To relay the news to the militia platoon leader, a villager informed him that an elder from the archaeological team had died. Shirley Yang and I felt a resounding "buzz" in our heads upon hearing this. That elder might well be Professor Sun, the very man we were seeking; if he were dead, our entire enterprise would likely collapse. Why couldn't this have happened earlier or later, but precisely at this critical juncture?

Listening to the villager continue his report to the platoon leader, it turned out only two members of the archaeology team had come down. They had instructed the villagers to use a basket to lower them into the cave beneath the coffin shop to see what lay below. They had been down for over an hour, and there had been no response to calls. The village chief worried they might have met with an accident and intended to send down some of the braver villagers to look for them. However, everyone was terrified, recalling the legends of the coffin shop, and a panic seized the crowd. No one dared to descend into what they feared was a passage to the netherworld, from which return was impossible.

Only the burly militia platoon leader had been down once before, so the village chief reluctantly sent men to fetch him back for assistance.

The platoon leader had previously forced himself down into the subterranean passage, playing the hero, but recalling that chilling cavern, he now shivered uncontrollably even under the sun. Seeing that the chief had sent for him, perhaps intending to send him down again, the platoon leader's legs felt weak. He inwardly cursed his bad luck, wanting to turn back, yet found himself utterly unable to move his feet.

Shirley Yang noticed this as an opportunity and gave me a meaningful look, which I immediately understood. Since Professor Sun's fate was unknown while he was trapped in the pit, we had to risk going down to rescue him, dead or alive. This was a remote backwater; if we waited for others to arrive, Professor Sun would surely perish.

So, I firmly grasped the militia platoon leader's hand and said to him, "Comrade Company Commander, it turns out you are the first hero who descended into that tunnel. Such an act is far beyond the capability of ordinary men. I am truly honored to shake your hand."

Although the platoon leader was a coarse man, he was extremely vain; otherwise, he wouldn't have orchestrated the farce of a militia curfew. Hearing me speak this way greatly flattered him.

I struck while the iron was hot and continued, "I know that kind of underground passage; even if you are forged of iron, you cannot long resist the chilling aura within. Since you have already braved that tunnel once, and we are concerned for Professor Sun of the archaeology team—that stubborn, nearly bald old man, an old acquaintance—why don't you lead us there, and I will go down in your stead? Of course, my doing this is partly to save my old friend, and partly to deeply study your heroic deeds. Not only will I personally learn from you, but I will also call upon the entire nation to launch a vigorous movement to learn from your example. So, quickly take us to the coffin shop in the village."

The platoon leader looked somewhat conflicted. "Brother, you see... it's not that I won't let you into the village, but the organization gave strict orders that no unauthorized personnel are allowed in today."

A fire flared in my chest, smoke rising within me. It seemed this bastard only yielded to force, not favors or money. In that case, I wouldn't be polite either. I swiftly grabbed the club from the platoon leader’s hand, fixed a stern look on him, and said, "Do you see the lady behind me? She is a special envoy from the United States. To tell you the truth, we are from the Sino-American Cooperative Organization. If you delay our important business any further, she will have to file a diplomatic note with our Ministry of Foreign Affairs to have your position as platoon leader revoked. I say, you are a state cadre of some standing; how can you be so blind to the situation? Haven't you noticed she is already impatient? It is only out of respect for me that I am explaining this to you; had I not admired you as a brave man, I wouldn't waste words. Are you going to let us through or not?"

The platoon leader was thoroughly confused and didn't grasp the exact meaning of my words, but hearing that a high official could be involved to have him dealt with by "the organization" immediately made him falter. He instantly agreed to take us into the village.

I gave two yuan to Old Man Liu's grandson, telling him to buy candy and reminding him not to play on the way back. With that, I sent him home.

Shirley Yang and I dared not delay and hurried after the militia platoon leader into Shibeidian Village, nestled behind the hill. Turning the bend, the view suddenly opened up. It turned out Shibeidian was situated in a small basin surrounded by rolling hills. This location was exceptionally advantageous, offering a mild winter and cool summer. During the dry season, such small basins rarely lacked rainfall due to atmospheric pressure. When the Yellow River flooded, the dense surrounding hills acted as a natural barrier. Furthermore, Shibeidian had a considerable population, at least five or six hundred households, and looking down from the hillside, the village appeared quite orderly and well-arranged.

Not long after we started walking, we saw a colossal stone tablet erected on a slope. I had seen the Wordless Stele on Mount Tai years ago, which was immensely large, yet the stele at the entrance of Shibeidian Village was little smaller than Mount Tai's monument. The inscriptions on the stele had long since vanished, making it look like a large, protruding slab of rock from a distance. Beneath the stele rested a headless, massive stone beast. It somewhat resembled the Bixi that carries steles, yet it was not quite the same.

Shirley Yang and I rushed toward the village to save Professor Sun, but pausing to look at the peculiar stele, we both studied it intently without discerning its origin. She asked me, "This doesn't look like a tombstone. Do you see any signs of an ancient tomb nearby?"

I glanced around as we walked. The environment here was excellent, the climate pleasant, suitable for living. But the surrounding area was all scattered hills, lacking any discernible pattern or geomantic arrangement, not the sort of place for a noble family's tomb. Even if one existed, it wouldn't be for royalty. The platoon leader had mentioned the chilling air emanating from the pit under the coffin shop, the brick-paved first level, the stone bed in the middle, and the further depths below—what kind of place could it be?

Regardless, our only hope now rested on Professor Sun. With his life hanging in the balance deep underground, no matter what dragon's den or tiger's lair lay beneath, I had to find a way to save him. I quickened my pace with Shirley Yang.

The militia platoon leader led the way to a coffin shop at the eastern edge of the village and stopped. This establishment sold not only coffins but also incense and paper effigies. An old plaque hung above the doorway, and a crowd of curious villagers milled outside. Inside, three or five stout militiamen guarded the entrance, preventing anyone from entering. In truth, even if permitted, no one dared to enter now; everyone was uneasy and whispering amongst themselves. Some claimed the hole led to the Dragon Palace beneath the Yellow River, which would surely enrage the Yellow River Dragon King, leading to a flood that would inundate thousands of miles around. Others suggested it connected to the underworld, and if the opening wasn't sealed by nightfall, hungry ghosts and specters from the underworld would escape to wreak havoc. A local primary school teacher offered an even stranger theory: "You donkeys only know superstition and nonsense. That chilling cold below must lead to the South Pole. Soon, the ice water from the other side of the Earth will rush back in and drown all you superstitious fools."

The village elders were in a complete panic—the two archaeologists sent by the province hadn't shown any sign of life since descending, the pulled-up basket was empty, and no one dared to go down to investigate. If superiors blamed them, it would be hard to escape responsibility.

While the village chief and others were panicking, they saw the militia platoon leader return. This platoon leader was known throughout the village as the bravest. Since the villagers refused to enter the pit, he was the one they had to rely on to lead the way again.

Before the village chief could give an order, the platoon leader introduced me and Shirley Yang, stating that these two were from the Sino-American Cooperative Organization and also part of the archaeology team, knowing the two members currently underground whose fates were unknown.

The village chief rushed to embrace me. "My comrade, we have been waiting for people from the organization as if waiting for the stars and the moon." He then lamented a host of difficulties, explaining that the village committee wasn't unwilling to save the men, but the villagers were paralyzed by fear due to the coffin shop legends. Though they officially had a militia platoon, the roster hadn't been full since '79; they had only seven or eight disorganized men with no proper training, utterly unprepared for such an emergency. Since we were comrades sent by higher authority, the militia was now under my command.

I understood the chief's intent—he was shifting the entire burden onto me. But I couldn't argue with him now. I went inside and glanced at the subterranean opening—many floor tiles in the coffin shop had been pried up, revealing a massive, pitch-black fissure whose depth was impossible to gauge. I hadn't brought any equipment, and it would be extremely difficult for Shirley Yang and me to go down alone to rescue anyone; we needed help.

So, I first instructed the village chief to send a fast runner to the county seat for reinforcements—be it police, armed police, or medical personnel—and to urge them to arrive as quickly as possible. However, I knew that once local government functions in such a remote county started moving, they required layers of approvals and endorsements, making efficiency very low; we couldn't rely entirely on them for timely arrival.

I knew Professor Sun and the others had been down for quite some time. If they were truly in danger, they likely would have perished already. I could only pray to the Old Master that they were merely trapped, giving us a slim chance of rescue. But haste makes waste this time; we couldn't act rashly. Moreover, these militiamen were a motley crew, and preparations had to be made beforehand; another accident would create immense trouble.

Next, I ordered the platoon leader to assemble all the militiamen—eight in total, including himself—to line up horizontally, each carrying a fire poker or a scarlet-tasseled spear. I stood in front and addressed them, "Comrades, two of our colleagues are in peril below. I am now leading you to rescue them. Everyone must follow my orders and not have too many reservations. This place below is absolutely not the underworld; it might be some kind of ancient ruin. I am asking you to rescue them, and this is not volunteer labor; each of you will receive one hundred yuan for your service. If you succeed in bringing the men up, each person will receive an additional hundred. How about it? Comrades, do you have the resolve? Do you dare to go?"

The militiamen were initially listless, unwilling to risk danger. They hesitated because the village chief had given the order, and some even planned to feign stomach aches to avoid going. But when they heard that each person would receive a total of two hundred yuan for their labor, their spirits immediately soared. Heads held high, their entire demeanor changed, and they unanimously agreed.

Seeing that the financial incentive had worked, I had them bring some rifles from the village's armory and asked the village chief to prepare candles and flashlights. I gave everyone a whistle made from tree bark, common in the countryside.

Shirley Yang reminded me, "This pit has at least two levels. Professor Sun and the others might have wanted to check the extent of air erosion damage on the lower level, whatever they encountered there. Furthermore, we don't know how much deeper it goes beneath the second level. In the subterranean environment, the chemical and biological effects of salts, moisture, gases, and bacteria cause a rapid change upon contact with air, causing severe harm to the human body. Every one of us should cover our mouths and noses with a wet towel, light torches, and retreat immediately if the torch goes out."

I nodded in agreement and had everyone prepare according to her instructions. I left three militiamen above specifically in charge of raising and lowering the basket, and instructed the village chief and the committee members to guard the entrance to keep unauthorized people out.

Just as preparations were nearing completion and I was about to descend first, a commotion erupted outside the door. A blind man managed to squeeze in amidst the confusion. This man wore a pair of Shuangyuan dark glasses, sported a goatee, held an old thread-bound book in one hand, and a bamboo stick in the other. He anxiously inquired of the group inside the coffin shop, "Which one is in charge? Quickly come out and speak!"

Impatiently, I shouted to the village chief, "Didn't we agree to keep unauthorized people out? How did you let this blind man in? Get him out quickly; don't delay our urgent business."

The blind man heard the direction of my voice and tapped the ground with his stick. "Impudent boy! You probably don't know who I am, or you wouldn't dare speak so wildly. I have come to save your lives..."

The village chief hurried over to me. "Comrade Hu, this is a renowned fortune-teller from the county. Last year, my wife stepped on a fox spirit and was possessed; it was thanks to this gentleman's guidance that her life was saved. Listen to what he says; he must be correct."

I was extremely agitated, desperate to know Professor Sun's fate, and snapped at the blind man, "Go to hell! Back when we swept away all the demons and monsters, why didn't we deal with you? Where were you hiding? Now you pop up pretending to be important! I'm telling you to get out of the way quickly and stop obstructing our work."

The blind man pursed his lips and gave a cold huff. "I once cast a hex for a high official in Jiangxi; when calamity strikes, there is a place to go. That was long before a disrespectful junior like you existed. I cannot bear to watch these innocent lives be ruined because of you, so I warn you: this underground passage is not comparable to ordinary places. If I were to tell you what's inside, it might scare you all to death."