The candlelight in the corner of the tomb chamber, closest to us, originated from the three candles lit just like the placement of the three demon coffins in the room, arranged in a “△” formation; this was a light I was familiar with—it must have been the three candles Fatty had just lit.

However, to the right of these three candles, two more rows of faint blue light stood vertically against the wall, three in each row. This light was only perceptible in the darkness, a mere indication of light's presence, but the deep blue source offered no illumination whatsoever; the blackness remained as black as before, now merely accented by six dim, spectral blue flames in the profound dark.

The enormous bronze outer coffin, suspended from the copper ring, was emitting rhythmic sounds of copper and iron grinding against each other. I immediately thought this must be the sound of a zombie clawing at the lid inside. Damn it, we’ve run into a reanimated corpse right after entering the Yin Palace! Could it be that when I wiped the accumulated dust off the bronze outer coffin with my hand, the ancient corpse inside sensed the breath of the living? That couldn’t be right; I recall I was wearing gloves.

Then I reconsidered: setting aside the origin of those six ghostly lights, the life lamps of us three Mojin Xiaowei were still burning brightly in their correct positions. Therefore, as of now, there were no signs of corpse reanimation or the presence of vengeful spirits or unsavory entities in this chamber—so what was causing the disturbance?

With this thought, I calmed myself and bellowed into the tomb: “Commander Wang, what kind of junk are you rummaging for now? Get your ass out here, or I’ll have you court-martialed!”

Fatty’s head appeared from the opposite end of the bronze outer coffin, and he asked, “Commander Hu, you looking for me? I found something good on this bronze coffin—looks like gold.” He walked over, holding up a circular metal object.

I took it and saw it was a bronze mirror. I wiped off the dust; the surface remained highly reflective, virtually untarnished by rust. The back, however, was mottled with verdigris, the rim decorated with a ring of golden yanshi stones—these round stones were easily mistaken for actual gold. Despite its dilapidated appearance, the back of the mirror exuded the unique aesthetic of decadent beauty found only in ancient artifacts. Why would a bronze outer coffin hold a bronze mirror? Was it meant to suppress the millennium-old corpse inside? I’d never heard of such a thing. I handed the mirror back to Fatty: “This is a bronze mirror, inlaid with yanshi stone on the back, not gold. Put it back where you found it immediately. We have important matters at hand; don’t waste time on these trivial mingqi.”

Shirley Yang asked Fatty from the side, “How many candles did you light in the southeast corner of the chamber just now?”

Hearing Shirley Yang ask about this, Fatty couldn't help but retort, “Three! I’m a cultured man, for heaven's sake; I can still count, can’t I? Look…” He turned to look and immediately froze, his face going slack. He too saw the six other points of faint blue light besides the three candles—they seemed to be flames too, but because the source was too weak to combust fully, the resulting light was blue, just like will-o'-the-wisps found in desolate graveyards.

Seeing that the six ghostly lights were indeed not Fatty’s doing, I figured there wasn't too much danger as long as the three regular candles kept burning. I decided to go over and take a closer look. The three coffins in the chamber were sturdily built and would take time to open. If there truly was some ominous portent, it was best to nip it in the bud as soon as possible. After all, we hadn't ventured this deep into the burial complex just to be scared off by some trickery or phantom.

The fact that candles could be lit in the chamber meant the oxygen level was gradually increasing. I first swept the area with my flashlight, but in the absolutely dark, deeply buried space, and with some impurities in the air, I couldn't make out anything after sweeping for a long time.

Finding the viewport on my gas mask too thick for clear vision, I temporarily took it off and hung it on my chest, putting on a simpler mask instead. Gripping my IAI, I led Shirley Yang and Fatty over to investigate.

The spot emitting the eerie blue light was beside the chamber door. Since the tomb chamber in this Yin Palace was quite large, the candles Fatty lit in the corner were relatively concentrated, providing very limited light. The distance between the two light sources was about eight or nine meters; neither could illuminate the other.

When we got within five meters of the ghostly lights, the Wolf Eye flashlight beam could clearly illuminate the tomb wall. Upon entering the chamber, our vision had been immediately drawn to the three central coffins. The range of our carried light sources was limited, so we hadn't noticed anything else near the inner chamber's doorway.

The first thing caught in the Wolf Eye’s beam was a grotesque face covered in black scales. This face had no lips, only two rows of exposed, sharp teeth. The faint glow of the spectral fire was emanating directly from its mouth.

The moment Fatty and I saw this repulsive and horrifying visage, our first thought was a malevolent spirit. We forgot to consider whether bullets would be effective, raised the "Chicago Typewriter" we had already cocked, and were about to open fire.

Shirley Yang, possessing night vision that surpassed that of Fatty and me in the dark, suddenly spoke up: “It’s a Black-Scaled Merman… It’s fine, they’re all dead. These are actually the ever-burning lamps and 'candles of rebirth' from the ancient tomb.”

I slowly lowered the muzzle of my raised weapon. We had just been discussing the ever-burning lamps of the underground palace; to run into one immediately upon entry made me quite curious. “Are there really mermaids in this world? Isn't that just an ancient term for manatees?” I took a few more steps closer, wanting to see what this black-scaled merman looked like.

What I saw were two bronze pillars embedded in the tomb wall. On each pillar, six half-human, half-fish mummified corpses were bound in three tiers—top, middle, and bottom. These mermen had the upper bodies of women, complete with two breasts, and very slender necks where gills were located; however, they lacked human skin, covered entirely in sparse, large black scales, except for their undersides.

The corpses seemed to have been specially treated; they were hard and pitch-black, having suffered no decay in the Yin Palace. Chains bound the six mermen through the pipa bones (the interosseous membranes of the wrists), forcing them into a squatting, kneeling posture, locked against the pillars, aligned uniformly from top to bottom. Their mouths were strangely wide open. I shone the Wolf Eye flashlight inside and discovered that the mermen’s throats were plugged with a white substance resembling asbestos, and a piece of tinder was jammed into their dry, stiffened tongues, currently burning with a dim blue light.

Fatty poked the merman corpse with the barrel of his IAI; the body felt rigid: “Not quite the mermaid I imagined, but it wins points for strangeness. Since they’re all dead, there’s no point trying to sell them to a zoo; our Capital Natural History Museum could really use a specimen like this.”

I realized that while the Black-Scaled Merman was bizarre, it was merely an ordinary 'Ever-Burning Candle' in this underground palace—a prop symbolically indicating that although the tomb owner’s physical body had perished, the soul endured. I immediately relaxed, pulled out a cigarette, lit it using the blue flame issuing from the merman’s mouth, blew a smoke ring into Fatty’s face, and said, “Commander Wang, your awareness this time is quite high. You didn't just think of yourself but considered the nation as the greater collective first. If you haul this back to the Natural History Museum, you’ll fill a gap in the field, and maybe even snag a certificate of commendation.”

Shirley Yang told me, “This isn't the first discovery; many people around the world have found merman skeletons, and the US Navy even captured a live one once. It’s said that the oil of deep-sea mermen has a very low ignition point, and just one drop can burn for months without extinguishing. Ancient noble tombs often used their grease as everlasting lamps. However, I’ve never heard of using the entire merman corpse as a candle. I suspect this relates to the legends of the Immortal Mountains during the Qin and Han dynasties being located in the sea.”

I recalled that ancient Chinese burial rites detailed the Ever-Burning Candle extensively, and a sudden heaviness settled in my chest. I said to Shirley Yang, “You only know part of the story, but not the third part. Legend says the East Sea Mermen are the most lustful and bloodthirsty, gathering beneath an island formed of dead coral. Below that island, the coral caves intertwine, bottomless; that is the mermen’s lair. They use sensuous sounds and sights in the nearby waters to lure passing merchant ships, and the victims are eaten until not even bones are left. Anyone who captured a live Black-Scaled Merman would slaughter and dry it, fill it with its own oil, and create an Ever-Burning Candle worth three thousand pearls. I used to hear my grandfather tell these stories; I thought they were just tales, but now it seems they are true. Furthermore, the sealed, stable microenvironment of this tomb chamber has been broken by us. When the tinder encounters air, it ignites. So, these… ghostly lights suddenly flaring up, I find that entirely unsurprising.”

The strangest thing was that there were six of these Ever-Burning Candles. According to burial rites, Ever-Burning Candles were only found in the main tomb chamber, distinct from the Everlasting Lamps—one Ever-Burning Candle corresponded to one important body in the tomb; of course, sacrificial victims did not qualify. For example, a jointly buried husband and wife tomb would often have two Ever-Burning Candles placed before the coffins.

Fatty counted on his fingers: “There are only three coffins in the chamber, plus the three of us alive people—that makes exactly six. Damn their ancestors! Could they have counted us in?”

Shirley Yang shook her head: “Unlikely. I don't think the Offering King would be in these three central coffins. While his outer coffin won't leave the confines of this chamber, it must be deeply hidden. And these three older sets of outer coffins—their skeletons represent the King’s previous lives. Add the Offering King, and that makes four bodies. Old Hu once said the animal carvings on the Three Lives Bridge all came in male and female pairs. This king’s tomb is a joint burial, meaning there should be at least five bodies here. But calculated this way, the number of bodies and Ever-Burning Candles still don't match…”

As she was speaking, a gust of cold wind swept through, and the three candles in the southeast corner of the chamber were abruptly extinguished. A grating sound of fingernails scratching metal came from the bronze outer coffin behind us. In the silent, eerie underground palace, this sound was capable of deeply impacting the human cerebral cortex, inducing an overwhelming sense of primal fear from within. We immediately turned around. Fatty whispered to me, “I swear to Chairman Mao, I didn’t do this one either.”

I replied, “The organization has always believed in you, but now is your moment of testing! Go quickly and see what’s in that bronze outer coffin… Wait, damn it, we really are seeing ghosts! Look at the end of that outer coffin—how have three more large clusters of ghostly fire appeared, lined up in a row? Do we have nine skeletons here?”