Once that foreign friend boarded the vessel, he slowly wiped the dark mud from his face, and only then did the group get a clear view of his true appearance. The young man was flushed and glowing, seemingly unaffected by the biting cold. Did this fellow not fear the cold? He looked quite young, perhaps around twenty. Such foreigners must mature early; graduating college and joining an expedition team so young—one could only guess how many women he’d already managed to charm.
The man immediately introduced himself: “Hi! My name is Michael Joseph Jackson. I am a member of the Tour Expedition team. I came with two professors for an archaeological dig. We encountered the Red Scarab in the river channel, and the two professors died covering my escape.”
Liu Dashao couldn't quite grasp his Mandarin. He only caught something about his name sounding like "Mai Ke Zi," but the details escaped him. Liu Dashao, preferring simplicity, decided to just call him Jackson.
Liu Dashao began, "Jackson…"
Before Liu Dashao could finish, Jackson interjected, “Jackson? Oh, you can’t remember my French name. You can use my Chinese name, Wu Sangui.”
Liu Dashao felt a surge of annoyance, thinking the young man deserved a beating for picking such a name. He waved his hand dismissively. “Forget it, forget it. I’ll just stick with Jackson. I really can’t bring myself to call you Wu Sangui.”
Jackson looked confused. “Why?”
These things couldn't be explained in a few words. Liu Dashao replied, “It’s hard to explain. You’ll have time to figure it out for yourself later.”
Seeing Liu Dashao wouldn't elaborate, Jackson didn't press further and moved to attend to his satchel.
He then noticed the bag nearby that the others had cut open. “My God, you managed to cut this bag open? What kind of substance is that powerful?”
Jackson’s Mandarin was truly abysmal; no one could make sense of his babbling, so they simply ignored him.
When Jackson realized no one was paying attention, he pulled out a vial of liquid and sprinkled it onto the bag. An acrid smell of mercury immediately filled the air, and where the liquid touched, a slit appeared in the material. It turned out this bag could only be dissolved by mercury.
Jackson fumbled inside the bag for a moment, then pulled out a packet of compressed biscuits and began eating.
By this time, everyone was quite hungry. Seeing Jackson retrieve biscuits from the bag, Fan Debiao hurried over and started helping himself.
A moment later, Fan Debiao pulled out several packs of compressed biscuits and tossed them near the others. Liu Dashao grabbed a biscuit and began devouring it fiercely.
“Whoa!” Fan Debiao shrieked, pulling out three guns from the bag. “This is good stuff!”
Liu Dashao examined the weapon—a double-barreled long gun, very similar to the kind used by hunters. However, the bore diameter was much larger. He asked Jackson what kind of gun it was.
Jackson explained that the captain of the Tour Expedition team had invented this weapon during an earlier archaeological dig in the forest because common firearms were useless against the numerous savage beasts. Furthermore, it used rifle ammunition, which explained the large muzzle.
Fan Debiao was ecstatic about possessing a firearm; he stopped eating the biscuits immediately and became engrossed in studying the gun.
Liu Dashao, while eating his biscuit, asked Jackson, “Weren’t you cold in the water? You certainly don't look like someone who’s been frozen.”
Jackson replied, “The water was indeed very cold. I stayed in it all night; I was so frozen I nearly met God. As my consciousness faded, I caught a scent. We Frenchmen are fond of perfume, so I resolved to die amidst fragrance, if I had to die. I tracked the scent to a cave. I used every ounce of strength to crawl inside and found it was filled with black mud that radiated a distinct warmth. So, I covered my entire body with it.”
Da Guoguo asked Jackson, “Few people know about this place. How did your group manage to locate this ancient tomb?”
Jackson answered, “We followed the instructions written in the bamboo scroll given to us by the Chairman.”
Saying this, he dug into the satchel again to show everyone.
Jackson rummaged through the bag for a while and produced a rolled-up bamboo slip, handing it to Da Guoguo. “Look, this is it.”
Liu Dashao was very surprised to see the bamboo slip and was naturally curious, urging Da Guoguo to explain its contents.
Da Guoguo looked at the slip but didn't explain immediately. Instead, he asked Jackson, “Do you know where your Chairman obtained this bamboo slip? Be specific.”
Jackson replied, “I don’t know much either. I only know our Chairman bought this bamboo book from a tomb robber while he was working as a missionary in China. The Chairman treasures this bamboo book more than his own life.”
Da Guoguo continued questioning, “If your Chairman values this slip more than his life, why would he give it to you to find this tomb?”
Jackson explained, “I’m not completely clear on that either. The Chairman discussed it with Professor Patton and Professor Andre during a meeting. I was just tagging along as an intern; I followed their instructions the whole way.”
Hearing Jackson’s account, it was clear he knew very little of the truth. At first, Liu Dashao suspected he was lying, but his demeanor seemed genuinely innocent, so he dismissed the thought.
Liu Dashao’s attention was now fixed entirely on the bamboo slip, and he once again pressed Da Guoguo to interpret its contents.
Da Guoguo said, “This was written by one of the survivors from that initial tomb-robbing team. It records the exact location of this ancient tomb.”
Liu Dashao felt a stir of excitement and quickly asked, “Does it mention the cause of death for the others?”
Da Guoguo replied, “This only details the tomb's location; it mentions nothing else.”
Liu Dashao pressed further, “What do you mean by that?”
Da Guoguo explained, “It says that after he escaped, he lost most of his memories. He only remembers that there is something important inside this tomb, and something terrifying as well. That is why he exerted all his strength to map out the tomb’s location, hoping someone might one day find that important object.”
This bamboo slip was utterly useless to the group, leading to a wave of disappointment. The mystery remained, compounded by the mention of this ‘important object.’ It seemed they would have their hands full once they entered the burial chamber, yet they couldn't suppress their excitement.
But as Liu Dashao considered how far the current situation had deviated from his original objective, anxiety began to mount.
Liu Dashao never hid his worries; they were written all over his face. Seeing his profound anxiety, Fan Debiao clapped him on the shoulder. “Brother, don't look so burdened. Pull yourself together, be a real man!”
Jackson, standing nearby, chimed in, “Yeah, don’t get discouraged, be a men!”
Fan Debiao immediately exploded upon hearing this. “Men? You egghead! How does our Dashao look like a men? Are you asking for a beating?!”
Fan Debiao spoke so fast that Jackson’s face became blank; he clearly hadn't understood the insult.
Da Guoguo scolded Fan Debiao, “He said men, meaning man. What do you mean, men? Look at your education.”
Fan Debiao hated being confused by English; truthfully, he was too self-conscious to confront it. He turned to Jackson and said, “Trying to confuse me with English, are you? In your country, learn to say ABCD. In my country, please speak Chinese. Understand?”
Jackson gave a silly laugh. “Heh heh, it sounds like singing.”
Fan Debiao retorted, “I don’t care whose song it is. Fatty Fan loves folk songs the most.” He then asked Jackson, “Do you know how to sing folk songs?”
Jackson only knew the superficial aspects of Chinese culture and had no idea what a folk song (shange) was, so he shook his head repeatedly. Jackson asked Fan Debiao, “What is a shange?”
Fan Debiao was a rough character himself, and after trying to explain for ages, he couldn't articulate it clearly, even ending up confusing folk songs with Peking Opera.
Liu Dashao felt both exasperated and amused; his mood lightened considerably. He interjected, “Fan Debiao, stop leading the man astray! If you spout nonsense here, and he goes back and tells his countrymen, those who don’t know will just let it go. But if he runs into someone who does know, and they start questioning him, those Frenchmen will categorize our China as uncivilized and lacking culture.”
When Liu Dashao said this, Fan Debiao felt his pride stung. He insisted he had to perform a folk song for everyone.
Fan Debiao’s singing was terrible, and Liu Dashao tried his best to stop him, but Jackson was very interested and insisted Fan Debiao sing a piece. Finding a rare enthusiast, Fan Debiao suddenly stood up, cleared his throat, and prepared to belt it out.
The sound was just reaching his throat when the wooden boat suddenly began to creak ominously—ge zhi, ge zhi. Before anyone could react, the boat instantly disintegrated into a wooden skeleton.
Considering the boat had served them faithfully for so long, it was remarkable it held together this far, especially since it was hastily constructed.
As the boat fell apart, all five men plunged into the water. Liu Dashao was familiar with the water now and had mentally prepared himself, but submerging into the current was more shocking than expected; the water was several degrees colder than before.
Liu Dashao couldn't endure the cold. Fan Debiao shrieked from the chill. The worst off was Da Guoguo; already injured, the icy water sent him into shock, and his eyes began to roll back. If they didn't act immediately, Da Guoguo would perish.
At that moment, Jackson shouted, “To the mud hole inside!” He immediately grabbed his satchel and led the way, swimming toward the stone gate.