King of Tomb Raiders

Chapter 226

Seeing the bewildered looks on her and Uncle Wei's faces, I anxiously grabbed the pencil and notebook from the dashboard and began to write down each note one by one.

The rhythm of the piano music was unusually slow, and the melody was even more somber and melancholic, like a lament. I could only remember less than five lines before my chest felt like it was stuffed with rotten cotton, and I couldn't breathe.

Gu Qingcheng stared at the paper, her lips moving, her voice gradually rising as she pieced together a simple melody. Then, with a look of astonishment, she asked, "Feng, this is Wang Xizhi's 'Linfeng Youlan Tune.' Did you really hear this kind of music?"

I nodded and continued to faithfully record the rising and falling notes.

Wang Xizhi, a great calligrapher of the Eastern Jin Dynasty, created the unparalleled "Preface to the Orchid Pavilion Gathering," as well as other famous works such as "Guan Nu Tie," "Shi Qi Tie," "Er Xie Tie," "Feng Ju Tie," "Yi Mu Tie," "Kuai Xue Shi Qing Tie," "Yue Yi Lun," and "Huang Ting Jing," which have become one of the main objects of imitation for calligraphy enthusiasts of later generations.

Ancient literati valued the four refined pursuits of "qin (a seven-stringed zither), qi (a seven-stringed zither), shu (a seven-stringed zither), and hua (a seven-stringed zither)," none of which could be omitted. Therefore, his achievements in qin music, Go, and painting of flowers, birds, fish, and insects are also highly praised by historians.

Why is his famous piece playing here? Who is playing it in the tunnel, expressing their feelings? Could it be the ruthless and elusive witch, Longo? As the piece ended, my hands, busy taking notes, started to ache.

Gu Qingcheng struggled to lean out of the car window, gazing at the tunnel: "Perhaps, we face too many unknowns, so much so that we can't piece together anything with these limited fragments, right?"

I was pondering a different question, trying to discern the source of the music in addition to listening intently to it.

"If the music could continue playing indefinitely, could we use our exceptional hearing to follow its direction and walk into the tunnel? Could the place where the music originates be the end of the tunnel?" This idea is bold and even audacious, because we currently know neither when the music begins nor when it will stop. If we get trapped halfway through, we might perish in this strange stone formation for the rest of our lives.

Sunlight shone on the canvas roof of the jeep, and the temperature inside the cabin gradually rose.

Gu Qingcheng took the paper from which I had written the sheet music and read it from beginning to end, humming softly to herself.

When she reached the very last few lines of the blank paper, she suddenly stopped, her lips moving rapidly. She abruptly raised her head and asked loudly, "Feng, are you sure you've remembered the last few lines correctly?"

I shook my head thoughtfully, repeatedly considering the possibility of passing through the tunnel by sound. The piece of music I had just heard lasted for about four to five minutes; at my speed, I could travel at least two hundred meters. Based on that ratio, I should be able to pass through the tunnel after hearing the music about five times.

If provided with enough food and drinking water, staying in the tunnel for more than a week is not too difficult. Sometimes, when problems cannot be solved by conventional means, one can only resort to unconventional methods and find alternative solutions.

Gu Qingcheng hummed that short syllable over and over again, her expression growing increasingly complicated.

I smiled and asked, "Miss Gu, what's wrong? Is there anything strange about this piece of music?"

Gu Qingcheng smiled bitterly: "Feng, as things have developed to this point, I really don't know whether to feel excited or panicked—the melody at the end of the score you recorded comes from a section of the Gu family's qin score. The original name of the piece is 'Journey to the East Sea,' which was improved and processed by my ancestors and renamed 'Immortal's Palace.' It is a rare ancient score from the Qin and Han tombs. I never thought that it would appear here again."

More and more clues point to the glorious era when Qin Shi Huang dominated the world, including these musical pieces that I heard intentionally or unintentionally.

"It's a pity you can't hear those piano sounds." I smiled faintly, put down my pencil, and closed my eyes to think.

"Miss, Mr. Feng, may we return to the camp now?" Uncle Wei asked in a low voice.

"That's enough, let's go back and rest up before we talk again." Gu Qingcheng's mood suddenly improved as she waved the white paper in her hand and pointed towards the camp.

Indeed, we are all exhausted, and our mental processing abilities have declined sharply, to the point of mechanical operation. In this state, our views on any issue will be biased, or even lead us astray. Therefore, everyone urgently needs a good night's sleep to temporarily put aside all the chaotic problems.

An uneasy atmosphere permeated the camp. In addition to the two people killed by the Dragon Witch, three more people—Flying Eagle, Liang Wei, and Li Kang—were added to the ranks, and morale plummeted to its lowest point.

"Feng, perhaps we should be together... No, never mind, let's..." Gu Qingcheng's cheeks flushed red, and she hurriedly covered her mouth with her hand, seemingly regretting that she had said the wrong thing. She looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, then immediately lowered her head and walked quickly toward her tent.

In those few words, I understood her meaning: with a formidable enemy at hand and danger lurking everywhere, we shouldn't be separated and left alone, lest we be picked off one by one. For those of us in the martial world, sleeping under the same tent in a complex environment isn't despicable or vile. Su Lun and I had done it before, looking out for each other and fighting off the enemy together.

Gu Qingcheng, after all, is not another Su Lun. I watched her figure disappear behind the curtain, a faint sense of melancholy passing through my heart.

Every girl has her own dazzling strengths, but no single girl can combine the best qualities of all of them—Su Lun's carefree spirit, Tina's aloofness, Guan Baoling's charm, Gu Qingcheng's wisdom... I shook my head, turned and went into the tent, the faces of several girls flashing through my mind like a revolving lantern. I lay down on the mattress and fell into a deep sleep after only half a minute.

The satellite phone was under my pillow. In my daze, I heard it ringing, but I was too sleepy to open my eyes. I turned over and went back to sleep. The faint sound of the zither kept echoing in my ears, and the wonderful scene of Gu Qingcheng using her clothes as strings would reappear every now and then, making me both surprised and delighted.

She is definitely extraordinary. Does she harbor even deeper secrets? What message did that melody convey to her that made her suddenly so happy?

If the focus of the question is entirely on the era of Qin Shi Huang, I think we might as well start by studying the mysterious things of that era. The most important thing is to see if we can find a general named "Afang", who is the mysterious square-eyed monster.

Dreams are the focal point of the sixth sense, and I firmly believe that everything I see in my dreams reflects some underlying logical relationship in the real world.

As I turned over again, the golden mask of the Longewitch surfaced in my memory. Intuitively, it wasn't a mask, but her real face. She had repeatedly warned me not to turn on the lights, and every time she appeared, she would smash all the light fixtures in the room, perhaps to prevent others from seeing her true face.

So, could the bizarre and terrifying golden mask be her true face? Born as an Earthling with the strange eyes and face of an alien race, she naturally had no face to see her own kind, which is why she hid herself in the boundless darkness.

Is she a mutated Earthling? An Earthling modified by "them"? Where and when did they come from? Have they been living in seclusion since the time of Qin Shi Huang until today? These questions are like a knotted rope, impossible to untangle.

When I woke up, I heard the wind outside the tent intensify once again, howling endlessly.

In the darkness before the bed, a slender figure sat indistinctly, head bowed, silent.

“Longge Witch? Gu Qingcheng? Neither—Feiyue?” I rubbed my eyes, and with a slight movement of my arm, I woke the other person up.

"Mr. Feng, you're awake?" It was Fei Yue's slightly melancholic, hoarse voice.

When the curtain was rolled up, it showed that dusk had fallen outside, and another night had arrived.

I sat up and reached for the light switch, but Feiyue stopped me urgently: "Don't turn on the light, Mr. Feng, don't turn on the light. I want to sit with you in the dark for a while." Her voice was already hoarse. The accident with Feiying was like a bolt from the blue for her.

"Feiyue, don't be too sad. There must be a way to wake them up." I shifted my posture.

Feiyue lunged forward and fell into my arms, whispering, "I'm so cold, hug me."

I was stunned for a moment, my hands hovering in mid-air for three seconds before gently landing on her shoulders and embracing her delicate, dove-like body.

The sound of roving footsteps could be heard outside, and the beams of searchlight occasionally swept across the area, passing beneath the fluttering curtains.

Time became unimportant, and we simply held each other quietly, neither of us speaking. I knew that what Feiyue needed at this moment was not romantic love, but the care and protection of family, just as Feiying had given her before.

Gradually, I felt a dampness on my chest; it was Feiyue's tears.

"Mr. Feng, if one day you rescue Miss Suren and leave the mainland, will you ever think of me?" She looked up in the darkness, her small nose surrounded by glistening spots.

I sighed deeply, unable to make her a promise, yet unwilling to hurt her with a polite refusal. She was still a child, and couldn't afford to suffer two blows in one day. As of now, of Su Lun's second support team, only Fei Yue was still alive; Fei Ying and Liang Wei's fates were now unpredictable.

“I don’t need an answer. This warm hug is enough to make me stronger in the days to come. Thank you, Mr. Feng.” She straightened up, gently kissed my left cheek, sprang to her feet, lifted the curtain, and slipped out.

I raised my arm, trying to stop her, but I only opened my lips and couldn't utter a single word.

Now, before I find Suren, I have no right to do anything to other girls, nor can I make any promises. Otherwise, the ones who will suffer are everyone who loves me and everyone I love.

Another slender figure passed by the tent entrance, paused briefly, seemingly intending to lift the curtain and come in, but suddenly a soft electronic tune came from the telephone under the pillow. The person hesitated for a moment, then strolled westward and quickly disappeared.

"Wind? It's been so long since I heard your voice. How are you now?"

A phone number from a small Australian town, but the voice that came through was Yan Xun's pleasant voice.

I snapped out of Fei Yue's sorrow and quickly composed myself: "Miss Yan, I'm fine, thank you for your concern."

Yan Xun's gentle, rounded smile came clearly through the receiver: "Feng, you're always so polite, even in the harsh jungle environment. No wonder Xiao Keleng and the others speak highly of you. Getting back to the point, because I only have less than three hundred seconds to talk—Su Lun's strange disappearance seems to be related to something else. Do you remember the 'Silver Dandelion' I mentioned before?"

I hummed in agreement. Reese, the "Silver Dandelion," had a brief encounter with me on a flight to Hokkaido before disappearing into a mysterious space beneath Fuuki-ji Temple, and has not been heard from since.

“Now, fifteen minutes ago, we received a report from the wireless detection department. The data shows that the 'Silver Dandelion's' self-identification signal has reappeared somewhere in mainland China, with the latitude and longitude coordinates as follows…” She recited two precise figures.

Each precise intersection on the globe should cover an area within a radius of fifty kilometers. The coordinates above refer to the extent of this mountain range.

"Is that strange?" She didn't hear my surprised exclamation; instead, she was surprised herself.

I should indeed express surprise, because the southwestern border region is far from Hokkaido, Japan, separated by a vast ocean. It's practically impossible for someone who mysteriously disappeared from Hokkaido to suddenly reappear here. However, the probability of error for American wireless positioning and tracking technology is only one in seven hundred million, which is practically equivalent to absolute accuracy.

The human world is constantly generating contradictions, and some inconceivable things almost exceed the limits of imagination.

Part Four: The Star Array, Chapter Eight: Hacker Master Red Ghost

"Only one side is right. Perhaps it's her disappearance in Japan, or perhaps it's her reappearance here—Ms. Yan, shouldn't your wireless tracking personnel upgrade their search system?"

Yan Xun smiled: "If it weren't for an extremely strange event, I wouldn't have bothered to inform you. The crux of the contradiction is that both detection reports were conducted along the same exploration route, the data came from the same 'Askins' type communications satellite in the Pacific orbit, and the data was analyzed by the same 'Night Savior' supercomputer team. Even the reports were recorded by the same group of staff. Therefore, the Pentagon has now concluded that both reports are correct. For some unknown reason, 'Silver Dandelion' mysteriously changed its location, moving from Hokkaido to the Sichuan-Tibet border of mainland China. Moreover, its signal remains constant, indicating that it is in good physical condition and shows no signs of illness, injury, or being imprisoned by external forces."

I frowned: "Could it be time travel?"

Those brain chips that can never be removed are powered by the bloodstream of the spies. Once someone's physical condition changes, the strength of the signal reflected back to the search system will definitely change significantly. If Resika's feedback signals from both locations are approximately consistent, it proves that she has been living in a natural state.

Yan Xun's laughter grew louder: "Your view is basically the same as the research report submitted by Commander Allenson of Region 51. His theory is based on the 'theory of plate tectonics'—that during the formation of the Earth's crust, numerous sealed vacuum channels are created. If a human were to fall into one of these channels under certain special conditions, their body would be rapidly transported to the other end of the channel in a manner that exceeds the limits of physical mechanics..."

I coughed, interrupting her: "Well, did Commander Allenson include a note at the end of the report stating that the above theories came from a recent graduate of a prestigious Italian university? If not, please complain to the Minister of Defense that he plagiarized the graduation thesis of a Chinese student named Feng."

Those theories were one of my research projects in college, and they received unanimous "excellent" ratings from all four of my advisors during my graduation exam.

"Commander Allenson is a meticulous person and of course he will mark the source of the information. Therefore, I have decided to pass this message on to you, which may be of some help in the search for Suren." Yan Xun began to look worried. After all, she was like a sister to Suren and Xiao Kelen, and any accident that happened to any of them would make her heart ache.

I quickly grasped the crux of the matter: "Miss Yan, is there any report about the mysterious 'Sky Ladder' in the seventeenth database of Region 51? Also, databases four through four-four contain clues closely related to Qin Shi Huang of China. Could you grant me special access to read them online?"

Yan Xun refused decisively: "No, that's a top secret of the United States of America. Even the president needs Congressional permission to access a part of it, let alone an outsider like you. Absolutely not. Time is running out. I hope you can find Suren successfully. Of course, I will do everything I can to help, right? Goodbye."

She smiled meaningfully, and the call was immediately disconnected, leaving only the busy tone of "beep beep beep beep".

Mentioning the database issue was merely a probe. If this call had carried the official intentions of the Pentagon, high-ranking officials would certainly have granted me some kind of privilege, treating me as "one of their own." The fact that Yanxun has so firmly rejected it at least proves that our actions remain free and are not under American aerial surveillance.

Xiao Yan has her own things to do. I'm just hoping that Little Red Ghost will arrive at the camp soon and connect to the network to break into the data system of Area 51. The mysterious zone built by the Americans isn't just for studying strange events in North America; it covers more than twenty countries around the world where aliens frequently appear, including mainland China.

"Hmm?" My eyes suddenly lit up. "Region 51 spent a lot of manpower and resources collecting clues related to Qin Shi Huang. Doesn't that, from another perspective, prove that extraterrestrials frequently visited the Qin Dynasty's territory during that era? In other words, most of the research topics of Chinese historians and archaeologists have deviated far from the main point. They've simply been diligently conducting archaeology, attempting to reconstruct that period of history based on existing unearthed artifacts, without considering the extraterrestrial factor at all. That's why so many mysteries remain unsolved—"

After a good night's sleep, my thinking ability finally returned to normal, and every time a flash of inspiration struck, new and ingenious ideas emerged.

I hurriedly stepped out of the tent, wanting to tell Gu Qingcheng about these ideas.

Suddenly, a beam of light appeared to the due north, accompanied by the roar of an off-road motorcycle exhaust pipe and a continuous "rat-a-tat-tat" sound, similar to gunfire.

The searchlights immediately swept northward, and under the illumination of the four powerful beams, a person wearing a red helmet and a red racing suit straddled a Mitsubishi off-road motorcycle and sped over.

The roving sentries were on high alert, and all pointed their guns at the uninvited guest.

After the vehicle pulled into the camp, the driver turned off the engine, took off his helmet, and stared straight at me with his cold, piercing eyes: "Wind?"

I opened my arms and greeted him: "China's greatest hacker, Red Devil?"

With Xiao Yan around, other hackers need to be careful when given titles starting with "most," lest they be accused of being unworthy of the honor. Only Xiao Yan deserves any glorious nickname.

Red Devil abandoned his motorcycle, completely ignoring the long and short guns surrounding him. He slung his huge travel bag over his shoulder, looked up at the sky, and sighed, "No wonder Xiao Yan said that seeing is believing. I've heard people say how great you are, with all sorts of praise, but now it seems you have more charisma than anyone said. Alright, from now on, I'll listen to you completely. Wherever you point, I'll go. How about that?"

His thick, black eyebrows, like a black brush, hung strangely above his eyes, giving him an extremely comical appearance. He was small and thin, probably less than 1.6 meters tall, making one wonder if the large backpack would crush his frame.

I extended my hand to him: "Welcome, and thank you for coming to help."

Hackers' eccentric appearances are probably proportional to their technical skills. When Xiao Yan first appeared in front of me, she was swearing non-stop and complaining all the time, while Hong Xiao Gui was closer to a normal person than Xiao Yan.

He reached out and shook my hand; it was soft and delicate, like a girl's hand.

The beam of the searchlight shone on the two of us, like a freeze-frame close-up in a stage play.

"Wind, tell them to move those bird lights away, or I won't be so polite, and everyone's money for light bulbs will be wasted—" Red Devil sneered, tilting his shoulder, while glaring at the nearest roving sentry, "Hey, what are you looking at? Never seen such a handsome super hacker before?"

His lips were rosy and his teeth were white, much more pleasing to the eye than his stiff eyebrows and small eyes.

Gu Qingcheng stood in the shadows, waved her hand, and the searchlights immediately moved away, while the roving sentries quickly dispersed.

"Let me introduce you all. This is Hong Xiaogui, the most famous hacker in mainland China. This is Miss Gu, Uncle Wei..."

Red Little Devil laughed loudly, "Hey, I'm here to work, not to attend a social gathering. Why would I need to meet so many people?" He ignored the outstretched hands of Gu Qingcheng and Uncle Wei.

Uncle Wei snorted coldly, but Gu Qingcheng still smiled gently: "It's an honor to meet you."

Red Little Devil sneered, "Heh? I've heard so much about you? You don't even know me, so why would you say 'I've heard so much about you'?" His arrogant attitude made Uncle Wei even more dissatisfied, so he turned around and left, heading towards Li Kang's tent.

"Three years ago, during the Sino-US hacker war, a young master codenamed 'One-Eyed Yama' single-handedly dismantled the 'Washington Wall,' which the American hackers had fought so hard to defend. He wrote the famous quote 'We workers have power' on the screen of the main monitoring room, where the enemy's defenses were the strongest. He became famous overnight. Isn't that one of your three masterpieces?" Gu Qingcheng asked calmly, her eyes gleaming in the shadows.