My unplanned venture into the mountains to seek the "Ancient Tomb of the Immortal Village" has brought forth far more surprises than I could have anticipated. The most shocking, by far, was Professor Sun's assertion that we are all already dead. If that’s true, what are we now—people or ghosts? I couldn't help but think that the old fox must have deep ties to the "Guanshan Taibao." Their art of Guanshan is practically indistinguishable from sorcery. This clique of "Taibao and Shiniang" are masters of manipulating the mind; their actions and words are so bizarrely unpredictable that anyone who believes them must be a fool.

Naturally, Professor Sun's fear-mongering held little sway over me. Seeing my skepticism, he said, "You don't have to dismiss my words so easily. Why don't you first take a good look at yourselves to see if you have any death spots..."

I rolled up my sleeve and looked. Sure enough, there were a few faint patches indicative of stagnant death qi, though not obvious. You would miss them if you didn't look closely, and they were nowhere near as distinct as the death spots on Old Man Sun's face. I bit the tip of my tongue, knowing that what I saw was no mere "illusion." A flicker of shock ran through me: When did I die? How did I not realize it? Why are there signs of corpse transformation on my body?

Mei Mei, being inexperienced, couldn't help but panic upon hearing Old Man Sun's words, tears welling up in her eyes. "If I'm dead, who will look after the Old Proprietor?"

Fatty immediately grabbed the collar of Old Man Sun's jacket and snarled, "Dead your grandmother’s egg! No weapon invented since the Ming Dynasty has been able to finish off Fatty, so what trick are you old ghosts trying now? If you don't tell the truth right now, Fatty will flay the hide off you!"

Old Man Sun remained utterly unmoved by Fatty's threat, letting out a cold snort. "Let me tell you the truth: this Ancient Tomb of the Wuyang King was once a forbidden area of Wushan in ancient times. Within the cave where the tomb lies, there are things so unimaginable that even I dare not speculate on what they are. From a modern perspective, that cavern is a supernatural zone teeming with corpse worms. Anyone who enters is invaded by death qi and transformed into shambling corpses. The longer you stay, the more pronounced the signs of transformation become, eventually inviting the corpse worms to feast. The most terrifying part is that even as you are gnawed down to a skeleton, your mind remains perfectly lucid, slowly experiencing the agony of ten thousand insects crawling through you..."

How could I possibly believe his absurd ravings? I only regretted not having brought any preserved plums ("Meizi") when we entered the mountains. Legend says that holding a single plum in your mouth, with its sour taste, accelerates saliva production, keeping you alert at all times. This prevents one from easily falling prey to demonic illusions and evil magic. The more tense, anxious, or dry-mouthed one becomes, the easier it is for the soul to be captivated by evil arts.

After a moment of frantic thought, Fatty and I used our methods to press him repeatedly. Professor Sun only repeated the same few sentences over and over: "If you still want to find a sliver of hope for survival, hurry up and bring out that porcelain bottle map. We’ll flee into the Ancient Tomb of the Immortal Village together. Otherwise, if we waste time here, everyone will end up perishing together. Regarding what I have concealed from you, once we enter the Immortal Village, I promise to tell you everything without holding back. If you try to interrogate me now, I'm sorry... even if you cut me into a thousand pieces, I will say nothing."

I felt there were many hidden circumstances here, and too many questions remained—I couldn't tell what was true and what was false. Since Professor Sun was dead set on not yielding, even if we tortured him, whatever he said would likely be a lie designed to confuse us.

Furthermore, considering the tangible evidence of "corpse transformation" on all of us—though the cause was unknown—it was clearly a bad omen, not a good one. Since we had to enter the "Immortal Village" anyway, we might as well bring this Old Man Sun along. We would bind him securely, gagged and tied, and I doubted he could cause much trouble then.

As for the map drawn on that "porcelain bottle," it was undoubtedly a crucial clue. If Professor Sun planned any mischief with the map, he couldn't hide it from my eyes. Thinking this over, I quietly conferred with Shirley Yang, and we quickly made up our minds: we would follow the map into the "Ancient Tomb of the Immortal Village."

I was extra cautious and didn't hand the "porcelain bottle map" directly to Professor Sun. Instead, I told him to instruct me directly on how to reference the coordinates on the drawing.

Professor Sun stated, "The porcelain bottle map is hidden among these tens of thousands of small coffins, with thousands of fragments scattered around, all left by the Guanshan Taibao. Every two pieces can form one map. Only by following the guidance of the Guanshan Maze-Solving Ode can one find the only two pieces that depict the correct map. If you assemble them haphazardly, you will be led astray and lose your life."

The villages and mountains drawn on the maps were all consistent. The variations in the "porcelain bottle" patterns fell mainly into two categories: one was the maze-solving verses, and the other was the coffins and corpses. I mockingly remarked that he was quick to adapt, having noticed something amiss soon after obtaining the fake map. I then described the coffin drawn on the map and the dismembered corpse to Professor Sun, asking him how to interpret the drawing.

Professor Sun replied, "In Wushan there is a Coffin Gorge, and legend says that Coffin Mountain is hidden within it. Your divination using the Gui Xu Mirror, which indicated the presence of Wushan underground, was indeed remarkably accurate. That Coffin Mountain is the true location of the Ancient Tomb of the Immortal Village. Deep underground is a natural wonder: a massive subterranean rock formation shaped like an open-topped stone sarcophagus, while the hills and ravines inside resemble a headless corpse. This Wuyang King's underground palace is that head. If one follows the true method of Mountain Gazing and Maze Solving, the corpses and the human head depicted on the porcelain bottles should point to a single coordinate."

Being well-versed in Yin-Yang Feng Shui, I understood immediately upon hearing this how to consult this "porcelain bottle map." I then asked Professor Sun, "Now that you've revealed this underground eye to me, aren't you afraid I'll just ditch you and go alone?"

Professor Sun replied with an expressionless face, "Outside the ancient tomb, yes, I would worry about you doing that. But now, you absolutely won't leave me behind because of your nature. You will constantly worry that what I say is false and that I am deliberately leading you into a trap. Therefore, wherever you go, you must take me with you."

I cursed the "Old Ghost of Guanshan" in my heart for being so calculating; he must have some massive scheme in mind. However, the immediate priority was finding the entrance to the Immortal's Tomb. I consulted the map and led the group to climb along the cliffs into the densely packed rock caverns. These caverns were half natural and half carved out, with confusing, deep, and winding tunnels inside.

The rock caverns and mineshafts covertly formed an "Eight Gates Formation." Without the "porcelain bottle map" indicating the earth-vein lines and directions, we were certain to get lost within them. We traveled through the mountains, taking countless turns and twists for an unknown distance. After passing through two gorges in the bewildering maze of tunnels, everyone felt hungry and exhausted. Suddenly, we heard the sound of wind stirring at the far end of the cavern. Approaching it, we saw several jagged, jet-black "Stone Tongues" protruding, several meters high. In Feng Shui, this kind of black rock is called "Stone Tongue Sha." Although it is a form of "evil shape" (Sha Xing), it serves to "conceal wind and gather energy." According to the map, the entrance to the "Ancient Tomb of the Immortal Village" lay behind these rocks.

However, hidden at the base of the mountain behind the Stone Tongues was a passage, its entrance obscured by rubble. Without a hint, this secret place—a "cave within a cave, a mountain hidden beneath a mountain"—would be impossible to find. Fatty pushed Professor Sun ahead to scout for traps, while the rest of us filed in. We crawled through the low, narrow passage for several hundred meters until we reached a flight of stone steps winding upward toward an exit.

Outside the secret passage, we were still underground, but it was impossible to determine which peak in "Coffin Gorge" we were inside. The distance was vast and utterly dark; the "wolf-eye flashlight" couldn't reach far. It felt like we were in a great mountain canyon, yet up close, there were trees and plants, though they were strangely shaped, and most were unrecognizable.

Shirley Yang remarked, "This is so strange. How can there be such dense foliage in the perpetual darkness underground? What kind of place is the Ancient Tomb of the Immortal Village, really?"

Seeing that everyone was exhausted from the arduous journey, I said, "What immortal dwellings are there in this world? I don't think this place is auspicious. Everyone, stay sharp and stick close to me so we don't get separated. Let's find a place to rest for a while." With that, I took hold of the tightly bound Professor Sun and moved forward.

Since Professor Sun refused to reveal the whereabouts of the "Bashan Ape-Yin," I constantly watched my surroundings while walking, worried it might attack suddenly. I was prepared to strike it down the moment it showed itself, but the creature never appeared.

After walking a short distance through a patch of dark undergrowth, we spotted a temple ahead. This brick-and-timber structure had no courtyard and was half-hidden among ancient trees deep underground. Two iron flagpoles stood before the entrance. The main hall was about two stories high, with a roof covered in green, yellow, and blue glazed tiles. The red walls enclosed it completely, giving it a solemn air. A large ancient plaque hung above the entrance, inscribed with "Martial Saint Temple," flanked by the eight characters: "Loyalty, Righteousness, Divine Might, Subduing Demons, Aiding Heaven."

I pulled out the "porcelain bottle map." The buildings drawn on it were tiny, almost invisible without a magnifying glass. Near the edge, it seemed to depict a temple structure—precisely this "Guandi Temple."

We had previously seen the ruins of this temple in the deserted "Qingxi Town." It appeared that the ancient master of the Immortals had replicated the layout of the Ming Dynasty's "Qingxi Ancient Town" underground. Based on this, the vast complexes of houses and courtyards, likely a few hundred meters ahead of the Guandi Temple, should belong to the "Immortal Village."

But where was the tomb museum of the Immortal Village? Was the entire sprawling village a tomb? Where were the Immortal Master and the corpses of his tens of thousands of disciples? Seeing how eerily silent everything was, I didn't want to rush in. I decided we should rest first inside the "Guandi Temple." This structure had supporting walls, and even if there were any evil spirits in the Immortal Village, including this Professor Sun—who might be man or ghost—I doubted he would dare cause trouble in the presence of the Martial Saint, Guan Yu. Moreover, it would be a good opportunity to press him for confessions before entering the tomb once we were clear on matters.

Shirley Yang and Mei Mei searched the temple first. Inside, there were no mechanisms and no living souls—not even a dead rat or a corpse worm. It was a clean and quiet place.

Relieved, I allowed everyone inside. The hall was adorned with carved beams and painted rafters. Arranged in the pattern of the Big Dipper were seven "glazed lamps." On either side stood six massive pillars entwined with dragons; each dragon had a different posture, their whiskers flared, making them look vivid and alive.

In the very center was a seated statue of the "Martial Saint True Lord," holding the Linjing in his hand, his expression one of "majestic solemnity and fierce integrity." Guan Ping and Zhou Cang stood on either side, guarding a chillingly cold "Green Dragon Crescent Blade." Closer inspection revealed the blade was genuine, sharpened metal, large and heavy—a weapon no ordinary mortal could wield.

In this hall, one could not help but feel a sense of profound reverence. Fatty snapped to attention with a "crack," first saluting the "Martial Saint True Lord," then shoving Professor Sun in front of the "Green Dragon Crescent Blade." He warned, "If you don't tell us the truth right now, don't blame Fatty for being impolite. Right here, in front of Lord Guan, I’ll let some blood out of this old punk immediately."

I stopped Fatty, pushed Professor Sun to sit in a corner of the hall, and told everyone to eat something to fill their stomachs, but strictly no open flames and no smoking yet, lest we fall for another "Guanshan Taibao" illusion.

To conserve lighting, we lit only two small fluorescent lamps in the dark hall and ate a few bites of compressed rations by their dim light before beginning our "triple interrogation" of Professor Sun.

Professor Sun remained calm. His hands were tied behind him as he sat on the floor, but he seemed strangely familiar with this forced questioning, showing no panic. Perhaps he had honed this skill during the Cultural Revolution. He never answered any of the questions I posed, instead asking if we had ever heard of the "Biscuit Song."

Fatty snapped, "What good is talking about biscuits at a time like this? If you don't confess your secrets, you're headed for death. Stop dreaming of biscuits and start coming clean about where the burial objects in the village are hidden!"

I knew, however, that Old Man Sun was referring to a set of hexagram songs composed by Liu Ji, the famed recluse of the Ming Dynasty. Liu Bowen was a master of Qimen divination and skilled in the principles of situational Feng Shui. Folk legends held that he possessed half-immortal qualities. Based on his calculations and derivations of trigrams, he concealed the results in verses resembling folk ballads—an obscure "language" hiding profound meaning far removed from the literal interpretation of the "Biscuit Song." It was something ordinary people could hardly imagine, usually requiring reference to the verses to glimpse the "secrets of heaven."

But this was merely folklore; whether the Biscuit Song was truly written by Liu Bowen was uncertain. I didn't know what Professor Sun hoped to achieve by mentioning it, and I was too tired to play his game. I demanded, "Whatever you have to say, spit it out directly. Stop trying to play tricks, or Fatty will lose control, and I won't be able to stop him."

Professor Sun replied, "Every event has a preceding cause. If you don't know the cause, how can you know the result? I merely want to tell you the true origin of the Guanshan Taibao. It is a story dating back several hundred years. Back then, the Guanshan Taibao were hermits dwelling between Bashan and the waters of Shu. If Liu Bowen, who authored the Biscuit Song, had not revealed the heavenly secrets, perhaps even to this day... no one would know the name Guanshan."