Erreur Yin et Yang

Chapitre 4

I looked around; there was no one in sight. The beach was clean and tidy, and the fire was still slightly warm. I called out a few times, but there was no response. Had she gone into the jungle by herself?

I hurriedly shook Fatty Wang awake and said, "Get up quickly, Shirley Yang is missing."

The fat man stumbled and sat up, saying, "You damned bearded man! I was dreaming about unearthing a huge tomb, and before I even touched any gold or silver, you ruined it all! Miss Yang probably went to the woods to take care of some private business, didn't she?!"

I gave him a flick on the forehead and said, "Fatty, wake up! Stop talking nonsense and get up to come with me to find someone."

Just as we were about to go look for Shirley Yang, we suddenly heard a familiar call from the beach. In the water, a large group of dolphins leaped and swam towards us, gurgling as they danced.

We went down to the water's edge, and the lead dolphin, the King of Dolphins, with its deep purple scars, held a delicate, glittering little box in its long snout, gesturing to us.

I took the box. The King of Dolphins nodded as if by magic, and the dolphin formation receded like the tide, diving far underwater.

The box is made entirely of copper, with a flat and long body. It is decorated with five auspicious beasts* patterns, giving it an antique feel and making it look very precious, like a treasure box that was collected by an ancient family.

I tried it, and it fits perfectly. There must be a mechanism or spring that makes it difficult to open.

The fat man leaned over and said, "Could it be a treasure? Let's break it open and see."

I tossed it to him and said, "You figure it out yourself. I need to go find Shirley Yang first."

The fat man hurriedly stuffed it into his pocket and said to me, "Yes, it's more important to find Shirley Yang first."

We found Shirley Yang's footprints under a palm tree and followed them.

At first, it was easy to walk, but later the fallen leaves underfoot were so thick that they were indistinguishable, the trees overhead were towering and blocking out the sun, and vines grew all around, so there was no way to walk and I had to squeeze through sideways.

The woods were eerily quiet and gloomy. The fat man, panting, complained, "Shirley Yang is really brave; how dare she come in alone?"

As I walked ahead, I was also puzzled, unable to figure out what was going on.

I was walking with my head down when suddenly the fat man whispered, "Old Hu, stop! Don't look up, don't move!"

I knew something was wrong, and glancing over, I saw a foot-long green snake slowly crawling down from the palm tree trunk diagonally above. It flicked its long, blood-red tongue, and its eyes gleamed with a sinister light. Its triangular head, like a red-hot iron, was glowing bright red, and two long, curved fangs protruded from its mouth. Most strangely, it had a pair of thin, fleshy wings, like fish fins, clinging tightly to its back.

I was terrified. I thought to myself, "This isn't just a venomous snake, it's an unprecedented species. I absolutely mustn't let it bite me, or I'm definitely done for."

I held the black folding book in one hand and secretly reached behind my back with the other hand to gesture to the fat man.

In the blink of an eye, the snake's fleshy wings unfurled, and it leaped towards me.

I jerked my head back, and the green snake flew over my head, its tail slapping against a banana tree. It spun in the air and then suddenly lunged back.

With lightning speed, the fat man pounced down from mid-air, his Swiss Army knife slicing through iron like mud, cleanly cleaving the flying snake in two at the waist.

The snake's head continued its downward momentum, biting into the palm tree trunk. That piece of bark instantly turned jet black.

I tapped it a few times with the black folding tool, but the snake's fangs were stuck too deep into the tree trunk. The snake's head was smashed, but it still hadn't come off.

The fat man stomped hard on the still-wriggling green snake's hindquarters, burying his foot in the ground. He spat a few times and said, "Damn it, what kind of snake is this? It's so strange."

I couldn't help but feel anxious. Shirley Yang was venturing alone into such a forest, her fate uncertain. It was terrifying for her to be alone in such a place.

The fat man reached down and plucked a bunch of ripe wild bananas from the banana tree, giving me half and saying, "Old Hu, don't rush, we'll look for more while we eat." I figured Shirley Yang wouldn't make a mistake.

Before he could finish speaking, a short, sharp scream suddenly rang out from the depths of the jungle, then vanished in an instant.

(Note: The Five Blessing Beasts are animal patterns often carved on household items in ancient my country, such as dragons, phoenixes, unicorns, deer, bats, and magpies, to convey good fortune through homophones.)

Volume 1, Ancient Tomb at the Cape, Chapter 13, The Isolated Island (2)

I looked in the direction of the sound and vaguely saw a woman's white figure flash by deep in the forest, disappearing behind the tall trees. It was too far away to see clearly if it was Shirley Yang.

I called out a few times, but there was no response from the depths of the jungle.

I strode over, parted the vines, and found the area behind the tall coconut trees empty, without a single person or footprint.

That's strange, I clearly saw it, could I be seeing things?!

The fat man hurried over and asked, "What's wrong, Lao Hu? Did you throw away the poisonous banana and run away, or did you find something?"

I looked at him strangely and said, "Didn't you hear that scream just now?"

"No screaming at all," the fat man said, listening intently before looking at me.

I looked at the fat man; he didn't seem to be joking. Could it really be my imagination?!

Even if I misheard, what's with that white figure? Am I seeing things?

Suddenly, a piercing hoot of an owl echoed through the woods. In an instant, the hairs on my body stood on end, and I felt a chilling atmosphere all around me, as if countless ghostly eyes were staring at me.

I looked up abruptly, startled, and took several steps back, almost falling to the ground.

The fat man looked up and saw it too, and was so frightened that he shivered.

In the gloomy, sunless forest, beneath the canopies of tall coconut trees, hung ghostly corpses. They could no longer be called corpses; after countless years of wind and rain, only bare bones remained, their flesh either completely decomposed or torn apart and eaten by other animals.

Their heads were still intact, their faces withered and black, smiling mysteriously, their vacant eyes staring intently at us. Thick ropes were still tightly tied around their necks.

What's most strange is that they were all still wearing intact coats, well-tailored dark black 18th-century Western-style knight coats with gold thread.

A gentle breeze blows, and the skeletons sway and dance within the oversized coat, like piles of bones dancing lightly and silently atop the treetops, sending chills down one's spine.

The fat man counted them; there were at least fifty or sixty bodies.

I steadied myself, took out my one-eyed binoculars, and looked closely. I discovered that whenever the wind blew, a gold-threaded skull emblem would appear under the inner hem of their black cloaks.

"They're pirates," I said to the fat man, handing him the binoculars.

The fat man looked at it and nodded.

For some unknown reason, or perhaps due to infighting over the division of spoils, they were hanged from the coconut trees here as a warning to others.

Suddenly, the fat man, holding a Swiss Army knife, pointed at the tallest coconut tree in the distance and shouted in a deep voice, "Who's there? Come out!"

I looked up and saw the tip of a dark black boot peeking out slightly from under the roots of a coconut tree that was as thick as a person's embrace; someone was hiding behind the tree.

We both darted behind a tree, extremely nervous.

On this deserted island in the sea, could there be someone hiding there? My first thought was, could they be pirates?

After waiting for a long time, the other party still didn't make a sound, not even moving their toes.

I gave the fat man a wink, and we darted out to the left and right, flanking and encircling the enemy.

In this desolate island jungle littered with skeletons, every step is fraught with danger. It's better to turn the tables and strike decisively, otherwise you'll die knowing why.

When we got closer, we realized it was a false alarm.

Only a black boot, made of the same material and style as the cloak on the skeleton, with gold thread, was placed neatly behind the tree, making it seem at first glance that someone was hiding behind the tree.

The fat guy laughed loudly and was about to kick him.

I grabbed him. Suddenly, the boot shook violently.

A fleshy, green snake suddenly flew out of the boot.

With a downward chop, I struck the flying snake hard on its vital spot with the black folding staff in my hand. The flying snake immediately fell to the ground, struggling and rolling around.

The fat man picked up a large rock and hurled it at the snake's head. Blood splattered everywhere, and the snake's head was smashed into a pulp; it was clearly dead.

I poked the black boot with the black folding tool, and when it didn't move, I turned it over.

Upon closer inspection, we discovered that the boots were woven from an extremely fine red spider silk mixed with a gelatinous thread, which explains their sturdiness, durability, and longevity.

It seems that the black cloaks on those skeletons are also made of this material. I breathed a sigh of relief.

The fat man dug out a gleaming long knife from the fallen leaves under the tree roots. It looked like the command sword used by Japanese soldiers in movies. There was a line of English letters engraved on the green rusty hilt, but they were illegible. It looked like the owner's name.

I said, "Let's not watch anymore, let's wait until we see Shirley Yang."

With a wave of his hand, the fat man slashed at the coconut tree with his long knife, which immediately embedded itself in the trunk.

"Good knife," I praised. There's no suitable weapon right now, this knife is perfect for the fat man to use for self-defense.

We tidied ourselves up and hurried forward to search.

As I was leaving, I turned around and suddenly realized that the same white figure was still under the tree by the way I had come, disappearing in a flash.

I had a bad feeling, wondering if it was a wronged ghost. Finding Shirley Yang was the priority right now, so I decided to ignore it.

Last night we stayed on the south shore of the island, and now, using a compass, we're heading straight north, hacking our way through the undergrowth.

With the fat guy in front, clearing the way with his newly acquired military knife, we made things much easier.

The entire journey was fraught with difficulty, as the vines and trees with their gnarled roots were intertwined. Fortunately, there was a type of aerial vine with round leaves that, when cut open with a knife, revealed a hollow stem from which clear water gushed out, allowing us to drink our fill and quench our thirst for the time being.

I don't know how long we scrambled through the trees, but we ended up in a tall coconut grove.

The fat man looked up and exclaimed in surprise.

Hanging from the treetops ahead were the skeletons of pirates, draped in black cloaks, swaying in the wind.

We found ourselves back in the coconut grove.

I thought for a moment, then suddenly remembered the white figure and said, "Oh no, it's a ghost wall."

Volume 1, Ancient Tomb at the Cape, Chapter 14, The Isolated Island (3)

The term "ghost wall" refers to a mysterious phenomenon where, in a specific environment such as mountains, cemeteries, dense forests, or tall reed meadows where visibility is limited, an erroneous magnetic field emanating from something unclean (a spirit or the resentment of the dead) affects the brainwaves of passersby. This, combined with the complex natural terrain of the surrounding environment, prevents the person from escaping, causing panic. It is not that a vengeful spirit actually transforms into a wall of energy, causing people to bump into obstacles and be unable to get out.

The fat man had also heard of this saying, and turned to ask me, "That's not right, isn't the phenomenon of being trapped in a ghost wall only found in graveyards?"

I said, "That's not necessarily true. The magnetic field created by so many unburied corpses of evil people and such heavy resentment is no less than that of a huge mass grave."

"What should we do then?" the fat man asked anxiously.

I shook my head. Right now, we are severely lacking in equipment. Apart from a few black donkey hooves that had been soaked in seawater in our packs, we have no other options.

I touched the talisman hanging around my neck. It was the real deal. Fatty and I had been wearing it all along, which helped to keep the last bit of yang energy in our hearts from going out, preventing us from being possessed by vengeful spirits and losing our minds.

I looked around at the complex terrain. No matter which way I looked, it was all the same, and there was no way to escape. It seemed that I had no choice but to take a gamble.

Having made up my mind, I said to Fatty, "As the saying goes, people are afraid of ghosts three parts, but ghosts are afraid of people seven parts. We're young and strong, with our yang energy at its peak, let's go for it."

"That's true," the fat man shouted. "I've always been a villain. Come on, you fearless fools, come out and fight me three hundred rounds!"

The white, ghostly figure suddenly appeared in the distant jungle, then vanished in a flash. This time, Fatty saw it too; he exclaimed and pointed it out to me.

I nodded. I had already seen it; it was she who was using the pirate bone formation in this coconut grove to cause trouble.

We chased after the white figure, but in the blink of an eye, she was gone again.

The fat man muttered, "Too fast, damn it."

The fat man turned his head to speak to me, but instantly showed a look of fear and made a shushing gesture.

A chilling, inhuman wind blew past the back of my head. I knew something was wrong and froze instantly.