Iron Bull taucht wieder auf

Kapitel 22

Tiger and Song Jiu were like old monks in deep meditation, their eyes completely focused on the chessboard, without even lifting their eyelids.

I was somewhat surprised by Tang Xin's action of dyeing her nails, because I imagined that although the Tang Clan of Sichuan existed in the 21st century, it should still abide by the strange rules passed down by the masters of the clan over the generations, which should have nothing to do with the makeup and dressing up of girls in the real world.

She had already painted half of her nails with a bottle of pink nail polish from an international brand in France.

To be fair, Tang Xin is undeniably a stunningly beautiful girl, slender and delicate, embodying the current new generation of beauty standards in Eastern cities. If she were to remove her "Tang Clan of Sichuan" identity and instead enter the Chinese film and television industry with this gentle, fragile beauty, why wouldn't she become another "Zhang Ziyi"?

When I think of the Tang Clan of Sichuan, which has caused bloodshed and chaos in the Chinese martial arts world for over a thousand years, I can't help but feel uneasy and add the terrifying adjective "beautiful as a peach blossom, poisonous as a snake" to Tang Xin.

"Mr. Feng, that expert conference has finished. Do you have any suggestions?" Tang Xinwen asked in a refined manner, as she painted the last of her little fingernails.

I strolled over to Tang Xin's desk, smiling subtly: "Miss Tang, you must have heard of the name Beren Lang, right?"

Tang Xin smiled: "Yes, I've heard of it. Mr. Feng means that with Berenlang here, our Tang Clan in Sichuan doesn't need to worry about the poisonous insects and miasma inside the pyramid, right?"

We looked at each other and laughed heartily; all the scheming and intrigue was left unsaid.

She finished painting her nails, carefully screwed the small bottle of nail polish on tightly, then sighed with satisfaction and gently blew on her neat, long nails. At that moment, her expression was completely like that of a trusting little sister next door, which made me lower my guard as well.

I held out my hand to the nail polish, smiling, "Let me see what brand this is—"

Tang Xin made a mischievous, threatening face: "Hey, Mr. Feng, you'd better not touch this thing. It's an improved substitute for the 'Intestinal Corrosion and Corpse Dissolving Pill'—"

My outstretched arm froze in mid-air, and the smile on my face turned as stiff as a fossil. However, this stillness had its advantages; I could clearly hear Dr. Tang's booming American English voice, full of laughter and conversation. I knew that Suren had been outside, constantly monitoring the expert team's every move, which conveniently gave Dr. Tang the opportunity to curry favor.

"I'm not lying to you, really." Tang Xin walked out with a smile, and returned in less than half a minute, holding a desert scorpion in her right hand.

I twisted my cervical and lumbar vertebrae forcefully and took two steps back, trying to relax the stiff muscles in my body.

The "Intestine-Penetrating, Bone-Corpse-Dissolving Pill" that Tang Xin just mentioned is a "specialty" passed down through generations of the Tang Clan in Sichuan. True to its name, it boasts three miraculous effects: "penetrating the intestines, corroding bones, and dissolving corpses." If it's an "improved version," it won't be as incredibly magical as Dr. Tang's "gas explosive," will it?

According to research by human physiologists, human intelligence doubles every six months, and during the twenty-two years between the ages of eighteen and forty, the rate of intellectual growth is more than three times faster. It is precisely for this reason that human technology continues to improve, innovate, and evolve, with each new generation surpassing the last.

"Mr. Feng, look at this poor little fellow, compared to our Tang Clan's improved products..."

The scorpion's carapace was a deep yellow with a hint of black, and in the center of the carapace was a patch the size of a thumbnail that had turned almost black. Judging from its enormous size, nearly two inches long, it was close to two years old, making it the most ferocious adult male scorpion in the colony.

The shade of the back cover indicates the strength of its toxicity; the faintly blackish part is its venom reservoir.

“I know that a milliliter of venom from an adult male scorpion, if dripped into a deep well in the desert, would be enough to kill the people, livestock, and camels of ten oases, but look, it's now terrified of my fingernails—”

Sure enough, under Tang Xin's pink fingernails, the scorpion obediently curled up into a ball, its tail stinger and two pincers on its front claws also tucked obediently under its body.

"Mr. Feng, I'm not bragging, but the poisons developed by our Tang Clan are unmatched worldwide. And our laboratory equipment is the most advanced in the world. If you have time, you can ask Berrenlang who his Russian master admires most among the Earthlings."

Tang Xin's words carried a faint sadness of a hero whose talents are not recognized. I wonder what she meant by her last sentence. I should really ask Berrenlang about it when I have time.

Suddenly, the scorpion, which had clearly submitted completely, leaped up with lightning speed, wielding its stinger and stabbing it viciously into the back of Tang Xin's hand. It was indeed afraid of the venom on Tang Xin's fingernails, but the muscles on the back of her hand couldn't possibly be coated with venom; the scorpion's change of tactics was undeniably clever.

This attack method also verifies the hypothetical theory that "desert scorpions are animals with advanced intelligence."

Tang Xin smiled bitterly and shook her hand, a drop of purplish-black blood oozing from the small hole where she had been stung. The scorpion had already retreated in panic, falling off the table, seemingly trying to escape towards the tent entrance. However, after landing, it only crawled half a meter unsteadily before collapsing to one side as if drunk, revealing half of its slightly pale belly.

"It...is dead? The scorpion was...poisoned to death by you?" I stared at Tang Xin in shock. This kind of scene, which I only ever saw in martial arts novels, was actually happening right in front of me. The venom contained in Tang Xin's body was more potent than that arrogant and domineering adult desert scorpion. The moment it stung Tang Xin, the venomous blood rushed back, and it was the one that was poisoned.

I scratched the back of my head, staring blankly and grinning foolishly.

Even with extensive travel and extensive reading, one's understanding of the Tang Clan in Sichuan is not as clear as the "battle between man and scorpion" that just unfolded.

I quietly took another step back, and my understanding of the four words "Tang Clan of Sichuan" suddenly deepened tenfold. I even wondered if I would have nightmares tonight.

“Mr. Feng, we have come here because we admire Mr. Scalpel’s reputation. We do not want to cause trouble. We are truly sincere.”

The Second Part: Underground Horror

— Chapter 18 — Another Mysterious Disappearance —

The meaning of "sincerity" is quite clear: if I and the scalpel don't obediently offer up the "millennial corpse worms," the Tang Clan of Sichuan will definitely not let it go.

"Thank you for your sincerity. I believe Mr. Scalpel has also felt the utmost sincerity from your entire organization—"

I know there's really nothing to talk about with Tang Xin. Discussing humanity and morality with a group of people who are always associated with drugs is pointless. I just hope that once they obtain the "Millennium Corpse Worm," they won't use it to create horrific biological weapons.

If the strange events and eccentric figures that occurred throughout China's vast five-thousand-year history could be compiled into a book, it would surely leave the so-called "encyclopedias" of the world speechless. Compared to the history of the Chinese people, their knowledge is truly insignificant.

For example, a few years ago, a drug-making cult in Brazil caused varying degrees of pollution to the main streams of eleven rivers across South America. The mortality rate among residents who drank the river water was as high as one percent, drawing serious attention from the World Health Organization. This is already a serious event in the global history of poisoning, isn't it? But if the Tang Clan of Sichuan were to do this, the mortality rate among the river residents would likely reach a record high of over 50%, or even 100%, which wouldn't be difficult to achieve.

The Tang Clan of Sichuan has been feared throughout the ages, and its reputation for instilling terror in the martial arts world is not based on mere hearsay.

At this point, I think the people outside had made all the preparations to enter the tomb, because it was obvious that all the noise had subsided.

"A grand event spanning millennia, Mr. Feng, wouldn't you like to be the first to enter the tomb and take a look?" Tang Xin took a tissue and carefully wiped her gleaming fingernails. Fingernails coated with potent venom were enough to lure desert scorpions into hiding; if they were to pierce human skin, or even just be stirred lightly into a person's drink, the consequences would be...

Outside, only the sound of the wind could be heard.

I shook my head: "I'm not interested. Besides, the tunnel is narrow, and too many people going down would just get in the way."

Tang Xin frowned, smiling with a hint of regret: "Not interested? Or perhaps you dare not?"

Tiger and Song Jiu sat with their heads down, completely oblivious to what was happening inside the tent.

"It's just a game of chess, why take it so seriously?" I avoided Tang Xin's aggressive demeanor and retreated behind the tiger.

He was holding a black stone between his right index and middle fingers, about to place it on the board. This gesture was a habit he retained from his time as a professional Go player, exactly the same as the gestures used by Nie Weiping and Ma Ying-jeou in the televised broadcast.

Twelve stones were already placed on the board, and I was surprised to find that their rules of play followed the ancient Go masters' method of "first setting up the pieces." Four stones—two black and two white—were already placed in the four corner "star" positions. Furthermore, all the attacks were centered around a single black stone in the very center of the board, the "Tengen" position.

The way of Go has always followed the value estimation method of "gold corners, silver edges, grass belly" from ancient times to the present. Placing a stone in the center of the board, "Tengen", has no practical value other than showing the player's arrogance.

After the tiger placed that piece, the corners of the board were empty, with both black and white players entangled in a small central area. Any player with more than two years of chess experience would never have ended up in such a situation.

Suddenly, Gu Ye's voice blared from the camp's loudspeakers: "Mr. Bancha, Master Kudie... Mr. Bancha, Master Kudie, please get to the derrick location immediately after hearing my voice... get to the derrick location immediately..."

With the drilling operation about to begin, Tanino would naturally be among the first to enter the tunnel and witness firsthand the spectacular sight of drilling through the outer wall of the tomb. To ensure that control of the camp wouldn't be seized by others, he would naturally require Bancha to oversee the work on the surface.

However, judging from his broadcast, it seems that Bancha suddenly disappeared, and that he disappeared along with the mysterious Master Kudie.

Suren practically floated in, the tent flap rustling open before she was already standing beside me, her footsteps barely audible. Her display of exceptional lightness of movement didn't attract much attention from Tang Xin, as if all martial arts in the world were insignificant in Tang Xin's eyes.

I know something strange must have happened outside, otherwise Su Lun wouldn't have used his extraordinary lightness skill in broad daylight.

"Brother Feng, Bancha has gone missing..."

I slapped the back of my head; I had already vaguely guessed it from listening to the radio.

"In fifteen minutes, the special forces had thoroughly searched every corner within a one-kilometer radius of the camp, but the Thai man and the mysterious Buddhist master he brought with him had vanished as if evaporated, leaving no trace." Suren's face was somewhat pale, because we all thought of Miss Tengjia, who had also mysteriously disappeared.

The roar emanating from the loudspeaker was mixed with Gu Ye's suppressed, violent breathing, a mixture of intense anxiety and nameless fear.

If such mysterious disappearances happen one after another, who knows when it might happen to him? How could he not be afraid?

Only Tang Xin, Tiger, and Song Jiu remained uninvolved in this matter, as if all the grave digging, searching, and treasure hunting had nothing to do with them. All they had to do was play chess and chat in this comfortable tent, and then calmly obtain the "Millennial Corpse Worm" before leaving.

Suren glanced at the chessboard, then quickly looked away and winked at me.

The two people playing chess were a bit strange, and the game itself was even stranger—even after I left the tent with Suren, I couldn't stop thinking about Go. After all, the perspective data of the Turkhan Pyramid showed that the floor plan of the burial chambers, with nineteen rooms on each side, was coincidentally identical to a Chinese Go board.

We quickly bypassed several dilapidated workers' tents and went to a corner where no one could see us.

Suren stopped, her face gloomy: "Brother Feng, I'm wondering if Bancha's disappearance is related to the strange cylindrical opening in the tunnel you discovered?"

During our previous exchange of information, I gave a detailed account of my strange experience entering the tunnel last time.

Upon hearing this, the words "Hidden Mist One-Sword Style" immediately popped into my mind: "The cave entrance? The assassins of the Hidden Mist One-Sword Style? Could it be that those ninjas appeared at this exact moment? But, since we initially thought they were reinforcements deliberately hidden by Bancha, how could they possibly have attacked Bancha?"

“The entrance to the shaft is heavily guarded; no one can enter undetected—this is completely different from Miss Tengjia’s disappearance route.” Suren stared westward toward the direction of the Tuli Khan Pyramid, anxiously tugging at the hair that fell across his forehead.

I crouched down, unconsciously tracing lines in the sand with my fingers, my mind racing. Soon, another line of thought appeared: "Bancha knew about the strange cave entrance, then led Master Kudie into the tunnel from there, and then..."

And then what? I began to chuckle softly and bitterly: "After he goes down into the tunnel, will he, like Miss Fujika, transform into a gentle breeze or a wisp of smoke and enter the pyramid through some unseen crack?"

If these plot points were a cinematic montage technique, I could believe it, and the audience could accept it. But the fact is, there was no film script, let alone a montage technique to deceive the audience.

“Brother Feng, I’ve looked up Master Kudie’s information. You might be a little surprised—” Su Lun also squatted down, grabbed a handful of sand, and watched the grains of sand slowly slip through his fingers.

Gu Ye's voice stopped, and his extremely frustrated and panting voice came from the loudspeaker.

Time ticked by, and if it got to dusk, today's plan to go down the mine would have to be postponed.

I looked up, and Suren continued without stopping: "I obtained his body hair, sweat, dandruff, and then scanned and transmitted them to..." She vaguely omitted the name of the mysterious organization, and the details of how she obtained Master Kudie's body samples in such a short time were naturally unimportant. However, from these imaginable details, I could deduce that she had received some kind of sophisticated espionage training.

"The feedback indicates that all his DNA characteristics are 100% similar to those of a high-ranking Thai monk—"

I waved her off, laughing disbelievingly, "One hundred percent? You're kidding! Since the discovery of DNA signatures, there have never been two completely identical human samples in the world. The closest similarity we've ever seen is the 'conjoined twins' found in Mexico two years ago, whose only connection was their right hand's five fingers. Even in that case, the test data still showed a difference of one in forty million."

Although I don't have the magical ability to "remember everything I see", I have studied these strange materials countless times and they are stored in my brain like computer data, which I can access instantly.

Suren looked at me calmly. She had already said "I would be surprised," so my reaction was to be expected.

"For them to be 100% identical, they would have to be the same person—"

At this point, a strange thought suddenly flashed from the depths of my brainwaves: "Huh? The same person, unless, unless, unless..."

I couldn't continue, so Suren picked up where I left off: "Unless this person is that Buddhist monk."

"Chen Jian? The Thai high monk Master Chen Jian?" I couldn't help but jump up like a frog, kicking up a cloud of sand, and then slumped heavily to the ground like a deflated balloon.

Such a conclusion is too absurd and too bizarre.

An eighty-year-old reclusive monk, meditating in seclusion, miraculously appeared in the Egyptian desert, transforming into a much younger person. Time, space, age, physique, and name all changed; everything was entirely different except for his strange, differently colored eyes.

DNA testing is the essence of modern science. If DNA strands are indeed found to be 100% identical, it is not impossible that Master Kudie and Master Chenjian are the same person.

"Withered Butterfly, Sinking Cocoon? Sinking Cocoon, Withered Butterfly? Could these two names foreshadow the idea of being trapped in a cocoon and then reborn as a butterfly?"

The Second Underground Horror

— Chapter 19 — A Peaceful Beginning —

If Chen Jian is indeed the master of Ku Die, then what does this incredible fact prove?

Buddhism flourished in Thailand, and many eminent monks spent decades meditating in seclusion to comprehend Buddhist teachings, leaving behind thousands of miraculous legends about "attaining enlightenment and ascending to heaven."

“Brother Feng, I think Chen Jian must have either ‘rejuvenated’ or ‘been reborn after death.’” Su Lun’s words were tinged with helplessness, because there were too many incredible things in the long history of humankind on Earth, and most of the topics about life, death, reincarnation, and rebirth had no definite answers.

Silence fell over the derrick, and all the workers were waiting for Tanino's command.

Recalling that fleeting encounter with Master Kudie, I pieced together every detail and found the most suspicious aspect to be his all-seeing gaze. That gaze had nothing to do with the "wisdom and profound insight" of a peerless monk; instead, it revealed an incredibly powerful aura of wickedness.

I slapped the ground hard and gave the most apt analogy: "Suren, the look in Master Kudie's eyes at that time could be best described as 'the serpent in the Garden of Eden'."

The sentence was quite obscure, but Suren's eyes darted around and she understood what I meant: "You mean, he seems to be constantly tempting others to do something..."

Suren is really clever. That's exactly what I meant, because I suspect that Bancha was tempted by some kind of master Kudie, which is why he suddenly disappeared from the camp.

Of course, if it were me, and the person I trusted most suggested "entering the cemetery through another secret passage," I would immediately drop everything and go with him.

The most reasonable explanation is that Bancha was lured down the tunnel by Master Kudie.