After a doleful melody ended, Duoling and Gu Cai wept for a long time before finally managing to arrange their master's remains. Ruan Hei possessed nothing, no legacy; the only treasure he held was a priceless Youth-Preserving Pearl tucked inside his mouth. He had lived a life of poverty, only to enjoy a luxury usually reserved for emperors and generals in death. After half a lifetime spent gathering pearls, he was finally interred within a giant clam shell—in the eyes of the Egg Folk, a clam of this magnitude was akin to a dragon's lair, so perhaps he died in a fitting resting place.

However, we searched for ages among the small mountain of piled shells but could not find a single shell intact or large enough to serve as a proper coffin. This sunken courtyard, walled in on all sides, was covered in ancient relief carvings depicting the butchering of clams for their pearls, interspersed with countless empty conch and bivalve husks; it was undoubtedly a place once dedicated solely to prying open shellfish. While out at sea, we once netted a giant clam whose shell was as crystalline as snow, its two valves interlocking like teeth, forming a protective armor so tightly joined that no gap remained. If only we could have found a shell like that of a man-eating clam, that would have been the most suitable spiritual object for a coffin.

I refused to give up hope. I peeled back the top layer of shells, hoping to find a man-eating clam buried deeper within. To my surprise, after pushing aside several layers, a large copper plate was revealed underneath. I brushed away the fine shell fragments and silt, noting that the copper had been immersed in seawater for ages, yet the surface was marred with countless red blotches. Etched into the plate were numerous depictions of completely naked female figures, their forms captured in the act of playing and swimming in the sea, their postures intoxicatingly seductive and beautiful.

We were astonished to unearth such an object, unsure what this exquisite metal plate represented or why it had been buried beneath a mound of shells. The plate had two bronze rings, suggesting it was a lid that could be lifted. I started to suggest it might be a coffin meant to hold a body, but then reconsidered; the imagery and design did not seem right for a sarcophagus. Who would cast bronze rings onto a coffin lid? I swallowed my words, unwilling to pry open the copper plate without knowing its purpose, and signaled to Fatty, and the two of us continued to clear away the surrounding shell debris.

Fatty dug out the surrounding conch shells, exposing the entire object. It turned out to be a giant green conch shell, as large as a water vat, sealed at its opening by the copper plate. Looking at the shell’s natural markings, one could clearly discern the form of a woman, complete with clothing patterns, fingers, and even an navel on the abdomen. Her features were strikingly lifelike, almost identical to a living person. We had often heard tales of Arhats or Guanyin appearing naturally formed within clams, but today we witnessed something genuinely extraordinary; a water-patterned exterior shaped like a woman was certainly a rare marvel of the sea. The rumors whispered by the Egg Folk and fishermen about human shapes within the shells were not baseless fantasies after all.

I called for Uncle Ming to come and see. He too was unsure of the purpose of this conch sealed by a copper plate, guessing it might be a shell coffin crafted by the ancient Hentian people. I had heard of clam coffins before; it was an actual burial custom in antiquity, though they typically used clams, not hulking, vat-sized old green conches. Those interred in clam coffins were usually fishermen, often bachelors. This bizarre and rare custom was likely rooted in the desire to perform a ghost marriage with a clam spirit.

Fatty declared, "Then it must be certain. Why else would the copper lid be adorned with so many women, and why would the shell itself bear the natural sculpture of a beauty? The person interred in this conch coffin must be a veritable lecher, one who couldn't be satisfied with just one wife. Judging by this display, how many did he plan to keep after death?" He began counting the figures on the lid but lost track after a while.

When Uncle Ming heard us suggest this might be a rare conch coffin, he grew eager. Where there is a coffin, there are burial objects; how could he not be tempted? He immediately resorted to goading, spurring Fatty and me on: "How could that sordid custom of performing ghost marriages with clam spirits in the countryside possibly be related to this conch coffin? I believe this green conch is no ordinary thing. The corpse inside might not be a lecher at all. After all, he's been dead for millennia; how can we later generations possibly judge his character when he was alive?"

Hearing this, Fatty bared his teeth and retorted, "Hey, Uncle Ming, don't you trust Fatty's discerning eye? If the corpse in the coffin has a pearl in its mouth, the body certainly won't have decomposed yet. Let’s make a bet. I say he's absolutely a lecher. Why else would a hooligan like that put so many women on the coffin lid? A lustful man has strong passions, and his toe hair is always black and long—that's excellent evidence."

I thought to myself that people who swim often do have more developed leg hair, and those who lived on the Coral Spiral Sea would naturally have thick hair on their feet. A tightly sealed conch shell would preserve everything. For the nobles of the Hentian Kingdom, having a pearl in the mouth after death wouldn't be an unusual matter; perhaps even his facial features and body hair might have been preserved to this day. Fatty was no fool, either. Betting on whether the dead man's feet had hair was not only ingenious but also gave him a seven-tenths advantage from the start. If the body had decayed, he would at best only tie with Uncle Ming.

Fatty provoked Uncle Ming further, and the elder couldn't stand it, gnashing his teeth to accept the wager to see if the ancient corpse in the conch was truly a lecher. The bets were placed. Fatty's stake was a gold watch he had salvaged. Having been financially ruined, Uncle Ming had little of value left, so he reluctantly put up one of the South Pearls that had been allocated to him.

Shirley Yang whispered to me, "Don't let them make a fool of themselves. Think if this is truly the right course of action." I replied, "What harm is there? We are... conducting a scientific investigation. Didn't Professor Chen also say that when approaching science and truth, one must always make bold assumptions and proceed with cautious verification? Whether the ancient corpse was a man deeply devoted to women is an important topic within the scope of academic research. I recall many scholars specifically researching King Hailing, that supreme philanderer. If they are allowed to research such matters, are we, the tomb raiders, not permitted to study them? Furthermore, if this green conch truly is a coffin, it would be the perfect place to bury Captain Ruan Hei. He was a bachelor too; burying him here would surely be more fitting than interring some ancient rogue."

I asked Gu Cai and Duoling if they agreed. Having never experienced things like this, the siblings said they were willing to follow my arrangements. So, I immediately told Fatty to lift the lid, trying not to damage it, as we would need it later to bury Ruan Hei.

Shirley Yang had no choice but to try persuading Uncle Ming not to gamble with Fatty. Uncle Ming scoffed, "The bet is struck; there's no turning back! But Miss Yang, don't worry. Who do you think your Uncle is? I've handled more ancient corpses than I can count, and I have never once seen toe hair preserved on a dead body. Whether it's a zombie or the corpse's vital gases are sealed by jade blocking the seven orifices, given enough time in a special environment, a body might remain lifelike, but the hair on the feet will absolutely fall off."

Uncle Ming's smugness was palpable. He continued with self-satisfaction, "Miss Yang, look at those two brats; they always disrespect their elders and have no sense of reality. But they still lack experience; they're still too green. Experience matters, and it’s time they learned a lesson."

Hearing Uncle Ming claim victory, Fatty and I exchanged a look, feeling a surge of annoyance, silently cursing the old rogue for being so cunning. I racked my brain, and indeed, I couldn't recall ever seeing hair on the feet of any zongzi (dried corpse). This time, the bet was too rushed, and perhaps we had indeed been overconfident. However, I wasn't worried, because I knew Fatty's character well: he felt pain only when cutting flesh or losing money; if he didn't gain an advantage, he felt cheated. How could he possibly let this old Hong Kong farmer, Uncle Ming, win?

At this point, Fatty found his tools, put on a mask, and waved us back a few steps, signaling everyone to keep clear so as not to be struck by the ominous energy from the coffin. He then lit a mermaid candle on the pile of shells. The directions were completely lost, so he lit it out of habit before seizing the bronze ring and shouting "Open!" with his qi gathered in his dantian (energy center), he pried up the copper lid stuck in the conch's mouth. The shell was certainly not empty; there seemed to be conch meat inside. As the lid opened, a beam of white light shot upward, carrying an aura of treasure, yet it was intensely foul and putrid.

We waited for the white gas to dissipate before daring to approach. Inside the coffin, a corpse was indeed lying there. Fatty, Uncle Ming, and I were too impatient to examine the ancient corpse's features; we rushed to look at its feet first. The corpse was curled within the vat-sized shell. Its feet were unusually pale and smooth, completely devoid of even a single strand of thick, black toe hair.

Uncle Ming immediately said, "See? No hair on the feet! The ancient corpse certainly wasn't a lecher when alive. Fatty, you lost, you have to admit..."

Fatty, with a look of sincere repentance, countered Uncle Ming, "No hair on the feet doesn't necessarily mean he wasn't a lecher! No hair means... it means... it means this guy was a sexual deviant, worse than a common scoundrel. Besides, what we bet on was whether the ancient corpse was lustful in life, not whether it had black hair on its feet. Of course, I'll admit defeat if you want, but you at least have to provide evidence that this dead body wasn't lustful." His argument was specious, yet frustratingly hard to refute.

Uncle Ming was once again trapped by Fatty's rhetoric and was nearly choking with regret, looking to Shirley Yang to mediate. Just then, Shirley Yang was examining the corpse inside the conch shell. She told us, "Stop arguing. This conch shell is not a coffin for the deceased. If this mountain, riddled with caves and stone halls, is the ancient tomb of the Hentian people, I believe this conch shell might have been used to seal funerary items. This courtyard is a side chamber for burials."

I was startled by this. Although the precursors to Feng Shui originated in the Western Zhou dynasty, from the distant Yin-Shang era onward, both cities for the living and tombs for the dead adhered to certain established principles. For instance, shapes that were central, square, and straight, and orientations of "facing south from the north." These were, in fact, the prototypes of Feng Shui. Take the principle that "North is Yin, South is Yang; north of a mountain and south of water is Yin, while south of a mountain and north of water is Yang"—this concept already appeared in Yin-Shang burials, indicating that the principle of Yin and Yang predated the complex derivation of the Five Elements interaction. However, to suggest that this mountain, which housed the bronze statue of the Sun Shooter, was an ancient tomb was genuinely difficult to comprehend. Before the Spring and Autumn or Warring States periods, it was impossible for a tomb to contain such a magnificent grand hall.

I presumed Shirley Yang understood these historical precedents, and if she stated this, she must have her reasons. I watched as Shirley Yang put on gloves and gently lifted the corpse from the conch shell. Its limbs were limp and soft in her hands, the flesh like watery silk, appearing to be nothing more than a boneless, empty skin sac. Yet, its features—eyes, nose, and mouth—were all present, and its long, black hair was completely intact. It was clothed in a thousand-bead robe, with bare feet and hands, and wearing a fishbone crown. It was, after all, a female.

We had only focused on the corpse's feet earlier and hadn't realized it was a woman. We felt deeply ashamed. However, seeing Shirley Yang dare to lift the boneless female corpse from the shell, I urgently said, "Is that proper? Put her down quickly! Be careful of a corpse transformation!"

Shirley Yang said she needed to search the giant conch for a map of Guixu. The female corpse was as soft as mud, lacking any skeletal structure. Legend says that King Xu Yan Wang¹ in ancient times was a man with tendons but no bones; it seems such a body truly exists. The reason I believe the conch shell contained grave goods or hidden precious artifacts, rather than the primary coffin, is that this female corpse doesn't seem to be the honored occupant. She looks more like a mysterious collection item, and there were other strange things in the shell besides her. As she spoke, she placed the body on the copper lid that had been pried off and then retrieved several items from the empty conch: a pair of ancient, pitch-black bronze swords, a tortoise-shell divination jade plate, several mermaid candles, and a jade bottle of ancient, simple design, tightly sealed at the mouth. The bottle was heavy, suggesting it was filled with something.

Shirley Yang and I were equally curious about the purpose of these bizarre items found in the conch. Just as we were about to examine them closely, we saw Uncle Ming and the siblings, Duoling and Gu Cai, staring fixedly at the boneless female corpse, their faces ashen, their facial muscles twitching uncontrollably. I quickly asked, "Uncle Ming, what's wrong?"

Uncle Ming seemed paralyzed by an invisible pressure, breathing heavily, his throat constricted as if choked, making it difficult even to speak: "That's not... that's not a woman's corpse. That thing is... a Mèi²!"

¹ Xu Yan Wang, given name Dan, was born in the thirty-sixth year of King Zhao of Zhou. Historical records state that Xu Yan Wang "was born wrapped in his amnion, which did not rupture; deemed inauspicious, he was abandoned by the waterside." Because his birth sac did not break, he resembled a ball of flesh, which his family loathed and considered an ill omen, leading to his abandonment. According to Shizi, Xu Yan Wang "had tendons but no bones," likely referring to his exceptional flexibility, making him seem boneless.

² Mèi, pronounced /mɛɪ/, the same as Mèi (). Shuowen explains: "Mèi, the spirit of an aged object."