The Fatty hadn't understood and asked, "What isn't human? What isn't human? If it’s not human, is it a monster then?"

I said, "That’s not what I meant. I was just saying that. We’ve been together for almost a month, living side-by-side; don't we know what kind of person everyone is? This child prophet is just spouting nonsense. People in ancient times were ignorant and backward; we’ve seen everything. How can we take these bizarre, scribbled-like figures seriously?"

Though I said that aloud, that wasn’t what I thought. I needed to be extremely cautious now. So many things in this world are utterly unpredictable. Whether this ancient prophecy of the prophet applies to the few of us, hell only knows. Thinking this, I reached for a black donkey's hoof, just in case.

I asked Shirley Yang again, "Did you misread it? There were originally five human figures drawn. Perhaps part of it has peeled away due to the age, leaving only four? Is that possible?"

Shirley Yang pointed to the carvings on the stone sarcophagus for us to see. "This stone sarcophagus is relatively well-preserved, with no signs of peeling. It’s clearly four people. Look, the symbol representing a person is very simple: a circle on top for the head, and a few thin lines for the body and limbs. Isn't that exactly four people?"

I looked closely. It was just as Shirley Yang said. She then made me look at the previous few pictures carved on the stone sarcophagus. These patterns were incredibly simple, clear enough even for me to grasp immediately. The first picture showed a child pointing at the sky, while many people on the ground were scattering and hiding. Those hiding people were probably ordinary civilians or something similar.

The second and third pictures respectively depicted a whirlwind blowing down quite a few houses. The people who had previously hidden had safely weathered the natural disaster. They were gathered around the child, worshipping him, suggesting this child could foretell calamities and disasters.

The fourth picture on the stone sarcophagus showed the child standing next to two adults, with an old man kneeling on the ground. The lines depicting these figures were simplified to the extreme. The old man was represented merely by a few strokes drawn as a beard beneath the circular head. Although the composition was simple, it made the meaning easier to understand.

The two adults in the picture were clearly much taller than ordinary people, and the carving work on them was much more delicate, not as rough as that for the common folk. These two people might be the ancient sages spoken of in legend. The old man kneeling on the ground was clearly their attendant; the remains of the old man in this stone chamber probably belonged to him.

It seemed Shirley Yang was completely correct: the owner of this stone sarcophagus was a young child with the gift of prophecy. I followed the sequence, looking at one stone carving after another, all depicting the achievements of this little prognosticator.

When I saw the last one, a chill truly ran down my spine. In this stone carving, the old man and the youth were sitting beside the stone sarcophagus, while four figures stood inside the tomb chamber. The figures of these four people were as ordinary as could be, simple to the extreme. Whether they were tall, short, fat, thin, male or female, young or old, was impossible to discern. One of these four figures was in the act of opening the stone sarcophagus.

This was the final stone carving on the sarcophagus; there were no more beyond it. What secret was hidden inside this stone box? Most importantly, the sarcophagus showed no signs of having been opened; the cowhide lacquer seal was still intact.

I turned back to look at the other four people. Shirley Yang was supporting the dazed and giggling Professor Chen, Ye Yixin had fainted, her chest rising and falling rapidly. There was no medicine to treat her, and Fatty sat on the ground, shaking his head helplessly as he watched her.

That's right, there were definitely five of us. If this prophecy was truly accurate, why were there only four figures drawn when there were clearly five of us? My mind spun rapidly, running through every possible scenario, but I couldn't grasp a single thread of it.

Could it be that one among the five of us truly wasn't human, but controlled by a ghost or demon? Or, as Fatty suggested, was Shirley Yang the reincarnation of the Queen of Jingjue? I considered these ideas utterly baseless and ridiculous; I didn't believe in reincarnation at all.

So, did the discrepancy lie in this ancient prophecy itself? I asked Shirley Yang what dynasty this prophet or sage belonged to.

Shirley Yang replied, "According to the Great Tang Records on the Western Regions, the ancient sages of the Western Regions should date back to the 16th century BC, which corresponds to the Xia or Shang Dynasties in the Central Plains. That was the first period of civilization in the ancient Western Regions, roughly a thousand years before the era of the Thirty-Six Kingdoms of the Western Regions."

I did the calculation and was secretly shocked. I hadn't realized it was that ancient. Then I felt even less inclined to take these prophecies carved on the stone sarcophagus seriously. There were no more prophetic stone paintings beyond this. Perhaps the prophet was confused at the time and simply drew one person too few. Even the most precise calculations can have errors, let alone a prophecy that has traversed thousands of years.

I asked Shirley Yang again if she could tell from the external prophetic carvings whether anything would happen after we opened the sarcophagus, or if there might be danger.

Shirley Yang shook her head. "There are no extra hints. But we are trapped in this tiny space—no way to heaven, no escape to earth. We have no choice but to open the sarcophagus and look. Since the prophet foresaw that we would unintentionally arrive here, perhaps he left some guidance on how to get out."

Fatty grew impatient waiting. He walked over brazenly, pushing me and Shirley Yang aside, saying, "You two have studied this for a long time and haven't figured anything out. How much can such a small brat possibly predict? Watch me. Isn't this just a broken box? It’s not even locked... Oh right, didn't he predict that one of the four figures would open the sarcophagus? Let's challenge him on that, Old Hu, come here and lend a hand. We'll open the lid together." He was about to grab and pull open the lid of the stone sarcophagus.

Almost simultaneously, the unconscious Ye Yixin suddenly convulsed, her legs kicked out once, and then she lay still.

We forgot all about the stone sarcophagus and rushed over to check on her. Checking her pulse, we found absolutely no vital signs. She had already been suffering from acute dehydration, and the arduous journey, coupled with the turmoil in the ghost cave of Mount Zagrama, had brought her to the brink of death at any moment. It was already a miracle she had held on this long, but we never expected her to finally burn out and die so suddenly at this very moment.

The three of us fell silent. Shirley Yang held Ye Yixin’s body and burst into tears. I sighed, just about to offer some words of comfort, when I saw Professor Chen, who had been acting erratically and grinning foolishly, stand up from the ground, walk to the stone sarcophagus, and pull the lid open with one hand.

The three of us stood there dumbfounded. Everything had happened exactly as the prophet had foretold in the carvings on the sarcophagus: five people entered, one suddenly died, and then one person moved to open the sarcophagus. People often compare Zhuge Liang's foresight to the divine, his calculations to the marvelous; I think even the venerable Mr. Kongming wasn't this accurate. The precision of this prophecy was terrifying.

Shirley Yang, afraid that the mentally unstable Professor Chen might cause more trouble, quickly pulled his sleeve and made him sit on the ground to rest. Their relationship was like that of a dear uncle and niece. Seeing Professor Chen so crazy and foolish, Shirley Yang’s heart ached, and she couldn't help but cry again.

I knew Shirley Yang was extremely competitive and never showed weakness in front of anyone. For her to cry twice in front of Fatty and me today meant she was heartbroken to the extreme. The pressure she was under today was truly immense. I didn't know how to comfort her, so I just let her sit next to Professor Chen and sob.

Fatty and I walked over to the stone sarcophagus opened by the professor to see what was inside. The two doors on the front had been pulled open, and the cowhide lacquer seal had flaked off.

Inside, there were two more small stone doors, also sealed with cowhide lacquer. On these doors were carved three more sets of stone paintings, which made me break out in a cold sweat; I couldn't speak for a long time.

Fatty glanced at them twice, didn't understand, and asked me, "What are these paintings showing? Old Hu, you haven't been scared senseless by the stone carvings, have you?"

I took a deep breath, trying my best to remain calm, and told Fatty, "These paintings are also the prophet's prophecies..."

Fatty quickly asked, "What do the prophecies say? Do they mention how we can get out of this hellhole?"

I forcibly suppressed the frantic beating in my chest and whispered to Fatty, "The prophecy says that among the four people who open the second layer of the sarcophagus, one of them is a demon..."