As the Fatty was about to ask more, I waved my hand to cut him off. “What’s the matter? Did seeing the coffins scare you off already? Yes, there were legends of Yinzizi coffins and bronze Guos, with warnings not to approach if one’s Bazi isn't strong. But the fact that we passed the Bridge of Three Lives and arrived before the Gate of the Nether Palace proves that the fate of us three is certainly strong enough; otherwise, we would have plummeted into the abyss before even stepping onto the bridge.” The Fatty scoffed, “Nonsense. When has this commander ever been scared? I’ve just never seen a coffin like this—like a tiger staring at a porcupine, not knowing where to sink its teeth.” Truthfully, I also had no idea if our Bazi was strong enough; I was just saying that to bolster the Fatty’s courage. Standing before the archway in the shadowed wall, there was still a considerable distance to the three bizarrely shaped sarcophagi deep within the tomb chamber. Though the illumination flares cast an eerie light, they couldn't reveal fine details, so we could only wait for a moment. Seeing that the door was pried open without triggering any mechanisms, I nodded at inley Yang and the Fatty, signaling that it was safe to enter. inley Yang deployed the “Vajra Umbrella” to lead the way, with the Fatty and me following closely behind. The flare we had shot in earlier hadn't extinguished yet, bathing the dark tomb chamber in bright light. As I had anticipated, this was a very large tomb chamber shaped like the character Hui (). The Nether Palace was divided into inner and outer layers. Inside the white wall was the first layer, and about seven or eight meters away from this wall, another layer of brick wall enclosed the center. The tomb doors on both walls faced each other, and inside the space between them was merely a low, arched doorway, with no gate barring the way. The flare passed straight through, piercing into the deepest chamber. Upon entering the outer door, I first swept my “Wolf Eye” flashlight along both sides. These were the recesses between the two tomb walls, piled high with various giant, grayish-green bronze “sacrificial vessels.” These bronze Pan, bronze Ding, along with the stacked ivory, jade currency, and jade Fu, symbolized the lordly status of the tomb’s occupant.

This was the tomb of a king with the most grave goods I had ever witnessed in my life. These burial items were specially crafted for the deceased, unlike those in the Jingjue Kingdom, where they just heaped in whatever valuable things they found lying around. The practice of elaborate burial reached its zenith during the Han and Tang dynasties. Legend has it that some imperial mausoleums from this era contained over a thousand tons of burial artifacts, equivalent to one-third of the entire state’s treasury at the time. While the funerary objects in this “Xian King’s Tomb” were not as luxurious or numerous as those imperial tombs, they seemed to encompass nearly the entire Dian Kingdom brought into the burial pit. But all these subjects, slaves, and treasures—none were able to ascend to heaven with the Xian King; they all rotted away in this gloomy, sunless subterranean world over two millennia.

I sighed, thinking about how all those valuable old things from China were wasted like this. I quickened my pace, following inley Yang into the inner tomb chamber. The two tomb sections were like the inner and outer cities of an ancient fortification. The deepest chamber was the core of the ancient tomb.

The light from the flare was gradually dimming. The moment we stepped into the chamber, the surroundings plunged into absolute darkness. We immediately turned on the headlamps on our helmets and instantly saw the bronze Guo suspended in mid-air by bronze rings right in front of us. It was the largest of the three sarcophagi and the most prominent. The other two were not hanging from bronze rings.

The bronze Guo was dark and lusterless, covered in a thick layer of accumulated dust. I put on my gloves and brushed off a layer of dust from the Guo. Under the light, its surface immediately reflected a bizarre grayish-green hue. A considerable amount of green verdigris had formed on the bronze. At a casual glance, it looked like it was crawling with thin, pale green centipedes. Upon closer inspection, the bronze Guo was bound by nine heavy seals, tightly secured. Cast onto the exterior were many strange plants. Other than that, there were no more obvious features—it was just big, dark, and heavy. The actual coffin must be inside it. Looking at the other two coffins, one was made of wood. Judging by its style and size, it wasn't a Guo but only a single layer of coffin board. However, this wood was no ordinary material. A rough look suggested the planks were about eight inches thick. The coffin had no lacquer, exposing the natural color of the wood, making it look like charred carbon, yet the wood grain was extremely fine and tough.

inley Yang wondered aloud, “The coffin doesn't seem to have undergone any special processing, but how can such a material exist in this world?” I tapped the lid of the wooden coffin, producing a hollow, resonant sound like a bronze bell. In the chamber, the sound was exceptionally loud and deep. I said to inley Yang, “This is the legendary Yinzizi coffin. Deep in the mountain ravines and shady slopes of old-growth forests, where sunlight never penetrates, there grows a type of carbon-colored strange tree. This tree has never seen sunlight since it started growing. Ordinary trees grow one annual ring each year, but this sunless tree only adds one ring every few decades or even a century. This is called Yinzizi wood. The name is peculiar, describing a tree that grows as if in a cellar.”

The Fatty also reached out to touch that Yinzizi coffin. “Heavens above, if this truly is an Yinzizi coffin, it’s a genuine treasure. I heard this Yinzizi wood is extremely difficult to mature into timber, and to have such thick planks for a coffin, with no other materials added—at today’s market price, it’s worth more than an equivalent volume of gold. If we really can’t find anything else suitable, we could just haul this one back… If we do that, this trip to Yunnan won't just be Saturday volunteer work, don’t you agree?”

I told the Fatty and inley Yang, “Gold can’t compare to this wood. Look how thick these planks are, and they are all made from the best Yinshu core. This has a specific name: Yinmu Duan (—the character is composed of the radicals for wood, metal, and Gen), an eight-inch board. If it weren’t a ten-thousand-year-old Yinzizi tree, how could it have such a thick core? Back in the day, even the Empress Dowager Cixi didn't get this treatment because this tree species had already vanished by the Han Dynasty; no one since has been able to find a tree this stout.” The Fatty urged, “What are we waiting for? Let’s haul it out quickly.”

inley Yang ignored the Fatty and asked me, “That bronze Guo dangling in the chamber is also very special—what’s the story there? And there’s another oddly shaped coffin over there—could this be the Xian King and his two wives?” I shook my head. “I can’t quite make it out now. A bronze Guo is also an anomaly in funerary rites; only major criminals or nobles afflicted with contagious diseases would be sealed in a copper Guo. Another theory is that there were signs of corpse transformation before burial, preventing a zombie from breaking out. Look at the nine heavy locks on this bronze Guo; how hard would it be to open? God knows what’s inside.” inley Yang commented, “I only know that the bronze-horned golden coffin was used to prevent corpse transformation. Is this suspended bronze Guo for the same reason? What’s the meaning of suspending it in the air?” The Fatty chimed in again, “I know this one! We once encountered a human-faced bronze Guo that was much more ferocious than this; Commander Hu nearly wet himself back then. Later, I heard that this type of ring-suspended Guo was specifically used to inter Daoist seekers of immortality, to keep them from absorbing the earth’s impure qi after death. In my estimation, there’s a ninety percent chance this contains that old zombie, the Xian King. He not only failed to achieve immortality but started to putrefy and was about to transform into a fierce corpse, which is why they hung the bronze rings and the bronze Guo in the chamber. We should leave it alone and just carry out this Yinzizi coffin. We’ll never run out of money in our next lifetimes.” I said to inley Yang, “Don't listen to his nonsense; he was the one who nearly wet himself, not me. However, the latter half of what he said is correct: those suspended in the air are usually people from the Daoist path. Bronze Guos are used to contain zombies, but we can’t conclude that the Xian King is inside just yet. There is major complexity to these three coffins; we need to understand it before we act.” We decided to look at the third coffin before deciding how to proceed, so we walked together to the deepest part of the chamber. There sat a seamless stone coffin, crafted from a single block of Jiaoshi (). The stone lid of the Jiaoshi coffin looked exceptionally ancient, almost primitive, adorned with hundreds of interlinked, coiled rings. These circular carvings clustered together to form a black beast, neither dragon nor tiger, exuding an ancient, mysterious aura.

The seamless stone coffin was coated on the outside with a layer of translucent cinnabar lacquer, with the seams sealed within. Yuan Fa recalled that although the Pan Family Circle had many fakes, the information gathered there was immensely rich, exposing him to matters far beyond common knowledge, especially from private collectors who shared a lot of intelligence about various funerary objects that couldn't be found in books. I had personally heard people mention this type of seamless stone coffin more than once; apparently, two had been excavated in Xishan before. However, this stone coffin was noticeably shorter than regular coffins. It was supported underneath by four thick, single-legged stone figures, making it stand taller than the Yinshu coffin. Upon seeing it, the Fatty immediately declared, “This must be the Xian King’s son, a prince, who was buried with his dad before even finishing middle school. He doesn't need a diploma now, right? Waiting to ascend to immortality together?” inley Yang countered, “Impossible. I’ve never heard of anyone having their own children buried with them—even tigers don’t eat their cubs.” I explained to the two of them, “This isn’t some prince or grandson. The reason this stone coffin is short is likely because it doesn't contain a complete corpse. During the Warring States period, as rival states contended and a hundred schools of thought flourished, burial culture also diversified. There was Pinzhi Zang (limb-joint burial) and Suizang (fragmented burial), as well as Quanzang (crouched burial), Fushen Zang (prone burial), Shuizang (squatting burial), Xuan (suspended), Ce Wo Zang (side-lying burial), and so on. Different understandings of death led to different ways of interring the body. This should be a stone coffin for Quanzang, and the Jiaoshi stone is no ordinary material—it’s a rare kind of Liangshi, with a texture like water jade. The body inside must have belonged to someone with status in life.” However, the practice of Quanzang had died out by the time of Emperor Wu of Han; whether it survived in southern Dian was uncertain. The problem was that while these three coffins were all extremely peculiar, they were utterly incomparable, and though they shared the same chamber, they seemed utterly unrelated. I figured I wouldn't understand it by thinking, so opening them all up was the only way. I had the Fatty go to the corner near the entrance to light three candles, and then we would start with the most valuable one—the “Yinzizi Coffin.” Even if the Xian King had decomposed into dust, the Muchen Zhu should still be inside the coffin.

As the Fatty was lighting the candles, I saw the flames of the three candles flicker to life, illuminating the gloomy corner of the chamber, and suddenly something struck me: the Bridge of Three Lives, and three coffins?

While I was deep in thought, I heard inley Yang say to me, “I just remembered the Bridge of Three Lives we passed at the gate of the Nether Palace. It’s possible the remains in these three coffins don't all belong to the Xian King. But it might not be the one we’re looking for—the Xian King with the Phoenix Gall. Perhaps he excavated the coffins in this tomb from other ancient graves; maybe he determined, through some means, that these were the skeletons of his previous lives.” I pondered for a moment and replied, “Yes, that makes it easier to understand. The three sarcophagi don't belong to the same era but represent the Xian King’s three lives on earth. Chinese Daoism has always held legends of immortal cultivation through three lives; these first three lives are called the Three Hells, and the final death in each is often agonizing. That’s why such special containers were used for the burial. The true Xian King must be hidden somewhere in this chamber… Hey, the two of us were so busy looking at these three demonic coffins, why hasn’t the Fatty, who went to the corner to light candles, come back yet? Three… six… nine… three candles in the corner. Why did this bastard light so many? Where is he?”

inley Yang made a gesture for me to lower my voice. “Are you listening? Is there a sound coming from the bronze coffin?”