After walking for some distance down this passage littered with snails, we pushed open an iron door, revealing a sudden expanse. Shafts of light from outside the mountain filtered down from above; the rain had stopped, and a rush of cool, refreshing air washed over us. Everyone let out a sigh of relief. This was the connecting section at the end of the auxiliary tunnel; we would soon reach the west-side air-raid shelter. This vast area penetrated the entire mountain belly; it had once been riddled with mine shafts, but now it was reinforced with steel and concrete.

Seeing Grandpa Sun grimacing in pain, his hands bloody, I suggested we rest for a moment before proceeding so I could bandage his wounds.

Professor Sun set down his pack and found a dry spot to sit. Shirley Yang took out the first-aid kit to clean his injuries. Professor Sun sighed, "You can't deny age. Ten years ago, a fall like that would have been nothing! Back when we were at the Laogai Farm in Guoyuan Gully…"

As I sat down, seeing Grandpa Sun putting on airs again—incapable of big things, failing at small ones—I was about to tease him when I looked up and noticed a shadowy figure crouching behind him and Shirley Yang, secretly reaching out to pinch a snail stuck to Professor Sun's back, popping it into its mouth as soon as it was detached. The dark shape was utterly silent, yet neither Shirley Yang nor Professor Sun seemed to notice.

My heart leaped. I pulled Yaomeier behind me and yelled, "We have company!" I immediately jumped up, my "entrenching shovel" already in hand. Fatty reacted with astonishing speed, raising his hand and firing the "Chain Quick" crossbow. Two short bolts, tipped with armor-piercing steel cones, shot out like twin locusts. With a whoosh, they streaked past between Professor Sun and Shirley Yang, grazing the shadow and embedding themselves in the concrete wall.

The dark shape in the corner, like a ghost or a phantom, bolted away in fright with incomprehensible speed. Just as Fatty prepared to shoot it again with the Chain Quick, Professor Sun suddenly shouted, "Don't shoot!" followed immediately by a cry, "Old Feng... Don't run! We aren't here to capture you... The Cultural Revolution ended long ago..."

Professor Sun's shouts echoed repeatedly in the vast, empty air-raid shelter, but the only response was the piercing, mournful wail of the "air-raid siren" from the depths of the shelter.

Fatty and I were just about to move to pursue the shadow when we heard the piercing air-raid siren erupting within the shelter. The sound carried exceptionally well in the tunnel, and the desolate, drawn-out wail seemed to summon the response of every mountain and ravine, sending shivers down our spines.

Everyone was startled. How could an air-raid siren be sounding in the Qingxi air-raid shelter tunnels, abandoned for years? Was the missing Commander Feng responsible? Fatty cursed, "That commander must be a rabbit; how could he run so fast?" Yaomeier said, "It wasn't human. Who has such speed? I thought it looked like a monkey from the Bashan Mountains..."

What had just happened was too swift. There were many skylight-like cracks in the tunnel, letting in considerable light. Although it wasn't pitch black everywhere, the light and shadows were hazy, and we hadn't clearly seen whether the dark shape was human or ape. Just as we hesitated, wondering whether to investigate the strange sounding siren,

Professor Sun suddenly sprang up and bolted toward the depths of the tunnel. He shouted Commander Feng's name as he ran. Shirley Yang and I reached out to grab him, but missed. I shouted, "Grandpa Sun, are you crazy?" I broke into a run, chasing after him, and signaled the others to follow as quickly as possible.

We ran dozens of meters along the tunnel until we reached a massive, arched concrete doorway. Grandpa Sun, ahead of us, finally stopped. The air-raid siren's continuous blast was emanating from the dark corner near the wall still bearing the slogan, "Prepare for war, prepare for famine." In that unlit recess, something was rustling and moving incessantly, apparently shaking a hand-cranked air-raid siren.

As Professor Sun stopped, I lunged forward and grabbed him, simultaneously raising my "Wolf's Eye flashlight" and sweeping the beam into the dark corner. Sensing the change in light, the thing in the corner lifted its head. It was a strange, furry face like a mountain ghost, its blue eyes piercing and bright as candles.

The mountain-ghost-like creature was momentarily blinded by the intense beam of the Wolf's Eye. With a panicked, strange cry, it dropped the "hand-cranked air-raid siren" it was manipulating, and the air-raid alarm that shook the cave immediately ceased. It raised a hand to shield its eyes from the glare. The hand was covered in wrinkled skin, black fur, and extremely long nails—definitely not a human arm.

By now, Shirley Yang, Yaomeier, Fatty, and the others had caught up. Seeing the scene, Fatty immediately raised his "Chain Quick Crossbow," intending to shoot the creature dead, but Grandpa Sun frantically pushed his crossbow away, gasping, "Don't... Don't shoot an arrow, Old Feng... It's... It's Old Feng..."

Yaomeier didn't know who Old Feng was, but looking ahead, she exclaimed in surprise, "How could that be Old Feng? That's a Bashan Ape commonly found in the mountains. Which mountain person hasn't seen one?"

The Bashan Ape in the corner was nearly as tall as a person. Taking advantage of the group's hesitation, it shielded its eyes, temporarily scorched by the Wolf's Eye light, and slipped into the darkness beyond the concrete doorway. Its mournful howl faded to a hundred paces away in an instant; even the Chain Quick couldn't catch it now.

Fearing Professor Sun might have another fit and chase the Bashan Ape, I dared not loosen my grip, still holding his arm, and asked, "Grandpa Sun, are your eyes playing tricks, or have you lost your mind? You can't tell the difference between a person and an ape? Didn't you see clearly? How could that be Commander Feng?"

Professor Sun stamped his foot, "Do you think I'm like Old Chen, going mad from one shock? That was clearly the ape Commander Feng kept! I saw it back at the Laogai Farm. That beast is a sly old thief. Even when it wasn't with its master, it was always stealing things, bringing them to Old Feng when no one was looking—cigarettes, liquor, tea, eggs, fruit... there was nothing it couldn't swipe. I benefited quite a bit back then, too."

Shirley Yang said to Professor Sun, "Professor, are you certain? Bashan Apes are found everywhere in the deep mountains. There isn't only one that Commander Feng tamed in the whole world."

Professor Sun replied, "Though my eyes are old, I wouldn't mistake it. Why? Because that old ape had a gold plaque around its neck. I saw it immediately. Back when Old Feng was sent down for reform, he wasn't allowed to keep any personal belongings. He had a waist plaque passed down from his ancestors, a Guanshan Taibao token, bestowed by the first Emperor of the Ming Dynasty. If it had been discovered then, it would have been confiscated. Commander Feng couldn't bear to part with it, so he hung it on the ape's neck. When he escaped back, he must have brought the ape with him."

I said, "It seems Commander Feng was quite a legendary figure. If he truly lived to this day, I would certainly like to meet him."

Fatty picked up the "hand-cranked air-raid siren" from the ground, saying this was a rare item now, collected by specialists in Panjiayuan. He wondered where the ape stole it to play with. It was a pity to leave it here, so he stuffed it into his bag. He added, "Since it seems intelligent, why don't we catch the Bashan Ape and force it to lead the Japanese army to sweep through Dixian Village? This creature surely likes sweets. The army has plenty of American chocolate! What's the worry about finding the entrance to the ancient tomb?"

Professor Sun said, "Although the Bashan Ape is clever, it is still a beast. Relying on it to lead the way is impossible, but we can follow its tracks. Perhaps they will lead us to Old Feng and the ancient tomb of Dixian Village."

I nodded, "Exactly. Wang Fatty, the Pig-Head Squad Leader, you want to be a 'Taichun' (Japanese officer), don't you? You’ll be our pathfinder. Hurry up and get moving."

Fearing the Bashan Ape would escape too far to track, everyone dared not delay and immediately chased after it down the tunnel. This tunnel cut through the entire mountain west of Qingxi Town. Tracks for hauling earth and rock were laid on the ground, and numerous mine shafts honeycombed the mountain, leaving the air-raid shelter and regular tunnels as only a small part of the complex network. The terrain inside was intricate with many forks. After walking several kilometers through the dark, long tunnels, we hadn't seen a trace of the Bashan Ape; we had no idea where it had fled.

For now, it seemed that to visit Dixian, we should first find the "Wuyang Stone Beast" rather than wandering aimlessly through the labyrinthine tunnels following the Bashan Ape. We reluctantly continued toward the end of the air-raid shelter tunnel, which approached an area of intersecting ravines—a place untouched by the Wuyan mineral veins and the area we had originally planned to investigate.

Reaching the tunnel's end, we saw that the side walls had collapsed, revealing a large cavern filled with loose earth, bricks, and stones. The color of the bricks suggested they were ancient. Inside, there were half-excavated Wuyang Stone Beasts, partially visible in the earthen layers. A quick glance suggested there were quite a few of them.

I suggested to the others that this collapse might have occurred when construction was nearing its end. These air-raid shelters were a product of a specific era; in mountains riddled with irregular ancient mine pits, collapses and seepage were severe. Building any civil defense facility was risky; surviving without being buried alive would be a miracle, let alone expecting it to function for three defenses.

Professor Sun took the flashlight and peered into the collapsed cavern: "Is this a tomb pit for human sacrifices? But it doesn't quite look like it..." He then noticed the half-carved "Wuyang Stone Beasts" and a large quantity of stone material, leading him to speculate that this was a place where stone beasts were carved and manufactured in ancient times. The cavern interior was the size of seven or eight residences. The exposed rock layers were smooth and hard, and the vein structure was very peculiar. The stone used for carving the "Wuyang Stone Beasts" was quarried locally. Other than that, there was nothing particularly special, but this rock chamber did not contain Wuyan mineral veins. If the engineering tunnel hadn't extended here, it never would have been exposed.

Shirley Yang detected a draft of cool air moving along the mountain wall, suggesting a small gap leading out to the soil. With a gentle push, a poorly sealed brick wall collapsed, and a large sheet of bright light streamed in. I leaned out and saw that the cave opening was on the mountainside. In front of the opening was a steep, winding stone path leading down to the bottom of the valley, though the view of the valley floor was obscured from this vantage point.

Opposite us was a vast cliff face, soaring to meet the sky, sheer and towering for a thousand ren (a traditional unit of height), shrouded in swirling mist and vapor. Dozens of waterfalls, formed by the recent rain, surged out from within the mountain, plunging from the cracks in the cliff face directly to the valley floor. Because the cliffs were incredibly high, the falling water looked like silver threads dropping straight down amidst the ancient, lush precipices—a truly magnificent sight.

Carved into the sheer cliffs on either side of the gorge were narrow pathways (niaodao) recessed into the mountainside, crisscrossing intricately like a net of pearls, leading to unknown destinations. The section beneath the Wuyang Stone Beast cave entrance was just a negligible part of this network. I asked Yaomeier what this gorge was called. Yaomeier said it was the "Coffin Gorge," famous for its abundance of cliff-hanging coffins. A long time ago, there was an ancient custom here of "hanging coffins to seek fortune, letting the fallen log signify peace." However, that custom belonged to many, many generations past. Many nearby gorges had hanging coffins, but the "Coffin Gorge" earned its name precisely because of the sheer number of them.

I thought about the legends of the "Ancient Tomb of Dixian"; none of them mentioned cliff-hanging coffins. The "Guanshan Taibao" would hardly choose such an exposed place, battered by wind and rain, for his resting place. So I asked Yaomeier what was at the bottom of the gorge and if anyone had ever descended there.

Yaomeier shook her head, saying she didn't know clearly. The local people knew that "Coffin Gorge" didn't just refer to one gorge but was an intersection of more than ten deep, perilous ravines. Viewed from above, the terrain resembled the character "Wu" (), so it was also called "Lesser Wu Gorge." Most of the cliffs here contained ancient suspended plank roads carved by ancestors, but because they were so ancient, these paths had become hopelessly lost, breaking off halfway in many sections. Furthermore, there was no road from the outside to enter; even the local mountain folk rarely knew the routes, because besides the dangerous paths, the Coffin Gorge was dense with hanging coffins hiding the remains of the dead. Who would come here without cause? I once heard the old folks say, "Coffin Gorge, a single thread of sky, nine out of ten who see it worry."

Grandpa Sun said, "That's it! The current locals don't distinguish between the ancient suspended paths and the embedded bird paths of the mountain. The ancient paths in Coffin Gorge were actually embedded inside the sheer cliff, with a shallow cave every so often, like a bird nesting in its lair. That phrase about intricate bird paths and returning nine times in a hundred steps must refer to this crisscrossing network of bird paths. The 'hundred steps bird path' should be one section of it. If we can find this path, we won't be far from the entrance to the ancient tomb of Dixian."

Shirley Yang stared for a moment and remarked, "The sheer, towering cliffs drop over a thousand cuo (a measure of distance), the terrain is intricately complex, twisting and turning. With the lofty, hazy mountains and the surrounding clouds and fog, how can we determine which section is the 'nine turns in a hundred steps' area?"

I observed that the "Coffin Gorge" was indeed extraordinary. What did a drop of over a thousand meters mean? It was equivalent to stacking several dozens-of-stories-high skyscrapers on top of one another. Moreover, each gorge wound and circled, while mist rose from the mountains, and turbulent currents roared—the atmosphere was mysterious, magnificent, and breathtaking. It was more than enough to gaze upon, and more than enough to appreciate.