The Scholar Jia chased for a long while, catching only a glimpse of the two rats vanishing with a whoosh. When he finally reached the spot, he found himself surrounded by small, man-high mounds of stone. These small hills were carved everywhere with images of wild beasts. He looked again for the two great rats, but they were gone without a trace. Only beneath a massive stone engraved with a depiction of eight rats did a gaping black hole suddenly appear.

Scholar Jia immediately surmised that the two giant rats must have slipped into this hole. He decided it wasn't too late to return, gather his brothers, and deal with them then. He marked the location and immediately turned back to find his five companions. Not long after setting off, he saw the five men approaching listlessly, searching the area.

"All five of us thought those two rats had eaten you, so we searched frantically in every direction. And here you are, laughing!" Hu Hansan, burdened by his girth, was already panting, breathless, hands braced on his knees, bent over.

"Heh heh, if they had eaten me, it would have been far tastier than eating Tang Monk's flesh!" Scholar Jia joked.

"Your flesh might not compare to Tang Monk's, but it could give a dried corpse a run for its money—at least it’s fresh and tender!" Bi Sazhu grinned maliciously.

"I’ve found where those two big rats are hiding. Since we've met up, let's go straight for the central lair and wipe out their nest! We'll capture them and see what kind of skills these corpse-eating rats possess!" Scholar Jia was suddenly fired up, forgetting the main mission for coming to the desert. He was determined to confront these two giant rats.

Among the five, a serious division of opinion suddenly arose. Some agreed out of sheer curiosity, while others disagreed, arguing that since they were in the desert to rob tombs (daodou), why were they messing around with a rat hole? Finally, after Scholar Jia’s persuasion, their minds were unified: they would dig!

Initially, Bi Sazhu suggested gathering some firewood and smoking the rats out with a big fire. Scholar Jia disagreed, reasoning that these two rats might have become spirits (chengjing) and there was surely treasure inside the hole. A fire would be easy, but burning up potential treasures would be a pity!

The other five were skeptical but cautiously began digging along the edge of the rat hole. The entrance grew larger and larger, big enough for a person to crawl into. To prevent the two rats from suddenly darting out and biting them, the six ultimately decided: four would go in, and two would stay outside. This was partly to stop the rats from escaping and partly to watch out for any other companions who might show up while they were inside.

Men in the tomb-robbing trade were generally very brave, but after witnessing the scene of the rats feeding on the dried corpse, the courage of these six suddenly dwindled. No one wanted to go in. Since the hole was already dug, retreating now was not an option. In the end, the six resorted to drawing straws to decide: six small sticks, two long ones and four short ones. Whoever drew a short stick had to go down; the two who drew the long ones would stay outside as lookouts.

Scholar Jia declared, "I don't care; you draw first. Whoever is left with the last one is mine." As it turned out, Hu Hansan drew a long one. He was instantly overjoyed! The other four drew their sticks in sequence, and sure enough, the unfortunate brothers drew the hard lot: all four drew the same kind—the short ones! The remaining stick, naturally, was the long one. Scholar Jia announced, "Fair, isn't it? You all saw it; I was the last one to draw. Don't be scared, grip your weapons tightly! What sort of scene haven't we witnessed? Don't let two big rats scare you into wetting your pants!"

Bi Sazhu snorted, saying, "At worst, we die. Who said I was scared?" Bi Sazhu was the textbook definition of reckless bravery. Back in the day, he used to go out specifically to catch scorpions at night. He lifted a pile of jumbled rocks, shone his flashlight in, and discovered, to his shock, a corpse lying there, looking like it hadn't been dead long. While the others fled screaming for their fathers and mothers, only Bi Sazhu remained unafraid. He caught every scorpion crawling on the dead body. When he weighed them later, they totaled more than three liang (ounces). This proved the saying: Wealth is reserved for the courageous!

Hearing Bi Sazhu’s declaration gave the others some measure of relief.

Among the four who were going in, there was one named Zhang Shusheng. Because his surname was Zhang, he always claimed the ancient calligrapher Zhang Xu as his ancestor. Zhang Xu was a renowned ancient master of calligraphy, so Zhang Shusheng resolved to be a worthy descendant of the Zhang family. When he had nothing else to do, he would grab a stick and wildly practice his brushwork on the ground. However, after practicing for several years, he still couldn't write his own name correctly. At first, Zhang Shusheng was unconvinced and continued his solitary practice. But after practicing for over half a year, he thought he had achieved great success, his writing swirling with vigor (longfei fengwu), making him very proud. He imagined he had attained immortality and set up a stall in the marketplace to write letters and sell calligraphy for others.

The result was predictable: not a single character was sold, and his stall was taken down.

Losing his source of income was akin to slow suicide.

Men fear being cornered the most; once forced, even a scholar can turn into a wolf.

Life isn't always unlucky. It was at this point that he encountered Bi Sazhu. Logically, the two brothers shared a fateful connection. That day, Bi Sazhu happened to need a letter written to send home, as he himself couldn't write. Having heard about Zhang Shusheng, he went to the marketplace to find him. He searched three times but couldn't locate him. Upon asking around, he learned Zhang Shusheng had already changed professions.

Regardless of the change in career, the letter still needed writing; his family was waiting for a reply.

After inquiring extensively, Bi Sazhu managed to find Zhang Shusheng’s home. The scene that followed caught Bi Sazhu completely off guard: upon hearing Bi Sazhu’s purpose, Zhang Shusheng’s eyes suddenly skewed sideways, and he collapsed motionless. The family members rushed to pinch his renzhong (philtrum point), and when that failed, they had no choice but to douse him with cold water. He finally regained consciousness. Upon seeing Bi Sazhu again, he burst into tears, weeping for a long time before he could finally be consoled.

Once he stopped crying, Bi Sazhu asked him a simple question: "Why were you crying?"

It was actually a rather foolish question. Crying generally falls into three categories: crying from joy, crying from sorrow, or the last type—crying simply because one feels like it.

When Zhang Shusheng heard this, his mouth stretched into a grin, ready to cry again.

But in the end, he didn't cry.

"Excitement! I'm so excited! To meet a soulmate like you today—my life hasn't been lived in vain!" Zhang Shusheng managed to say this much.

This remark left Bi Sazhu stunned for a long time.

The next sentence made Bi Sazhu fully grasp Zhang Shusheng’s meaning: For six months, ever since he started setting up his stall in the market to sell calligraphy, not a single person had approached him. They would gather around, mock him, but now, finally, someone genuinely needed him to write something.

The following sentence surprised Bi Sazhu even more: "Today, I won't charge you a single coin; I will serve you completely!"