The current situation was hardly surprising. Although the gourd-shaped cave appeared entirely natural, likely formed during a period of intense geological upheaval in ancient times, the fossilized forest within held numerous relics left by the ancients. Based on the ancient carvings revealed on the fossil altar, it was almost certain that this mysterious cavern was considered an extremely important site by the local aboriginal inhabitants long before the construction of King Xian's tomb.

Human ancestors, during the primordial Stone Age when Hongmeng first opened, held the tradition of keeping records by tying knots. As civilization developed, visual forms like stone carvings, rock paintings, and reliefs became the most effective pathways for traditional culture. In places where important rites were performed, a large amount of graphic information was left behind, offering the most direct revelations to later generations.

Over the long passage of time, ancient pioneers used realistic or abstract artistic techniques to draw and carve figures or symbols onto the rock faces. These recorded every aspect of ancient human society. The fossil altar we discovered here beneath the Worm Valley detailed the secret rituals performed by the ancients when worshipping the mountain deity.

The first thing that caught the eye was the best-preserved relief on this altar. "Best-preserved" was relative; millennia of erosion had blurred a large portion of the carving. The stone relief utilized a polishing technique—chiseling first, then grinding—resulting in lines that were deep and thick, with smooth recesses. In some areas, traces of the original color even remained.

It was still discernible that the pattern in this stone carving depicted a tall, dark-faced deity with large ears and a high nose, coarse hair on his face, and a skull held in his mouth. The visage was strikingly simple and bizarre, impossible to forget at a glance.

Fatty pointed at the dark-faced deity on the fossil altar and remarked, "Hey, doesn't this black face look just like the idol enshrined in the Mountain God Temple at the entrance? It just lacks the two attendant Yaksha ghosts. So this Gourd Cave is his territory. I wonder what kind of bastard this guy is."

Shirley Yang stated, "The representations are slightly different, but the core essence is identical; it’s likely the same entity. However, the statue in the Mountain God Hall has the style of Qin and Han dynasty stone artifacts, giving it an ethereal and transcendent appearance, heavily influenced by the mainstream Han civilization sphere. This stone carving on the altar, however, exudes a raw, wild, impressionistic color everywhere, suggesting it’s a primitive relic dating back at least three or four thousand years—perhaps a remnant left by the southern frontier peoples before the Warring States period. The Mountain God Temple at the entrance might have been sculpted later, adopting a new image for the deity based on local legends when King Xian's tomb was built. For now, we can’t definitively say if it’s a mountain god or a shaman; let’s examine the rest."

Fatty continued clearing the rest of the stone carvings with his entrenching tool. He cleared a section while Shirley Yang examined it, but most of the carvings were unrecognizable, and the sequence was jumbled, making no sense. After observing for a while, they found no further valuable information.

I was growing anxious inwardly, holding the flashlight to illuminate Fatty and Shirley Yang while vigilantly watching our surroundings. Being positioned right in the middle of the cave was no trivial matter; the lurking dangers were too numerous: the elusive drowned female corpse, the abnormally large toads, and those massive flying insects. Although we hadn't suffered any fatal attacks yet, we still hadn't determined if our bodies were shrinking or if some change was occurring due to our deep penetration into the gourd-shaped cavern.

The continuous depletion of our equipment and energy forced us to exert every effort to traverse this mountain cave as quickly as possible. Yet, this bizarre cavern was fraught with peril. The further we went, the wider the cavern became, and the plants and insects inside were much larger than those outside. As Shirley Yang had mentioned, insects are the species on Earth with the strongest vitality and lethality. The only reason they haven't dominated the planet is due to the limitation of their small size. If we continued through the cave like this, those flying insects only needed to grow three more sizes; if we were unlucky enough to be bitten, death would be certain—even a Great Immortal would struggle to survive.

It could be said that while we were wavering between advancing and retreating, discovering this fossil altar held immense significance. Our only hope now rested here. If we could glean any clues from the altar to assess our current predicament, we could then decide whether to press on adventurously or retreat the way we came and devise other methods to find a passage into King Xian’s tomb.

I truly couldn't wait any longer, so I said to Shirley Yang, "I recall that the Tang Dynasty Feng Shui master Yuan Tiangang’s Tian Lun (the character for 'six' over the character for 'brother') described scenes of ancient sacrifices to mountain gods, which bear a striking resemblance to this place. This stone altar in the cave is likely not the only one; we might as well search the vicinity. Perhaps we’ll find something else."

Shirley Yang motioned for me to look at the carvings that she and Fatty had just cleared. "This is the last section, two connected pieces. Thank God, the general outline is still visible. Come take a look."

Seeing that Shirley Yang’s expression was rather strange—not clearly happy or worried, but seemingly more puzzled—I handed my tactical flashlight and Jianwei air rifle to Fatty and bent down to examine the polished carvings on the altar.

I steeled myself and watched closely. The artistic style was rugged and imposing, the composition simple, the postures natural, yet highly suggestive. It depicted an incomparably bizarre scene: in the water of the fossil forest, a group of indigenous people, adorned with feathers in their hair, sat in small boats, each holding a long pole. We had seen those very poles and wooden boats after traversing the funerary trench, and at the time, we didn't know their purpose.

Many large toads were tied onto the wooden boats, perhaps captured by these natives nearby, bound tightly with ropes. The large toads had gaping mouths and looked terrified, seemingly extremely worried about the fate awaiting them, struggling with all their might. Though the depiction was simple, it was intensely vivid, immediately conveying the scene to the viewer, saturated with the tragic atmosphere of large-scale sacrifice and slaughter in ancient times.

Under the command of a leader wearing an ox-horn helmet, several feather-crowned natives simultaneously used long poles to lift a large toad, hoisting it into the air and inserting it into a hole in the stone wall of the fossil forest. Thick black smoke billowed out from the hole.

On another wooden boat behind them, several smaller toads were placed, displaying expressions as if they couldn't rest in peace even in death. Their round bodies appeared shriveled, and the color of the carved dead toads differed from that of the living ones, appearing lifeless—somber and terrifying, fully embodying the chasm between life and death.

Upon seeing this, I immediately connected it to the things we witnessed in the Mountain God Temple: the black-faced mountain god was attended by a mountain ghost on each side. One was holding a fiery red stone gourd, and the other was grasping a lively toad. This, it turned out, indicated that the deity guarding this great mountain resided within a gourd-shaped cavern. Furthermore, guided by shamans, the local people captured vast numbers of toads to offer tribute to him.

I asked Shirley Yang, "So you mean our bodies aren't shrinking, but this cave is actually shaped like a gourd, funnel-like? We squeezed in through the narrow gourd mouth opening and are now in the front section of the gourd's belly?"

Shirley Yang nodded. "You've only understood half of it. Although the carvings ahead are blurred, I discovered depictions of the terrain here. The entrance we came through is the bottom of the gourd—an entrance chiseled by humans. Moreover, the Gourd Cave predates King Xian's tomb by far. If we are to pass through this cave to reach King Xian’s tomb at the gourd's mouth, we must crawl into the opening where the natives used long poles to hoist the large toads. Perhaps that Mountain God is still waiting for us inside."

I didn't process it immediately and was completely stunned. "What is the Mountain God waiting for us for? Does he plan to eat us like bullfrogs?"

Fatty said to Shirley Yang, "You don't need to scare us. Besides Chairman Mao, who have we ever respected? I'll take my submachine gun in there for a look. If he obediently clears a path for us, fine. Otherwise, if he angers this old man, I won't say a word and will just blast him with the gun. This Gourd Cave will be surnamed Wang, not Black, from now on."

I snapped back to reality and told Fatty, "What nonsense are you talking of? You take ancient feudal superstitions seriously? I don't believe in any mountain god. I've dug holes in the Kunlun Mountains for years and never found a single one. I think that thing was just some kind of beast living in the cave back then. Those ignorant, oppressed, yet hardworking and brave working people, deluded by the ruling class and crushed by the Three Great Mountains, simply treated that creature as a deity. Such precedents are countless throughout Chinese history."

Fatty mused, "That does make sense. That's why they say knowledge is power. If it was truly some animal worshipped as a god, it might be something like a python. Those things are the most formidable in these deep mountains. We’ve seen snakes eat frogs plenty of times. It’s likely an old python or a big snake."

Fatty and I were suddenly filled with high spirits, feeling that our heroic skills had no outlet. Then we heard Shirley Yang say, "Don't jump to conclusions yet. Look at this final carving. The drowned female corpse is something we just witnessed with our own eyes. That area of the cave might not be empty yet."

I then remembered there was one last carved relief. Looking at it, I saw a black-faced, cold deity—or rather, a deity whose face showed not the slightest hint of life, but instead betrayed a subtle, undetectable malevolence. Surrounding him were countless women, clearly corpses, all lying flat on their backs, arms spread wide to their sides, legs bent in an arc, seemingly crawling on the ground with their joints reversed. The characteristics of the female corpses were identical to the ones we had just seen rise from the water and then suddenly vanish. They were less like corpses and more like vengeful spirits; otherwise, how could we have felt such intense resentment the moment we saw them? I asked in shock, "Could that be a corpse cave? Are there ancient Zongzi thousands of years old that have taken shape and lurk within?"