I had no time for fear, quickly turning the utility light and shining it near me. Ding Sitian was indeed lying properly on the ground, but none of us had noticed before that beside her face, against the wall, was placed a small bronze casket. The lid of the casket was cast with the head of a weasel, and the rusty bronze box was quite short, the lid roughly level with Ding Sitian’s head. When I touched it casually just now, I actually felt the weasel head on the lid. Its shaping was bizarre; although it was clearly a weasel, it was highly anthropomorphized, with contours so pronounced they strongly resembled a human face, causing me to mistake it for the mask of that great Xianbei female corpse.

Fatty heard the noise and struggled up to look too. At that time, the abundance of our energy and physical stamina was almost unimaginable. After several brushes with death, carrying injuries, and with nothing in our stomachs, a brief rest after fierce fighting was enough to make us lively again. Looking back later, I found it strange—why hadn’t we collapsed yet? Besides youthful high spirits, there was a primary reason. In fact, this reason was particularly simple and pure: back then, we genuinely believed that what we were doing was contributing our youth to helping all humankind escape the fiery pit. We didn't doubt this at all. The power of faith is boundless; those who have never truly believed in a certain power to their very bones cannot possibly understand.

Fatty and I moved Ding Sitian aside and leaned in to examine the bronze casket closely. This mysterious casket was covered in ancient, mottled bronze patina, and the surroundings were filled with shamanic patterns and talismans that I couldn't decipher at all. However, the body of the box featured conspicuous inlays of turquoise and gold thread, making it look incredibly luxurious. It was clearly not an ordinary antique. This bronze box wasn't like the boxes we usually see; the lid wasn't connected by hinges, but rather, like a coffin, the entire lid had to be lifted off to open it and see what was inside.

In reality, this bronze casket did indeed resemble a small, exquisite ancient bronze coffin. Now the situation was clear: it had been excavated by the Ni’er Hui bandits from the great Xing'an Range Yellow Immortal Temple. Nine times out of ten, this coffin-like ancient bronze box was the object in question. Looking closer at the lid, there was the hateful face of a weasel, its head and face almost the size of a person's. Where the lid met the body, traces of sealing wax remained, suggesting it had been opened before.

Fatty, consumed by curiosity, muttered, "This casket is much smaller than we first imagined. What kind of miscellaneous junk, like cats and dogs, is packed inside this 'Four Olds' item?" As he spoke, he reached out, intending to lift the lid and see for himself. He’d smashed so much during the earlier campaign against the Four Olds that he barely gave this object a second thought.

I quickly stopped him, "Don't touch it. Although the box is small, I see it as: 'A small temple breeds a great evil wind, a shallow pool harbors many kings.' The Japanese devils who died here in the secret passage wanted to escape through this. Why did they want to escape? We can use reverse reasoning to reach a conclusion: the sheer number of inexplicable deaths in this research institute must be related to this bronze box and that female corpse. The only reason we’re alive now is that there’s one thing we haven't done: opening this bronze casket. Once the lid is opened again, I fear we won't leave here alive. The prerequisite for defeating the enemy is first preserving our own strength. We can’t make any more pointless sacrifices."

Fatty nodded in agreement, finding an excuse that suited him: "To prevent the class enemy from making a final, desperate lunge before their demise, let's not touch this box. I suddenly feel a bit of strength returning now. Let's hurry up and figure out how to save Sitian, Old Hu... tell me... is there any hope for her?" Fatty’s voice became muffled toward the end, as he was truly worried sick about Ding Sitian, a sliver of doubt creeping into his mind. Such anxiety was rare for him.

I told Fatty, "As long as we are united, as long as we have courage, as long as we dare to fight, not fear difficulties, and persevere in our struggle, then the whole world will surely belong to the people, and all demons and monsters will eventually be eliminated. The dawn of victory will soon illuminate the entire earth. There are many things in this underground secret chamber; let’s search around first..."

As I spoke, I checked Ding Sitian's current condition again. Ever since she showed signs of Ruan poisoning, based on previous legends about the toxicity of the Scaled Ruan, we estimated she had at most twenty-four hours left. Although less than half a day had passed, the repeated frights and external injuries meant the poison had entered her bones. It seemed she wouldn't last a full day and night under any circumstances. At most, another two hours, and once the poison reached her heart, her face turning from green to black, even an antidote wouldn't save her.

I knew there was no time to lose and had to embrace the spirit of continuous combat. I quickly asked Fatty to help me stand up. Old Sheepskin was completely spent; his body felt like it had fallen apart, and he couldn't even stand. He had to stay put and guard Ding Sitian. Our engineering flashlight had been on for a long time, and the spare batteries were left at the brick kiln entrance. We didn't know how long the remaining charge would last. In this pitch-black secret chamber, all movement relied on light. I was reluctant to use it carelessly until absolutely necessary. So, I dug out two stubs of half-burnt candles from my pocket and lit them for light.

Currently, the entrance to the chamber was blocked by the corpse of that dead Demon Ginseng. The rotten human remains clinging to its roots were scattered all over the floor, along with various biological organs near the entrance, and the smell of preservative fluid that had almost turned into a river. The conditions in the secret chamber were predictably terrible. Only in the corner where we were situated was the air circulating enough to breathe without difficulty. Stepping further into the room made the eyes sting and water, and every breath taken through the nose felt like being choked by lime dust.

Fatty and I wrapped our blood-stained, dirty collars around our mouths and noses, ready to begin searching, when Old Sheepskin, who was watching Ding Sitian in the corner, suddenly tugged at my clothes. He hadn't caught his breath yet and couldn't speak, so he strained to point at the great Xianbei sorceress corpse lying on the stone platform. His expression was a mixture of deep fear and a warning for us to be extremely cautious of the corpse suddenly pouncing on someone.

I nodded to Old Sheepskin, thinking that saving her was the priority now. Since the corpse hadn't moved at all, it was best not to provoke it for the moment. I nudged the bronze casket lightly away with my foot, then said to Old Sheepskin and Fatty, "We don't fully understand what's going on with the Great Xianbei Sorceress, but since Chairman taught us to unite all forces that can be united—and I apply this learning immediately as needed—I’ve been thinking we could also unite with that female corpse. A figure like a sorceress is probably similar to a nun in a temple. Although her role falls under the category of feudal superstition, she didn't own any property herself. Like the nuns in a convent, the temple belongs to the state, not to them personally. Analyzing it this way, we can determine her class status. The Great Xianbei Sorceress's class status is very likely to be in the proletarian camp. Well... if... of course, if she volunteered to be a sorceress, at most she was a freelancer—petty bourgeois. That’s an internal contradiction among the people, like us proletarians. If they don't attack us, we won't attack them. Moreover, this corpse might be connected to the annihilation that occurred in this institute, perhaps having contributed to resisting the Japanese invaders. Even if we don't see eye-to-eye, we should stick to our own business, right? What do you think?" Old Sheepskin's theoretical knowledge from his studies was far insufficient, and he didn't quite grasp my reasoning, just shaking his head with wide eyes. It was unclear if he disagreed with my point or was warning us not to let our guard down. Fatty's grasp of class struggle was much higher than Old Sheepskin's. He immediately agreed with my analysis, but Fatty also expressed that, under these conditions where the enemy is hidden and we are exposed, we must be extra cautious and keep our wits about us. If that nun were willing to be buried with the landlord class, attempting to overturn things, we certainly couldn't show mercy—oppose imperialism and oppose revisionism; I’ll smash her dog head!

Given the social context back then, when we lacked a guiding principle, the only recourse was to seek guidance from the Four Great Volumes of Quotations. Since we had never read any other books, our sole source of theory was the Little Red Book; the Red Book was our invincible encyclopedia. By extracting a program for struggle from it, all our actions gained purpose. Now that we had direction and had clarified her status, we were no longer as panicked as when we first saw the female corpse.

We rallied our spirits and dragged our exhausted bodies around the chamber, searching everywhere. The facilities and items here were extremely numerous. Besides various specimens of human and animal organs, there were countless bottles of medicine and liquids. In truth, I didn't even know what we were looking for to cure the poison. I just couldn't stand by and watch our comrade Ding Sitian die. We just assumed that detoxifying and drawing out poison would require some kind of antidote, and since the Japanese research institute raised the Scaled Ruan for study, they should have related medication. But seeing row after row of densely packed medicine bottles, Fatty and I were both dumbfounded.

Although Fatty and I had spent some time working in the mountains and knew some local first-aid remedies, we didn't possess much real medical knowledge, nor had we ever studied in this area—we were too busy participating in the world revolution to have time to study! Apart from handling some common chemicals out of youthful curiosity, we were completely unfamiliar with the vast variety of pills and agents. Was the antidote for Ruan poisoning an injection, a liquid, or a pill? What kind of markings would it have? We had absolutely no concept. This wasn't something we could guess at; medicine has its own toxicity, and taking the wrong thing might kill her even before the poison took effect. Even if Fatty and I were willing to risk our lives to test the medicine for our comrade, we couldn't possibly test thousands of different agents.

Fatty said dejectedly, "It's over, Old Hu. With our skill level, we couldn't even find a painkiller in here. Even if the antidote was right in front of our faces, we wouldn't recognize it. Besides, even if we found it, do we inject it in the arm or the buttock? If it’s a pill, how many? When? Our brothers are completely clueless about these things. What are we going to do?"

I was also at a loss, but as long as there was still time, I refused to give up trying. Seeing the overwhelming number of agents in the cabinets made us dizzy. We weren't even sure if the contents of the cabinets were medicine. After all, we were young and had thought the problem through too simply. Cruel reality cannot be altered by human will. I felt we couldn't waste any more time on these pharmaceuticals.

After a moment of careful thought, I recalled the stories Ding Sitian had told us in detail about her father capturing Ruan centipedes. The Scaled Ruan generates wind when it moves; it is no common creature. Among Ruan centipedes, most are not poisonous; though ferocious, they can only kill humans and beasts through sheer muscular force. Only the Scaled Ruan is an exception; it is the most lustful of the Ruan. It has a water-splitting bead in its skull and a wish-fulfilling hook in its tail; when combined in congress, it can service ten women a day. The Huangdi Neijing calls it a supreme treasure. The poisonous mist spat by this Scaled Ruan is extremely harmful to women, its toxicity similar to snake venom. It is said that where poisonous insects and snakes frequent, there will be an antidote herb within five steps. But where the Scaled Ruan appears, the only thing that counters it is the "Guanyin Vine," which can only drive away or capture the Scaled Ruan but does not detoxify or draw out the poison.

If we couldn't find an artificial antidote and had to seek another way out, we would only survive if there were venomous snakes nearby, allowing us to find herbs that counteract snake venom. But the crucial problem was that the Hundred Eyes Cave area was full of all sorts of poisonous creatures except venomous snakes. My mind was jumping with anxiety. In my agitation, I continued walking aimlessly deeper into the chamber, determined not to give up until I had turned this storage room upside down.

Fatty followed behind me, holding the candle stub. My engineering light was off, and my mind was in chaos. Walking blindly forward in the dark, I didn't pay attention to where I was going and walked straight into a thick sheet of glass. I cried out in pain while rubbing my forehead. Looking up ahead, by the candlelight held by Fatty behind me, I saw a cabinet lying horizontally against the wall. Inside stood a large, tall glass jar. Through two layers of glass, I could vaguely make out what looked like a set of bleached white bones, and the shape was definitely not human.

Fatty and I marveled silently: why would bone specimens require such sealing? Fatty immediately stepped forward, smashing and prying until the cabinet door opened. It turned out that this large storage cabinet contained dozens of jars sealed with wax, holding specimens of strange and exotic beasts, and even the desiccated corpse of an ancient child. These were probably important items, stored using double-layer isolation sealing. The jar containing the complete white skeleton was particularly prominent; the jar was nearly the height of an adult, filled with pale yellow liquid, in which the coiled skeleton of something resembling a python was preserved. There wasn't a shred of residual flesh on the bone.