, clad in his night gear, with Hong Guniang and Miaozi, advanced into the darkness, following the sound of weeping. The direction from which the cries emerged was precisely where the massive boulder had fallen. The closer they got, the clearer the mournful sounds became—a chaotic symphony of sorrowful wails, as if a great multitude were crying out in unison. It was an eerie resonance that echoed through the woods, undeniably unnatural, nothing like the sighing of wind through the forest.

Seeing such an anomaly in the dead of night, was instantly wary. He held his breath, gathering his concentration, and crept forward scores of paces until a dense thicket of ancient trees loomed before him. The source of the ghostly moaning and howling emanated from within that clump of woods, where the dappled moonlight cast ghostly shadows, lending the air a chilling, palpable sense.

The guide, at this sight, was terrified. He knew silence was paramount and gestured frantically, signaling for and Hong Guniang to halt their advance immediately. In the deep of night, in this isolated thicket, there should be no one else around. Surely, these were the vengeful spirits from the Pingshan Tomb, agitated by the destruction of their resting place, lingering nearby. Even if they had the courage of bears and leopards, they dared not venture further in.

paid the Miaozi no mind. Seeing the thick canopy obscuring the moonlight, making movement below uncertain, he grabbed the guide by the collar, pointed toward the treetops to Hong Guniang, and immediately hauled Miaozi up one of the old trees. The branches of this forest cluster were thick and robust, capable of bearing considerable weight at their crowns.

Miaozi, one of the local natives skilled in climbing trees and traversing mountains, along with the exceptionally agile and Hong Guniang, scaled the canopy swiftly and silently. They flattened themselves, concealed within the highest leaves, using the faint moonlight from above to peer down stealthily.

Beneath the fractured moonlight, they could see the frontal section of Pingshan mountain, sheared away, resting on the ground like a colossal, inert beast. The mountain body was fractured with countless fissures, large and small, with numerous rocks having already tumbled out. The interior structure was exposed, though from their distant vantage point, and the others could not discern the exact conditions inside the mountain rock.

In front of the fallen rock mass lay debris: shattered tiles and various burial objects—gold, silver, bronze, and jade scattered everywhere. It seemed the tomb chamber had suffered a violent impact, scattering the internal bricks, stones, and artifacts. Additionally, an exceptionally large, ornate purple-gold sarcophagus lay tipped on its side. This Zijin Guo was incredibly luxurious, shrouded in pearl-stitched robes and jade casings—the pearl robes being a curtain of pearls—and the exterior was studded with flawless jade discs.

However, this purple-gold sarcophagus was shattered; the pearls and jade were broken and pulverized, strewn across the ground. Within lay a lacquered coffin made of Jinsi Nanmu wood. Its lid had been violently thrown open, leaving only a Qixing Ban (Seven-Star Board) partially covering the opening. This board, sized to fit inside the coffin lid, was made of fir wood. It was carved with seven circular holes the size of copper coins, connected by engraved grooves, hence its name. This custom dated back to the Sui and Tang Dynasties.

The Seven-Star Board partially concealed the interior, which was pitch black, revealing nothing of the Yuan General's remains. Only the incessant weeping continued to drift and swirl through the woods. At this moment, night mist flowed between the tree gaps, and a light cloud obscured the moon, rendering everything indistinct and hazy. The three crouched in the treetop, hearing cries from all directions, unable to pinpoint the origin of the lamentations. They resolved to remain as still as mountains, observing developments. lowered the muzzle of his dual-barreled mirror-cased gun, widened his eagle eyes, and focused intently on the scene below.

As they held their breath, Hong Guniang gently tugged ’s sleeve, pointing towards the purple-gold sarcophagus, signaling that from her angle, she could see something highly unusual beneath the coffin base. shifted position slightly on the branch, adjusting his view. As his eyes locked on the sight, his heart constricted: "What is that?"

Beneath the purple-gold sarcophagus was pressed a stark white, skeletal human arm. The arm was thick and long, with fingers ending in claws several inches long, covered in coarse, white fur. More than half of it jutted out from under the coffin base, utterly motionless.

The appearance of long hair on a zombie, signifying a corporeal shift, has always been deemed an "omen of ill-fortune" in legend, a precursor to the walking dead, leading to classifications like the Black Fiend, the White Fiend, and the Hairy. However, in the Republican era, scientific understanding was far more advanced than in feudal times. Even knew that hair growth on a corpse was a result of mold and decomposition.

A corpse sealed in a tomb for centuries, as long as the internal air remained stagnant, might appear lifelike upon opening. But upon contact with air, a thousand-year-old zombie would transform instantly. This change depended on the coffin material and any accompanying funerary objects. If the coffin contained moisture-absorbing funerary ash or mercury, the body would be mummified, preventing decay.

For ancient corpses sealed with pearls and jade plugs in the nine orifices, if preserved properly, they often emerged as "wet corpses" upon opening—the internal moisture locked securely within. The hair and nails of such ancient remains could even continue to grow for a century within the coffin. Upon contact with circulating air, moisture would rapidly escape. If suddenly stimulated by electricity or biological contact, accelerated decomposition would occur, leading to the rapid growth of grayish-white hair—the origin of "zombie reanimation" and the walking dead.

For , the leader of the Ban Shan grave robbers, phenomena like corporeal shifts, reanimation, and attacking zombies were commonplace; he had seen countless such sights, nothing to be surprised at. Yet, seeing a zombie pinned beneath the jeweled purple-gold sarcophagus struck him as deeply strange. The mountain collapse at Pingshan enveloped the tomb chamber, causing the coffin to fall into the woods, landing face-up. Could this outer shell be so fragile that the ancient corpse slipped out from underneath? Or was there already a zombie lurking in the woods, only to be crushed directly under the purple-gold coffin?

A tomb suspended in the void atop a mountain, followed by a catastrophic landslide, causing the coffin to drop into the dense forest—no grave robber had likely ever encountered such circumstances, and certainly lacked the experience. Given the heavy, malevolent atmosphere pervading the woods, he would certainly not act rashly before grasping the situation.

The guide, seeing and Hong Guniang intently staring at the side of the purple-gold sarcophagus from the tree, unsure what they saw, scrambled up the branches himself. He rubbed his eyes and took a closer look, then broke out in a cold sweat upon seeing the body covered in white hair pressed beneath the coffin.

It is said: "How could a tender child bear the roar of thunder? How could an ailing woodcutter hear the roar of a tiger or dragon?" Those dwelling in secluded wildernesses are often deeply superstitious, their fear of ghosts, foxes, and zombies ingrained in their bones. Upon seeing the sight, the guide’s face drained of color, and he trembled violently on the branch, barely more animated than a wooden statue.

Hong Guniang, seeing the Dong Manzi (local name for the guide) so thoroughly terrified his limbs were useless, threatening to topple from the tree, quickly grabbed the back of his tunic. Just then, the wailing in the woods seemed to coalesce, shadows flitted through the undergrowth, disturbing the leaves with a rustling clamor.

understood that the "main actors" had arrived. He lightly waved his hand to Hong Guniang and Miaozi, signaling: "Do not make another sound to alert them; remain perfectly still. We must first ascertain the nature of what is in the forest before deciding our next move." Before his hand had fully dropped, dark shapes were already leaping and darting below the trees.

By now, the night mist had thinned, and the moon emerged halfway from the clouds. The forest was revealed to be filled with a troop of monkeys—perhaps a hundred, old and young, even newborn infants clutched by their mothers. The troop approached, weeping, stopping about ten paces from the purple-gold sarcophagus. They seemed extremely fearful of the shattered outer coffin, daring not advance another step. Instead, they circled it, clawing at their faces and howling, jumping and scrambling without a moment’s peace.

and Hong Guniang, watching this large monkey troop behaving as if attending a human funeral, were deeply unnerved. A thought sparked in ’s mind: "Could the sarcophagus have crushed an old white-haired ape?" Considering this, he looked again at the arm under the Zijin Guo. It was indeed unusually long, resembling an ape’s limb. It seemed a white ape from the woods had met a sudden, tragic end beneath the falling coffin.

It is said that every living creature has its destiny; those that live long enough must face annihilation by heaven and earth. Only by evading these celestial trials can one escape the cycle of reincarnation and attain eternal, wandering longevity in the void. If that white ape had taken one step forward or one step back, it would not have been struck by the falling purple-gold sarcophagus. If not for some predetermined fate, how could it have met such an abrupt death?

could not be certain of his deduction. He continued to observe the monkeys’ actions. They wailed and cried around the perimeter, seemingly intending to lift the coffin to examine the white ape corpse underneath, yet they were also intensely fearful of something, agitatedly taking half a step forward, then screaming and leaping back as if their tails were on fire.

The three in the trees watched clearly, puzzled why the monkey troop exhibited such terror toward the purple-gold sarcophagus. Could the monkeys somehow know the potency of the Zongzi (stiff corpse) inside? As the saying goes, "The zombies of Chenzhou, the ghosts of Liuzhou." Among the most famous local products of Chenzhou in Western Hunan, besides cinnabar—known as Chenzhou Sand—and Miao artifacts, were their zombies. The customs of escorting the dead were ancient, and legends of corporeal transformation were plentiful. Thus, witnessing any strange manifestation of a corpse shift at Pingshan in Western Hunan was not entirely unexpected. Perhaps even the mountain monkeys understood that ancient corpses should not be approached carelessly.

The guide, being fearful only of foxes, ghosts, and walking corpses, was less surprised by the monkey troop, as the area around the Mengdong River often saw large herds of wild monkeys. Old Bear Ridge also had the famous White Ape Cave. These monkeys were one of the primary adversaries of merchants traveling through the deep mountains, as they knew travelers carried liquor and provisions. They would throw stones at people to rob their food. Therefore, local guides for visiting merchants would sing "Monkey Songs" to ward off harassment.

was skilled... in ventriloquism and could sing both Monkey Songs and Monkey Praises to drive them away. However, with the troop gathered around the purple-gold sarcophagus, hopping and crying, their behavior was highly abnormal. Before understanding what was happening, signaled his two companions to remain hidden in the canopy, careful not to alarm the monkeys.

Then, the hundreds of monkeys began to fidget frantically. Among them, several seemed wise; after circling a few times, they sat down and began picking up stones to hurl at the coffin. The rest of the troop followed suit, and countless pebbles rained down, striking the purple-gold sarcophagus with sharp clattering sounds. Yet, the interior of the coffin remained silent and heavy, showing no reaction whatsoever.

thought to himself: "What cunning monkeys, resorting to throwing stones to test the waters. I wonder what they truly intend to do. I shall watch them closely and dispassionately." He mused further: "The coffin remains silent even under a barrage of stones. It seems this group of monkeys is about to make their move..."

Just as he formed the thought, several bold and swift monkeys darted out from the group. One seemed hesitant and was about to retreat, only to be chased out by an old male monkey through scratching and biting. Five or six monkeys cautiously approached the yin-heavy purple-gold coffin, constantly scratching their cheeks and squeaking, appearing frantic and eager to move the coffin immediately, yet fearful that something terrifying might suddenly emerge from within. They advanced three steps and retreated two, finally gathering the nerve to reach the front, still scanning their surroundings warily. With the slightest disturbance, they would vanish in a gust of wind.

At that moment, the white ape arm pinned beneath the massive sarcophagus suddenly twitched. Whether it was reanimation or regaining consciousness, the movement terrified the nearby monkeys; their fur and tails shot straight up, and they leaped high into the air before shooting back into the troop. The rest of the monkeys were also startled and scattered widely.

After a while, the scattered monkeys cautiously poked their heads out from a distance to watch, chattering noisily for a while before regrouping and once again surrounding the purple-gold sarcophagus. Watching from the side, secretly felt anxious for the troop. He observed the monkeys gradually calming down from their fright, realizing the white ape under the coffin might still be alive. They leaped up and down in the thicket, showing clear signs of relief.

Several monkeys then approached, tails cocked, tentatively reaching out with their claws to touch the coffin, trying to shift the heavy purple-gold structure, but they seemed unsure where to begin, hopping back and forth in frustration. One particularly large, tailless old monkey, seemingly the boldest in the troop, tested the sarcophagus several times. Seeing nothing unusual, it jumped onto the Seven-Star Board, intending to move the wooden panel.

Just then, a puff of black vapor suddenly erupted from within the coffin, and a desiccated corpse abruptly sat up. This zombie was imposing and tall, its face the color of ox liver, a deep, blood-purple hue. It wore no crown, its hair a wild, unbound mess. It was clad in a richly embroidered purple burial robe with ominous patterns and a jade-inlaid gold belt—the attire of a person of great power and authority. The corpse rose with lightning speed. Before the tailless monkey could react, it was seized by the zombie with a tragic shriek and pulled into the coffin, disappearing into the black lacquer depths. The coffin was deep and large; from the tree, they could see nothing inside, only hearing the tailless monkey’s sharp scream abruptly cut off. Then, silence returned to the purple-gold sarcophagus.