I didn't have time to feel scared at all; I hurriedly turned the engineering flashlight around, shining the beam beside me. Ding Sitian was lying perfectly still on the ground, but none of us had noticed until now that next to her face, against the wall, rested a small bronze chest. The lid of the chest was cast with the head of a weasel, and the rusted bronze box was quite small, the lid roughly level with Ding Sitian’s head. When I had casually reached out just now, I had touched the weasel head on the lid. Its form was strangely peculiar; though it was clearly a weasel, it was strikingly anthropomorphized, the contours and undulations bearing a strong resemblance to a human face, causing me to mistake it for the mask of that great Xianbei female corpse.

Fatty heard the noise and scrambled up to look as well. At that time, the surge of energy and stamina we possessed was almost unimaginable. After surviving several near-death experiences, wounded and without food, we could spring back to life almost immediately after a brief rest following intense combat. Looking back later, I found it strange—why hadn't we collapsed yet? Besides the impetuousness of youth, there was a primary reason, which was actually very simple and very pure: we genuinely believed that what we were doing was dedicating our youth to helping all of humanity escape the fiery pit. We harbored no doubt on this point; the power supported by faith is infinite. Those who have never truly believed in a power deep in their bones can never understand.

Fatty and I moved Ding Sitian aside and crowded closer to examine the bronze chest. This mysterious chest was covered in old, mottled bronze patina, and its surroundings were etched with shamanistic runes and talismans that I couldn't make heads or tails of. However, the body of the chest was inlaid with conspicuous turquoise stones and gold thread, making it appear quite opulent—clearly no ordinary antique. This bronze chest wasn't like the boxes we usually see; the lid wasn't connected by hinges but, like a coffin, required the entire lid to be lifted off to reveal what was inside.

In fact, this bronze chest truly resembled a small, exquisitely crafted ancient bronze coffin. The situation was clear now: it had been excavated by the Mud-Eater bandits from the Great Khingan Yellow Immortal Temple. It was almost certainly this coffin-like ancient bronze box. Looking closer at the lid, there was the hideous visage of the weasel, its head and face almost the size of a human’s. Traces of red sealing wax still clung to the seam where the lid met the body, suggesting it had been opened before.

Fatty, driven by curiosity, muttered, “This chest is much smaller than we first thought. What kind of miscellaneous junk—cats and dogs stuff—is kept in these 'Four Olds'?” He mumbled this while preparing to lift the lid and see for himself. We had smashed so many things during the past 'Smash the Four Olds' campaigns that we hadn't paid much attention to this object.

I quickly interjected, “Don’t touch it. Though this box is small, I see it as a small temple harboring a great demon, a shallow pond housing many turtles. The Japanese devil who died here, trapped in this secret passage, wanted to escape. If we reason backward slightly, we can reach a conclusion: the numerous inexplicable deaths in this research institute are likely connected to this bronze box and that female corpse. The only reason we’re still alive is that there’s one thing we haven't done: open this bronze box. 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 cannot afford any more needless sacrifices.”

Fatty nodded in agreement, finding a convenient excuse for himself: “To prevent the class enemy from making a final, desperate lunge before their demise, let’s not disturb this box. I think I’ve got a bit of strength back now. Let’s focus on figuring out how to save Sitian. Old Hu… tell me… is there any hope for her?” Fatty’s voice trailed off as he reached the end, almost afraid to say the words. He was genuinely worried sick about Ding Sitian, and a flicker of doubt had surfaced in his mind. Such emotion was a rare sign of unease for him.

I told Fatty, “As long as we unite, as long as we have courage, as long as we dare to fight and are not afraid of difficulties, pressing forward relentlessly, then the entire 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 globe. There are many things in this underground chamber; let’s search around first…”

As I spoke, I glanced at Ding Sitian’s current condition. Since the signs of Raji poisoning appeared, based on past legends about the toxicity of the Scaled Raji, we estimated she had at most twenty-four hours left. Although less than half a day had passed, given the repeated shocks and external injuries, the poison had already seeped into her bones. It seemed unlikely she could last another full day. At most, perhaps two more hours before the Raji poison reached her heart, turning her complexion from blue-green to black; even potent antidotes would be useless by then.

I knew there was no time to delay and had to adopt a spirit of continuous operation. I quickly asked Fatty to help me stand up. Old Sheepskin was useless now; he was completely spent, his whole body feeling like it had fallen apart, unable even to stand. He had to stay put to guard Ding Sitian. Our engineering flashlight had been used for a long time, and the spare batteries had been left by the brick kiln door; we didn't know how much power was left. In this pitch-black underground chamber, all movement depended on light, and we were loath to use it casually unless absolutely critical. So, I dug out two candle remnants from my pocket, lit them, and used them as our light sources.

Currently, the entrance to the chamber was blocked by the carcass of that dead spirit ginseng. The decaying human remains clinging to its roots were scattered everywhere, compounded by the assortment of biological organs strewn across the floor near the door, and the smell of preservative fluid that had almost formed a river—the state of the underground chamber can only be imagined as utterly foul. Only in the corner where we were situated was there some air circulation, making breathing bearable. Walking further into the room, our eyes stung and teared up, and every breath we took felt like inhaling a mouthful of lime dust.

Fatty and I, using the dirty, blood-stained insides of our jackets to cover our mouths and noses, were about to begin searching when Old Sheepskin, leaning against the wall caring for Ding Sitian, suddenly tugged at my clothes. He hadn't caught his breath yet and couldn't speak, so he painfully pointed towards the great Xianbei witch corpse lying horizontally on the stone platform. His expression showed both profound alarm and a warning for us to be extremely cautious of the corpse suddenly attacking.

I nodded to Old Sheepskin, thinking that saving Sitian was the priority. Since the corpse hadn't moved at all, it was best not to provoke it yet. I gently kicked the bronze chest some distance away, then said to Old Sheepskin and Fatty, “We don’t fully understand what’s going on with this Great Xianbei Witch. But since Chairman taught us to unite all forces that can be united, I’m applying this learning practically, immediately. So, I’ve been thinking, perhaps we can ally with that female corpse too. A figure like a Witch is probably similar to a nun in a temple. Although their work belongs to the realm of feudal superstition, they don't own any property themselves. Just like the nuns in a convent, the temple or abbey belongs to the state, not them personally. Analyzing it this way, we can determine class background. The class background of the Great Xianbei Witch is very likely within the proletariat camp. Well… if… of course, if she became a witch voluntarily, at best she’s just a self-employed person. Petty bourgeoisie—that’s an internal contradiction among the people. If they don’t attack us, we won’t attack them. Moreover, this corpse might be connected to the catastrophic disaster that occurred in this research institute, perhaps even having contributed to the anti-Japanese effort. Even if we don’t entirely see eye-to-eye, we should mind 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, simply shaking his head with wide eyes. It was unclear if he disagreed with my analysis or if he 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 stressed that in this situation where the enemy is hidden and we are exposed, we must be extra vigilant and keep our wits about us. If that nun were to willingly martyr herself for the landlord class, attempting a reversal, we couldn't afford to show mercy—we must oppose the imperialists and oppose revisionists; I’ll smash her dog head!

Given the social backdrop of the time, when we lacked a clear leader, the only recourse was to search for guidance in the Four Great Volumes of quotations. Because we had never read any other books, our sole source of theory was the Little Red Book; the Red Book was our invincible encyclopedia. Extracting our program of struggle from it gave purpose to all our actions. Now that we had a direction and had distinguished the class element, we were no longer as panicked as when we first saw the female corpse.

We rallied our spirits, dragging our exhausted bodies to search throughout the chamber. The facilities and objects here were incredibly numerous: besides various specimens of human and animal organs, there were countless bottles of potions and liquids. In truth, I didn’t even know what we were looking for to cure the poison; I just couldn't let myself stand by and watch our comrade Ding Sitian die. We reasoned that detoxification should involve some kind of antidote or agent, and since the Japanese research institute raised Jinlin Raji for study, they should have related medicines. But seeing row upon row of dense medicine bottles, Fatty and I were somewhat dumbfounded.

Although Fatty and I had spent time working in the mountains and knew some basic wilderness first-aid remedies, we lacked any real medical knowledge and had never studied it. We were too busy participating in the world revolution to have time for studies! Apart from some common chemical solutions handled out of childish curiosity, we were completely ignorant about those varied types of pills and agents. Was the antidote for Raji poison an injection, a liquid, or a pill? What would its label be? We had absolutely no concept. This wasn't something we could guess at; all medicine has some toxicity, and taking the wrong thing might kill her before the poison even took full effect. Even if Fatty and I were willing to risk our lives to test remedies for our comrade, we couldn't test thousands of different agents.

Fatty said dejectedly, “It’s over, Old Hu. With our skill level, we couldn’t even find an aspirin in here. Even if the antidote was right in front of our noses, we wouldn’t recognize it. Furthermore, even if we found the antidote, do we inject it into the arm or the buttock? If it’s a pill, how many tablets? When do we take them? We two brothers are completely clueless about this stuff. What are we going to do?”

I too felt lost, but as long as there was time, I refused to give up trying. Seeing the dizzying array of agents in the cabinets, we didn’t even know if the contents were actually medicines. We were young, after all, and had viewed the problem too simply. Cruel reality does not yield to anyone’s will. I felt we couldn’t waste any more time on these pharmaceuticals.

Thinking it over carefully, I remembered the detailed stories Ding Sitian had told us about her father capturing Senraji (Forest Raji). The Jinlin Raji was a creature that generated wind, far from ordinary. Among the Raji, most were non-venomous; though fierce, they could only kill humans and livestock through sheer physical strength. Only the Jinlin Raji was an exception among them, being the most lustful species, possessing a water-dividing pearl in its skull and a wish-fulfilling hook in its tail; when joined in intercourse, they could satisfy ten women a day. The Yellow Emperor's Inner Canon called it a supreme treasure. The toxic mist spat by the Jinlin Raji was extremely harmful to women, its toxicity similar to snake venom. It was said that where poisonous insects and snakes lived, there was an antidote herb within five steps, but where the Jinlin Raji appeared, only its nemesis, the 'Guanyin Vine,' existed—yet the Guanyin Vine could only drive away or capture the Jinlin Raji, having no effect in curing or extracting the poison.

If we couldn't find an artificial antidote and had to seek another path to survival, we would need to find venomous snakes nearby and use the herbs that cure snake venom to survive. But the killer detail was that although the Hundred-Eyed Cave area was infested with all kinds of poisonous creatures, there were no venomous snakes in sight. My brain felt like it was tightening with anxiety. Distraught, I walked aimlessly deeper into the chamber, unable to give up until this storage room was completely turned upside down.

Fatty followed behind me, cupping the candle remnant. My engineering flashlight remained off; my mind was in chaos. Blindly walking forward in the dark, I didn't notice where I was going and crashed headfirst into a thick sheet of glass. I yelped in pain, rubbing my forehead while cursing. Looking up ahead, guided by the candlelight Fatty held behind me, I saw a cabinet resting horizontally against the wall. Inside, standing vertically, was a large, tall glass jar. Through two layers of glass, I could vaguely make out a set of stark white bones—the shape was clearly not human.

Fatty and I marveled silently: if it was just a skeleton specimen, why store it so securely? Fatty immediately stepped forward, smashing and prying the cabinet door open. It turned out this large storage cabinet held dozens of jars sealed with wax, containing specimens of strange and exotic beasts, and even the dried corpse of an ancient child. Perhaps these were important items, stored with double-layer isolation. The jar containing the complete white skeleton was the most prominent, nearly the height of an adult. The large bottle was filled with a pale yellow liquid, in which the coiled skeleton of something resembling a python rested, completely devoid of any residual flesh on the bones.