Ji Ye retracted his gaze and instructed us, “You few go home and prepare. I’ll head back to gather some things as well. We’ll meet here tomorrow morning, then head into Anle Cave. Miss Tan, you come along too!” With that, he walked off toward his own home.

“Let’s go, back for breakfast,” I grumbled to Tan Ping’er. I was still flustered from her calling me a “liar,” and my voice felt hollow as I spoke, careful not to meet her eyes.

Tan Ping’er rolled her eyes and feigned annoyance. “Liar! You said my face was pretty, but all along you were hiding this secret in your belly… If Man Niao Niao hadn’t told me, were you planning to keep it from me forever? Do you think my face looked ugly last night?”

“I…”

Man Niao Niao, seeing me cornered, snickered quietly. Noticing my sharp glare, he quickly turned serious toward Tan Ping’er. “Ping’er, don’t blame him. If it hadn’t been for his blood… your face might still look like a split-open pomegranate rind.”

Tan Ping’er shot me a glance, then grabbed my arm. “Don’t be angry. Thank you for saving me. Did you bleed much from your finger? Does it still hurt?” Man Niao Niao jumped in quickly, smirking, “It’s fine. Just a few dozen drops, that’s all.” He deliberately emphasized the word “drops” while looking at me pointedly.

I instantly caught the double meaning in his words and was about to punch his arm when Tan Ping’er (jiāo chēn – coquettishly complained) to Man Niao Niao, “A few dozen drops? Why didn’t Uncle Niao offer a few dozen drops back then?” This silly girl hadn’t grasped the implication of Man Niao Niao’s words—that ‘one drop of essence is worth ten drops of blood.’ Sigh—!

“Can’t do it. The quality of my blood isn’t up to par,” Man Niao Niao said, barely stifling a laugh, looking perfectly serious.

“Hm? Not up to par? Why?” Tan Ping’er asked, frowning curiously. She had no idea Ji Ye used my blood for another, deeper reason; her expression was utterly innocent.

“Ask him,” Man Niao Niao said, his shoulders shaking as he pointed at me.

I glared fiercely at Man Niao Niao and spat out, “Scram! Stop latching onto my home for meals. Ping’er, you too. Why do you follow a ghost when you won’t follow a person leading you?” Tan Ping’er was still bewildered, but Man Niao Niao chuckled. “Can’t leave. Sister-in-law hasn’t finished making that braised pork belly from yesterday yet!”

What could one say to such a shameless rogue?

After returning home and eating breakfast, I began gathering supplies for entering the cave. Since I had no experience, I had no idea what to prepare and had to ask my father for help.

Father said, “The three treasures for entering a cave: the oil lamp, the red rope, and the machete—none of these can be omitted. The lamp illuminates and can test the air quality inside. The red rope is for climbing up and down, and it also wards off evil. The machete, of course, is for self-defense.” Hearing him speak so clearly, I quickly asked how to prepare these three items. Father didn't answer, instead heading behind the house to find several dry, withered Nanmu bamboo stalks. He sawed them into segments at the nodes, creating bamboo tubes about as thick as a small bowl and roughly a foot and a half long. Father then poured kerosene into the tubes, twisted several wicks from white cloth, wrapped the ends with thin aluminum or iron sheets, and placed them inside the kerosene-filled bamboo tubes. The open end of the bamboo tube was sealed with sticky Guanyin clay, leaving only the wick exposed.

Father made more than ten of these bamboo lamps. Next, he found some palm husks, carefully separating the fibers strand by strand, twisting them into a palm rope about a hundred meters long and as thick as a little finger. He then found several pieces of red cloth to tie onto the rope. The palm fiber was naturally a dark red, but binding it with the red cloth made it a true red rope. As for the machete, that was easy; every household locally owned one. The sheath for the machete was rather unique, called a Dao Bizi. It consisted of a semi-oval wooden board with a square wooden handle nailed to it, and a palm rope was attached to wear around the waist. When the machete wasn't in use, one simply slotted it into the Dao Bizi—convenient and simple.

Seeing my father expertly prepare these items, Tan Ping’er repeatedly praised them, saying they were both exquisite and durable.

Man Niao Niao chimed in from the side, “Ying Ying, do you need to prepare some black donkey hooves?” I was astonished. “Did you read Ghost Blows Out the Light too? —We already prepared the black donkey hooves!” Though secretly I thought, what on earth are we going to use black donkey hooves for? We aren't digging up tombs!

“Where are they?” Man Niao Niao looked around, searching everywhere. I bent down and patted his leg, teasing him, “Aren’t these right here? When needed, no need to chop them off—just stuff one straight into the mouth of that so-called Zongzi!” Man Niao Niao shot me a harsh look and stopped talking.

To take every precaution, I got the bamboo bow and arrows my father used for hunting wild rabbits back then. Although these were made of bamboo, they should be more than sufficient to handle general dangers.

I arranged for someone from town to bring back several powerful flashlights and batteries, and I switched my glasses for contact lenses. Once all preparations were complete, I suddenly remembered Tan Ping’er needed alcohol at any moment. But what to carry it in? After muttering to myself for a long time, I had a brilliant flash of inspiration—a superb item…

Time passed quickly; a whole day vanished in a blink.

The next morning, Man Niao Niao, Tan Ping’er, and I were fully geared up, carrying our supplies, waiting for Ji Ye at the rendezvous point. Seeing Anle Cave gaping before us like a giant mouth, the three of us felt both nervous and excited.

The weather that day was exceptionally fine. Misty vapors drifted through the valley. Some child must have let their cattle roam in the valley, as the clear ringing of cowbells sounded especially melodious; a crimson sun rose from behind the mountains at the horizon, its light making the scrub trees hung with dew sparkle brilliantly. That soul-refreshing swath of green looked so dense it seemed ready to burst through the skin of the mountain and spill onto the ground.

Witnessing this breathtaking beauty swept away all the worries in my heart, replaced by a surge of boldness. Facing the rising sun, a nonsensical limerick spilled from my lips: “Looks like an egg yolk from afar, perched upon the mountain bar. Reach out to grasp it tight, turns out it’s just a cheat of light.” Man Niao Niao burst into laughter and bellowed out a local Tujia folk song in his rough voice: “My dear girl lives in a stilt house, oh hey, your loving brother pleads below, oh hey. Why are you pleading, brother dear? Brother wants to sleep with you up above, oh hey…” Hearing this, Tan Ping’er’s face flushed crimson, and she covered her mouth to stifle a smile; her delicate face reflected the red sun, looking incomparably beautiful. Looking at Tan Ping’er’s face, my resolve only hardened. For the sake of that single smile from this beauty, for removing that hideous green map from her back, I would willingly enter Anle Cave even if it meant certain death.

Shortly after, Ji Ye arrived, carrying a large bamboo basket on his back. The basket looked heavy, covered with a piece of black cloth over the opening; no one knew what provisions he had stored inside.

Once the four of us were organized, we followed the barely visible path choked with weeds and thorns up to the mouth of Anle Cave. Standing at the entrance and looking at the three characters “” (Anle Cave) again, I realized the lettering was enormous—each character was nearly as tall as a person, with sharp strokes and rigorous structure. Weeds and clumps of thorny pears grew within the lines of the characters. When the wind blew, the weeds nodded their heads, and the pink petals of the thorny pears drifted down onto our faces, greeting us with a cloud of floral scent.

I stood beneath those large characters I usually paid no mind to, gazing up for a long time, and for the first time, a question arose: who carved these ancient seal script characters, and when? “Uncle An, who carved these, and when?” Tan Ping’er clearly shared the same thought.

“That… I don’t know either. They’ve been here since I can remember. Many of the old folks say these characters have been here for ages; no one knows exactly who carved them or when…”

We sighed briefly, rounded the stone wall, and stood at the entrance, surveying the scene inside the cave. Beyond the entrance was an exceptionally vast hall, shaped overall like a tilted tea shell, with our current position being near the shell’s mouth. Downhill lay a long slope covered in clumps of waist-high silver grass, interspersed with patches of low bamboo shoots. A faint path, hidden by vegetation, snaked downward toward the depths of the hall. Looking up at the ceiling, I noticed a large skylight on the left side, through which bright sunlight shot down, creating a multi-colored beam that slanted into the interior. A few brightly colored butterflies and dragonflies flitted through the light beam, stirring up billows of faint mist. Many huge stalactites hung from the ceiling; water drops from the dripping magma landed on the ground with a clear, distant tick-tock. The slope was dotted with funnel-shaped mud pits, which from a distance resembled military sand tables. The air was damp and fresh, lacking the gloomy atmosphere common in caves; instead, a faint floral scent drifted about. Where the sunlight couldn’t reach, it was extremely dim; gazing into the distance, the scenery hidden deep within was visible only in rough outline.

“Ping’er, don’t be afraid. Ji Ye is here. He’s crossed more bridges than we’ve walked, and eaten more salt than we’ve eaten rice…” Seeing Tan Ping’er’s expression was extremely uneasy, I quickly tried to comfort her. But these words were less about soothing Tan Ping’er and more about boosting my own courage.

“This place is called Han Yun Ku—the Wailing Cloud Grotto!” Ji Ye said.

“Why is it called Han Yun Ku?” Tan Ping’er’s complexion recovered slightly, and she asked curiously.

“That’s because if you shout in this hall, the entire cavern quickly fills with white mist, and you’ll hear the sound of horse hooves!”

“Really?”

“Don’t believe me? Try it!”

Man Niao Niao couldn’t wait. He adopted a stance, cupped his hands around his mouth, and roared toward the hall: “Oh-hoh!” The sound was booming, striking the stone walls and rebounding with a buzzing clamor. As soon as Man Niao Niao’s cry faded, with a whoosh, a large swarm of rock rats (bats) flew out from the depths of the grotto. Squeaking wildly, they clustered on the cave walls near us, hanging upside down, their red eyes flashing coldly as they glared at us in anger.

We were still wondering when suddenly we noticed masses of white mist slowly billowing out from where the rock rats had flown, quickly enveloping Han Yun Ku until it was a vast expanse of white. A few rock rats zipped through the white fog, causing the mist to shift and billow erratically, making the slanted beam of sunlight appear even clearer and brighter.

“Listen, don’t you hear the sound of hooves?” Ji Ye asked us, holding a hand to his ear.

We listened intently and were instantly stunned motionless. As the white mist continued to pour out, the faint sound of de-de truly began to emanate from the depths of Han Yun Ku. The sound was exactly like a fine horse galloping quickly, its hooves striking the bluestone, crisp and pleasing to the ear.

The three young men could hardly believe their eyes and ears, left speechless by the strange phenomenon of Han Yun Ku. They inwardly felt bewildered; this was just after entering the cave, and such oddities were already appearing. Who knew what even more bizarre and uncanny things lay deeper inside?

Man Niao Niao, being a coarse fellow, was not satisfied and prepared to shout again, but Ji Ye quickly stopped him. “Stop shouting. If you shout again, who knows when this mist will disperse, which will cause trouble for us entering the cave!” Only then did Man Niao Niao shut his mouth and stop his howling.

“Ji Ye, what exactly is going on here?” I asked him.

“This isn’t mysterious when you know the reason. I read about it in books; it seems that because the cave is vast and hollow, sound vibrations in certain areas cause air movement, bringing out the hot air inside. When this hot air meets the cooler outside air, the white mist forms. And that sound of hooves might be caused by a water pool resonating with external sounds, but the sound produced after resonance just happens to sound like horse hooves. Such phenomena exist in many caves; it’s nothing strange, you simply lack experience and don’t know about it. My father went deep into Anle Cave with my maternal grandfather when he was very young to collect saltpeter mud and make gunpowder. He said he shouted countless times, which is how I know the origin of Han Yun Ku.”

“Your father’s generation made gunpowder in there?” I asked in shock. Wasn’t Anle Cave rumored to be extremely dangerous and eerie? Did they not value their lives?

“Yes! But my father said he was young then, and he basically has no memory of the cave’s interior conditions. Not only did my father go in, but your maternal grandfather followed your great-grandfather inside. Your great-grandfather was a major laborer when he was young! They say there’s a place deep in Anle Cave called Saltpeter Cave!”

“This… why have I never heard my grandfather mention it?” To ensure Tan Ping’er understood, I mostly spoke Mandarin when she was present. Although my delivery was somewhat halting, it was still much better than Man Niao Niao’s attempt at Mandarin with a local accent.

“He probably had his reservations. For hot-headed youngsters like you, hearing such things, how could you not want to test the waters and investigate for yourselves? Otherwise, Man Niao Niao wouldn't have ended up experiencing that 'spirit possession' incident.”

“An… Brother An, you must look out for me…” Man Niao Niao’s face turned ashen upon hearing the words ‘spirit possession.’ I also hesitated slightly. It seemed our entry into the cave would certainly not be a ‘leisurely stroll.’ If we really lost our lives inside, wouldn’t that be ridiculously unfair? To risk our lives for a memorial tablet from a dream—even death would make people laugh us out of the village.

“Look at you, fearing the wolf in front and the tiger behind. We’ve already come this far; do you intend to retreat now?” Ji Ye saw my spirit flagging and had already guessed my thoughts, glancing at me with dissatisfaction, his tone carrying a hint of reproach.

“Exactly. Brother An, I think this fellow is just ‘a rooster’s first droppings are hard’ (all talk, no follow-through). Yesterday he beat his chest and spoke grandly, saying things like ‘If I die, my spirit soars to heaven; if I live, I live ten thousand years’—and now he’s turned into that… thing whose surname is Wu and given name is Gui, hasn’t he? Showing his true colors now! I say, Brother An, why would you let such a fat-headed, big-bellied creature go on an adventure with the two of us? Isn’t this forcing a duck onto a perch?” Man Niao Niao’s barbed words infuriated me to the point of dizziness; I wished I could sew his relentless mouth shut with a shoelace needle. Wasn’t he deliberately trying to make me lose face in front of Tan Ping’er? Moreover, you crow, how dare you turn the tables? Just now, you were the one showing your weak, shaky side!

“Alright, the crow shouldn’t laugh at the pig’s black hair. Ying Ying’s worry is valid; after all, we don’t know what dangers we might encounter inside. As the saying goes, ‘The old do not cross water, the young do not enter caves’—there is some truth to that. However, I did some divination last night, and while there will be dangers today, it shouldn’t cost us our lives.” Ji Ye stepped in as a mediator, seeing the tension escalating between Man Niao Niao and me.

“Uncle An, you can do divination too?”

“Heh heh, I know a bit!”

“He’s our village’s famous divine calculator, and that’s not all; he’s probably a master of Xishu (shamanic arts) as well,” Man Niao Niao praised Ji Ye lavishly.

“What is Xishu?” Tan Ping’er was even more curious. I was just about to repeat what Ji Ye had told me about Xishu the previous night, but as the words reached my lips, I held back, glancing at Ji Ye without speaking, hoping to learn more about Xishu from him. I had a vague feeling that Ji Ye knew far more about Xishu than his claim of being merely ‘superficially knowledgeable.’

Ji Ye gave me a meaningful look and said flatly, “ Xishu is similar to witchcraft. Someone once said that Wu culture is the vessel for Tujia culture, and the essence of Tujia culture is Wu culture. This is related to the geographical environment and human atmosphere where the Tujia ancestors were situated. Many people derive their understanding of Xishu or witchcraft from historically documented materials that have undergone artistic processing, and without specialized treatises on ancient shamanism, they hold certain misconceptions about witchcraft or Xishu. In reality, Xishu or witchcraft was a form of spiritual reliance developed by our ancestors in ancient times when science and culture were underdeveloped—a hope to communicate with spirits, ward off ghosts and banish evil, and alleviate suffering, thereby fostering a worshipful psychology toward ghosts and deities. The methods used by ancient Xishi (shamans) or witches did indeed appear mysterious in certain aspects, but these methods or approaches cannot be simply categorized as superstition, because science is developing, and times are moving forward. There are still many phenomena in this world that science cannot explain. As human history progresses, certain mysterious events might one day become perfectly ordinary. What we can do is personally explore the nature of these mysterious events.”

I listened, utterly dumbfounded. I never expected this 'Second Brother' farmer, who only had an elementary school education, to utter words so profound and philosophical. They were far more pleasant to hear than what some ‘experts’ said—simple, easy to understand, and grounded in reality. And for the first time, I developed a strong interest in our own Tujia culture.

“As the saying goes, grinding a spear before battle ensures it won’t be blunt. I will tell you some precautions as we walk. Be careful; a thousand years of caution won’t spoil a voyage. I hope that if you encounter things you cannot understand, you won’t panic, but remain composed,” Ji Ye said earnestly.

Things I couldn’t understand? Wouldn't that mean seeing ghosts? That would certainly be too much for Man Niao Niao to handle. As for me, apart from snakes, I wasn’t afraid of much else. —Snake? The word flashed into my mind, and a chill ran through my body, my upper and lower teeth chattering together. “Ji Ye, will we encounter the giant python from my dream in Anle Cave?”

Ji Ye froze. “This… I can’t say for sure. We’ll take things as they come!” Take things as they come? He says that so easily!

“Alright, whether you stretch your head out or pull it back, it’s still a cut. Stop hesitating. Look, the mist in Han Yun Ku has almost dispersed. Let’s hurry inside. Ying Ying, use your flashlight to illuminate that pitch-black area,” Ji Ye instructed me.