Histoires de fantômes

Chapitre 151

A huge mass of water bubbles, as large as washbasins, rose from far below, whistling and tumbling past me as they surged upwards. The water around me churned and surged like a pot of water about to boil. I felt myself falling, as if entering a high-altitude observation elevator, the dark stone walls flashing silently and rapidly before my eyes like fleeting shadows, making me dizzy.

I turned around, and a dark gray miniature submarine briefly appeared in my line of sight, but only for a moment. My vision created an illusion, as if it were rushing straight up to the surface of the water.

My descent abruptly stopped, and I had to lunge forward, trying to grab onto something to steady myself. The dizzying sensation almost made me vomit. But thankfully, I managed to grab onto something—a spinning wheel, it really was it, because I was standing right outside the two doors described by Guan Baoling.

The door was tightly shut. I spotted a pink lotus-shaped key and immediately reached for it. The key was firmly embedded in the keyhole, unmoving and chillingly cold. On the other door, there was a small keyhole, completely filled with purplish-black deep-sea algae.

The two doors were installed flush with the stone wall, and I remained suspended outside them, with the bottomless black abyss still beneath my feet. In the absence of any light source, only the silver-gray doors emitted an eerie, bluish-gray glow.

The lone lotus key embedded in it naturally reminded me of the blood lotus on the snow-capped peaks of Tibet—as a variant of the snow lotus, the blood lotus is extremely rare and so valuable that it is worth exchanging for a piece of pure gold of the same volume.

This key is 100% identical to the pattern tattooed on the plague's arm, so what is the connection between the plague and these two doors?

There are many coincidences in the world. When Xiao Keleng and I first saw the plague-infected arm, we thought it was a lotus pattern that the tattoo artist found in some art book library and happened to match the key in the clock by chance. So, this time, seeing the same pattern again in the deep sea, it can no longer be explained by "coincidence".

"Has the plague been here? Or does the plague know something about the key to the lotus?"

There may be countless hypothetical answers to this kind of question, but I know there is only one standard answer, and that answer must come directly from the mouth of the plague.

Part 3: Wind, Forest, Fire, and Mountain

— Chapter 1 — The King of Tomb Raiders, Yang Tian Arrives (Part 2) —

I tried turning the wheel, but it seemed frozen in place, not moving an inch. Having reached the door, I was unwilling to stop here, so I pushed on the door several times, but as expected, it remained firmly shut—"Could there be another underwater world inside?"

At that depth, even a crack in the door would be enough for the powerful water pressure to force it open instantly, filling every inch of the space inside with water. Thinking about this, I suddenly felt deflated. My wishful thinking—that "there's someone behind the door, maybe my older brother Yang Tian"—burst like a soap bubble.

Even though the eldest brother has mastered the "lungs of a mermaid," he wouldn't hide himself in the dark depths of the sea for long. A great hero like him, with the world in his heart, would never confine himself to the depths and become an unknown clown in the ocean.

Disappointed, I released the spinning wheel, took a step back, and examined the seam between the two doors and the stone wall.

The door is about six meters wide and three meters high, fitting perfectly into the stone wall, as if some magical force had forcibly crammed the door frame into the rock, without a trace of human carving. This is fundamentally different from the entrance to the former Soviet underwater armory I once visited; compared to this door, the latter was simply an extremely clumsy children's craft project.

Above, below, and behind me, all I see is the vast, boundless sea. At this moment, I am all alone, standing here. If I cannot search inside the door, everything Shao Hei has done today with his "mind-reading technique" will be nothing but a ridiculous and pointless farce, utterly devoid of any practical value.

"Do you want to... go through the door?" Shao Hei's weak breathing sounded in my ear.

“Yes, what’s behind the door? If we just rush through this place and only glance at it superficially, it’s worthless and won’t help us uncover the strange well beneath the meditation hall. Wouldn’t all our efforts have been in vain?” I mustn’t let my spirits wane. When I realized that there was another underwater world behind the door, my anxious and impatient mood had subsided considerably.

Actually, my only purpose in coming to Hokkaido was to find clues related to the whereabouts of my elder brother Yang Tian. Even the fact that I deliberately stayed at Fengge Temple to wake up Tengjia was just to figure out the contents of the "Blue Heaven and Yellow Springs Sutra" and build a possible action network for searching for my elder brother.

I will spare no effort to do anything related to my elder brother, treating it as the most important thing in my life.

“I’ll try again… The depth you’re at now has exceeded my remote sensing limits, Boss Zhang. Let’s… count down together. After all… this is… a groundbreaking attempt… ten, nine, eight, seven, six…”

Shao Hei's physical condition depended entirely on the strength and speed of the internal energy Zhang Baisen infused into him. I approached the door again, gripping the lotus key in both hands, hoping for a miracle so I could take it with me. Regardless of how the two keys were used, I wanted to have them together, to hold them both in my hands.

Or perhaps I also possess the same innate nature as my elder brother, the "King of Tomb Raiders," with an unparalleled fondness for exquisite and beautiful antiques. I exerted force twice, gripping the key tightly and pulling it out, but to no avail. I could only sigh in despair, "Perhaps I really need a powerful pair of pliers to pull this key out?"

My sigh suddenly echoed, because in an instant, my body had entered the doorway, my back pressed against the cold, hard door.

Inside the doorway, there wasn't a drop of water; the air was dry and pure, and the floor was a hard, flat black stone. As far as the eye could see, a flat passageway, the same width and height as the doorway, stretched forward. There were no lights, only the faint white light emanating from the stone walls.

I gently touched the stone wall, and by touch, I could tell that this passageway was carved into an ordinary volcanic rock mountain. Standing here, I suddenly felt a profound sense of disappointment, as if all my hopes had been dashed. I had originally imagined that behind the iron gate lay an alien base on Earth, a secret weapons design factory of a major power, or a treasure vault of modern pirates.

"There's nothing here. Where does the passage lead?" I tried to take a step forward, and when I pressed my finger against the stone wall again, I suddenly noticed a line of large, straight characters carved on it.

At this moment, my palm is pressed against a very familiar Han Dynasty clerical script character "杨" (Yang). The reason I can recognize it instantly is because it is the earliest and most frequently written character I have ever known since I started learning to read. In the years I have been studying ancient Chinese characters, I have memorized all forty-five ways of writing the character "杨" so thoroughly that I will never forget them for the rest of my life.

At this moment, I am standing in an underwater cave several thousand meters deep in Hokkaido, Japan. It seems that there should be ancient Chinese characters here, and of course, it is the character "Yang".

I coughed loudly, trying to bolster my courage while inhaling and exhaling to calm my pounding heart. The character following "Yang"—two horizontal strokes, a left-falling stroke, and a right-falling stroke—clearly formed the character "Tian" (天), meaning "sky." Put together, it was "Yang Tian"—I screamed "Ah!" and suddenly somersaulted backward, forgetting my surroundings. First my head, then my shoulders, back, waist, and knees slammed against the stone wall before I landed with a thud.

The characters are carved on the stone wall, and the strokes have not been filled with other colors. They blend completely into the background and lack strong light, so they are hard to notice unless you touch them with your own hands.

I froze for at most five seconds before suddenly shouting, "Big brother—big brother, is that you in there? Is that you? It's me, Feng, your own brother!" Cold sweat poured down my forehead, my fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my flesh. I couldn't tell if I was hallucinating or in reality.

Since the elder brother's name is engraved on the stone wall, it can be said with absolute certainty that this mysterious underwater structure is related to him.

Ecstasy, confusion, tension, depression... My heart felt like a jumble of emotions, my blood was rushing through my veins, and my heart rate was at least twice as fast.

The passageway was extremely quiet, and the area beyond the limit of vision was dim and blurry, like an endless, hazy dream.

No one answered. I looked behind me; two rotating wheels were mounted on the dark blue door, corresponding to the outside. Beyond this door lay the deep sea, a bottomless abyss, and I stood there alone. What awaited me ahead? Could it be my elder brother, the "King of Tomb Raiders," Yang Tian, who had been missing for fifteen years?

I lunged at the stone wall, gathered my inner strength, and saw the words clearly: "Yang Tian, the King of Tomb Raiders, has arrived." It was in authentic Han Dynasty clerical script, with neat strokes and full of spirit. Moreover, the characters were carved by hand using internal energy combined with external hard skills, without any hammering, chiseling, or axe.

The scalpel once told me that when my elder brother was famous throughout the martial arts world, he had mastered all the traditional martial arts of various Asian countries. He could even use the "Seventy-Two Shaolin Arts," which were regarded as a treasure of martial arts for thousands of years, at will. Judging from the flowing strokes of the brush, I could tell that they were the "One-Finger Zen" and "Vajra Finger" from the Shaolin arts.

After reading this sentence, I felt a surge of inexplicable joy, and my hands, which were pressed against the stone wall, began to tremble uncontrollably.

"My elder brother has been here—Xunfu Garden, Lotus Key, Undersea Tomb… all of them are undoubtedly connected to him. How did he get in? Was it with the 'Mermaid Lungs' technique or some mysterious ancient escape technique? What did he find? Where is he? Will he appear at the end of the passageway? Is he still alive?"

Below this line of Han Dynasty clerical script, there is another line of the same text, but in the style of ancient Wei Dynasty stele inscriptions. Below the Wei Dynasty stele inscriptions, there are several consecutive lines of Tang Dynasty cursive script, Qin Dynasty small seal script, Warring States period large seal script, bronze inscriptions, oracle bone script, tadpole script... all repeating the sentence above.

"Why does my brother keep repeating this sentence? Is it an unconscious action caused by being too excited? Or is there a deeper meaning, and he is writing it for some strange person to see?"

I turned around, my eyes adjusted to the light, and saw the same sentence written densely on the opposite wall, but in different languages: English, French, Portuguese, Esperanto, Japanese, Russian, Spanish... The bottom few lines even used very obscure Native American languages, Kanyana language from French Guiana, Icelandic, Tibetan, Uyghur, and Mongolian.

Given his status and position, it's unlikely he'd be so arrogant as to repeatedly emphasize that he'd been here. I suspect he deliberately intended for someone else to see it, because the language barrier was too great for communication, hence the constant attempts to use different languages. In other words, besides him, at least one other person had been to this passageway.

No matter what, I have to go into the passageway to see—even if what I find there is my brother's corpse.

My body suddenly trembled violently, and I shouted out, denying my previous thought: "Big Brother won't die! He'll never die! The scalpel knows Big Brother best. He said Big Brother will never die..." Death, becoming a legendary mermaid, turning into a demon... all sorts of bizarre thoughts rushed in at the same time. Half of my body went numb. I only managed to take two difficult steps forward before staggering and leaning against the stone wall.

I don't understand why, but whenever I encounter anything involving my older brother Yang Tian, my body impulsively loses control. Actually, the image of him that remains in my memory is very small; what I have are just fragmented images, far less exciting than the "story of the King of Tomb Raiders" that I heard from the scalpel.

The character I was stepping on was "Yang," the most standard simplified Chinese character from mainland China. However, the sentence only went up to "Yang Tian, the King of Tomb Raiders," before stopping. It seemed that the writer was attracted by something that had suddenly happened and immediately stopped and left, leaving only this half-sentence.

If I'm not mistaken, my brother is probably planning to write this sentence in every language he knows on Earth, if time allows.

Previously, whenever his elder brother's extensive knowledge was mentioned, Scalpel would feel ashamed. He always believed that, given the ability of Earthlings to learn, even the most brilliant talent could not reach one percent of his elder brother's level.

All the answers lie in the passageway ahead. I took a deep breath, pushed hard against the stone wall with my palms, and sprang forward, eager to uncover the final mystery in one step.

Part 3: Wind, Forest, Fire, and Mountain

— Chapter 2 - The Ancestral Precepts of the Shao Family (Part 1) —

Suddenly, the lights came on, and a wave of dizziness, like the world spinning around me, made me groan and collapse to the ground. The blue brick floor was still as cold as ice. I didn't rush into the passageway, but instead fell back to reality from the hallucination, right in front of Shao Hei's bed.

I immediately sprang to my feet and blurted out, "No, don't stop—"

Zhang Baisen slowly stood up, released Shao Hei's hand, and took a deep breath.

I hadn't fully recovered from the hallucination when I lunged to the bedside to grasp Shao Hei's hand, only to find that his face had turned from ashen to deathly pale, his eye sockets were deeply sunken, and the corners of his mouth were twitching nervously. His hand was no longer cold, but it was noticeably swollen.

“Don’t disturb him, Feng. He’s only half a step away from dying. This ‘moth to a flame’ action has completely exhausted his life force, and I’m afraid there’s no way to save him. What did you see?” After taking three deep breaths, Zhang Baisen raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, showing great interest in my thoughts and experiences.

What did I see? All illusions need to be verified by reality. If there really is a mysterious world hidden under the meditation hall, I think I must have already discovered my brother Yang Tian's whereabouts.

"Yang Tian, the King of Tomb Raiders, has arrived—" I silently recited the words carved on the stone wall, and the blood in my chest began to boil again.

"Is there any other way to help him recover? We should send him to a high-end hospital in Sapporo..." I avoided Zhang Baisen's question. Those discoveries should belong to me, and it was not convenient to disclose them at the moment. Zhang Baisen's semi-official and semi-civilian status always made me wary.

"Wind...wind, don't...go, don't...go..." Shao Hei's lips moved, struggling to utter a few words. His eyelids fluttered heavily a few times, but he was too weak to open his eyes.

Zhang Baisen sighed, "No need for further explanation. Since he has decided to fully unleash his body's remote sensing potential, it seems his original intention was to seek death. This is strange. The brothers' reputation and status in the martial arts world are at their peak, and their future is bright. Why would Xiao Shao suddenly have the intention to die?"

His square face was filled with regret and confusion. Even in a great country like China, it is rare to find a national treasure like Shao Hei. His passing at Fengge Temple is undoubtedly a huge loss to the Chinese community.

Time passed, and the tycoon next door and Guan Baoling were still chatting. Occasionally, Guan Baoling could be heard covering her mouth and laughing. I never imagined that she and the tycoon would get along so well. The rumors of a "sugar daddy" relationship seemed inadequate to accurately describe their relationship.

Shao Hei groaned, then flicked his finger towards the door: "Please...my e in..."

I quickly opened the door, welcoming the fresh, chilly air that rushed in.

Shao Bai and Xiao Keleng stood side by side under the eaves. They were reluctant to leave because they were concerned about Shao Hei's "mind-reading technique," but they also wanted to give up the next room to Daheng and Guan Baoling. The only solution was to stand there with their arms crossed, letting the cold night wind and frost blow against them.

"Mr. Shao Bai, please come in," I called softly.

Shao Bai shivered, lowered his arm, and suddenly looked up at the sky and sighed, "Heaven has ordained this calamity. I can't escape it, I can't break it. What should I do?" The wind whipped his disheveled hair, making him tremble and look even more wretched.

“Mr. Shao Bai, your younger brother is not doing well. Please come in quickly.” I repeated.

There were no monks on guard duty in sight; the walls and rooftops were completely empty, with only remnants of white snow remaining.

As the eastern sky began to lighten, I realized that I had been in a hallucination for at least five hours, from midnight until dawn.

“I know, it’s more than just not good; it’s basically a dying state of lucidity before death.” Shao Bai ran his hands through his messy hair like two giant rakes, scratching back and forth. He stared at me with a strange look in his eyes, as if he were gazing at an incomprehensible ancient book or a chaotic abstract painting, trying to decipher it.

My thoughts were in utter disarray, for the sights I had witnessed in these five hours were far more awe-inspiring than browsing Guan Baoling's paintings. At the very least, I had come close to the ending I desired: my elder brother's message, the lotus key, the Japanese soldier in the shrine, the ancient sword of the Yagami school… Physical exhaustion only amplified mental fatigue, but I dared not sleep. I had to have a cold talk with Xiao Ke, lest I wake up and miss too many underwater details.

"Wind, where do you come from? Why would Second Brother willingly go to such lengths to help you? Our Shao family's special arts can only be used once, and cannot be weakened or exhausted after a second or third attempt. Second Brother has violated the ancestral teachings, and as his only brother, I have tried to persuade him many times with heartfelt words. I cannot stop him from doing what he likes, even if the tragic consequences are unpredictable. Did I do something wrong? Or is Second Brother wrong...?"

He staggered into the house, his toes tripping on the threshold, and he almost fell over.

"What is he saying?" Xiao Ke's face was full of weariness, but he forced a smile at me.

I shook my head, pondering where to begin telling her what I had just seen and heard.

"Sister Su Lun called once with the latest intelligence from the Pentagon. She's been waiting for your call. Should we call her back now?" Xiao Ke held the phone tightly in her hand, her eyebrows and hair already damp with the cold dew of the night.

I'm quite interested in Yan Xun, who mysteriously infiltrates the Pentagon. I wonder what abilities she possesses that allow her to obtain American intelligence so quickly and transmit it so promptly on more than one occasion. This is an extremely dangerous job. As the core of the US military, the Pentagon's "three-dimensional perimeter security system" is one of the most advanced defense measures in the world. Could it be that Yan Xun has remained undetected all this time?

"What's going on? Tell me the gist of it!" I didn't want my train of thought to be interrupted.

"Okay, the intelligence involves several unsolved mysteries left over from World War II. After sixty years of development and evolution, there has been a sudden and significant change in the last month."

I couldn't help but frown. There was no time to talk about history right now; it was more important to find a way to open the path to the meditation hall.

Xiao Keleng quickened his pace: "Mr. Feng, intelligence reports that before the U.S. surrender ceremony on September 2, 1945, the U.S. Combined Fleet carried out a special mission called 'Night Blindness,' with General MacArthur, the supreme commander of the surrender mission, in charge. At the time, the surrender ship USS Missouri was anchored in deep water in Tokyo Bay. According to intelligence from the U.S. super spy group that had infiltrated Tokyo, the radical hardliners in the Japanese military planned to sabotage the surrender ceremony, targeting twelve U.S. warships, including the USS Missouri, and devised an attack plan called 'Sunrise.' The person entrusted with this important task by the Imperial Household at the time was a legendary hero in the eyes of the Japanese, nicknamed 'Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain'..."

This narrative was a bit long, so I couldn't help but interject: "I know that person. He's a super multi-talented spy who fought on multiple battlefields in Northeast Asia, Southeast Asia, and South Asia during World War II. He received the 'Yamato Hero' combat medal, personally awarded by the Emperor eleven times, and was the chief intelligence officer for the 'Marco Polo Bridge Incident' during the Sino-Japanese War. Xiao, I'd rather hear news related to Fengge Temple than dredge up these old grievances."

There are countless monumental works discussing the history of World War II, with at least 100,000 books accumulated worldwide. This global war changed the lives of almost every family at the time and claimed the lives of more than 55 million people, truly a catastrophe of the 20th century.

Xiao Ke hurriedly brushed the short hair behind his ear and concluded in more concise terms: "Fūrin Kazan possessed a token that could mobilize the power of all Japanese ninjas. At the time, for some unknown reason, the 'Sunrise' plan was broken up midway, and he also suddenly disappeared with the 'Tennin Alliance' token, and has not been seen for nearly sixty years. However, three years ago, US military intelligence analysts concluded that the token had reappeared and was in the hands of Tanino Shinshu, a member of the Japanese tomb raiding community."

This news wasn't new to me. I had already heard about Tanino's relationship with the "Heavenly Ninja Alliance" from the black-clad female ninja who appeared in Youhuangshui County.

No matter how thrilling the stories of World War II were, they are now history buried in the dustbin of time, and it's not worth wasting energy on them anymore. Besides, the United States and Japan formed an economic strategic alliance in the late 20th century, putting all the dirty laundry from World War II behind them. They are now on friendly terms, drinking and laughing together. What's the point of bringing up old grievances now?

In Xiao Keleng's hands lay all the materials drawn by Guan Baoling, with a close-up of the ancient battle sword of the Yagami-ryu school placed on top. It seemed that the information these drawings could provide was nowhere near as valuable as the hallucinations I had experienced, especially regarding the strange underwater shrines; I had to figure out the meaning behind their existence.

I took out my phone and silently recited Xiao Yan's number. The number belonged to Hong Kong, but he might not be hiding somewhere in the world right now. As a globally sought-after figure in 2005, he was constantly evading electronic tracking by both the police and the underworld.

A skilled hacker is like a double-edged sword, capable of bringing benefits to a great power, but also posing a potential threat to its core secrets. Therefore, in many internet crackdowns and investigations, hackers who help the legitimate authorities are most likely to become strategic victims of the "killing the hunting dog after the rabbit is caught, and putting away the good bow after the birds are gone" principle.

I don't understand how much the tycoon and Guan Baoling have to talk about. They've been talking all night and there's no sign of them stopping. If it were us sitting together, would we have so much to say?

"Mr. Feng, based on Sister Yan Xun's view, the Pentagon will not allow unrest to occur in the East Asian underworld. The two countries are separated by the Pacific Ocean, with no obstruction to their view. If Japan successfully acquires some kind of powerful weapon of mass destruction, then more than a dozen major American cities will be under threat. Therefore, they will soon send experts over, so please be careful."

My mind wandered briefly, distracted by Guan Baoling's laughter.

“Mr. Feng—” Xiao Keleng suddenly sighed, his tone of “disappointment that he is not living up to his potential” was somewhat similar to that of Su Lun.

"Furthermore, the Sharpshooter Society's informants have noticed a large number of unidentified experts appearing north of Sapporo, all targeting the direction of Fuuki-ji Temple—"