When a person is interred in a coffin and buried, if the grave is ever reopened near Bottle Mountain, regardless of how long ago they died, the body in the coffin will have vanished without a trace. The coffin and its seals remain perfectly intact, untouched by any outsider, yet all that remains inside are the funerary jades and bamboo chopsticks; the burial garments the deceased wore lie exactly as they were, the buttons still fastened, but there isn't a shred of skeletal remains to be found anywhere.
Locals have a legend that before the Yuan troops swept through, Bottle Mountain was a forbidden zone where the Emperor refined elixirs. Beyond its unique topography—a natural grotto-heaven—a crucial reason was that Chenzhou in Western Hunan was rich in cinnabar, and the mercury refined from it was an indispensable ingredient for alchemy. Everything was concocted here, from elixirs promising longevity and eternal youth to potent secret draughts, so the mountain was saturated with medicinal vapors year-round.
Over time, the rocks and soil of Bottle Mountain absorbed these corpse-dissolving, bone-melting vapors. Any corpse interred in the mountain dissolves, leaving behind only a lingering, diffuse miasma that drifts and shifts with the earth’s vital energy, hence the name, the Land of Shifting Corpses. Only the ancient corpse of the Yuan Dynasty general in the mountain's belly remains, having died due to the dark arts practiced by the cave dwellers. This zombie could not easily decay and, furthermore, gained potency from the immortal elixirs within the tomb, refining its essence into spirit.
It is said that ever since the ancient tomb developed a fissure, people have occasionally seen a fully armored zombie roaming the mountain every few decades; these are all claimed to be eyewitness accounts, not idle talk. The custom of corpse-driving is deeply rooted in Western Hunan, leading to a strong belief in the menace of reanimated corpses. Thus, rumors spread that a Corpse King lies buried beneath Bottle Mountain, and those who dare enter the mountain to tomb-rob or gather herbs are slain by the zombie and its spectral soldiers. Consequently, everyone speaks of it with dread; who would dare have the gall to venture into the ancient tomb complex deep within the mountain?
Chen Xiazi let out a cold laugh upon hearing this. With his vast experience, he was not about to be frightened by the superstitious tales of these locals. He had, however, heard the name "Land of Shifting Corpses," but he knew it was merely a legend from the Chu-Wu shamans of the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods; such a place could not truly exist. Yuan Dynasty tombs were always buried deeply and richly; they often contained defensive techniques from the Western Regions, and their burial goods were rarely as lavish as those of Central Plains royalty, making them historically less favored targets for grave robbers.
But the commander of the Yuan army buried at Bottle Mountain fell in battle while suppressing the Seventy-Two Miao Tribes; the spoils he seized must have been immense. Add to that the rare treasures dedicated by successive imperial families within Bottle Mountain, and the wealth stored in that subterranean palace and (Nether Hall) might rival that of an imperial mausoleum. However, the tomb's unique formation meant that fewer people were capable of breaching it, and its remote location kept it isolated. Thus, fewer people in modern times knew of it; otherwise, groups would have long since flocked here to loot. Why wait until today? Now that the opportunity has arrived, it seems destined to be the moment for the Xie Ling band of robbers to achieve something great.
Chen Xiazi calculated that his group were outsiders, unfamiliar with local customs, and they could not succeed without a guide. Killing the guide was not an option, but he had to first put the man at ease. If the guide leaked information and caused morale to collapse among the ranks, the consequences would be dire. So, he said to the familiar Miao man, "It's no boast from me, sir. Everyone in Xiangyin knows that Manager Chen is the most skilled in the arts of ghost catching and corpse driving. Moreover, I have a generous nature and always support good people. I now intend to lead my subordinates to rid the people of harm by dispatching the zombie in Bottle Mountain. If you are willing to assist, you will certainly reap rewards." As he spoke, he slipped ten silver dollars into the guide’s hand.
The Miao guide saw that Manager Chen was generous, while Commander Luo, with just a glare, looked capable of killing someone on the spot. If he refused, he would likely end up as a corpse right there. Caught between the carrot and the stick, these two ancestors were both too formidable to offend. In this situation of soft and hard coercion, escaping was impossible. To protect his life and property, he had no choice but to comply with every order, ready to face knives or boiling oil if necessary, never daring to utter a word of dissent again. He then led the band of robbers past this area of looted burial pits and back toward the Righteous Manor at Old Bear Ridge.
After casing the area several times, confirming the layout, Chen Xiazi felt he had the situation under control, awaiting the arrival of Mute Kunlun Moller with the engineering battalion before taking action. Old Man Luo was growing impatient, constantly asking Chen Xiazi if the treasures in the tomb were literally cartload after cartload, and whether the Yuan soldiers and generals buried in the ancient tomb were all Mongols.
Chen Xiazi said that his recent reconnaissance had yielded much valuable information. Although the ancient tomb had fractured since the late Qing Dynasty, the terrain was treacherous, and it was filled with numerous mechanisms and venomous creatures, making it difficult for small raiding parties to succeed. The likelihood of treasures piled mountain-high in the underground palace was 99.9%; the only concern was severe erosion from wind and rain.
Furthermore, the Yuan Dynasty forces were not entirely Mongol. The army that swept through the northern territories and the Western Regions, marching south, was comparable to the coalition of eight nations that broke into Beijing in the Gengzi year—it was an allied force from various foreign states of the Western Regions, including Han Chinese units that had surrendered and defected. Therefore, the burial customs might not be entirely uniform. They chose Bottle Mountain, this grotto-heaven, as a burial site, also in a vain attempt to suppress the dragon energy of the Southern Dynasties. Bottle Mountain had always been an imperial forbidden zone, already laced with many traps designed to prevent the theft of elixirs. After being sealed as a grand tomb chamber, most of these mechanisms were likely retained; this must be guarded against when raiding the mountain later.
As they spoke, dusk was falling. At twilight, Mute arrived with a composite force formed from three separate units. Chen Xiazi’s hundred-plus robbers, though hastily assembled, were mostly familiar highwaymen, maintaining order and discipline despite their mixed nature. In contrast, Luo Laowai’s troops were largely a mob of undisciplined riffraff. The soldiers selected for the Engineer Digging Battalion were either opium addicts, patrons of brothels, or compulsive gamblers—nearly every one of them valued money over life. Only they would dare to loot and desecrate tombs without scruple.
Luo Laowai was a persistent thorn in the side of several local warlords. He kept his venture into the depths of Western Hunan to raid the tomb completely secret, fearing that other warlords might launch a surprise attack. Moreover, tomb raiding carried a terrible reputation, and if word got out, he would become a public enemy. Thus, he dared not bring his main force. Each raid involved only an engineering battalion supported by a pistol company. At Old Bear Ridge in Western Hunan, speed and stealth were paramount; they had to finish and withdraw quickly. The whole affair should ideally not exceed three to five days. This was unlike operating on his home turf where he could seal off the mountain under the guise of military exercises and proceed as he pleased.
Seeing that all personnel had arrived, Chen Xiazi knew that increased numbers meant increased noise, so delay was impossible; they had to act swiftly. He ordered everyone to tie strips of red silk soaked in cinnabar around their left arms for mutual identification among the three teams. They then set up camp around the Righteous Manor and rested until midnight before setting out. The nearly thousand-strong contingent, led by the guide, leading mules and pulling horses, carrying significant supplies, moved under the moonlight, advancing mightily toward Bottle Mountain. To ensure the secrecy of the operation, everyone encountered along the way, regardless of whether they were local or foreign, was seized and forced to serve as porters accompanying the expedition. At the break of dawn the next day, the Engineer Digging Battalion reached the Earth Gate at the mouth of Bottle Mountain.
The robbers did not excavate the tomb entrance at the mountain pass; they preferred an easier route, planning to cut directly into the subterranean palace from the cliff face at the summit. The path was winding and steep; horses could go no further than the mountainside, so all necessary supplies had to be carried by the porters. The long line of men snaked its way up the ancient stone path. Looking back from the top, it resembled a yellow dragon crawling up the ancient bottle shape.
That morning, the fog over Bottle Mountain was extremely thick. Looking up toward the heights, it felt as if they were ascending into the clouds; upon reaching the higher elevations, the clouds and mist lay below them. The digging engineers also knew they were ascending to rob a tomb. In battle, every man might shrink back, but in grave robbing—digging into a mound to find golden dog heads—what a marvelous prospect! Since they hadn't been paid for months, seeing an ancient tomb ready to be dug now made them all eager, rubbing their hands, eager to follow their officers up the mountain, complaining not a bit despite the difficult terrain.
In truth, these several hundred men from the engineering battalion primarily served as hard labor in the tomb-raiding venture; the truly effective elements were Chen Xiazi’s subordinates. Each of those hundred-odd robbers carried a large bamboo basket containing the Xie Ling band's unique secret tool—the Centipede Mountain Ladder. This device was a segmented bamboo ladder, indispensable for the Xie Ling robbers when ascending mountains or descending ravines, whenever they encountered difficult or dangerous terrain.
When dismantled, the Centipede Mountain Ladder consisted of sections of bamboo tubing, as thick as a forearm, made from the most resilient bamboo, soaked dozens of times in boiling oil until they could be bent into a full bow shape without snapping. Each section had interlocking clasps, positive and negative, at both ends, and two circular holes the thickness of the tubing running along its length. When assembled vertically with a central rod, it formed a long pole; horizontal bamboo rungs were inserted on either side for footing, and a Hundred-Claw Mountain Hook was fitted at the top, making the whole contraption look remarkably like a segmented bamboo centipede.
When faced with sheer cliffs too difficult to climb, one man could use two Centipede Mountain Ladders, hooking them into crevices in the rock and pine, allowing for rapid ascent up the most perilous precipices. Moreover, the name "Hanging Mountain" was not limited to mountain climbing; both "mountain" () and "digging" () were ancient metaphors for tombs. "Mountain" referred to mausoleums. Because tomb shafts, often damaged by explosives, were narrow, grave robbers found it hard to carry large equipment inside. The collapsible Centipede Mountain Ladder could be carried by individuals, allowing them to move freely without being constrained by terrain. Some ancient tombs featured coffins suspended high in the chamber by iron chains to prevent water seepage; the bamboo ladder served as an aid, saving considerable effort during the looting process. The prototype for this Centipede Mountain Ladder evolved from tools used by the Red Eyebrows Army during their sieges in the Han Dynasty, refined through generations of trial and error over decades to achieve its current form.
Chen Xiazi led his men to the mountaintop and saw that colored mist was still rising from the rift valley, though it had weakened considerably by noon. The venomous pythons and insects of the mountain, naturally preferring darkness, must surely be dormant now, making it the perfect time to act. He beckoned, ordering the porters to empty bags of quicklime into the deep ravine. As the lime sacks struck the bottom of the chasm, they burst open, the lime scattering and boiling violently. No matter how vicious the toxic creatures, they could not withstand this choking cloud. Even if they miraculously survived, they would surely flee far away.
However, the engineering battalion had only hastily prepared about two hundred bags of quicklime. When thrown, much of it was scattered by the mountain wind, meaning the remaining amount was insufficient to cover the entire valley floor—it was a mere drop in the bucket.
The crowd on the summit stamped their feet anxiously upon seeing the shortage of lime, but considering their success that day, the lime they did scatter proved highly effective. The toxic haze in the depths gradually dissipated, leaving behind only an empty, vast expanse of white mist. Chen Xiazi planned to send down two or three nimble men to scout first, asking the crowd, "Who is willing to descend?"
Immediately, two sturdy men stepped forward from the crowd of robbers: Sai Huohou (Live Monkey Rival) and Di Libeng (Bouncing from the Earth), both skilled climbers and trackers. Eager to seize an opportunity to display their prowess before the bandit leader, they immediately volunteered to explore the depths. Chen Xiazi praised their courage and ordered them down the cliff.
The two men bowed in acceptance, each placing a five-poison medicinal biscuit in their mouths. They carried pigeon cages for testing toxins, a box pistol and a waist saber strapped to them, covered their mouths and noses with black gauze, and dragged two Centipede Mountain Ladders. They were seen slipping through the clouds and fog, vanishing in an instant. The others peered down from the edge of the cliff at the summit, holding their breath for them, knowing that their fate—life or death—now depended on the fortune of these two men.
Chen Xiazi maintained a composed façade, but with the outcome so uncertain, he felt an underlying anxiety. Luo Laowai grew more impatient, repeatedly pulling out his pocket watch to check the time. But they waited and waited; everyone's necks ached from straining to look down. They shouted down repeated calls, but the rift valley remained utterly silent, with no sign of movement, only the ominous cloud growing ever denser.