Just as I was about to catch up to Da Jinya, who was being dragged away by the Man-Faced Spider, the Heizhui Mò, our only source of light—Fatty’s “Wolf Eye” flashlight—died at that very moment.

Darkness instantly became absolute; I knew clearly that any delay now would see Da Jinya dragged deep into the spider's lair, beyond rescue. The agonizing vision of him being paralyzed by venom, slowly dissolved and consumed, was like the suffering of Avici Hell…

Without a second thought, I stripped off my clothes. The hem was already tattered from scraping the ground, so I ripped at it forcefully, tearing it open. In a flash, I pulled off the sleeves, snatched the canteen—still half-full of wine from Fatty—grabbed it, splashed it haphazardly onto the cloth, and used my lighter to set it ablaze. I was wearing a Type 78 military uniform; these tended to stick to the skin when burned, which is why the army still issued the Type 65 or modified 65 uniforms for combat. You could buy brand-new ones in Beijing if you wanted them.

Because we anticipated having to squeeze through tunnels, we had all specifically chosen sturdy clothing. I happened to be wearing this uniform, and now it proved useful. I ignited the garment, and it quickly caught fire. Fearing it would cling to my hands and burn me, I dared not hesitate, hurling the burning bundle forward like a fireball.

By the flickering, sporadic light, I saw Da Jinya being pulled into a triangular opening. The firelight was about to die out again, but I clearly made out the direction. Fatty and I started running forward while simultaneously shedding our own clothes, igniting everything flammable we could and tossing it out to illuminate the way.

Seeing Da Jinya about to be dragged backward into the mouth of the equilateral triangle hole, I sprinted two steps and lunged, grabbing his arm with a death grip, pulling him back. Fatty arrived right behind me and severed the spider silking Da Jinya. At that moment, Da Jinya was barely two meters from being pulled into that triangular cavern.

Looking at Da Jinya, his face was already bruised and swollen from bashing against the rocks inside the cave, and his body was covered in bloody gashes. Miraculously, however, he was still conscious—a small blessing amid the catastrophe.

I figured this cave must be the spider’s main lair; we needed to leave quickly to avoid further attacks. The clothes on Fatty and me were nearly consumed; if we kept burning them, we’d be left naked. Furthermore, the spider had dragged us an unknown distance inside the cave, and the path was long lost, but we couldn't worry about that now. We needed to flee into the dark first and figure things out later.

Just as I was about to help Fatty carry Da Jinya away, before we could even shift position, several strands of spider silk suddenly shot out from the opposite triangular opening. This silk was tipped like an Indian roti, and once it stuck, it couldn't be shaken off; moreover, it moved with incredible speed. The three of us couldn't dodge in time and were all snagged. Fatty tried to block with his entrenching tool, but even the shovel got tangled in the silk. Fatty lost his grip, and the tool clattered to the ground. When he tried to bend down to retrieve it, his body was already stuck, completely immobilized.

If we had been clothed, it might have been easier to manage, but being caught naked by that sticky silk meant we couldn't break free immediately. The three of us were lumped together, slowly being dragged toward the triangular entrance.

I guessed correctly: that hole had to be the nest of the Man-Faced Spider, the Heizhui Mò. Who knew how many were inside—one giant one, or several half-grown ones? Regardless of their number, if we were dragged into that hole, we were done for.

The thick, sticky silk wrapped tighter and tighter, seven or eight strands twisting into one thick cord. The Heizhui Mò inside continued to spew silk outward. It looked like we would be bundled into a human mummy before we even entered the nest.

In my panic, I remembered I still held the lighter. I frantically flicked the flint wheel and used the flame to burn the silk clinging to my body. Heaven must have smiled upon us, or perhaps we weren't meant to die yet. Luckily, this Heizhui Mò silk lacked the fire resistance of ordinary silk. In an instant, two or three strands snapped. Although my body was still covered in the gooey strands, I was freed from the pulling force of the silk.

In those few seconds, Da Jinya and Fatty had been dragged another meter toward the hole. If I wanted to continue using the lighter to burn the silk and save them, I would probably only have time to save one person, but not the other.

In a desperate flash of inspiration, I yanked down Da Jinya’s pants. His belt had already snapped during the chase, and his trousers were torn so badly they exposed his rear; I pulled them down halfway with a single tug.

I shoved his pants into the opening and ignited them with the lighter, hoping to burn through all the silk twisted into a thick cable. Unexpectedly, as the pants sputtered just a few sparks, the entire triangular opening burst into flames simultaneously, the fire growing hotter and fiercer.

In an instant, the entire cavern was lit up by the blaze, and the silk being ejected from the entrance was instantly incinerated. I quickly dragged Da Jinya and Fatty backward, and the three of us frantically began batting off the remaining silk clinging to our bodies.

It seemed like half the mountain cave was on fire now, the roaring flames crackling loudly. Only then did I see clearly that the triangular cave structure was an artificial building, constructed entirely of wood. Perhaps to maintain the wood's durability, it had been coated with substances like pine resin and beef tallow.

This wooden structure was about the size of seven or eight ordinary houses. We couldn't fathom its purpose here. Surrounding the wooden edifice were desiccated corpses—human and animal—all drained dry by the Heizhui Mò. The spiders had sucked out every drop of moisture, essentially freeze-drying the bodies. Although the husks were covered in Heizhui Mò silk, the agonizing, distorted expressions on their faces were still visible, preserving the horror of how they had been slowly tortured to death.

As the wood burned and collapsed, three enormous fireballs writhed and struggled in the blaze. After a while, they slowly ceased moving—whether they were burned alive or crushed by the falling timber and stone, they gradually turned to charcoal.

Fatty, Da Jinya, and I were still reeling from the shock and wanted to flee far away, but our legs felt weak. We could only sit down where we were, staring at the inferno, all three of us pale with fright. What was this structure made of huge timbers and stone? Why did the Heizhui Mò choose this place as its nest?

Fatty suddenly pointed into the fire toward Da Jinya and me and exclaimed, "Old Hu, Old Jin, look there—a human face!"

Da Jinya and I followed Fatty’s gaze and indeed saw a gigantic human face within the raging fire, several times larger than the one formed by the markings on the Heizhui Mò's back, and far larger than the face carved on the stone sarcophagus.

The firelight reflecting off this face in the blaze lent its already bizarre expression an added layer of mystery. This giant face was situated at the very center of the structure. As the surroundings burned and collapsed, it was revealed: it was a massive bronze ding (cauldron), cast with a grotesque human visage on its surface.

Fatty asked me, "Old Hu, is this also part of that damned Ghost Tomb?"

I shook my head and told Fatty, "Probably not. Perhaps ancient people worshipped this cruel Man-Faced Heizhui Mò as an incarnation of a deity, deliberately building this temple right at their lair as an altar for offerings. Back then, when people weren't treated as human, who knows how many slaves they sacrificed to these Heizhui Mò for a feast. Today, we destroyed their nest; you could say we acted on behalf of Heaven."

That Western Zhou Ghost Tomb was most likely connected in some way to this altar bearing the Man-Faced Ding.

It was possible that after the ancient Western Zhou tomb was destroyed, this location, being deep within the caves and extremely concealed, was preserved. But these matters were now dust of history; perhaps only those studying the chronological history of the Western Zhou would know a thing or two.

I said to Fatty, "Let's stop discussing useless things now. Are you hurt? Let's carry Da Jinya and get out of here fast. There might be some Heizhui Mò that survived. If they attack now, we’re left with nothing but our underwear, completely unable to defend ourselves."

Fatty countered, "It's a pity to leave now. When the fire dies down, we’ll figure out a way to haul out that bronze ding. If we can get this thing back to Beijing, it could be worth a few buildings." He then nudged Da Jinya, "Old Jin, how are you? Come to?"

Da Jinya, thoroughly frightened and shaken by the impacts with the rocks, was staring blankly at the fire. After being pushed twice by Fatty, he finally snapped out of it and said, "Ah-yo, Fatty, Hu, I never thought the three of us brothers would meet again in... the underworld. Where is this place? Have we crossed the Bridge of Helplessness yet?"

Fatty told Da Jinya, "Are you confused? We’re not dead yet! If you can’t die, you have to keep suffering. But I have good news for you: we’ve struck it rich. There’s a bronze Man-Faced Ding in that temple ahead... Hey, I wonder if this thing can burn?" With that, he stood up, intending to walk closer for a look.

I lay on the ground and yelled at Fatty, "Can you just settle down for a minute? We don't even have clothes now, and you’re worried about that pile of scrap metal while you’re stark naked!"

Fatty’s eyes were shining, and he paid no attention to my words. However, the fire was raging fiercely. After taking a few steps forward, he couldn't bear the scorching heat and had to retreat. As he backed up, his foot landed on one of the bodies sucked dry by the Heizhui Mò. He lost his footing and fell flat, landing right on top of the desiccated corpse.

The corpse had likely been dead for a long time, its mouth gaping into a black void, only two dark holes where its eyes should have been. Fatty fell onto the corpse, face-to-face with it. Even with his courage, he was badly frightened. He let out a cry, planted his hands on the corpse, and tried to struggle back up.

Fatty fumbled, trying to push the corpse away, but accidentally yanked something off its neck. Fatty felt an object in his hand and held it up to look: it resembled an animal’s claw, glittering under the firelight, pitch black and translucent, inlaid with a circle of gold thread at the base. Fatty turned back to me and said, "Old Hu, look at this, is this a Mojin Fu?" He then patted the corpse again, "Hey, there’s a whole bag of good stuff here too..."