I didn't have time to explain the subtleties to Da Jinya and Fatty; I simply told them to follow my lead. I then mimicked the principles from the "Escape" chapter of the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Geomancy Secret, fashioning an eight-trigram layout with glutinous rice and using the twenty-three cyclic substitutions to calculate the steps. However, the I Ching's trigrams are notoriously difficult, and I have no natural aptitude for them. Despite knowing some theory, I couldn't perform the actual calculation.

My head spun multiple times; the more I calculated, the more confused I became. It seemed I truly wasn't cut out for this. Anxiety gnawed at me, making it impossible to settle down. At that moment, no one could help. Fatty was only good for counting money, and while Da Jinya was shrewd in business, numerology was not his strength.

Finally, I told Fatty and Da Jinya, "Forget racking our brains over this. Since we know the principle of this 'Suspended Soul Staircase' is to use changes in elevation to confuse us with specific reference points, making us walk in circles, dealing with it should be easier. I think we should resort to a blunt approach—let's just roll down."

Fatty countered, "Old Hu, weren't you just confident you could calculate the way out? Why the sudden change of heart? Has your brain reached capacity? I said we should roll down earlier, but what if we never reach the bottom? Can you guarantee that rolling down will work?"

I replied to Fatty, "Yes, didn't you also plan to roll down earlier? After just a short while, you’ve already lost conviction? Rolling down is victory; trust me on this." But as soon as the words left my mouth, I immediately lost faith myself. This Suspended Soul Staircase in the Western Zhou Ghost Tomb had an extremely bizarre angle; this path wasn't viable either.

Just then, the candle beside us burned down to the wick. These small candles bought from Gutian lasted barely an hour at most. Da Jinya, afraid of the dark, quickly pulled out another candle to relight, when he suddenly exclaimed, "Hey, Master Hu, I just remembered something."

Fatty grumbled, "Old Jin, why do you always pull this stunt? Can't you just say everything at once? Must you keep startling us like this?"

Da Jinya explained, "I was genuinely terrified today; my mind has only just cleared up. I remember my old man telling me about this kind of mechanism before, though it wasn't quite the same. It was a straight path, like a maze, where no matter which way you looked, it appeared to be a single corridor, but it actually twisted and turned you in circles. I also know an old man—he's not a tomb raider—but he possesses an ancestral text from the Sui Dynasty called the Manual of Divine Craftsmanship. I tried to buy it, but he wouldn't sell. However, I've seen the book. It mentioned these subterranean maze passages. It even had a diagram, looking like two figure-eights intertwined. I wonder if that kind of maze passage is the same as the Suspended Soul Staircase we are in now?"

I said to Da Jinya, "I know about that maze passage too. The principle is similar, but every location is adapted to the local conditions. Depending on the topography, the size and form will vary. You absolutely need to be able to deduce the trigram numbers to get out, but the problem is we can't calculate them."

Da Jinya remarked, "I haven't heard of the Suspended Soul Staircase, but I did hear that old man say that these soul-hooking maze passages were rarely used after the Zhou Dynasty because the method to break them is incredibly simple; they can't trap people at all."

Hearing this, Fatty and I stopped paying close attention to Da Jinya. How could such a complex maze be broken?

Da Jinya revealed, "Actually, once it's explained, it's not difficult at all. These places rely on using reference points to play tricks. At intervals, they intentionally—or perhaps unintentionally—leave a marker. Once you focus on these markers, you'll be led astray from the correct path. Furthermore, the angles of the steps are intentionally different from the norm; some treads slope slightly downward, while others are flat or raised. This diverts attention from the changes in angle, making it hard to notice shifts in weight and balance. Paradoxically, stumbling blindly with your eyes shut might actually lead you out."

Fatty exclaimed to Da Jinya, "Whoa, that truly is the voice of wisdom waking the dreamer! If we blindfold ourselves and walk down, ignoring the step count and the markers, maybe we can bash our way out."

However, I felt this method was absolutely infeasible. What Da Jinya described was an even stupider approach. Although this Suspended Soul Staircase primarily confuses people using visibility, the variation in step height holds immense subtlety. Relying on instinct is completely out of the question. We don't know the scale of this "Suspended Soul Staircase"; who knows how long it is in total? And we’ve been struggling on the staircase for so long, ascending and descending countless times. Walking down with our eyes closed—when would we ever get out?

But damn it, why was there no solution? Annoyed, I punched the stone wall next to me and suddenly realized: this Suspended Soul Staircase is designed to counter tomb robbers working alone. There are three of us; we can’t utilize the length, but we can utilize the width!

I explained my idea to Da Jinya and Fatty, and they both nodded repeatedly. This was indeed a viable method. Since the staircase was over ten meters wide, a single person in the center, focusing only on finding the crescent moon markings on the floor in pitch darkness, wouldn't be able to see the walls on either side, thus being unconsciously led off course by the markers into diverging paths. Walking right along one wall wouldn't work either; that would only pull us into the figure-eight path, further destroying any sense of direction.

But if the three of us lit candles, spread out in a horizontal line, with two of us positioned near the side walls maintaining a safe visual distance, we could communicate after descending every step. Walking down slowly like this, marking every fork we encountered, it would take a few hours at most to map a way out.

So, the three of us proceeded according to plan. We drew a rough map with paper and pen, marking every level of the staircase. If we found a fork, we placed a clear marker—first using glutinous rice, and when that ran out, using cigarettes. Sure enough, not long after walking down, we discovered a hidden fork. We then placed clear markers—glutinous rice and cigarette butts—all along the entire staircase and recorded them accurately on the map. Continuing forward, we moved in stops and starts, recording as we went. The map grew increasingly complex, crisscrossing in intricate ways; the most challenging section was where two spirals converged.

This "Suspended Soul Staircase" was cleverly designed using a natural cavern; it wasn't actually that large. If we had a large contingent, the staircase would be useless. But for one or two people, unable to cover the width of the path, it’s easy to get deeply trapped—unless one carries sufficient illumination equipment, lighting a full row of candles on every level. Otherwise, focusing only on the crescent markings on the steps is a death sentence, leading one deeper and deeper into the trap. Moreover, the material of the steps was incredibly hard; without sharp tools, making new marks would be nearly impossible.

Although the steps were gray, they had clearly been coated with a secret substance that actually absorbed light. Considering the ingenuity of the ancient Chinese, it was truly breathtaking and commanding of respect.

In fact, such secret formulas and materials were abundant in ancient China, though they were monopolized by royalty and the aristocracy. Instead of being used for public works that improved people's lives, they were employed to solidify their rule or to design and guard the imperial mausoleums. In those times, such secrets were exclusively the privilege of a select few.

Judging by the progress, we had mapped about two-fifths of the structure when, finally, there were no more steps beneath our feet. We had returned to the Nether Hall, where that human-faced stone sarcophagus still stood quietly in the southeast corner.

I checked my watch; we had spent a full four and a half hours wrestling with the "Suspended Soul Staircase." It was already around three in the afternoon. We hadn't eaten anything substantial since our last meal at nine in the morning, and our stomachs were empty. We had expected to just explore the tomb tunnel, grab some funerary objects in the Nether Hall, and leave. Who knew we’d run into so many setbacks and encounter a Western Zhou "Ghost Tomb" itself?

This whole ordeal thoroughly exposed our tendency toward blind optimism. I made a firm resolution: I would never again undertake anything without exhaustive preparation. While "fighting battles without preparation" is a fine tradition of our army, it’s clearly unsuitable for tomb raiding. Warfare relies on courage and wisdom, but excavating tombs requires an even clearer mind, extensive experience, perfect technique, superb equipment, and thorough preparation—all these conditions are indispensable.

The tomb brick in the exact center of the Nether Hall floor had been lifted and set aside; that was the tomb tunnel we had entered through. Earlier, we discovered that beneath that opening, the passage descended into the lower levels of the Western Zhou Ghost Tomb, leading to the burial trench.

The area surrounding the Nether Hall was pitch black. Out of habit, I lit a candle in the southeast corner, but this was the last one we brought into the tomb. The candle's tiny flame burned straight up, casting a meager light into the eerie, ghostly subterranean palace, yet that small light brought a measure of comfort to our hearts.

The three of us gazed at the candle on the ground and let out a collective sigh of relief. Having survived, we were elated and couldn't help but burst into mutual laughter. I said to Da Jinya and Fatty, "Well, in the end, you still had to rely on Old Hu's skills, right? A small place like this couldn't possibly trap us."

Fatty retorted, "Jin and I deserve plenty of credit too! Without us two, could you have gotten out on your own? You’re getting ahead of yourself already."

I laughed heartily, but as the laughter continued, I suddenly felt something was missing, and the laughter died in my throat.

Where had the two large white geese, which I had been holding onto, gone? In my haste to leave the "Suspended Soul Staircase," I hadn't noticed. I asked Fatty, "Didn't I tell you to keep hold of them? Where are they? Did you leave them on the staircase?"

Fatty swore to the heavens, "We definitely, absolutely brought them back here to the Nether Hall! I let go when I got excited. Damn it, where did they run off to in a flash? They shouldn't have gone far. Let's split up and look quickly; if they wander too far, they'll be impossible to catch."

If the two missing geese were in the Nether Hall, they would be extremely hard to find. If they had wandered into the vast, magnificent main hall with its grand pavilions, finding them would be even more hopeless. The critical issue was that we were few in number and lacked large-scale lighting equipment; how could we search in the dark?

Without the geese, we couldn't escape the siege of the Ghost Tomb. But the Nether Hall was so large; where could they have gone? Just as we were about to search around, we heard a strange noise coming from inside the human-faced stone sarcophagus—a sound that pierced our eardrums in the vast, silent underground palace.