It took us all our wits to recall that the ancient ritual of sealing a tomb required sacrificing fowl and livestock upon the completion of the inner vault, a ceremony meant to appease heaven and earth and ward off malevolent spirits. We deduced that bringing the highly spiritual white geese into the tomb must have disturbed this singular Ghost Mound. We were just about to strike down the two large white geese when Big Gold Tooth suddenly stopped me from laying a knife to them.

Fatty, seeing Big Gold Tooth prevent the slaughter, questioned him, "Old Jin, why the sudden change of heart? Didn't we agree just now?"

Big Gold Tooth motioned for me to lower the paratrooper knife still in my hand and said to Fatty and me, "Master Hu, Master Fatty, please forgive my sudden reservation. A thought just struck me—something that feels exceedingly improper."

I replied to Big Gold Tooth, "That's just my nature. When something pops into my head, I act first, consequences be damned. If I’ve done something improper, just tell me plainly."

Big Gold Tooth said, "It’s like this. Let me think how to put it... I’m getting flustered and muddled. I need to organize my thoughts."

Fatty and I had been trapped in this ancient tomb for so long that while we weren't as panicked and helpless as in the beginning when the Ghost Mound had us dizzy and frantic, we were growing increasingly anxious to leave. We had finally devised a plan and were about to act, only to be halted by Big Gold Tooth. The suppressed frustration flared, but we had no choice but to patiently wait for him to speak.

After some deliberation, Big Gold Tooth finally spoke, "I’ve been giving it some thought. If our assumption is correct, the three of us are currently trapped within a Western Zhou Ghost Mound. The reason this West Zhou Ghost Mound has materialized might be because we brought one of the three sacred birds—the living geese. Geese are spiritual and highly alert; they are what alerted the Ghost Mound..."

Fatty grew impatient and interrupted, "Old Jin, you’ve been rambling on for so long, what is your actual point?"

I told Fatty not to interrupt Big Gold Tooth again, insisting he finish explaining. If they could actually find a way out, arguing over a moment or two wouldn't matter.

Big Gold Tooth continued, "If we slaughter the two geese, and there are no more fowl or livestock in this tomb, perhaps this Western Zhou Ghost Mound will vanish. However, have you two considered our current location? This endless flight of stone steps is part of the Ghost Mound itself. This means this area shouldn't exist naturally; it’s part of a long-destroyed Western Zhou tomb. Before the Ghost Mound appeared, this might have been solid earth and stone inside the mountain, or perhaps just a natural cavern."

Hearing this, I finally grasped Big Gold Tooth’s meaning: "Are you suggesting that if we kill the two geese here, and the Ghost Mound instantly disappears, we might fall outside the Tang Dynasty tomb, trapping us again, perhaps even leading to us being buried alive?"

Big Gold Tooth nodded. "Precisely. That’s what I mean. Furthermore, have you considered that the spirits of the Western Zhou tomb might not be complete? It seems only a fraction of it has appeared, overlapping with the Tang tomb. This staircase is the edge of the Ghost Mound, with no clear boundary—perhaps its perimeter is still in a state of flux. We can’t tell if it’s expanding or contracting. If we kill the two great white geese, what if..."

Thanks to Big Gold Tooth’s timely warning, I realized the gravity of the situation. We had nearly fallen into an even more terrifying and unpredictable predicament. I conceded, "Master Jin is right. We should first try to find a way back to the main chamber of the Tang tomb. Once we confirm a safe position near the chamber or the shaft entrance, then we can dispatch these troublesome geese."

However, easier said than done. This stone staircase repeated its pattern every twenty-three steps, looping endlessly. Once on these steps, moving either up or down led nowhere.

Fatty, Big Gold Tooth, and I deliberated for a while longer but couldn't find a solution. We couldn't just close our eyes and tumble down; that would likely result in what Fatty joked about—we'd roll until the outside world had achieved the Four Modernizations, and we still wouldn’t have reached the bottom.

This seemingly ordinary staircase of the Western Zhou tomb was proving more formidable than any malevolent zombie. If we encountered a zongzi while tomb raiding, at worst we could stake our lives on a deadly fight to determine the victor. But this staircase, built of massive stone slabs, couldn't be fought or smashed. Staying put was no solution, and moving down meant no end in sight. A profound sense of powerlessness enveloped me; I realized this was the true terror.

Just as we were at a loss, Big Gold Tooth remembered a method. Though we didn't know if it would work, desperate times called for desperate measures, so we agreed to try. First, the three of us had to confirm if every twenty-third step had a crescent-shaped notch on its edge. Counting as we descended, we went down five full segments.

Once confirmed, following our agreed-upon plan, the three of us each held a candle. I chose a step with a crescent notch and stood there, lighting my candle. Then Big Gold Tooth and Fatty continued downward, stopping only when they could still see the light from my candle. The second person would then stop and light theirs, and the third would proceed further.

The prerequisite for this plan was that the steps couldn't be too long. If there were only twenty-three steps, and we could maintain visual contact while extending beyond the length of those twenty-three steps, we might have a chance of reaching the burial chamber below.

However, when the three of us tested it, the plan proved utterly unworkable, constrained by objective reality. This endless staircase not only looped infinitely, but within its boundaries, it seemed exceptionally dark. This wasn't the normal darkness caused by a lack of light; rather, above, below, in front, and behind us, everything seemed shrouded in a thick, black miasma.

Even when lit, a candle could only illuminate the space of about five or six steps. Beyond that distance, the light was swallowed by the darkness. This darkness reminded me of the Ghost Cave in Xinjiang. Thinking about it, I couldn't help but shiver, as if the comrades who died in Xinjiang were lurking in the dark corners, observing my every move.

Because the visible range of the candlelight was limited to just six steps, even a powerful wolf-eye flashlight with a thirty-five-meter illumination range could only reach six steps away. Beyond that, there was only pitch blackness; not only could we not see far, but those further away couldn't see our flashlight or candle beams either.

With only three of us, we could only explore a distance of about twelve steps this way. Since the steps of this Western Zhou tomb were at least twenty-three steps long, this method offered no breakthrough.

Helpless, the three of us regrouped, lit a candle, and switched off all flashlights. Fatty took a few swigs from his canteen, seemingly trying to fill up on water, but the more he drank, the hungrier he got, cursing the damned stone steps repeatedly.

I smelled something off. A distinct scent of alcohol wafted from Fatty’s canteen. I challenged him, "Did you fill your canteen with strong liquor? Damn it, I told you to bring water, but you brought booze! If you drink too much, we’ll have to carry you out."

Fatty tried to evade the core issue. "Old Hu, doesn’t a drink steady the nerves at a time like this? How about this: you and Old Jin wait every six steps, lighting a candle like before, and I’ll take the plunge and run all the way down..."

I immediately dismissed Fatty's plan. "That kind of reckless bravery is useless. What you’re suggesting is simply throwing your life away. We absolutely cannot lose contact with each other. With three people, there’s hope for survival. Once scattered, losing mutual support, the challenges each of us faces will double. Back in the military, the most emphasized point in training was never to separate. Separation means collapse and disintegration. We should never choose to break out separately unless it’s an absolute last resort."

Fatty countered me, "Cut it out, old man. Is this not an absolute last resort? I say we are stuck between a rock and a hard place, heaven-high and earth-sealed. Besides, scattering isn't necessarily collapse and disintegration; that’s called preserving the revolutionary spark."

I snapped back, "Preserving what spark in this hellhole? Scattering like birds and beasts at the first sign of trouble—that’s guerrilla tactics!"

Big Gold Tooth, afraid we would start fighting in earnest, hurried to intervene. "Masters, masters, now is not the time to debate military theory. You are right, we shouldn't separate and try to break out. Besides, even if we did break out separately, where would we break out to? We are currently... ah... forget it. I agree, we absolutely cannot afford to be alone."

The laws of physics seemed suspended on this Western Zhou tomb staircase. I sighed and was about to sit down on a step to rest, but something at my waist stopped me. I reached down and felt the length of rope I had tied there. Overjoyed, I exclaimed to Fatty and Big Gold Tooth, "I’ve got it! How did I not think of the rope? Damn it all, they say desperation breeds ingenuity, but we were getting more frantic and losing our heads! We have hundreds of meters of rope combined—no matter how long this twenty-three-step staircase is, we have more than enough to go around seven or eight times!"

On this endless, featureless tomb staircase, the long lengths of rope felt like salvation. Fatty and Big Gold Tooth were thrilled and immediately helped, using the candlelight to meticulously tie together every piece of rope they carried, using their teeth as fasteners.

I looked at the knotted bundle of ropes. "This much rope is definitely enough. We shouldn't linger here; let’s move immediately."

Fatty volunteered to stay put, lighting a candle and securely tying the rope around his waist. He stood on one of the steps marked with the crescent notch, using this distinct marker as a reference point, which would make the operation easier. I had no certainty it would work; everything depended on this final attempt. Just as I was about to move, Fatty suddenly grabbed my arm.