As Qian Turtle submerged half its body the moment Man Niao Niao and I boarded, its head dipped underwater, seemingly cheering on its companion. Only when we finally managed to heave the rear of Kun Turtle out of the water did it raise its head again, gazing at us with eager expectation. Seeing its partner dropped back into the water, it grew anxious, splashing a few times before turning and ramming our Cai Lian boat so forcefully that it backed up, nearly yanking the vine still clutched in my hand into the water with us.

A sudden thought flashed across my mind, and I loudly instructed Qin Bing'er and Man Niao Niao to hold fast to the vine. It seemed Qian Turtle intended to lend us a hand; if we didn't exert ourselves now, when would we? Qin Bing'er and Man Niao Niao understood immediately, gripping the vine tightly and leaning back, pulling with every ounce of strength, like in a game of tug-of-war. Even Hua'er scrambled up to help, biting down on the vine and yanking backward. The sentience of Qian Turtle truly could not be underestimated; it tucked its head into its shell, paddled furiously, and shoved the boat with all its might... Gradually, more of Kun Turtle’s body emerged from the water. The three of us and the dog gritted our teeth and strained, and with the mighty assistance of Kun Turtle, with a deafening boom and a spray of water—Kun Turtle’s body was finally flipped over. The vines, which had been pulled taut as bowstrings, snapped in several places with sharp cracks. The three people, the dog, and the Zuo Dèng'er all tumbled onto the bow.

We quickly scrambled up to check on the two giant turtles, inseparable and dependent on each other. To our delight, we found them already frolicking together, churning up waves nearly ten feet high in the small pool, soaking the three of us and the dog until we were thoroughly drenched. Qin Bing'er clasped her hands together, muttered something under her breath, then rushed to my side and gave my face a hearty kiss—her joy was palpable. Man Niao Niao leaned his face close. "Hey, hey, half the moon belongs to him, and half belongs to me, Bing'er. You should treat us equally, right?"

Qin Bing'er, in high spirits, immediately retorted, "I'll give you five words!"

Man Niao Niao froze, his mouth hanging wide open, his eyes wider than his mouth, completely unprepared for Qin Bing'er to deploy the very 'commonplace language' he'd been using against him—wasn't this hoisting oneself up only to be cut down?

Having been thoroughly shut down, Man Niao Niao managed a wry smile and changed the subject. "We've gloriously completed the mission now, essentially achieved fame and fortune. What do we do next? Even though we're on this boat, we don't have any oars. Are we just supposed to wait here to die...?"

Before the words were out, the Cai Lian boat began to shake violently. I looked up and saw Qian Turtle bracing against Kun Turtle’s rear, while Kun Turtle’s head pushed against the bow, slowly moving the boat backward.

Man Niao Niao sighed, "One receives the kindness of a single drop of water and should repay it with a gushing spring. I never imagined these two great turtles would possess such spirit, knowing gratitude and repayment. Alas, alas!" He spoke while shaking his head in a manner suggesting refinement and composure. I secretly found it amusing. After humiliating Qin Bing'er just now, did he think a few bookish words could redeem his status?

"That's right!" Qin Bing'er chimed in. "Not only do they understand gratitude, but that Qian Turtle also knows how to look after its companion, knowing its legs have degenerated, pushing it forward... I'm so touched!" She finished with a lingering look at me, her gaze as deep as water.

"Alright, the grand task is accomplished, and now we even have help rowing. Let's check out the cabin!" I returned Qin Bing'er's deep look and said.

Man Niao Niao took the so-called Xuan Yi Du You Pearl from his hand, handling it with a cautious reverence one reserves for a newborn infant. I felt utterly contemptuous watching him—this fellow was pathologically obsessed with wealth. For some reason, I kept feeling that this object would ultimately never belong to us, a feeling later proven absolutely correct by the facts.

Man Niao Niao cradled the Xuan Yi Du You Pearl and shuffled up to the cabin door. He stared at it from top to bottom for a long time, apparently unable to locate the handle. He pushed, but the door wouldn't budge an inch. Man Niao Niao’s stubborn streak flared up; he lifted his leg and delivered a powerful kick to the door. Given his brute strength, the dark wooden door should not have resisted, but instead of shattering, there was a dull thud, followed by Man Niao Niao crying out "Ouch!" and stumbling backward several steps, hopping on one foot while clutching his shin. He nearly pitched into the water, only steadying himself because I reached out just in time; he still held the Xuan Yi Du You Pearl firmly.

No one noticed that at the very moment Man Niao Niao kicked the door, Hua'er sprang with a tiger-like leap onto Kun Turtle’s back.

Seeing Man Niao Niao suffer a setback, I grinned slyly, walked up to the cabin door, squatted down, and examined it closely. I discovered that the supposed door was a fake. The soot Man Niao Niao’s kick dislodged revealed the snow-white wood underneath and some scattered, mottled patterns. Upon closer inspection, I was horrified to see that these patterns were not depictions of birds, flowers, insects, or fish, but several vertical columns of symbols. These symbols were profoundly strange, somewhat resembling the lines on the palm of a human hand, with many looking distinctly like horseshoe prints... If not for the neat arrangement of symbols I had never seen before, I would have mistaken this false door for a tombstone.

Although I couldn't decipher what these winding glyphs meant, they felt eerily familiar. After racking my brain, I shouted in horror, "Blast it all, isn't this the legendary 'Palm Script'?"

"Palm Script? What’s Palm Script?" Qin Bing'er and Man Niao Niao asked in unison.

"I don't actually know what Palm Script is. Once, while browsing the internet for news, I accidentally saw a report from Chongqing about an ancient Tujia village where a strange book was discovered. That book was covered in these bizarre symbols. Because the symbols looked so much like the lines on a palm, experts named them 'Palm Script.' Some experts hypothesized that these symbols represent the most ancient script of the Tujia people, but that's just a guess. Their true origin and specific meaning are likely an eternal enigma."

"Didn't you say the Tujia people had no writing of their own?" Qin Bing'er questioned skeptically.

"That... the presence or absence of writing is just legend; no one can verify it clearly. Assuming they were indeed Tujia characters, they were likely abandoned after Qin Shi Huang unified the script."

"That's plausible," Qin Bing'er agreed with a nod.

This was merely speculation, but I harbored another question in my mind: on the plaque of the earthly Imperial City's stone archway, there were several characters constructed from components of Han characters that were not Han characters themselves. Now, here I found even more mysterious symbols. Considering the context of their appearance, these writings or symbols might indeed be the script used by early Tujia people—at least, our distant ancestors were not unfamiliar with them. Thinking about how the Tujia people passed down their history through generations via oral tradition and song, a massive question mark formed in my mind: from having a written language, to using Han character components to form words, and finally to having no script at all—did our ancestors face some external pressure or obstruction that caused their own crystallized wisdom to be submerged beneath the long river of history?

Of course, this was also speculation, and deciphering it would be no less difficult than solving the famous Goldbach Conjecture.

Whenever culture or literature came up, Man Niao Niao’s head would start to ache, and he showed clear impatience. "Damn it, why are you staring at these 'earth-worm-like' things, trying to figure them out? Hurry up and find a way to open this cabin. This cabin is built so sturdy; maybe there’s something valuable inside!" (Tǔ Shé'er: earthworm; Zhā Shi: sturdy/solid)

I hadn't been overly concerned about opening the cabin door. Whether it opened or not, I was content simply having a relatively safe place to shelter. As for where this boat would ultimately drift, that was beyond my control.

Propelled by the two giant turtles, the Cai Lian boat glided smoothly along the water, closely hemmed in by the sheer cliff walls. Shadows cast by the Xuan Yi Du You Pearl rushed towards us and were quickly left behind.

I pushed half-heartedly at the false door and stood up, pouting at Man Niao Niao. "This door can't be opened at all; give up that idea!"

Man Niao Niao walked to either side of the cabin, saw that it was flush with the gunwales, making it impossible to reach the stern, and started cursing under his breath. He retreated to the bow with a pūtā pūtā sound, got into position, ran a few steps towards the cabin, and launched himself, kicking the pavilion-like structure. With a resounding guāng dāng, the noise startled all four of us. After a moment, we looked up to see that the upper part of the four-cornered pavilion had slid back two feet from the cabin base, exposing a rectangular gap about five feet above the bottom. A chill, eerie wind rushed toward us.

Huh? Why did this cabin look like a coffin? As the cold wind subsided and my courage returned, that feeling immediately flooded my mind. "Could this be the legendary boat coffin?" I murmured to myself.

Without waiting for Qin Bing'er or Man Niao Niao to ask, I turned back and said, "When my grandfather was alive, he told me there were many forms of burial among the early Tujia people, one of which was the boat coffin burial. Judging by the color of this Cai Lian boat and this exposed gap, this vessel isn't actually a boat; it’s a coffin..."