I had intended to summarize Man Niao Niao's account with the word "ribaldry" (ri bai), but the moment I recalled Ji Ye’s bizarre actions, which had actually recalled my "soul" to my body, that summary remained unspoken.

However, perhaps it was the reunification of "soul" and flesh that restored my sense of reality, because I began to entertain serious doubts about my prior experiences—was there truly such a thing as a soul in this world? Though my mind bitterly resisted the notion, my own direct experience left me speechless.

Although Tan Ping'er and I lacked the wings of a phoenix, the phrase "a spiritual connection is achieved with just a single thought" (xin you ling xi yi dian tong) was perfectly apt. I listened as she pressed Man Niao Niao: "How did you all know that we had fallen down here later on?"

"That, we owe to An Ge. After the Dao Shi Master finished his final ritual and no more 'Ri Gu Zi' incidents occurred, the mourners started drifting away to eat breakfast. An Ge then asked me why I hadn't seen you two, and that’s when I realized you weren't at the gravesite. I panicked, and when I asked the people nearby, no one had noticed where you had gone. Just as I was about to ask others, An Ge suddenly grabbed Xiang Yao Ge and asked if anything strange had happened earlier. Xiang Yao Ge’s face showed mixed relief and distress, and he said that the dragon beam had inexplicably collapsed once before…"

"That’s true," Tan Ping’er interjected.

"When Ji Ye heard the dragon beam had fallen, his face darkened. Without another word, he kowtowed several times before Old Man Xiang’s grave, burned a pile of joss paper, lit three sticks of incense, counted on his fingers a few times, and dragged me off toward those two paired fir trees… Oh, there’s one more thing I forgot to mention: from the moment he woke me up until now, An Ge has never spoken a proper sentence. Everything he says is sung in that strange, singsong tone. It made many people curious, but they didn’t dare ask. Even the Dao Shi Master looked at him with reverence."

"He’s been singing the whole time?" I found that utterly unbelievable.

"Yes. Including later when I begged him to increase the flames for me, he just hummed and sang that it wasn't the right time, that his current cultivation wasn't enough, and that he needed to find some kind of book…"

"A book? What book?"

"I don't know. The sound of his mumbling was very low; I couldn't make it out clearly."

"So, he’s still that sort of half-baked scholar, all noise and no substance?" I asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"You little rascal, how dare you talk about your Ji Ye like that? If it weren’t for him, how would I have found you?" Man Niao Niao glared, a flash of white light sparking in his eyes, his face set in an expression of absolute loyalty to his idol’s dignity. I stifled a laugh inwardly. In these times, devoted fans had nicknames like "Liang Fen" or "Yumi." Since Ji Ye is a Tujia Tima and goes by the single character 'Ren' (Man), what should Man Niao Niao, his fan, be called? Ren Fen? Ma Fen? — Heh, neither sounds the least bit elegant or refined.

"Did you run directly toward those two paired fir trees?" Tan Ping'er’s question undoubtedly amplified the mystery surrounding Ji Ye to a new peak.

"We did. Before we even reached the firs, we saw a huge pit. An Ge was singing that you were down there. I was skeptical about how certain he sounded, so I glanced around and saw a strange little pot lying on the ground…"

"The pot you mentioned—did it have a tiger-shaped handle?" I interrupted Man Niao Niao.

"Yes! At first, I thought it was some old woman’s chamber pot someone had dumped in the wilderness. But when I looked closer, I saw the opening was facing down. I wondered, how would one use this chamber pot? Seeing its unusual shape and hearing the crisp sound when I tapped it with a stone, I gradually realized it wasn't an ordinary chamber pot, and might be quite valuable…"

The more I listened, the more uncomfortable I became, and I couldn't help cutting off the rambling Man Niao Niao. "Uncle Niao, Grandfather Niao, I beg you, please stop calling it a 'pot' (guan guan)! And definitely stop calling it a chamber pot! There is no piece of furniture in this world worthy of such a title! It’s a Huniu Chunyu—it’s from the Han Dynasty!"

"So, it really is valuable?" Man Niao Niao’s voice rose, a glint sparking in his eyes.

"What do you think?"

"…" Man Niao Niao fell silent, his thoughts turning over something unknown.

"Where is that Huniu Chunyu now?" Tan Ping’er asked.

"Oh!" Man Niao Niao jolted as if waking from a dream. "While I was examining that... what was it? Oh, the Huniu Chunyu—An Ge had already gathered a few pieces of dry wood to make a torch and was trying to climb down the slope of the pit. Unexpectedly, thunder cracked, lightning flashed, and a downpour began. An Ge and I had only gotten halfway down when the bank above suddenly collapsed. The mud was already loose, but the heavy rain instantly turned it into a thick, soupy sludge, pressing down on us in a deluge. We slid down the mud like we were on a boat, and in the chaos, the Huniu Chunyu rolled off somewhere. Luckily, the bottom of the pit was a steep incline, and An Ge and I tumbled down like balls, narrowly avoiding being buried alive by the pursuing mud. Once we finally stopped, An Ge lit the torch, and we realized we had arrived at that long stone-stepped street. Seeing we weren’t seriously injured, we limped to the stone archway. An Ge reached into the mouth of the stone lion by the entrance, and the central gate opened. Inside, we saw Ping’er holding you, you little bastard, and crying…"

Man Niao Niao’s colorful Mandarin, a mix of local dialect and borrowed words, recounted the situation with thrilling drama. Tan Ping’er and I exchanged glances, speechless.

"That’s right, how did you two fall into this place? What is this place?" Man Niao Niao asked.

I had just begun to say, "Ah, this story is hard to tell in a few words…" when Tan Ping’er swiftly cut in, recounting everything to Man Niao Niao: how the dragon beam fell, how I discovered the burial mound, how an embroidered shoe appeared on the mound, how she triggered the broken stele causing the mound to collapse, how we both fell into the hole, and everything we saw and experienced inside. Man Niao Niao was clearly stunned after listening; the sound of his rhythmic pipe-sucking abruptly ceased.

"Then... how did Ying Ying pass out?" After a long silence, the sound of pipe-sucking resumed, interspersed with Man Niao Niao's trembling inquiry. Hearing Man Niao Niao use the phrase "passed out" (yun si), I was also mystified. Was I not dead then? What exactly was the meaning of my subsequent experiences and the body lying on the ground?

"This is my fault…" Tan Ping’er’s voice dropped. "When Ying Ying jumped down to save Hua’er, I was entirely focused on shining the light for him. Suddenly, I felt an intense sensation, as if someone very familiar and dear to me was calling my name from behind. I froze, placed the flashlight on the stone shoulder, and, compelled by an unknown force, jumped over the wall, following the sound based purely on feeling. Halfway there, I realized I hadn't actually heard anything, and just as I was about to turn back, the stilt house suddenly burst into light and noise—a cacophony that felt incredibly familiar. I forgot Ying Ying and Hua’er’s predicament and my feet involuntarily moved toward the stilt house. The moment I stepped onto the communal landing, before I could see who was making the commotion, the stilt house went dark and silent again. Only then did my senses clear slightly, and fear and worry welled up inside me. I felt my way back to the stone archway using memory and heard Hua’er barking. Startled by the sound, I fumbled along, tripped over something, and nearly fell. Taking a chance, I reached out and touched the scar on Ying Ying’s forehead, realizing that object was him…"

Tan Ping’er and Man Niao Niao exchanged narratives, leaving me no room to interject. Perhaps that was for the best; sometimes, listening helped clarify one's thoughts, achieving the effect of clearing away clouds to reveal the sun, or meticulously dissecting the threads of an issue. Still, hearing Tan Ping’er say, "That thing was Ying Ying," annoyed me slightly. Doesn't this girl ever consider grammatical structure or logical rhetoric when she speaks?

As expected, Man Niao Niao was quick on the uptake. The moment Tan Ping’er finished speaking, before my thought about her poor phrasing could fully form, he jumped in, "Did you climb over the wall to get in then?"

Tan Ping’er replied, "Yes. When I touched the object on the ground and realized it was Ying Ying, I initially thought he must have fainted from jumping off the wall or being startled by that strange, brittle snake. I was about to figure out how to wake him, but when I touched his forehead, it was cold as ice. Reaching lower, I found he had no breath whatsoever. That’s when I panicked. I started pressing on his chest with both hands and was surprised to find a patch of warmth in the center of his sternum. Mixed with my desperation was a sliver of relief, but after much effort, Ying Ying showed no response. Then…" Tan Ping’er paused slightly before continuing, "Then I tried to give him artificial respiration, but it couldn't bring him back to life. The warmth in his chest began to fade. I was so distraught and the space was so dark, so I just ended up holding him... and crying."