare get any closer.
I had another thought: What if this was in fact the owner of the tomb? That would be awkward. “Honored individual, could we ask who you are?” I called out. “We were just passing through, and when we saw that tunnel, we wanted to see where it led. We mean no harm!”
Getting anxious, Kai chimed in. “We’re going back where we came from now,” he said loudly. “If you don’t say anything, we’ll assume you’re all right with that. Deal?”
Gold Tooth frowned. “Guys, are we sure this isn’t just a picture on the wall? The candlelight might be playing tricks on our eyes.”
Could he be right?
Somehow this whole place felt evil. First a giant stone appeared out of nowhere to block our way back; then this ghost, human, or demon materialized out of nowhere too. Or was Gold Tooth right, and were we just spooking ourselves?
The candle was almost out, and we didn’t dare linger anymore. I stealthily reached into my pocket and pulled out my trusty penknife, holding it in one hand and a gold Buddha charm in the other, then signaled to the other two that we should cross the room and confront this apparition head-on, whatever it might be. Kai nodded and picked up his shovel, handing the geese to Gold Tooth.
We moved in a triangle formation, Kai and me in front. With every step, my palm grew sweatier around the knife handle. I was frightened and tense. I even started hoping this was a dumpling, something I could get into a proper fight with. This spooky figure in the dark was more terrifying than any undead creature could ever be.
When we were almost there, the candle finally winked out with a final puff of smoke. And just like that, the face vanished too.
CHAPTER TEN
Instinct sent a shiver down my spine as we plunged into darkness. This is nothing to be scared of; it’s just physics, I told myself. If the candle kept burning forever, that would mean the place was haunted.
There was a crash behind us. Kai spun around in a fighting stance, but it was just Gold Tooth. He’d collapsed from shock. I helped him up and tried to soothe him.
“Are you all right? Don’t worry, you’re perfectly safe with Kai and me here.”
Gold Tooth let out a shaky breath. “Silly of me. I thought…”
I waved away his fears and quickly lit another candle. Once again, the person dipped into view, only it was clear that this was no human being, but just a face, and what was more, a face carved out of stone.
The stone face was atop a massive sarcophagus that I was absolutely certain had not been there when we’d first come in—there was no way we could have missed it. Baffled, we could only draw closer. It was three and a half meters long and about my height. It was made entirely of stone, gray and heavy, and there was a face carved into every surface. The ears were a little too large, and the eyes stared straight ahead expressionlessly, but they were unquestionably human—yet there was something stark and frightening about them.
“What is this?” Kai blurted out. “Did a ghost make it appear?”
I shushed him and turned my flashlight onto its base. “Gold Tooth, can you tell us anything about these carvings?”
“Probably from the Shang dynasty. Look, you can see the thundercloud markings from the Western Zhou period. I’d bet my life on it—these didn’t exist during the Tang dynasty.”
My experience with antiques was mostly with the more recent Ming and Qing dynasties. I’d never seen anything from as far back as the Shang. Gold Tooth’s words were even more confusing. What was a Shang coffin doing here? Everything about this place indicated it was from the Tang.
“Never mind which dynasty it’s from,” Kai yelped. “I’m getting freaked out just looking at it! Let’s just go. Whatever it is, it has nothing to do with us.”
“Not true,” I said. “It’s made of the same type of stone as the slab that blocked our path. If we want to find our way out, we’ll have to figure out what this is.”
“No,” said Gold Tooth. “I’d rather take my chances in the Dragon Ridge maze. We have a compass, so we won’t get too lost.”
I nodded. “All right. We have ropes to leave a trail behind us. But do you reall
y think we’re going to get out, when whatever’s keeping us here can make rocks appear out of nowhere?”
As I spoke, I had a sudden memory of the old guy in the village who’d said there weren’t any Tang tombs in these hills, only Western Zhou ones. And now here was this coffin—but then how to explain the unmistakably Tang wall paintings and design?
My head was spinning with confusion. Even the most experienced reverse dipper would have found this impossible to understand. And of course Gold Tooth had no interest in solving the mystery—his focus was on money; there was clearly no treasure to be had here.
“If we’re staying,” Kai said, “then let’s get on with it. No point in standing around. Come on, I’ll help you with the lid.”
I put a hand cautiously onto the stone surface. It felt solid enough that our chisels might not be able to pry it open. And if there was a dumpling inside, it wouldn’t turn out well for us. Something about those impassive stone faces told me to proceed carefully.
Turning to the other two, I said I’d changed my mind, and we should just go back the way we’d come. Perhaps the tunnel had changed again, and we’d find our way out this time. Gold Tooth didn’t need to be asked twice. He gathered the geese and was already halfway down the hole. I went last, taking one last look at the candle still burning in the southeast corner before jumping down after the other two.
Right away, we could tell something was wrong. We’d climbed up here along a forty-five-degree angle. So why were we on level ground now? Shining our flashlights around, we gasped—this was another burial chamber, and carvings of that strange face were all around us. Where had the tunnel gone? We stared at each other.
“What’s going on, Tianyi?” Kai growled.
“How do you expect me to know?” I answered. We went back down the same hole we entered from, and ended up somewhere completely different!
“It must be ghosts!” Gold Tooth exclaimed. “They’re trying to confuse us.”
I hushed him. There was no point getting all jumpy now. Maybe this was the real tomb, the Western Zhou one. Was that where the faces came from? They were exactly the same as the ones on the stone sarcophagus.
Once again, we kept only one flashlight on to save batteries, and I lit another candle as we studied our surroundings. This was a sort of burial passage, with paintings on either side of us, the bright red of blood. How had the color been preserved for thousands of years? Here and there, gray stone broke through the surface.
The corridor was several meters wide and perfectly straight. It disappeared in either direction, paved with rough-hewn stone. Everything about this felt crudely done and heavy, unlike the exquisite craftsmanship of Tang dynasty construction. We’d entered another era, a heavier one.
“Those faces,” Gold Tooth said with a shudder. “I’ll never forget them. So creepy, smiling but not smiling, absolutely cold-blooded.”
“I know what you mean,” I said thoughtfully. “The ones on the stone coffin were blank-faced, but these have different expressions.” I shined the torch around, and sure enough, they were displaying joy, sadness, anger, shock—but there was a coldness to all these emotions.
Kai held the candle up for a closer look. “They all seem…”
“Fake,” I said, pinpointing the word he seemed to be searching for. “They look like bad actors making faces, not people with real feelings.”
“That’s right!” said Kai. “That’s exactly what they look like.”
“You can see through them,” Gold Tooth added. “Look, there’s treachery in the happiness, mockery in the rage. At the market stall, I have to act sincere with the customers, but I’m sure I look fake to some of them. But this is another level. Something that’s not human, trying to look like us.”
A chill swept across my heart. “But what does this mean?”
Although I’d studied what I could of The Sixteen Mysteries of Yin-Yang Feng Shui, there were still many things I didn’t know, such as the finer points of history and culture. These faces now told me nothing at all. Gold Tooth might not be an expert, but his decades of experience were worth more than my knowledge at this point.
“We need to think up a strategy,” I said to the other two. “Barging around with no plan is obviously not working.”
“I’m scared,” Kai said softly. “Just tell me what’s going on, Tianyi.”
Kai was usually fearless, so I had to admit that things looked bad. “We’ve been ambushed by whatever’s happening,” I said. “We need to figure it out.”
“Next time I’m bringing dynamite,” Kai said. “Then we’ll just blast our way out.”
“Let’s get aboveground first, before we start talking about next time.” I turned to Gold Tooth. “Can you tell us anything about these faces? Anything at all?”
Gold Tooth shook his head. “All I know is that a Western Zhou artifact like this is worth a fortune—though you might struggle to find a buyer. I’ve seen enough to be dead certain that the coffin is from the Western Zhou. And the fashion for decorating burial goods with human faces is from the Shang period.”
“Hang on, wasn’t the Shang before the Western Zhou?”
“Yes, but the trend continued all the way to the time of the Three Kingdoms. So that’s consistent with this being a Western Zhou artifact. There is one detail that isn’t quite right, though. Did you notice what it was?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“You’re the expert,” I said impatiently. “Just tell us!”
“Sorry, occupational hazard. In the market, I’m so used to spouting enigmatic questions and intoxicating customers with my air of mystery. It’s hard to be straightforward.”
“This isn’t the time,” Kai snapped. “We’re in a tight spot here. Just come out with it.”
Gold Tooth nodded. “I’m no archaeologist, and I wouldn’t dare be this certain with most things, but I distinctly remember seeing a coffin just like that one in Luoyang Museum. Western Zhou faces are very distinctive. It left quite an impression on me. That’s why I’m so sure.”
It’s true that Western Zhou artifacts have certain distinctive characteristics: fluid lines, genderless and ageless figures with large earlobes. Besides, it was the only dynasty that featured lightning patterns, so the lightning design surrounding the base of the coffin seemed conclusive.
Human figures before and after the Western Zhou were more individualized, and it was only during that one period that they became generic, with no markers of age or sex. I asked Gold Tooth why that might be. He said only an expert would know—he was able to recognize these features on the coffin but could not explain their origin.
“And what’s with the multiple faces?”
“There’s a legend of the Western Zhou king having four faces, one facing each direction, so he could always see what was going on. In some versions, he has four ministers who do the looking for him.”
“I see. But that doesn’t have anything to do with the coffin, does it? There are five faces, including the one on the lid. Do you think this face has anything to do with its occupant?”
I knew even as I asked the question that it was pointless. We were all lost in the fog here, and Gold Tooth’s guess was as good as mine.
None of this talk was helping us find a way out, and we were still confronted with two directions to choose from, as well as a hole above us leading to the coffin of many faces.
“We have no idea where we are,” I said. “But if Gold Tooth is right and this passageway was built during the Western Zhou period, then I think I can make an educated guess. Shang tombs weren’t as luxurious as Tang ones, but they were a whole lot bigger, built by creating giant stone halls, and often spanning many stories, rather than being all on one level. The tunnel we entered by got blocked by a stone slab, which might well be the outer perimeter wall of the Western Zhou tomb, some distance from the grave itself. Though I
still don’t understand how it suddenly popped out of nowhere. That’s the bit that baffles me.”
“Stop thinking about it,” urged Kai. “You’re not going to figure it out. Let’s just work on getting out of here. No ancient tomb can defeat the three of us. You’ve got your feng shui skills, Gold Tooth has heaps of experience, and I’ve got strength—or I’m stronger than the two of you, at least.”
“Feng shui, experience, and strength are all very well,” Gold Tooth grumbled, “but what we need now are new brains.”
Kai sighed. “Don’t you know the saying ‘Better three fools than one wise man’? Don’t you think we’re foolish enough?”
“Never mind all that,” I said. “What we really need is luck. We’ve been really unlucky so far, and every step seems to get us into more trouble. If this place follows the structure of Western Zhou tombs, the level below us ought to be the burial pit, and there’s no exiting from that. I say we go back up to the main chamber and try to find the tunnel out.”
“Hang on,” said Kai. “Isn’t the burial pit where all the treasure would be? Why don’t we see if we can grab a thing or two before looking for the way out? I’d rather not go home empty-handed. Why’d we go to all this trouble, otherwise?”
“Forget it,” said Gold Tooth. “You might be young enough to keep going, but my old legs feel like lead. Let’s not look for more trouble. We’ll do as Tianyi says and find the way out. This place is weird, and who knows what other traps lie ahead.”
Seeing that we were both set on going back up, Kai reluctantly picked up the geese and started to follow us, then suddenly halted. “Wait, wait, shouldn’t we open that stone coffin and look at the dead guy’s face, to see if it’s as strange as the carvings? He might have a mask on, maybe even a gold one. That’d be worth something.”
Gold Tooth and I ignored him—this was no time to get distracted. I gave Gold Tooth a leg up into the hole. Then we followed him back up into the chamber.
The Dragon Ridge Tombs Page 7