Chinese New Year

Chapter 1

There's no news about who's that.

In the past, when I wrote my journal, I had a routine of putting a news article at the beginning. This was because the story I was about to tell was closely related to that news article. Sometimes it was a secret behind the news article, and sometimes it was an event that the news article triggered. In short, it was helpful for everyone to see the news article at the beginning so that they could understand the story that followed. In addition, it also let everyone know that what I was telling, although it seemed unbelievable, was not made up.

But this time it wasn't used; it was an exception.

What I want to talk about today is the origin of Na Duo's journal. Without this incident, perhaps you wouldn't be reading these journal entries. This incident wasn't caused by any news. Although to clarify this matter, I would have to cite some real news stories at certain times, but not now.

This whole affair began in early July 2001. The reason I'm only writing this now is simple: I've only just figured out what actually happened. No matter how good someone's communication skills are, they still need to understand what they want to say before they can tell others.

The summer of 2001 in Shanghai was scorching. For reporters who were often out on the front lines, the heat was more unbearable than the cold. Often, after a summer of reporting, they were like completely different people, as if they had shed a layer of skin. Of course, seasoned veterans were an exception. At that time, I was certainly not a seasoned veteran; on the contrary, I was a complete novice in the field of journalism. Because I had just signed a "contract" with the Morning Star, becoming a formal reporter, and I hadn't even received my press card yet. I had to go out to interviews with my work ID and business cards, but fortunately, most of the time, business cards were enough.

At that time, although I was just a newly signed newcomer, I considered myself somewhat experienced. After all, I had been interning at the Morning Star since my junior year, spending far more time reporting news there than at school, not to mention my senior year. I had become a familiar face to all the reporters and editors at the newspaper, and my writing skills were no longer those of a clueless novice. In fact, regardless of my initial status, the income of a good intern reporter at the Morning Star wasn't much different from that of a full-time reporter, because the largest part of the income came from article fees. The Morning Star and other emerging metropolitan newspapers were quite good at rewarding hard work. For me, the biggest benefit of becoming a full-time employee was that I had my own territory.

Back when I was writing news reports after an interview, I had to wait for the reporters to have a break, see which computer was available, and quickly greet them with a smile, asking to borrow it. After finishing the article, I had to ask them to upload it to the newspaper's internal interview network. To avoid making others impatient, I often wrote it on paper first and then typed it into the computer as quickly as possible. Sometimes I had to "move around" halfway through writing; it was incredibly frustrating.

After I become a full-time employee, I will have a proper desk, a small space enclosed by partitions, a swivel chair, a movable cabinet, and most importantly, a computer on the desk that is exclusively for my use.

I was lucky; the newspaper was purchasing a new batch of office equipment, so everything from the computers to the mobile cabinets was brand new, which made my colleagues quite envious. However, I wasn't so lucky when it came to assigning the wardrobes. I found my own wardrobe, opened it, and while the clothes rack was okay, the adjacent compartments were a mess, piled with belongings of unknown owners. Xiao Wu from the general affairs department, who assigned me the wardrobe, said that it hadn't been used for a while, the previous owner had long since left, so I could do whatever I wanted with the things inside.

What to do? Of course, keep the good stuff and throw everything else away. But smelling the slight musty odor coming from inside, I doubt I can still find something I want inside.

Yes, the reason you can see so many of my notes here is because of this compilation.

By then, I had already had some experiences different from most people. During my intermittent year-long internship as a reporter, although I hadn't encountered any earth-shattering events, there were still a couple of experiences that were enough to garner casual conversation and leave most people puzzled. I don't know why, but once I became a reporter, I naturally noticed many details that others wouldn't pay attention to. Or perhaps trouble was just destined to stumble upon me, and I wasn't used to avoiding it. After a few such incidents, like some veteran reporters, I became increasingly distrustful of appearances. Who knows what lay beneath the surface of this seemingly orderly social machine?

However, having strange experiences doesn't mean I have to write them down and tell others. Of course, I have the urge to write them down, but I'm already tired from writing news all day, so why add new pressure to myself? Most importantly, how many people will believe me if I write it down?

Between the hesitation of writing and not writing, perhaps just adding a little weight could immediately change the situation. But what happened to me next was not as simple as just adding a little weight.

Because I actually saw a template.

The cabinet had three compartments from top to bottom, each one a mess. Some boxes looked quite nice, but when you opened them, they were all artificial crystal ornaments given away by some company when it opened. They were the most useless kind of gifts, with shapes ranging from a building to Shanghai's iconic Oriental Pearl Tower and several bridges. They were usually carried back to the newspaper office with great care and then left aside. If they were displayed solemnly on a table, they would definitely be secretly ridiculed.

Besides the useless gifts, there were some rather technical books, such as customs tax forms and books on appearance regulations. It's easy to imagine that this senior colleague must have handled these kinds of matters in the past, but they were completely useless to me, so I swept them into the trash without hesitation. I did keep some blank stationery and envelopes, though. When I got to the last compartment, I found a hardcover notebook.

It was a black hardcover notebook, which I casually flipped open.

I happen to need an interview notebook like this. If this notebook hasn't been used before, I'll keep it for myself without hesitation.

It had been used. It was almost completely filled. I flipped through it from back to front, all the way to the first page, and instinctively closed the notebook. But then I jerked it open again. Because just moments before, I'd seen my own name.

If you search for "Na Duo" on Google, you'll find a lot of results like "Na Duo is great," because these two characters have so many combinations besides being used in names. So, while I was a little surprised, I wasn't too astonished. However, I still felt a little curious to take another look.

When I turned back to the first page and saw the first few words, my brows furrowed involuntarily.

"The Lost Night in the Notebook of Na Duo".

I believe many people will be very surprised to see this. To be honest, I wasn't too surprised at the time, because I hadn't started writing Na Duo's notes yet, so seeing this title didn't evoke any particular feeling other than the name Na Duo.

However, such a title was enough to keep me reading.

The fluent writing, the fantastical story, and the growing doubts in my mind compelled me to stand by the wardrobe and read through this less than 10,000-word journal in one go. By the time I finally looked up, my neck was incredibly sore.

The following is the full text of this journal entry. I am now certain that there will be no copyright issues with publishing the full text, and this journal entry is definitely attractive enough to keep you reading it in one go.

Na Duo's Notes: A Lost Night Unveils the Mystery of the Thousand-Year-Old Underground Palace. In the early hours of March 11th, Xizhao Mountain in Hangzhou was unusually restless. What treasures are hidden within the underground palace of the thousand-year-old Leifeng Pagoda? A mystery sealed for a thousand years awaits to be revealed.

The excavation work began at 9:00 a.m. Nearly a hundred news media outlets from the province and from all over the country, including Beijing, Shanghai, Jinan, and Zhengzhou, focused their cameras on the entrance to the underground palace of this famous Buddhist pagoda.

The Wu-Yue Underground Palace has withstood over 1000 years of weathering. Measurements show the palace is 2.6 meters below the ground level of the first level of the pagoda. The entrance was sealed with a square stone slab, upon which rested a 750-kilogram boulder. Today, the boulder was lifted using the most primitive method: iron chains and ropes. Amidst the clanging of the chains, the millennia-old boulder slowly awoke. As it rose gently, the palace, its entrance firmly sealed by the red earth of Xizhao Mountain, opened.

The millennium-old underground palace was finally within reach, but the stone slab covering the entrance was a thousand years old. Opening it from either side risked shattering the stone. So the experts decided to first pry away the small pieces that were originally cracked, and then lift the whole slab.

At 11:18 AM, the stone slab was successfully opened. The veil of a thousand years was finally lifted, revealing a rusty iron box and a Buddha statue, exciting everyone present. However, because the underground palace had been flooded, the buried artifacts were scattered and stuck in the mud, making them impossible to move. People regretfully couldn't sell them on the spot; what exactly was inside this iron box, hidden for a thousand years?

Zhejiang Daily, March 12, 2001

Having spent four years of university idly, and not even graduating with a journalism degree, I was quite surprised to be hired by this well-known Shanghai newspaper. Before applying, I didn't have high hopes, after all, it was rumored to be dominated by Fudan University graduates; to stay in the news department without exceptional talent, one needed connections. Perhaps this is just fate; in any case, I'm now a reporter.

Since all the departments were already full (I've always wondered why they were hiring when there were no departments to fill), I had no fixed sources of news leads, and I became a wanderer. Any breaking news or major event was assigned to me to report on—a huge burden, definitely a thankless job. However, my colorful and eventful journalistic career began from there.

With the 80th anniversary of the founding of the Communist Party of China approaching, as a mainstream media outlet in Shanghai, we began preparing related reports well in advance, according to convention and requirements from higher authorities. My assigned task this time was to conduct an interview with Feng Lide.

Feng Lide, 48 years old this year, is in his prime. A rising star in the domestic archaeological field, he has presided over many major archaeological projects, such as the excavation of the Leifeng Pagoda underground palace in Hangzhou this March, which enjoys a high reputation both at home and abroad.

My habit when conducting interviews is to gather as much information as possible about the person beforehand, and then choose a starting point. For interviewing Feng Lide, the starting point was undoubtedly the archaeological excavation of the Leifeng Pagoda underground palace that he had just led a few months prior.

However, when I went to Feng Lide's personal webpage to search for more information I wanted, I discovered a strange and interesting phenomenon.

Feng Lide's personal website has a name that perfectly matches his profession: Gate to the Ages. This "Gate to the Ages" is quite well-known in the industry because it not only features Feng Lide's latest academic papers but also has an exceptionally active archaeology BBS. As the moderator, Feng Lide frequently answers various questions raised by archaeology enthusiasts on the BBS, making it increasingly popular.

However, when I searched for questions and answers related to the successful archaeological excavation of Leifeng Pagoda in March of this year, I found that the questions and answers were disproportionate. It seems that in the beginning, Feng Lide was very happy to answer netizens' questions about Leifeng Pagoda, but not long after, he completely stopped answering such questions.

Feng Lide's silence began with a question from a netizen named King Solomon.

The question is as follows: Professor Feng, I heard that you did not return to the camp to sleep on the night of March 11. Where were you? Were you conducting archaeological work at the site?

Feng Lide replied that he was going to visit a friend in the city that evening. After that, he fell completely silent.

I made a note in my notebook; it might come in handy during the interview.

Three days later, in Beijing.

I met him in Feng Lide's study.

A buzz cut, bronze skin, a high nose, eyes that still held a sparkle despite being tired, and slender hands. This was my first impression of Feng Lide.

I noticed a book lying on his desk. I glanced at it and saw it was Feng Menglong's "Stories to Awaken the World," Volume 28: The White Snake Lady Forever Imprisoned in Leifeng Pagoda.

I think I've found the right approach.

I didn't waste much time. After briefly asking about his past experiences, I changed the subject and brought up the archaeological excavation of the Leifeng Pagoda underground palace in March of this year.

Feng Lide is a very talkative person. He started by talking about the history of the ancient Wuyue Kingdom, about the queen who wanted to build an underground palace, about the possible origins of the Buddha's hair in the gilded pagoda in the reliquary, and about the other cultural relics that were unearthed at the same time.

However, I am not particularly interested in this, but that's not the point; our busy readers won't be interested in these profound archaeological backgrounds.

I was forced to interrupt him and asked, "Could you talk about what happened during your archaeological work at the site?"

Feng Lide paused slightly, seemingly considering something. I didn't know what he was thinking; it was perfectly normal for me to ask such a question.

Feng Lide seemed to have sorted out his thoughts and began to recall the entire process of the excavation and archaeology. But the more I listened, the more disappointed I became. Everything he said had already been reported in the previous reports. There was nothing new. It felt to me as if he was recounting the national media reports on the Leifeng Pagoda archaeology, without mentioning his own feelings, details, or anecdotes.

Was he hiding something? This thought suddenly popped into my head, and it excited me.

I need to find a topic that will truly pique his interest. I remembered something I'd seen online.

"This kind of archaeological work must be very tiring. Are you able to get a good rest at night? Do you stay in a hotel back in the city or stay at a nearby camp?" I asked a preparatory question skillfully.

"Oh, we stay at the camp at night. That's how it is when we go out for archaeological work. We've been used to it for so many years. Staying in a hotel is something we don't feel comfortable with."

"Hangzhou is a great place. Why don't you take some time to stroll around the city center? The food stalls there are quite good, cheap and delicious."

"I don't have time for that. I'll fly straight to Beijing as soon as I'm done."

My eyes lit up, and I dropped a bombshell with a bright smile: "But you weren't at the camp on the night of March 11th. If you didn't go to the city... where were you?"

Feng Lide's expression changed.

I had never seen anyone truly change color before; at most, only their expression would shift. But now, Feng Lide's face was a terrifying pale blue-white, his lips twitching slightly, and I could see fine beads of sweat seeping from his forehead and the veins on his temples faintly visible. Feng Lide's eyes shifted, as if he were lost in thought, lost in reminiscence.

I was also a little panicked; I hadn't expected this question to have such a huge impact. I'd found the key; something must have happened that night, and judging from Feng Lide's expression, it certainly wasn't interesting.

Feng Lide picked up a cigarette, lit it, took a puff, and his expression finally softened. He looked at me carefully and said, "You've done a very thorough job of preparation. My website is pretty good, isn't it?"

His quick reaction surprised me slightly, and I smiled, which was taken as tacit agreement.

Feng Lide said, "There are fewer and fewer dedicated reporters like you these days. However, that matter is my private matter and has nothing to do with archaeology, so I won't talk about it."

I had a gut feeling he was lying, but since he said so, there was nothing I could do. The atmosphere was already a bit tense, so I asked a few casual questions and then got up to leave. Fortunately, this kind of profile is bound to be published, so even if it's poorly written, it'll do.

Feng Lide walked me to the door and picked up the newspaper. He said goodbye and then opened the mailbox.

I suddenly heard a low gasp of surprise, followed by the sound of a newspaper hitting the ground.

I turned my head and saw Feng Lide staring down at the newspaper lying on the ground. He was bent over halfway, and his hands were trembling slightly.

I went over to help him pick up the newspaper, and before I returned it to him, I saw the headline on the front page: "Ancient artifacts from the underground palace of Leifeng Pagoda will be exhibited for the first time, with Shanghai as the first stop."

As I took a few steps, I heard Feng Lide's deep voice behind me: "The underground palace, I was in the underground palace that night."

I turned around in surprise, only to find the door slammed shut.

I've been back in Shanghai for a week now. The article is finished and submitted; when it's used is up to the leadership. I keep thinking about Feng Lide's last words, and now I even doubt if I misheard them.

I specifically researched the detailed information about the Leifeng Pagoda's underground palace. It's said that the underground palace beneath a pagoda in Shaanxi Province has three massive levels, separated by huge stone gates, resembling a real palace. However, pagoda underground palaces of that scale only began to appear in the Tang Dynasty. The underground palaces of pagodas from the ancient Yue Kingdom period were actually just small caves. Taking the Leifeng Pagoda's underground palace as an example, it's no more than one meter high and no more than ten feet in diameter; a person inside couldn't stand upright. How could Feng Lide have stayed in such an environment for a single night?

Could it be that Feng Lide sat in silence all night, staring at the untouched reliquary box, which was still buried in the mud?

Today is the last day of the exhibition of the Leifeng Pagoda underground palace artifacts in Shanghai. With curiosity about the Feng Lide incident, I wanted to see the famous gilded pagoda that is said to contain Buddha's hair relics.

When I arrived at the Shanghai Museum, it was almost closing time, and ticket sales had stopped. I flashed my press pass and swaggered in; that's the kind of thing that's useful in situations like this.

The exhibition is located in the bronze ware hall on the ground floor. The four-cornered gilded pagoda is placed in the most prominent position. Although it has water stains from past flooding, it still exudes a magnificent golden aura. Unlike other antiquities that evoke the marks of time, this gilded pagoda gives me a sense of vitality.

Perhaps because it was close to closing time, there were very few people here. Besides me, there was only one other person in the entire exhibition hall. Like me, he was also standing in front of the gilded pagoda, seemingly very focused on it.

I suddenly felt that his back looked familiar. I took a few steps forward, carefully examined his profile, suppressed my surprise, and greeted him.

"Professor Feng."

Feng Lide turned his head, saw it was me, nodded slightly, and then turned back to stare at the gilded pagoda.

My astonishment was beyond measure. What could have driven the busy Feng Lide to travel thousands of miles to Shanghai? Was it all for this pagoda? But Feng Lide had participated in countless archaeological activities throughout his life, and the antiquities he had come into contact with were probably more than just one or two pieces of value greater than this stupa.

"When...did you arrive in Shanghai?"

Feng Lide stared silently at the gilded pagoda, as if he hadn't heard me. After a long while, he replied in a low voice, "Last Wednesday."

My heart skipped a beat. Last Wednesday was five days ago, the first day of the Leifeng Pagoda underground palace artifact exhibition.

“That day, after it ended, I kept feeling that something there was… calling to me, so that night, I went again.”

Feng Lide spoke in a low, strange voice, as if recounting a nightmare. I didn't know if he was speaking to me or simply talking to himself.

If someone is under too much pressure because of what they're hiding in their heart, they'll eventually need an opportunity to vent. I know that as long as I don't speak and just listen quietly, I can get closer to the truth.

"I crouched down and crawled into the underground palace, squatted in front of the relic box. I knew I couldn't open it now, I just looked at it, and then I heard a 'clang'."

Feng Lide's voice drew me into an eerie atmosphere, and I felt that something unimaginable was about to happen.

"The box was open, and I saw it. It was night, and the lamp I was carrying was very dim, but it was glowing."

Feng Lide fell silent, and I waited quietly for him to continue. At that moment, I suddenly heard a strange sound.

Saying I heard it might not be accurate; the sound seemed to come from within my heart. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was, but it reminded me of the chanting in Buddhist temples.

I asked Feng Lide, puzzled, "What was that sound? Did you hear it?"