Chapter 6: Phantoms of the Corpse Cave

Wu Xie used a bottle to flip the lower half of the corpse beetle over. Attached to its tail was a fist-sized, hexagonal copper seal-bell, densely engraved with incomprehensible incantations that emitted a faint, greenish glow.

Wu Xie gave it a light flick, and the hexagonal bell began to chime on its own, producing the exact same mind-befuddling sound they had heard earlier. Perhaps because the space was confined, the sound was much clearer now.

Pan Zi, irritated by the noise, raised his foot to crush it.

Zhang Wuxun quickly intercepted him, reaching out to point at the copper bell. "This is a good item; it’s worth quite a bit."

Because Pan Zi had nearly caused Little Third Master to fall into danger due to his own mistake, and Zhang Wuxun had just saved him, Pan Zi—a man who always clearly distinguished between debts of gratitude and grudges—held a favorable opinion of him. Seeing him intervene, he stopped.

Wu San Ye, intent on testing Zhang Wuxun’s skills, remarked, "It may be valuable, but we can't have this thing ringing constantly. It’s making my head spin."

Zhang Wuxun replied readily, "I have a way."

With that, he turned and retrieved two pairs of latex gloves from a small pocket on his backpack. He put them on one layer over another, thoroughly protecting his hands, then took out a small case. He opened it to reveal a very thin steel wire with a small hook at one end.

Once prepared, Zhang Wuxun gripped the hexagonal bell, signaled for Pan Zi to use his dagger to cut the connection between the bell and the tail, and then proceeded to rinse the bell repeatedly in the stream water.

The others were baffled by his actions.

Wu Xie asked, "What is it? Is the bell poisonous? If so, we should just throw it away."

"Not at all." Zhang Wuxun didn't look up. Holding the bell with one hand, he inserted the hooked end of the thin wire into a hidden hole in the rim of the bell. With a deft hook and a click, the bell ceased its ringing. Simultaneously, a small trickle of green liquid leaked out, smelling particularly foul.

Zhang Wuxun wrinkled his nose in disgust, withdrew the hook, and explained, "I just find it filthy."

In the original era, his Zhang family had already been recruited and brought under state control. Although their profession remained the same, the nature of it had changed; they received government pay to help archaeological teams explore difficult ancient tombs and retrieve artifacts for experts to study. They even had insurance and benefits, their lives were guaranteed, and they were sometimes awarded medals of honor. His habit of wearing gloves was partly due to work practice and partly due to a slight touch of germaphobia.

His family possessed a hexagonal copper bell as well, which he had studied countless times. He knew its internal mechanisms by heart, and this bell’s construction was largely similar.

Zhang Wuxun rinsed the bell and the hook in the stream again, placed them on the boat deck, removed one layer of gloves, and took out the bottle of alcohol spray he had used earlier, spraying the bell and the hook vigorously.

Everyone was rendered speechless.

After spraying, Zhang Wuxun took a self-sealing bag from the side pocket of his backpack, turned the opening halfway inside out over his hand, used it to pick up the bell, and then flipped the bag back over to seal it shut. Finally, he picked up the hook and placed it into another transparent flat box.

Curious, Wu Xie asked, "Why not just put it away?"

Zhang Wuxun glanced at him and explained, "The disinfection wasn't thorough enough just now; I can't contaminate my other tools."

Wu Xie’s mouth twitched. "Are you that much of a germaphobe?"

"Not really," Zhang Wuxun said, packing up his bag. "Just a tiny bit, plus a tiny bit of obsessive-compulsive disorder."

Seeing Zhang Wuxun resolve the bell issue with such ease, Wu San Ye’s estimation of him rose further.

The boatman’s body, mangled by the corpse beetles, floated half-submerged on the water, dead as dead could be.

Pan Zi fished the body out and spat, "This is what you call reaping what you sow."

Wu Xie felt relieved as well. "We’re lucky."

Zhang Wuxun chuckled to himself, thinking that someone with Wu Xie's constitution—where every coffin he encounters has a waking corpse, and every tomb he opens collapses—shouldn't be talking about luck.

With that episode over, the group placed the large corpse beetle and the boatman’s body at the bow of the boat to clear the way and continued inward.

After traveling a distance, the young man suddenly pointed ahead. "We’ve reached the Land of Accumulated Corpses."

Zhang Wuxun felt a shiver of tension, knowing that greater danger lay ahead. His fingers twitched, readying a throwing dart. Although the young man was formidable—enough to make demons and ghosts kneel—one could never be too careful.

Wu San Ye also pulled out his weapon and held it ready, saying solemnly, "Stay alert. This place is strange. Aim before you fire."

Pan Zi and the others nodded, drawing their weapons in preparation.

The boat drifted further in. The green light ahead grew brighter, and the space widened significantly; at the very least, they didn't have to hunch over anymore.

Zhang Wuxun’s ears twitched; he heard the young man standing at the bow swear in German. The translation of what he said was quite eloquent.

Then came the chorus of curses from Pan Zi and the others. Wu Xie, out of curiosity, leaned over to take a look and was nearly scared stiff.

The shallows on both sides of the river were piled high with greenish, skeletal, rotting corpses, crawling with corpse beetles of all sizes. They were writhing in dense masses, devouring the remains—a sight enough to make anyone’s scalp crawl.

On the cliff wall above the rotting corpses hung a translucent, greenish crystal coffin. Inside seemed to be a figure in white, but it was too far away to tell if it was male or female.

"There’s one over here, too." Pan Zi shone his flashlight, and upon closer inspection, it was an empty coffin.

Every person present now had the same question in their hearts: Where the hell did the corpse go?

The river channel turned.

Da Kui looked as if his soul were about to fly out of his body. His teeth chattered uncontrollably, and he could barely speak. "B... Big Zombie!"

Cold sweat broke out on Wu San Ye’s forehead. He reached back and shouted, "Da Kui! Quickly, give me the black donkey hoof from the bag! The oldest one you have!"

Receiving no response after a long wait, he turned his head to see that Da Kui had already rolled his eyes and fainted on the deck.

"Damn you!" Wu San Ye was stunned.