The roof of the Fish Bone Temple swayed slightly in the mountain wind, creaking in a way that set one’s heart on edge. However, after observing it for so long, we realized that despite its dilapidated state, the temple was incredibly sturdy, likely because its supporting beams were fashioned from an entire fish skeleton.

Of the Dragon King’s clay statue inside the temple, less than a fifth remained; the upper sections had vanished long ago. The altar base was shaped like a coral disc, also made of clay, its painted colors completely faded, making it look quite unsightly.

I estimated that if there was a robber’s tunnel in the temple, it would most likely be situated beneath this clay altar. When Fatty asked what basis I had for this guess, I didn't tell him that my intuition stemmed from the popular Wuxia novels of the time.

We set our gear on the ground, rolled up our sleeves, and, with Fatty, strained to move the altar. We managed to chip off quite a few chunks of the altar’s clay, but the main structure, along with the remaining half-statue, didn't budge an inch.

I thought to myself that brute force wouldn't work; perhaps there was some sort of mechanism involved?

Fatty, however, cared nothing for mechanisms. His temper flared, and he swung his entrenching tool at the altar. Though made of clay, the altar was remarkably hard. Fatty hacked and hammered until sweat poured off him, managing to break away only half before revealing raw, white stone stubble underneath.

This indicated there was no passage beneath the altar. We had labored in vain for half a day, and a sense of dejection settled over us both.

Da Jinya had been assisting from the sidelines, keeping his distance while Fatty smashed the altar to avoid being struck by flying debris. Suddenly, he called out, "Master Hu, Fatty, take a look—is there a secret passage behind this altar? Perhaps it was constructed on the side, not a straight vertical tunnel like we imagined."

Prompted by Da Jinya, I bent down to examine the back of the altar. It stood about waist-high, rectangular, situated deep within the main hall. The gap behind it was narrow, barely enough for a person to squeeze through.

I had checked the back earlier and assumed it was molded clay seamlessly joined to the statue. Furthermore, I was operating under the preconception that the tunnel entrance should be on the ground, so I had overlooked this possibility entirely.

Upon closer inspection now, I tapped the back of the altar. To my surprise, the sound resonated with a hollow echo. My touch also informed me that beneath the outer layer of clay was a thick wooden panel.

I kicked it once. With a few sharp cracks, a hole opened in the back of the altar. When the wooden panel was finally pried up, it turned out the tomb robber’s tunnel was indeed beneath the altar. However, the visible part was solidly constructed with brick and mud, utterly convincing. The entrance hidden at the back was a wooden board, plastered over with the same clay as the rest of the altar and then painted. This board was actually movable, operable from both inside and out, making it completely undetectable from the exterior.

I turned to Da Jinya and said, "Well done, Master Jin. Truly a word that wakes a dreamer. How did you come up with that idea?"

Da Jinya flashed his gleaming golden teeth and replied, "I was just speaking off the cuff, never dreaming I’d actually guess right. Looks like our luck isn't bad today; we might make a hefty haul."

The three of us could barely contain our sudden ecstasy. We hurriedly moved our supplies just past the mouth of the tunnel. I shone my Wolf's Eye flashlight inside. The diameter of the opening wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either—Fatty could squeeze in with room to spare. However, given his bulk, he wouldn't be able to turn around inside; if he needed to retreat midway, he’d have to back out feet-first.

I couldn't help but praise it aloud: "Truly masterful work! Little Fatty, Master Jin, look at how this tunnel was dug. Where it’s supposed to be straight, it is perfectly plumb, and the curved sections are as if drawn with a compass! Even the shovel marks along the ceiling are perfectly spaced, one right after the other—simply impeccable."

Da Jinya, being from a family steeped in this craft, certainly recognized true skill and joined in the chorus of approval. Only Fatty seemed unimpressed. Hugging two large white geese, Fatty declared, "It's time these two specimens earned their keep. Let them be our scouts."

I said, "Not so fast. This tunnel has been sealed for years; let’s air out the foul gases first. Then we can send a goose down for reconnaissance. We’ve been at this all afternoon; let's eat and drink something first."

Fatty carefully returned the two geese to their basket and produced dried beef and white liquor. Since this Dragon King Temple was a fake anyway, we had no need to hold back. The three of us sat right on the altar to eat and drink.

While eating, we discussed entering the tunnel. Da Jinya still harbored a nagging doubt: if the mountain body was hollow, why go to all the trouble of digging a tunnel here at the Fish Bone Temple? Wouldn't it have been easier to find a mountain cave and start digging from there?

I countered that it wouldn't work. Although there was extensive karst cave topography here, our gathered intelligence led us to this conclusion:

Whether the locals called this area "Dragon Ridge" or "Coiled Snake Slope," the name itself wasn't important; they merely described the complex terrain.

The crucial point was that almost everyone who knew this area described the caves inside the mountain as a labyrinth. The name Longling Mikuku (Dragon Ridge Maze Cave) originated from this reputation. Therefore, I believed this network of caves wasn't one continuous expanse but a fragmented system of large and small voids. Some parts of the mountain were solid rock, while others were hollow. These caves varied in depth and length, connecting to each other in a baffling, intricate pattern, making it extremely difficult for anyone who fell in to find their way out.

The Mojin Xiaowei (Grave Robber Colonel) who erected the Fish Bone Temple must have possessed abilities far beyond the ordinary to accurately pinpoint the location of the ancient tomb amidst a range whose feng shui had been deliberately disrupted. His skill in assessing terrain and posture was exceptional.

This tunnel slanted downwards. Grave robbing also adheres to the principle of "gazing, listening, questioning, and touching"—the four diagnostic methods. "Gazing" involves surveying the feng shui with one's eyes to locate the tomb precisely; this is the most difficult aspect. "Listening" means judging the earth's composition to gather geological and soil data about the tomb. "Questioning" involves befriending locals and gaining their trust to elicit intelligence about the tomb through casual conversation with the elders. Finally, "Touching" has a specific application in the technique of tunneling, called "cutting." This means precisely calculating angles, trajectories, and terrain factors in advance, then boring a tunnel from a distance so that it runs perfectly straight to the coffin chamber where the deceased lies.

The tunnel before us, slightly inclined downward, was likely a "cut" tunnel. As long as the straight-line distance was maintained, even if the tunnel entered the cave system halfway through, the diggers could navigate through the labyrinth according to their pre-calculated direction, continuing straight toward the underground palace without getting lost in the Dragon Ridge Maze Cave.

I held immense admiration for the master who dug this tunnel. This passage must have been the optimal, golden route connecting to the ancient tomb’s underground palace nearby. It was a pity we hadn't lived in the same era; I would have loved to exchange techniques with that predecessor.

After finishing the liquor and meat, we smoked a few cigarettes, estimating that most of the stale air had dissipated. What surprised me was the sheer length of the tunnel; it was far longer than anticipated.

My initial idea of buying two geese was to tie them to ropes and send them in to test the air quality. But I hadn't expected the passage to be this deep.

I told Fatty and Da Jinya, "This tunnel probably cuts through the surrounding cave systems of Dragon Ridge. Since those caves are interconnected and might even have water, we might not need to worry about breathing. If it’s a solid passage, however, every breath we take inside will increase the concentration of carbon dioxide…"

Da Jinya interjected, "That is extremely dangerous. We cannot rush in without adequate protection against respiratory poisoning. Since we’ve found the tunnel, perhaps we should seal it up first and only proceed once we are fully prepared. The tomb isn't going to grow legs and run away."

I said, "That's not necessary. I will lead the way, wearing a simple respirator. We will insert a candle every so often in the tunnel. If the candle blows out, it means the concentration of harmful, oxygen-depleting gases is too high, and we retreat immediately. Alternatively, we can use the ropes to guide the two geese ahead of us; if they start to look sickly, we pull back right away. Besides, these simple respirators I have, while not professional gas masks, should last for a while."

Seeing how thoroughly I had considered the risks, Da Jinya was tempted to join us in exploring the underground palace. That's the inherent flaw in this profession: if you don't let a man know where a great tomb is, fine. But once he knows it’s nearby, how can he rest until he’s had a look?

It wasn't just a vulgar man like Da Jinya. Even the great scholar Guo Moruo, along with several other archaeologists, repeatedly petitioned the Premier, urging them to open the Qianling Mausoleum of Emperor Gaozong of Tang, giving the noble excuse that they feared the tomb, built right on an earthquake fault line, would have its artifacts destroyed by a tremor. In reality, these scholars desperately wanted to see what was inside the mausoleum within their lifetimes. Having dedicated their entire careers to this work, the longer they labored, the stronger their curiosity grew. The thought of the genuine calligraphy of Wang Xizhi among the burial treasures made them impatient and unable to hold back. In the end, the Premier’s reply was: "No disturbance for ten years." Only then did they relent.

So, I understood Da Jinya’s feelings completely. For someone in the antiques trade, gaining entry to a major tomb’s palace offers bragging rights that could elevate one's status by a rank or two upon returning.

I tried to dissuade him a few more times, but seeing his unwavering resolve, I handed him a respirator. Then, Fatty took the lead, holding the ropes attached to the two geese, and crawled into the tunnel.

I followed closely behind, holding a lit candle. Da Jinya brought up the rear. The three of us crawled forward slowly. The tunnel had wooden supports fixed at intervals. Although there was no danger of collapse, the darkness was oppressive. After crawling forward a stretch, my eyes stung. I quickly lit a candle; it did not extinguish, indicating the air quality was still sufficient to proceed.

The further we crawled, the more intense the feeling of confinement became. As I was moving forward, Da Jinya patted my foot from behind. I turned back to see him covered in sweat and panting heavily. I knew he was exhausted. I signaled for Fatty ahead to stop and casually set the candle down in the dirt. Just as I was about to ask Da Jinya how he was doing and if he could manage to keep crawling, the candle I had placed on the ground suddenly went out.