We had anticipated every possible contingency beforehand, ensuring that should any mishap occur, we could retreat unscathed. We had already placed another lacquered coffin across the entrance of the tomb chamber as an obstacle. After the corpse was set ablaze, we all retreated into the doorway of the inner chamber behind the coffin, extinguished all light sources, covered our mouths and noses, and held our breath, intently watching the firelight in the doorway. Knowing something was about to happen, tension was unavoidable; our hearts pounded against our ribs, waiting for the "Descending Immortal" of the ancient tomb to appear.

The flames roared fiercely, illuminating the tomb chamber brilliantly. The female zombie, the "Guanshan Mistress," was consumed by fire. As the corpse burned, its sinews contracted violently. The body, engulfed in flame, suddenly sat up with a thump. It twitched and shuddered while wrapped in fire, the shadows flickering wildly for a moment. We peered from the doorway of the inner chamber, yet we felt none of the fire's heat; instead, goosebumps rose all over our bodies, and a chilling dread pierced straight to our core.

Strangely, though the body was burning, no smoke arose, nor was there a heavy stench of charring. Instead, a faint, cool fragrance lingered. As we wondered at this, we suddenly heard a faint rustling sound (xixi suasua) emanating from the tomb's four walls. My heart whispered that the main event was beginning. I quietly gestured to the others, signaling them to heighten their spirits and watch closely.

Under the intermittent glow of the flickering firelight, numerous small, slender "Lingli Rats" began squeezing out one after another from the cracks between the tomb bricks in the South Dipper chamber. These grey rodents live in dark underground places, named so because they favor eating "Tuotai Worms," which are also called "Lingli."

The "Tomb of the Wuyang King" had now become a haven for insects and vermin. Those grey rats, usually terrified of fire, seemed irresistibly drawn by the fragrance produced by the burning corpse. Dozens of Lingli Rats formed a circle around the body, sticking their heads out, low to the ground, their eyes glittering. They stared at the pyre with a mixture of fear and apprehension.

I couldn't fathom what the rats were up to, nor could I imagine how a "Descending Immortal" could manifest within this tomb. Where was that almost imperceptible, mournful cry, like a woman weeping, originating from? My mind was filled with confusion. The scene before me was bizarre and eerie, as if I were trapped in a fog, growing more bewildered by the moment.

I felt Yaomei trembling beside me. As someone from the mountains, she inherently believed in the concepts of "inviting an immortal" or "summoning a spirit." Although this practice has waned in modern times, in remote regions, some people still hold a deep-seated conviction. Moreover, there is a saying: "It is easy to invite a spirit, but difficult to send it away." The so-called "Descending Immortal" is almost never a true immortal; firstly, whether such entities truly exist in this world is debatable, and secondly, the practice of summoning borders on sorcery; even if a celestial being existed, it might not respond to the call.

Those who might possess someone are likely creatures like the "Fox, Yellow, White, Willow, Grey"—that is, foxes, weasels, hedgehogs, snakes, and rats. Because these beings are cunning and possess the most sentience, they are collectively called the "Five Tong," signifying spiritual connection, or commonly, the "Five Great Immortals." As the saying goes, "Age breeds anomaly." When these creatures live long enough, they become adept at manipulating human minds. Folk belief widely holds that the "Five Tong" can evolve into genuine immortals. If it’s not one of the "Five Tong" being summoned, it might be a lone, wandering spirit. Such entities are notoriously difficult to deal with; you won't get rid of them without being skinned alive.

I had heard these legends countless times, so much so that my ears were practically calloused, yet I had never encountered a believable instance of a genuine "spirit summoning." All the rural gossip I had heard flashed through my mind. Now, seeing the grey rats pouring out of cracks in the walls from all directions—easily over a hundred in an instant—a sudden thought struck me: "Perhaps the rats, being the 'Grey Family' among the Five Tong, are using this female corpse as a candle in the South Dipper chamber, drawing out numerous rats. Could the true immortal guiding us with spectral sounds be a grey rat? Could it possess one of the five of us?"

The realization sent a jolt of fear through me, breaking out in a cold sweat. But just then, a different disturbance occurred in the tomb chamber, one completely contrary to my expectation. Peering from behind the coffin by the firelight, I clearly saw a sight that instantly tightened my chest. I thought, Not good. How could such a terrifying thing appear in this tomb chamber?

It turned out that as the corpse burned, the fire reached its zenith. The body of the female creature had almost become a candle wick; its torso and head were scorched into glowing red charcoal. The dark red firelight reflected on the tomb walls. On the western wall, cast upon the tomb bricks, a pitch-black human silhouette appeared—the profile of a plump, affluent-looking noblewoman.

The ghostly outline of the woman strongly resembled the murals I had seen in the passageway. I was both startled and intrigued. It seemed the South Dipper chamber truly harbored some sort of Tang Dynasty entity. Most likely, the "Guanshan Taibao" had excavated it from some ancient Tang tomb. But what exactly did the murals depict?

Seeing that Fatty, behind the coffin, was becoming restless, I quickly waved my hand gently, signaling him to remain calm and observe. This was not the optimal moment to act. At that moment, Yaomei seemed to witness something terrifying, displaying extreme shock. Fortunately, Sun Jiuye was quick; he clamped a hand over her mouth, forcibly swallowing her cry of alarm.

Shirley Yang also gestured to me, urging me to look further into the chamber. Sensing something was amiss, I immediately focused my gaze. I saw the flames consuming the corpse gradually dimming. All the grey rats in the room began swaying unsteadily, as if drunk, moving slowly toward the front wall of the chamber. Unbeknownst to us, one of the rats must have triggered a hidden mechanism. Suddenly, there was a faint kā sound, and the section of the wall where the "ghostly shadow" had appeared slowly began to rotate—it was a revolving mechanism wall, a "Chagezi" trap.

Accompanied by a strange, rustling sound, a seated woman was revealed behind the hidden wall. Her clothing and attire were characteristic of the Tang Dynasty. The woman was heavily powdered, her makeup garish, her body covered in flabby, whitish flesh. Her skin appeared rosy and delicate, seemingly breakable at the slightest touch, yet her vitality was gone; she was clearly a Tang Dynasty jiangren (reanimated corpse).

The rats appeared to be trembling, dragging their tails as they prostrated themselves toward the ancient Tang corpse. I watched this scene intently. I recalled that the Bantian technique of the Banshan Daoists relies on exploiting the principles of mutual creation and destruction among all worldly things—for every substance, there is a restraint. Rats have numerous natural enemies; cats and snakes prey on them. Legend holds that when a rat encounters a cat, it freezes merely upon hearing the meow of an old cat that has eaten a hundred rats; the grey rats would be too terrified to move. But this was mere folk tale; no cat, no matter how many rats it had consumed, could make a rat drop dead with a single sound. Furthermore, why would a jiangren excavated from an ancient Tang tomb be feared by rats?

My mind wandered. In that momentary lapse of concentration, I heard the jiangren, resembling a plump Tang noblewoman, let out what sounded like a cold laugh. The hair on the back of my neck instantly stood up stiffly (shuā). But having resolved to see this through, I steeled my resolve and remained motionless behind the coffin.

Then, the ancient Tang corpse emitted a string of spectral tones—ethereal, plaintive, and mournful—the "ghostly sound" reappearing in the chamber. I wondered, Can a zombie really sing? I widened my eyes and strained to look. What I saw astonished me even more: the (bloated) figure remained motionless, its mouth unmoving, yet the ghost sounds were clearly emanating from deep within the corpse's abdomen, as the rock wall was right behind it.

I realized the deception: the one chanting the ghostly sounds was a "Duxian" (Belly Immortal). That was another strange summoning art. I had heard that those who summon a "Duxian" are practitioners of ventriloquism who use their abdomen to speak without opening their mouths. An uninformed person witnessing such a spectacle firsthand would naturally believe there was a "deity" residing within the sorcerer’s belly.

But what I saw was utterly inexplicable. How could a corpse be performing a summoning by ventriloquism? Could a dead person’s belly truly produce sound?

The intermittent "ghostly sounds" were, to my ears, utterly discordant. I barely understood Peking Opera, let alone the content of a "ghost sound" melody lost for a thousand years. After listening for a while, the bizarre sounds made me increasingly agitated. I was about to step out from behind the coffin’s shadow to confront the zombie and uncover the trick, when I noticed Sun Jiuye crouching nearby, using a luminous pen to write rapidly on the plank of the lacquered coffin.

Seeing Professor Sun tilting his ear, I surmised he had managed to decipher the content of the "ghost sound." To avoid missing anything, he was temporarily recording what he heard on the coffin lid.

Although Professor Sun’s handwriting was messy, I could still make out the characters. I looked down; he had written: "Wu Gorge Coffin Mountain, Earth Immortal Hidden Away; Dragons Spitting Water, Ancient Tomb Map; Zhuge Hidden Troops, Coffin Tower Soul Confusion; Life Gate Connected, One Head One Tail; Twenty-Four Thousand, One Hundred and Seven..."

Shirley Yang and the others also noticed Sun Jiuye's action. Everyone's heart leaped wildly. First, they were relieved that Professor Sun could understand the cryptic "ghost sound" melody; second, the continuation of the "Guanshan Guiding the Way Inscription" held profound, inscrutable meaning; thirdly, how could they confirm this passage was genuine? What if it was a phantom conjuring illusions to mislead tomb raiders, leading them once again to a dead end, just like the "Shadowless Immortal Bridge" they had encountered before?

I was filled with surprise, joy, and deep doubt. As the ghostly sounds in the chamber gradually faded, I immediately shifted my focus from the coffin back to observing the movements within the room. I saw the grey rats filing into the hidden chamber behind the wall, as if hypnotized. They swarmed over the ancient Tang corpse, large and small. Suddenly, the mouth of the noblewoman’s corpse opened, and a withered claw reached out, snatching one of the rats that had climbed onto its face, dragging it into the female corpse's mouth. Following the rat's final, piercing squeak (zhīzhīzhī), a stream of dark, foul rat blood trickled out of the zombie’s mouth. Only a rat tail remained twitching near its lips, its spasms growing weaker, swinging lifelessly like the pendulum of a clock counting down to death.

I remembered the skinny old man sitting cross-legged on the noblewoman’s tongue in the Tang mural, and a chill ran down my spine. At this moment, perhaps someone’s legs had gone numb from crouching too long, or perhaps they were stunned by the sight of the zombie devouring the rat. Someone involuntarily shifted their leg and accidentally bumped the lacquered coffin, making a sound. The fire consuming the corpse in the chamber extinguished, plunging everything into darkness. When I finally switched on the tactical flashlight again, only the charred remains of the female corpse lay in the South Dipper chamber. The hidden wall had closed, and the chaotic swarm of rats had vanished without a trace, as if nothing had happened. If not for the several lines Professor Sun had inscribed on the lacquered coffin, one would truly believe the entire episode had been a nightmare. The terror in my heart lingered long after.

Professor Sun sighed deeply and sat down against the lacquered coffin. He said to me, "Was that a Duxian in the chamber just now? I was so tense my nerves felt like they were about to snap..." He then muttered the cryptic verses of the 'Duxian' guide to himself repeatedly: "Wu Gorge Coffin Mountain, Earth Immortal Hidden Away; Dragons Spitting Water, Ancient Tomb Map; Zhuge Hidden Troops, Coffin Tower Soul Confusion; Life Gate Connected, One Head One Tail; Twenty-Four Thousand, One Hundred and Seven... What do these words refer to? What is Zhuge Hidden Troops? And where is the Ancient Tomb Map?"

Seeing Professor Sun deep in contemplation over the "Guanshan Guiding the Way Inscription," I didn't want to interrupt his thoughts. I stood up and walked toward the wall with the hidden compartment, but Professor Sun grabbed me after just one step.

Professor Sun asked, "Hu Bayi, where are you going?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "I think I've grasped some clues. Analyzing them combined with the data I previously collected, this inscription must mean that the Earth Immortal Village is extremely well-concealed, nearly impossible for outsiders to find. It also seems to suggest that a map drawn by the Earth Immortal remains at the place where the ancient tomb's dragons spit water. We should find the Life Gate in the Coffin Tower to discover the map. Think about it... The Wuyang King’s underground palace has three layers of tomb gates, and there is a waterfall carved with azure-scaled old dragons overhead. We should go there immediately to retrieve the map, and then..."

I pushed Professor Sun's hand away. "Don't rush off yet. The authenticity of this Guanshan Guiding the Way Inscription is dubious. If there’s a trap waiting at the waterfall, rushing over would be a great mistake! Old Master Hu needs to investigate this chamber first."

Sun Jiuye looked astonished. "Investigate? You want to find out the origin of that ancient corpse behind the wall?" I nodded. "The Duxian matter is extraordinarily strange. Until I see clearly, I won't be truly at ease. Even if there were a Duxian in the abdomen of the Tang Dynasty zombie, how would it know a Ming Dynasty Guanshan Guiding the Way Inscription? Besides, the lost ghost sound sounds like a cat crying for a rat; it hardly resembles human speech. I didn't catch a single word. If we don't risk uncovering the truth now, our future actions will face even greater danger."

My mind was set; no amount of persuasion would change it. Instinctively, I patted the various apotropaic items in my satchel, beckoned Fatty and Shirley Yang: "Let’s go." The three of us were old hands at this sort of work; our tacit understanding was something outsiders couldn't match. We needed no last-minute briefing. We calmly rounded the lacquered coffin and entered the chamber, turning on the tactical flashlight and approaching the west wall. We searched the wall in a grid pattern, trying to reverse the mechanism that turned the wall.

I felt my way from left to right, then top to bottom, but found no mechanism. The stone wall was thick and uneven in many places. Just as I was struggling with where to begin, Shirley Yang whispered beside my ear, "Have you noticed... Professor Sun's behavior is quite abnormal?"