Following Ma Xiong's lead, they discovered that the four hollows of the skull were actually shimmering with something, sparkling brightly, just like human eyes.

The Fatty hastily asked, "What is that, and why is it hiding inside the skull?"

Lu Zong let out a questioning 'Yi' sound, then hung his head, pondering, trying to scour his mind for any information about such things. He felt that after so many years of university, surely he couldn't be completely ignorant. Seeing the Fatty, who couldn't read a dozen words, yet knew so much, he wondered if his education had been entirely in vain.

He was unwilling to accept it, but ultimately realized reluctance was futile, for he found his mind utterly blank concerning these things buried underground. The only thing that had ever shone brightly and still flickered in his memory was that desiccated corpse known as the "Beauty of Loulan."

He asked the Fatty dejectedly, "Fatty, what in the world are those things? They look like they have a life of their own, moving about."

The Fatty's voice trembled, "I don't know, really. Those things are clinging to the head, weaving in and out of the eyes and nostrils and mouth. It looks as if the skull itself is moving. Do you think it’s trying to signal something to us?"

Ma Xiong observed them, pondered for a moment, then said, "Could it be hinting that there are jewels there?"

Lu Zong burst out laughing. "At a time like this, you're still thinking about your jewels! I'm telling you, if we are fortunate enough to get out of here, these things must be turned over to the state; we cannot take anything with us. If you must have some kind of reward, you can apply for a grant or subsidy; that alone would be enough to support you for more than ten years."

Ma Xiong pouted. "Forget it, I care little for that money. My money is rusting away at home. I can't be bothered with these things."

The Fatty, however, seemed much stingier than Ma Xiong. He clung to Lu Zong, saying, "How can that be? I risked my life to find this treasure; how can I hand everything over to the state without getting a single cent? Lu Zong, let’s be frank: we aren't really on the same side. You can continue studying your antiques, and I'll continue robbing my tombs. Whatever I can take is mine; it's what I deserve. If you think that artifact harms national interests, you can ask me not to destroy those treasures, and I won't intentionally damage them. You know, we make our living by risking these lives, barely managing to eat by keeping our heads tied to our belts. What else do you want to exploit from us?"

Lu Zong looked at the Fatty's serious expression and knew the Fatty meant business this time. Still, he didn't want the state's possessions stolen by grave robbers, so he persuaded the Fatty, "Fatty, what you're saying makes no sense. These things were accumulated through the ancient emperors exploiting the common people. Burying them here is a spiritual treasure for the nation, a symbol of our country's brilliant culture. We can't destroy these priceless items for personal gain."

The Fatty appeared somewhat angry. "Lu Zong, I respect you as an archaeologist, so I won't beat you. If Ma Xiong had said that, I would have certainly given him a beating. You’ve read so many books, yet you don't know that the glorious ancient culture was built on the flesh and blood of peasants? These things were taken from the people, so is it wrong to use them for the people now? This is the current society: the bold eat well, and the timid starve. We risked so much; we deserve this reward."

Seeing the Fatty getting visibly agitated, Ma Xiong, fearing an internal conflict, quickly changed the subject. "Stop talking, look at those skulls—those things are actually starting to fall down slowly."

The Fatty and Lu Zong immediately looked toward the skulls, their mouths agape, unable to close them for a long time. They saw the entities living inside the skulls begin to drop like rain, hitting the ground with soft pata-pata sounds. From a distance, it looked as if a shower of flesh was falling.

The Fatty and Lu Zong quieted down. Besides the pata-pata sounds from ahead, another sound seemed to permeate the area. They listened intently, not daring to breathe loudly.

"Hiss, hiss..."

"Snakes!" Lu Zong exclaimed, crying out. He had been terrified of snakes since childhood. Having already encountered one snake upfront was disgusting and frightening enough; now facing another one was utterly unbearable.

He fearfully took a few steps back, then asked Ma Xiong, "Ma Xiong, what should we do now? It’s obvious those snakes are coming for us."

The Fatty's voice also trembled noticeably. He looked ahead for a while, then said, "Look quickly! These snakes are exactly the same as the one we saw before, just smaller. Could they be the offspring of that big snake? It seems we've run into real trouble this time. I wonder how filial these snake-children are."

Ma Xiong tried to boost morale by joking, "Being eaten by these snakes wouldn't be so bad; at least it would fulfill some level of life's meaning."

Lu Zong sensed a deeper meaning in his words, perhaps an indication that he had a solution. In his haste, he asked, "Ma Xiong, have you found a way to solve this? What exactly did you mean by that?"

Ma Xiong cleared his throat, then feigned profundity. He spat on the ground, rubbed his hands, exhaled a breath, and finally looked steadily at the surging snakes. "I haven't thought of a solution yet. It’s just that in a sudden moment, I've seen through the vanity of the world. If our deaths can prove these snakes are filial, isn't that also a form of liberation?"

Lu Zong angrily cursed, "Go to hell," and hastily stumbled backward.

These few steps brought Lu Zong directly onto Ganda. He quickly pulled his foot back and apologized, "Ganda, sorry, I didn't see you there..."

But Ganda remained motionless, as if he had fallen asleep.

Lu Zong suddenly seemed to realize something, shaking Ganda's arm and asking urgently, "Ganda, wake up! What's wrong with you?"

But Ganda didn't seem to hear, remaining utterly still. Ma Xiong and the Fatty were also drawn over by Lu Zong's shout. Seeing the motionless Ganda, the Fatty reached out and felt his wrist, then remained silent for thirty seconds before saying painfully, "Ganda is dead."

Lu Zong froze upon hearing this; Ma Xiong also froze. They silently stared at the Fatty, feeling utterly bewildered. Startled by their expressions, and seeing the stock-still Ganda, the Fatty grew panicked and asked, "Lu Zong, Ma Xiong, what's wrong with you two? Are you controlled by Ganda’s ghost? Possessed? Or cursed?"

Ma Xiong quickly shook his head. "Are you sure? Are you certain Ganda's heartbeat has stopped?"

The Fatty stated with absolute certainty, "Yes, his arm is cold, completely devoid of warmth, withered like a blue branch. How could I possibly feel a pulse?"

Lu Zong and Ma Xiong exchanged a look, then said in an eerie, singsong voice, "How is that possible? Why can we feel a pulse beating here?"

The Fatty was startled by Lu Zong's words, rushed over, and reached out to feel again. Sure enough, he detected a heartbeat. He stared at his own arm in disbelief, then reached out again.

But to his amazement, he felt a pulse once more. What was happening? He was utterly confused. He was certain that when he checked the pulse before, the heartbeat had indeed stopped, there was no movement at all, and even the skin was cold. But now, as he felt it, he perceived a spreading warmth.

He looked at Ma Xiong and said, "No, there must be something inside..." Before he could finish, he felt a pair of hands tightly gripping his wrist. Thinking it was Ma Xiong, he hastily pulled his hands free, stood up, and said, "Stop messing around, we need to leave quickly. Since Ganda has a pulse, we should wake him up, and we all need to get out of here fast."

But Lu Zong and Ma Xiong looked at the Fatty again with curiosity, still appearing incredulous.

The Fatty felt puzzled and urgently asked, "You two gentlemen, what's gotten into you? Let’s leave quickly. Let’s wake Ganda up; he’s not dead."

Lu Zong asked again, strangely, "Fatty, did you really feel a pulse that time?"

The Fatty looked at them, a half-laughing, half-crying expression on his face. "What, you can't feel a pulse this time?"

Ma Xiong and Lu Zong nodded, looking at the Fatty, who then froze, before looking back at them.

Ma Xiong pondered for a moment, then walked over and touched Ganda's arm, shaking his head—it seemed he hadn't felt a pulse. Then he moved his hand forward and frowned deeply. "There is a pulse here..."

He stopped before finishing his sentence, and his hand began to trace Ganda's arm as he muttered, "That's not right; Ganda's pulse seems to be moving... No, this isn't a pulse; it feels like something is wriggling inside his blood vessel."

As he spoke, his hand reached the center of Ganda’s palm, and his brow furrowed. "Strange, that thing has stopped moving."

Immediately afterward, Ma Xiong's scream rang out. Panting heavily, he looked at Lu Zong and roared, "Quick, quick, save me!"

Lu Zong and the Fatty panicked. Following the direction of Ma Xiong's hand, they realized Ganda’s hand had closed at some point, gripping Ma Xiong’s hand tightly within it. Ma Xiong was like a small wild animal completely stripped of resistance; he couldn't fight back at all. Considering that Lu Zong was a martial artist whose strength surpassed that of ordinary men, the fact that he couldn't exert any force here demonstrated the immense power Ganda possessed.

The Fatty bent down, grabbed Ma Xiong's arm, and said, "Brother, hold on for a moment. Your buddy here will pull you out. It might hurt a bit, but it'll be over soon."

Ma Xiong was gasping in pain and now felt on the verge of suffocation, saying weakly, "Hurry the hell up! Can't you see I'm about to collapse?"