Professor Sun said, "This is hardly the time for idle chatter and foolish amusement; how could an ancient tomb possibly contain a tape recorder?" Fatty seized the chance to retort, "This is merely a primitive, whimsical notion born from Comrade Hu Bayi’s lack of knowledge, superstition, and wishful thinking—a childish fantasy so ludicrous it defies description. Anyone who believes it is certifiably insane."

Why couldn't there be a "recording device" in a tomb? When I was still with the Engineering Corps, I heard a geological expert mention that deep within mountain caverns, there are specific rock strata containing something like "ferrosoferric oxide" or "ferric oxide," which generates a magnetic field capable of acting as nature's own recorder. The thunder we hear booming in the valleys on clear days is attributed to this phenomenon. I suspected the coffin might conceal a mingqi (funerary object) crafted from this special substance.

Fatty, unsure whether I was telling the truth or not, was momentarily speechless, unable to formulate a rebuttal. He only managed, "If there really is an ancient tape recorder like that, it would be worth a king's ransom..."

Seeing that the woman in the coffin continued her plaintive sobbing, which was genuinely unsettling, I signaled to Fatty to approach together. We intended to pull off the minggai (life cover) and see what was what. We lit a candle and were about to proceed, but upon drawing closer and listening intently, I realized the strange sound wasn't coming from the coffin at all, but rather from deep within the tomb bricks beneath it.

As soon as we managed to move the vermillion lacquer coffin, the ethereal "ghost sound" instantly ceased. The hollow, mournful wail seemed to arrive with the wind and vanish with it, leaving not a trace behind in the air. Fatty and I knelt on the ground, listening for a long time, yet could not locate the source. The tomb bricks were thick and solid; even after prying open a few for inspection, all we found underneath was silt soaked with standing water.

Shirley Yang said, "Old Hu, you two stop fussing over that. That ghost sound comes and goes too abruptly to be residual noise trapped in special rock strata. Finding the ancient tomb of the Immortal Village is more pressing right now."

Professor Sun concurred, "That makes sense. Better to avoid unnecessary trouble. This tomb's underground palace has been looted for centuries. There's nothing left now; who knows how much effort it will take to locate the Immortal Village. Oh, right... what characters were carved on the bottom of the coffin used for suppression? Was it the Guanshan Zhimifu [Guiding Mountains to Unravel Mysteries Ode]?"

Feng Shigu, the Immortal Master of the village, considered himself an enlightened immortal, so his tomb differed from those of ordinary people. Standard burials aimed for permanent sealing, ensuring no outsider ever saw the contents. However, the Immortal Master's tomb was intended as a destination for all sentient beings seeking enlightenment. He had left behind a treatise called the Guanshan Zhimifu. Besides direct descendants of the Feng clan, followers sincerely dedicated to seeking immortality could follow the guidance within to enter the tomb, while outsiders ignorant of its true purpose would find entering to steal treasure harder than ascending to heaven.

Judging by our various encounters in "Coffin Gorge," we understood that only the portion of the Guanshan Zhimifu that Commander Feng had personally relayed to Old Master Sun was authentic. The rest we had seen was often half-true, designed to lead people toward dead ends. This led me to believe that since we couldn't verify the authenticity of the Guanshan Zhimifu, we were better off relying on our own experience rather than being misled by those deliberately obscure hints.

But after using the "Divine Brush of Guanshan" to draw the tomb door, we realized that our previous experience and knowledge were virtually useless inside the "Ancient Tomb of the Immortal Village." No wonder the leaders of the Mountain-Moving and Ridge-Unloading factions used to say, "The exploits of the Grand Protector of Guanshan are beyond even the calculations of immortals." Now, I would say, "Only a madman can comprehend the deeds of the Grand Protector of Guanshan."

Having entered the now-empty "Ancient Tomb of the King ofde of the Shifting Mountains," although the chamber was bare, inexplicable things kept surfacing. Our equipment and energy reserves did not allow for a blind search of the entire underground palace. The Guixu Guajing [Returning to the Void Mirror] seemed capable of one or two more uses, but once the ethereal energy within the mirror dissipated, I would be completely out of options. At this juncture, we had no choice but to refocus our attention on the mysteries hidden within the Guanshan Zhimifu.

I presented this hypothesis to the group. Shirley Yang and Professor Sun and the others all nodded in agreement, but on the condition that the characters Yin-carved on the bottom of the vermillion lacquer suppression coffin were indeed the genuine Guanshan Zhimifu. Immediately, everyone worked together to flip the coffin, wiping away the sludge and dirty water from its base to carefully discern the inscriptions.

Upon inspection, the markings on the two lacquer coffins were identical. The bottom of each was inscribed with: "The nature of the woman is unknown; sealed and buried under suppression; the Southern Dipper chamber reflects the immortal descent on the wall; extinguishing the lamp with the corpse-light guides the mystery with a ghostly sound."

Lacquer coffins from the Ming Dynasty were often buried in a manner known as "suppression burial" within mass graves. We had already discovered seven or eight such coffins. According to burial rites, these should contain the remains of captives, convicts, or servants. However, I had never heard the term "Wunü" (Object Woman), so I asked Professor Sun, "Ninth Master, you are the elder Yuan Liang; we wouldn't dare speak presumptuously before you, but do you know who this so-called Wunü is? And are these inscriptions on the bottom of the coffin the Guanshan Zhimifu?"

Though Old Master Sun was rather narrow-minded and obsessed with "empty fame" to a near-pathological degree, his research into the Dragon Bone Celestial Scriptures involved reading through mountains of historical records and classics. Furthermore, while collecting oracle bones, he delved into the rural hinterlands, picking up countless "tongue slips" [unrecorded lore] in the fields. In terms of miscellaneous scholarship, truly no one surpassed him.

Professor Sun indeed knew the origin of the "Wunü." He explained that in the Central Plains, various practices of inviting gods and descending immortals were once popular. The array of spirits invoked—from Jixian [planchette spirits] to Fox Immortals—were overwhelmingly the work of charlatans putting on elaborate shows, primarily to fool ignorant women, though many people believed them.

Many years ago, when Professor Sun was young and before the Liberation, a severe drought struck the land. A man from Shaanxi claimed he could invite the Dragon King to possess him. If the devoted men and women paid a fee, he guaranteed abundant rain within three days. To convince the populace of his power to summon the Dragon King of the East Sea, he swallowed talismans and chanted incantations. In a short time, he would roll his eyes, foam at the mouth, and mutter incoherently, claiming to be Ao Guang, the Dragon King of the East Sea. Anyone who questioned him received fluent answers. Believers flocked to him, rushing to worship.

Professor Sun watched, initially almost convinced. But upon deeper thought, something felt wrong. What was it? The Dragon King's accent was wrong—a Shaanxi dialect. How could the Dragon King of the East Sea speak like a Shaanxinese local? It must be that the charlatan couldn't speak "Mandarin"; despite his elaborate pretense, he couldn't hide the regional accent he brought from his hometown.

Later, he encountered many similar tricks used to invite gods, but Professor Sun never again believed them. In all matters, the most critical element is objective observation—hence the saying, the participant is confused, but the observer is clear. It wasn't until after the Liberation, when he began working on ancient textual research and gained opportunities to collect and organize artifacts from the populace, that he heard this custom of inviting gods originated back during the reign of Emperor Wu of Han.

Legend has it that Emperor Wu lost a beloved concubine, causing him to lose all appetite for food and drink. An "unconventional master" claimed he could summon the concubine from the underworld for a meeting. A white screen was set up, with candles placed behind it, and the Emperor was seated within. Soon, the concubine's silhouette appeared on the white screen, her appearance and demeanor exactly as before. Emperor Wu was delighted and richly rewarded the sorcerer. This was the origin of spirit invocation, later evolving into shadow puppetry, where performers were often skilled in "vocal mimicry," capable of "singing a thousand years of history with one mouth, controlling a million soldiers with two hands." However, itinerant con artists often used this method to deceive the populace and extort money.

Thus, the practice of "immortal descent" has a history in China spanning at least two millennia. Where there is truth in the world, there is also falsehood. Besides charlatans, people frequently recounted truly supernatural manifestations that forced belief. To invite a genuine immortal, one required an artifact to guide the saintly descent. The so-called "Wunü" refers to a female corpse, but not an ordinary one. In life, she was a "Mistress" specialized in allowing spirits, demons, ghosts, and specters to possess her. Because she was constantly overridden by these entities, she was deemed a conduit for the spiritual, an ill omen. Therefore, such women could not be buried according to normal rites; otherwise, their corpses would be possessed by malevolent spirits, leading to harm. But when invoking a truly powerful immortal using great incantations, their bodies must first be incinerated, serving as the wick or guide before the immortal's arrival. This custom genuinely existed in the Qinling Mountains of Shaanxi and the mountains and rivers of Bashu, though Professor Sun never witnessed it himself and dared not vouch for its absolute truth.

Professor Sun continued, saying that the text of the Guanshan Zhimifu was half-knowledgeable, neither strictly scholarly nor vulgar, encompassing numerology, the Five Elements, and many historical anecdotes rooted in folk legends. How could ordinary mortals possibly understand these things? Most likely, they had never even heard of them. Those seeking the truth who wished to enter the ancient tomb of the Immortal Village had to unravel these cryptic suggestions, involving inevitable passage through danger and enduring various life-or-death trials along the way. But if they refused to bite the bullet and decode the Guanshan Zhimifu, should they return empty-handed? Six months of effort would be wasted. They decided to commit to the risk and proceed. The phrase "extinguishing the lamp with the corpse-light" surely meant burning the corpse of the "Wunü." They resolved to follow the instruction, hoping to elicit the tomb's "ghost sound" and hear how the immortal would guide them. However, Professor Sun couldn't speculate where the "Southern Dipper Chamber" might be located.

I suggested that the "Southern Dipper Chamber" was both far away and right before their eyes. If the various chambers inside the ancient tomb were arranged according to a celestial map, following the principle of North above and South below, the lowest chamber must be the brilliance of the Southern Dipper, the place meant to store accompanying armaments, swords, and blades. Furthermore, the "ghost sound" we heard emanated from this very spot. The surrounding walls were inlaid with stones representing the star chart; this was beyond doubt.

I felt the situation was precarious. Based on past precedents, the hints in the Guanshan Zhimifu often required unorthodox interpretation. Until we witnessed it firsthand, it was hard to make a preemptive judgment or distinguish truth from deception in the suggestions. If we followed them, we couldn't be sure what great calamity might be unleashed.

I gritted my teeth, thinking that setting a candle alight was traditionally the job of a Mojin Xiaowei [Grave Robber Colonel]. With the five of us present, what was there to fear? Moreover, I was intensely curious: would an attractant truly summon an immortal? And what was the secret behind the elusive "ghost sound" drifting from the tomb walls?

Hardening my resolve, I lifted the lid of the vermillion lacquer coffin that had been breached. The female corpse inside was not lying flat on her back, and she was indeed dressed in Ming Dynasty attire. According to Old Master Sun, the outer garment was a biji (a sleeveless Ming women's garment worn over a long robe, the precursor to the vest). Underneath was a Shuitianfu, also known as a Shuitianyi (a multicolored, pieced-together garment popular among Ming women). On her feet were Gongxie (bow shoes), worn by tightly foot-bound Ming women; the shoes were shaped like bows and had soles. Unbound women also wore wooden-soled shoes imitating a similar style.

I paid little attention to Old Master Sun's lengthy historical dissertation, as the state of the body in the coffin had captured most of my focus. The female corpse’s mouth was agape, her eyes wide, and her features distorted. The inside of the coffin lid was covered in crisscrossing marks, some stained with dark, dried blood. It seemed she had been nailed alive inside the coffin, and even now, witnessing it, one could imagine the horror—she had been used as the "oil lamp" for tomb raiders seeking immortal guidance.

Shirley Yang noticed a bronze plaque hanging from the corpse’s waist inscribed with "Guanshan Mistress." She sighed and said to me that these "Wunü Mistresses," all clad in Ming attire and carrying waist plaques as proof, were likely accomplices of Feng Shigu, the Immortal Master. They probably realized they were being used as human sacrifices only when death was imminent. Such cruelty could hardly be the act of immortals; it was clearly dabbling in evil practices. In Chinese traditional culture, while there is a world of difference between an "Immortal" and a "Demon," the boundary is often razor-thin; one step forward leads to sainthood, one step back leads to monstrosity.

Fatty, seeing the corpse was adorned with considerable jewelry, wanted to pocket a few items from the Mistress as "small souvenirs." Old Master Sun stopped him, saying, "We have a major task at hand; don't think about ill-gotten gains. According to ancient occult techniques, the jewelry and clothing on a corpse might conceal incense, wax, or medicinal powders. Burning them together might invoke the earthly ghost sound; otherwise, burning an ordinary corpse would suffice to summon an immortal. Don't lose the big picture for a small gain."

Fatty adopted a solemn tone. "Who's thinking about crooked money? I’m just trying to tidy her up for her, aren't I? You say this Mistress sister-in-law has done nothing to provoke you, yet you insist on burning her for your own selfish motives? And you won't even let Fatty arrange her remains? Warlords and bandits ran rampant in the old society oppressing the people, but even they weren't as unreasonable as you..."

Professor Sun knew arguing logic with someone like Fatty was fruitless. He quickly retreated, repeating, "Fine, I never said anything. I take back what I said. Just hurry up and light the fire."

At this moment, I noticed the little sister [Yao Mei'er] seemed quite nervous. I knew she had never done anything like this and must be feeling anxious. So, Fatty and I positioned the female corpse in the center of the chamber. I held the lighter, ready to ignite it. Before acting, I gave Fatty a meaningful look, signaling him to say a few words to the corpse. These were really just words meant to comfort the living. Fatty didn't refuse, speaking dramatically to the corpse: "Teacher, oh Teacher, our beloved Teacher, we know your soul has long ascended to heaven, but... but... in this cold and cruel reality, we still cannot do without you; we need your flesh to illuminate the darkness and search for the light. In pursuit of the spring of light, the soles of our shoes are already worn through..."

I saw Fatty was getting carried away, calling the Mistress "Teacher," and the content was rather outlandish. I quickly stopped his lyrical outpouring, reached out, and lit the wick. The corpse's clothes were dry as candle wax and caught fire immediately. The flames began to crackle and roar fiercely.