The Complete Collection of Yellow River Ghost Coffins

Chapter 12

The young master asked me, "But is this legend reliable? What if the location is wrong? A trip to such a place takes a whole day, and we don't have much time to waste."

I said, "Since it's just a local legend, you'll get the same result no matter who you ask. Why not just believe him this once? Besides, he says there are frequent tomb raiders in Peacock Mountain, there must be a reason. Putting everything else aside, there should be a dragon vein there. We have to go and see. If there really is a royal tomb there, maybe we can find out the details of what happened inside."

Ruonan was extremely excited. Everything she had learned so far was from books, and this time she could experience it firsthand. She was overjoyed. Moreover, ancient tombs of royal scale like these were either sealed off by the government or kept secret indefinitely. A young girl like her would basically never be able to enter one in her entire life. Plus, this time she was going to save her own life, without any moral constraints, so naturally she was incredibly excited.

Actually, the young master and I are no different. We've sold so many antiques, but it's all just scratching the surface. We dream of going into the royal tombs to see what it's like.

I did some thinking and realized that if there really was an ancient tomb, we would need to prepare things. We would never rob a tomb, and we never thought that such a day would actually come, so we had nothing.

The legend of the yellow teeth is too exaggerated. I think it's unlikely that it was in the water because the technology at that time simply couldn't do that. However, it's very possible that King Guangchuan's tomb was built by cutting into the mountain, which would require explosives at the very least.

We definitely didn't bring this with us; we'll have to buy it locally. It's a prohibited item, and we're not familiar with the area. We'll have to ask Huang Ya for help tomorrow. Maybe he can get us some detonators or something for frying fish.

Upon entering the underground palace, I learned from Nanpaizi that there were many dangers, so I made a list of things to prepare for the next morning. The group acted like they were really going tomb raiding, and I couldn't sleep. Nanpaizi had many rules, which I explained to them. You can't call it superstition; many of them actually make sense. For example, lighting incense inside might be for worshipping the dead, but it could also be a way to time things. Nanpaizi's incense sticks have a fixed length, meaning their time inside the tomb is limited. This greatly reduces the chance of being discovered, and in such a short time, the people inside can't bring everything out, avoiding the chance of dying from the tomb's stench due to greed.

I had never told either of them these things before, and now that I have, they are both very impressed with me.

Chapter Twenty-One: Drowning in Yellow Soup

Finally, the young master said, "Don't get so excited. It's just speculation about the royal tomb. We don't even know what it is when we get there. Let's just get some sleep." We calmed down, laughed at each other, and went to rest. However, we didn't sleep for long before dawn.

I wasn't actually asleep. When I got up, Huang Ya prepared breakfast for us. I realized I couldn't just eat their food for free, so I asked the young master to give him some money, and then we discussed buying detonators and equipment.

Huang Ya initially refused to sell to us, but we stuffed a lot of money into his hand and showed him the documents from the Cultural Relics Administration Bureau that Wang Ruonan had brought, saying that we were an advance team that had come to secretly investigate the ancient tomb and that we needed his cooperation. When he saw that we both had the title of director, he immediately became respectful and not only sold us the detonators, but also introduced us to some local mountain people and bought us a lot of equipment that we needed in the mountains.

After we got our things ready and found out the specific route, we arrived at the ferry crossing, intending to go to Shatian Gorge first.

Shatian Gorge was once a gorge on the ancient Yellow River, now a tributary called the Mengjiang River. The ferry crossing is filled with the roar of the water. Looking up, it resembles a giant, winding dragon ascending the river. On the opposite cliff, I saw a large inscription in black ink: "The Yellow River winds nine times through ten thousand miles of sand, its waves surging from the ends of the earth." It seems this place was once a scenic spot. The person who wrote this probably never dreamed the Yellow River would change its course.

There were several boats at the ferry crossing, but when I looked, I saw that they had all been pulled ashore, which puzzled me.

I went over to ask and found out that it's the flood season, and the transportation management bureau has regulations prohibiting small boats under three tons from operating at the Shazhen Gorge. So these boats simply don't go into the water and are being repaired on board.

We offered a very high price, but no one was willing to help us. I could see that some people were clearly tempted by the price, but they were still unsure about helping. We were so anxious that we were running around in circles.

After a long day of work, a boatman said, "If you're really in a hurry to get somewhere, take the mountain road. It'll definitely be faster than waiting for a boat. Nobody here will take you by boat. This Shazhen Gorge is extremely dangerous. Countless people have died here. There are absolutely no boats this season. Most people travel by mountain road."

Having no other option, we returned to Yellow Teeth's house. He was drinking and, seeing us return, asked curiously, "What happened, everyone?"

I explained the situation to him and asked him what other routes there were to get to Peacock Mountain besides the boat.

Huang Ya thought for a moment and said, "Really, I should have thought of that. You know these days men are all out on their own, and I haven't been a ferryman in a long time. There are mountain paths, but they take too long. Didn't you say you were in a hurry? That's definitely not suitable. Here's what we'll do: you wait here, and I'll go and think of a solution for you."

Seeing how enthusiastic he was, I felt genuinely grateful and said, "Thank you very much."

He agreed and ran out, but he ran for almost five hours. We stayed at his house until the afternoon, and I was almost in despair.

Just as we were about to get up and leave, Yellow Teeth came running back. We hurriedly asked him how it went, and he said with a strange expression, "The boat was found, it's over at Sanlibei, but—"

As for how to enter the Mengjiang Canyon, Huang Ya pointed out two routes. One is to enter from the entrance at the bottom of the canyon, but this route involves passing through a large area of primeval forest. The bottom of the canyon is not flat, and we cannot enter in a straight line. In reality, seven days is far from enough, and the primeval forest is full of dangers. For a group of scholars like us, going in would probably be suicide. The other route is to take a boat and travel 20 kilometers along the Mengjiang River, then stop at a rapid and cross the mountain directly. This route only takes two days, but the mountain we need to cross is called Peacock Mountain, which is over 3,700 meters above sea level. Although there is a mountain town on one side, the population is sparse, with only about 500 households. On the other side is the heart of the primeval forest. There is no path, let alone a comfortable place to step.

After much hesitation and still not finding out a third way, we finally decided that taking the waterway was the most practical option. Although crossing the mountain was difficult, it was only temporary suffering. If we were trapped in the primeval forest, unable to live or die, I would rather sleep in a bed in the city and wait to die.

After finally making up our minds, we discovered that very few boats were willing to go upstream this season, and we didn't have much money on us. We asked several boatmen, but none of them were willing to take us. Then we heard that someone in Sanlibei was willing to go out on a boat. It was like hearing the news of the founding of the People's Republic of China. We jumped up and asked Huangya where the boat captain was.

Huang Ya didn't know the specifics either. He only said that the other party wasn't after our money, but that they had urgent business to attend to upstream. They happened to hear about our situation and thought that since we were going to take risks anyway, we might as well bring a few more people and make some money. As for the details, their destination, and what kind of ship they were on, he couldn't say for sure.

We had no choice but to go directly with him to see the ship owner, nicknamed Lao Cai. He was very strong and looked honest and simple. We told him the situation, and he listened and nodded.

The young master was very shrewd. He felt that this matter was not easy. Everyone else would rather die than leave the ship, but you are going to leave. Could you be a swindler? So he tried to find out more about it indirectly.

The boat owner was initially stubborn, but after giving the young master a good talking-to, he told me everything, which almost made me laugh to death.

What Huangya told us was just hearsay and not the whole story. It turned out that the boat owner was a gambler who had accumulated a huge gambling debt a few months ago and then fell ill. Unable to pay it back, he decided to take the risk when the deadline was approaching. Otherwise, he wouldn't have taken this risk.

The young master asked him, "Why are you all so afraid? Is this area really as dangerous as you're making it out to be? Could it be that you've conspired to raise the price upon arrival?"

Old Cai sighed and said, "You haven't been there, so you don't know. In their local dialect, when this was still the Yellow River, this section was called 'Yellow Soup Weak Water.' It was said that even a feather thrown into it would sink. The reason was that there were many holes in the bottom of this section of the ancient Yellow River, and no one knew where they led. During the flood season, the water would swirl and roll in. The older generation said that this water was the Yellow Springs Water, and that the nine Yellow Springs in the underworld poured down from here. That's why there's the saying, 'You won't shed tears until you see the coffin, and you won't give up until you reach the Yellow River.'"

Of course, now that we're liberated, people don't believe in this stuff anymore, but it's absolutely true that there are holes at the bottom of the river. A few years ago, when the Yellow River was dry, the Mengjiang River also dried up, and scientists came to investigate. The sandy bottom wasn't flat; there were pits six or seven meters deep filled with solid sand. What dug these holes, what's underneath, and what their purpose is—nobody knows for sure anymore.

However, the nickname "Yellow Soup Weak Water" is not wrong at all. Once the boat reaches this section, it is basically out of control. No matter how experienced you are, you have to listen to the current. If you are lucky, you will make it through bumps and bruises. If you are unlucky, then it is hard to say.

What's even more dangerous is that many times a boat went through the strait with a dozen or so people on board, but when it came back out of the strait, there was no one on board. No one knew what had happened, and no bodies were found.

In recent years, the situation has begun to improve due to the widespread use of motorboats, but the overall situation is still far from optimistic. Especially during floods, the currents are unpredictable, and it's impossible to know where they're heading, making them virtually impossible to steer.

The young master said, "So, according to you, we're not just going to feed the fish this time? Oh dear, that'll be hard on you."

Old Cai chuckled, "That's not necessarily the case. Our iron boat won't sink easily, even if it can't get through. But I must ask you all, when you board, please don't talk about feeding the fish. Keep your mouths shut. Although I can't guarantee I can get you across, I can guarantee your lives."

The boat owner told us that the last time he attempted to cross this road was three years ago. He narrowly escaped, but strangely, the bottom of the boat was uneven and pitted, as if something had chewed into it. This year, the water level was higher than usual, and he wasn't confident of success. He said we should be prepared that if we were unlucky enough to sink, there was nothing he could do to save us. We were all going to fill the Yellow River together; no one could escape unscathed, because it was impossible for anyone to survive the Yellow River in this season.

Another thing is that the money must be paid in full, not a penny less.

I told the boat owner, "Don't worry about the money. We're in the same boat as you, with urgent matters to attend to. If things don't work out, the money means nothing to us. Besides, everyone gets what they need. Don't worry about us saying anything out of line. Look at this young master, his surname is Li, and he's related to the Dragon King. Rest assured, everything will be fine."

After agreeing on a price, we quickly loaded the equipment onto the boat. I also asked Huang Ya if he could get me some weapons. After all, we were going into the primeval jungle this time, and we needed something to defend ourselves. Huang Ya had his daughter rummage through his house and found an old crossbow. He handed it to me, saying that he didn't have any guns anymore, as they had been melted down by Dalian Steel. He said that this was all he had for self-defense, and since I had bought so much stuff from him, he would give it to me as a bonus. He said that people here used this for hunting before liberation, and it was much better than the air rifles we have now.

I took a look and wow, it really is a good thing. It has a pine wood stock, and you can tell it was made by an expert. It's very heavy, and the leather hilt is in good condition. The arrows are made of sharpened bamboo. The person holding the crossbow only needs to place the bamboo arrow on the stock, pull the string in the opposite direction of the arrowhead with both hands until it hooks, aim at the target, and then pull the trigger. The bamboo arrow will then fly towards the target. Compared to a gun, this thing is almost silent and has little recoil, making it very suitable for surprise attacks.

I tested it out by firing an arrow. The bamboo arrow shot over a hundred meters in the blink of an eye and landed in the Yellow River. The vibration generated after the crossbow was very strong, so it seems that getting hit by an arrow isn't so fun after all. The only downside is that the ammunition is too heavy; forty bamboo arrows are heavier than a hundred bullets, which would probably be a burden when climbing mountains.

Considering the dangers Huang Ya had told me about in the primeval jungle, I figured it was better to keep the crossbow. I tossed it to the young master; he was stronger than me, so the responsibility of protecting everyone fell to him.

I thanked Huang Ya, and the three of us boarded Lao Cai's tin boat. Soon the boat set sail. For the first few hours, we were still in a slow-moving area. We had walked all the way from Mao'er Ridge to here, with almost no rest or food. It was a good time to eat some chocolate and drink some wine to replenish our strength and warmth. Young Master and I were both militia reservists. Back then, during the famine and war preparations, we had received training like regular soldiers, so this little bit of travel was nothing. What surprised me was that Wang Ruonan, this young girl, was also full of energy and didn't seem to feel tired at all.

Whether we were tired or not, we would definitely have less and less time to rest in the future. After we finished eating, we each tried to go to sleep as soon as possible, but we didn't sleep for long before we were woken up by Lao Cai's barking.

Stepping onto the deck, I realized that we had arrived at Shazhen Gorge, which was downstream. The towering cliffs on both sides looked as if they had been cut, with almost no slope. Many unknown trees grew horizontally on the cliffs, and the tops of the cliffs were even more lush with branches and leaves. I originally thought that only pine trees could grow like that, but upon closer inspection, I realized that plants can indeed grow like that.

Below the cliffs lies the surging ancient Yellow River channel of the Mengjiang River. The entire Shazhen Gorge is like a pot of boiling mud soup, with mud waves rolling and the chaotic flow of the water visible to the naked eye.

Lao Cai was already intently at the helm, and the boat slowly entered the strait. For a moment, we couldn't feel the terrifying undercurrents, but our nerves were stretched to the limit. All the cliffs inside the strait showed a widening trend, indicating that the water in the strait was wider than at both ends, forming an olive shape, and we were heading towards the center of this cocoon.

There were some boat poles on the boat, which are essential for punting a boat on the river. My son and I each picked one up and stuck it into the Yellow River, hoping to help the old man in case of danger.

As soon as we put the pole into the water, we immediately realized that this section was too deep; the six- or seven-meter-long bamboo pole couldn't even touch the bottom.

Moreover, when the bamboo pole is inserted into the water, you can clearly feel the turbulent currents flowing in different directions beneath the calm surface. If you were to fall in here, you wouldn't even have a chance to become a floating corpse.

The young master asked me, "Old Xu, this place is really bad. The Mengjiang River gets turbulent here. Should we have Lao Cai speed up the horse and rush through in one go?"

I told the young master not to offer any opinions. It looks like we're not far from the gorge exit, but anyone who's been on a boat knows that the actual distance is several times greater. If you go straight there, the only result will be that you get sucked in by the current. At best, you'll be squeezed against the cliff, and at worst...

The young master wasn't too convinced by the local legends, and laughed, "It's not that bad. I don't think it's dangerous here, but it's not as dangerous as those boatmen described. It's probably just historical exaggeration—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the ship suddenly shook violently, throwing us all to the side. We managed to grab onto the iron railings to avoid falling.

I yelled at Lao Cai, "What happened?"

Old Cai, who was in the driver's seat, clearly didn't know what had happened either. He poked his head out to look at the surface of the Mengjiang River and said, "It looks like we hit something."

No sooner had I finished speaking than the ship started shaking again and tilted to one side. I quickly braced my foot against the sliding luggage and looked at the side of the ship to see where the shaking was coming from and whether there were any hidden reefs.

In the churning muddy water, there was a huge, snake-like black shadow writhing and lingering beneath our boat. The width of the shadow was almost equal to that of our boat. Judging from its writhing movements, it was clearly a living creature, but it was definitely not a fish.

The young master's face turned deathly pale, and the words stuck in his throat, unable to come out.

This place is connected to the Yellow River, and the turbid river water is rich in a variety of species. Fishermen who fish in the Yellow River often find strange fish in their nets that they have never seen before. But this one is so big that it is really rare. Judging from the blurry shadow on the water, this thing is about seven meters long and more than one meter wide. It swims very fast and is obviously very interested in our boat, and it keeps hovering around us.

The young master turned to me and asked, "Old Xu, what kind of monster is that? How come it's so big!"

Looking at the murky muddy water, I had no idea how to answer him. I quickly turned to look at Lao Cai, only to find him kneeling in the driver's seat, kowtowing repeatedly. The steering wheel was spinning wildly.

The young master screamed in fright, "Old Cai! What are you doing! We're going to crash into the cliff!"

Old Cai shouted, "That's a Yellow River dragon! You two bosses, it's a Yellow River dragon! Kneel down now, or we're all dead!"

The young master cursed, "Damn it! How could there be a dragon in this world?" As he spoke, he tried to rush over and grab the steering wheel.

I saw that as soon as the young master shouted, the things in the water suddenly became more agitated. I quickly gestured for him to stop shouting, then gave Wang Ruonan a look, signaling them to crouch down. I whispered to Lao Cai, "Turn off the motor!"

Lao Cai nodded hurriedly, pulled the motor switch, and the motor stopped abruptly, leaving only the sound of the rushing Mengjiang River in the entire space.

I held my breath and leaned over the gunwale to see how the dark shape would react. The thing moving so fast underwater must be carnivorous. It was so big that if it bumped our gunwale, we would definitely be drowning. The water in this ancient Yellow River channel is murky, and most fish rely more on their hearing. I hoped that once we turned off the motor, the thing would swim away on its own.

However, the sound of the tin boat was clearly just as loud as the motor here, and the dark shadow kept slipping under our boat again and again. Each time, we heard a slight scratching sound from below, as if the thing's dorsal fin was scraping against the bottom of the boat, which made us stand up in fear.

Without any propulsion, we began to spin with the current, and soon the bow and stern changed direction, causing us to crash into a cliff.

Lao Cai and I picked up the pole and braced ourselves against the cliff, trying to stop the boat, but it was no use. The current and the boat's inertia made it impossible for me to even hold onto the pole. In the blink of an eye, there was a loud "bang," and we watched as the stern of the boat slammed into the cliff. The boat let out a heart-wrenching groan, and we were all thrown onto the deck. Inside the cabin, we heard a series of sounds of things breaking.

I already knew something was wrong. I stood up and turned around, and sure enough, I saw that the shadow in the water had disappeared.

That was a very bad sign. It might be sinking underwater and about to attack us. Just as I was about to warn the others, the boat suddenly jolted violently, accompanied by a loud bang. The boat was almost lifted off the water, and we were thrown about as we stood up.

In the chaos, a long dorsal fin skimmed out of the water along the ship's side, then dove back in like lightning and disappeared in an instant.

Lao Cai scrambled to his feet and ran to the bottom of the boat to check the damage. Luckily, it was a tin boat; the hull had been bulged out, but there was no leak. If it had been hit a few more times, I really don't know what would have happened.

The young master picked up the old crossbow, drew the bowstring, and with one hand on the gunwale, he aimed at the water with the other. I told him that this was useless. Although the old crossbow was quite powerful, compared to the size of the thing underwater, the arrowhead was like trying to stab a tiger with a toothpick.

Before I could finish speaking, there was another violent jolt. My head hit a bag of luggage, cutting it open and drawing blood immediately. Wang Ruonan screamed in fright and told me not to move.

My head was spinning from the impact. I stood up and touched it—it was bleeding! I immediately went berserk. No one had ever made me bleed this much in my life! Damn it, I'd bumped into someone today! I yelled at the young master, "Damn it! They think we're easy to bully? Get out those fish-blasting detonators from Yellow Teeth! We don't care if they're dragons or snakes, let's see who eats whom today!"

The young master shouted, "These explosives are meant to be used when we go into the mountains! If we use them here, we'll be out of ammunition!"

I yelled, "Damn it, I don't care about anything else! If we can't get past this, what's the point of even going into the mountain?!"

There was another crash, this time not to the center of the boat's hull, but to the side. This was a disaster; the boat almost capsized. Wang Ruonan flipped over the side of the boat and clung tightly to the mooring rope to avoid being swept away by the water. I quickly went over to pull her up.

Seeing that things were truly hopeless, the young master rummaged through his backpack, pulled out a detonator, and shouted, "Old Xu, I'm really going to throw it away!"

I yelled, "Shut the hell up and throw it!"

With one hand holding onto the buffer tire on the side of the boat, the young master pulled up the detonators and, without thinking, threw the entire bundle of twenty detonators at once into the water. The detonators were about the size of a basketball and sank into the water immediately.

I nearly went crazy when I saw it. This stuff was industrial explosives; even a single piece was incredibly powerful. A whole bundle like this could probably capsize a ship. I yelled at him, "You fucking idiot! If you're going to throw these, throw them one by one! Do you think they're firecrackers?!"

The young master turned his head and said, "Damn it, you told me to throw it, why are you complaining so much?" Before he finished speaking, there was a loud "bang", and water splashed everywhere. A huge water bubble rose from the water, and our boat was blown more than a meter out of the water before crashing back down. Wang Ruonan and I were thrown out of our hands and fell into the water.

I was jolted awake, splashing around with muddy water all over my face and mouth. I looked around for Wang Ruonan, and the little girl soon popped her head out of the water too.

A crimson stain appeared in the water. Those yellow teeth really weren't lying; the detonator was damn powerful, almost like a small depth charge. That thing underwater must have been hit. I wonder if it's dead.

We couldn't worry about that right now. We quickly swam to the boat and climbed onto the gunwale. We pulled ourselves onto the boat using the rope and shouted, "Young Master!" to see where he had fallen.

Everything on the boat was covered in mud, and the entire boat was a mess. I rushed into the cabin and saw the young master covered in blood, crying for his mother. I helped him up and yelled, "You son of a bitch, take a good look at this! This is what happens when you're disorganized and undisciplined!"

The young master said, "Damn it, didn't you tell me to throw them? You didn't say how many, and now that something's happened, you're blaming me."

Just as I was about to retort, I heard Lao Cai's cries for help from below. I helped the young master down to the cabin and saw that things were in bad shape. Lao Cai had been crushed by the oil drums below and was more seriously injured than the young master. What was worse was that there were several holes in the bottom of the ship, which were obviously caused by detonators.

The hole wasn't big, only about the size of a head, but water was gushing out. I quickly pulled Lao Cai out of the oil well, and he yelled at us, "Quickly find something to plug the hole, anything will do!"

I quickly took off my clothes, pressed down on one of the holes, and told the young master to get the blanket from the guest room.