Chapter 14: Half a Corpse

At this moment, I regained my composure. With so much mercury here, how could anything living possibly survive? Mercury is highly toxic. But then I suddenly recalled reading in a book that Emperor Qin Shi Huang's tomb was said to contain a river of mercury, with his coffin floating upon it, and that opening the burial chamber would release its deadly fumes.

Moreover, there are many records about mercury, especially those that mention its use in preserving corpses. Many high-ranking nobles in ancient times, after death, would have their bodies infused with mercury to better preserve them. Some even had mercury poured into the bodies of young boys and girls so that, after death, they would remain pristine—an act of utmost cruelty.

With that thought, I instinctively took a step back. The fumes of mercury are poisonous, yet, apart from a faint scent, I couldn't detect the usual metallic odor. Could it be that the mercury had lost its potency with age?

I was puzzled, but with all this mercury, how was I supposed to find the ancient King Guli? Was I to jump in and dive for him? That would be pure madness—certain death.

Just as I was at my wit’s end, the pale blue clouds above suddenly began to move, swirling in circles. If it weren't for the ominous setting, the sight would have been beautiful. The clouds spun faster and faster, tightening a sense of foreboding in my chest.

As I circled the stone coffin, I suddenly tripped over something. Looking down, I saw a corpse—or rather, half of one. The entire lower half was missing, not cleanly severed but torn apart as if gnawed by something.

Even with my usual boldness, I was startled. At first, I assumed it was one of the group who had come before me. But on closer inspection, I realized the upper half was intact, and the clothing wasn’t that of a mountaineer, but rather… the attire of the Tomb Guardians. Yes, that’s why it looked familiar—when I first entered the mountains, I’d seen people in the village dressed like this.

Their garments resembled those of the Miao people as seen on television, though without the abundance of silver ornaments. Could this man be a fellow Tomb Guardian, one of my own people?

But how had he come to such a brutal end here? I looked around but saw nothing unusual, only a broken short knife gripped tightly in his blackened hand—he’d been dead for years. I also noticed that, aside from the right hand clutching the knife, his left hand was also tightly closed around something.

Summoning my courage, I crouched down and tried to pry his fist open. At first, it wouldn’t budge. As I put more strength into it, I muttered under my breath, “Brother, I am also one of the Tomb Guardians. Our fates are entwined. Forgive my intrusion.”

No sooner had I finished speaking than his skeletal fingers suddenly gave way. There was a piece of paper within—a handwritten letter, written in blood.

The characters were in traditional script, faded with age but still legible. The message read:

“I am Jiang Xunyu, ninety-first generation of the Tomb Guardians, who violated the ancestral rules by entering without permission, and so met this end. Yet my heart is not at peace. If the evil mother-gu is not destroyed, our people will never know freedom. Forgive me, ancestors. Let those who come after beware: the mother-gu is most perilous. Be cautious.”

What was written wasn’t long, but it shook me deeply. Evil gu? Mother-gu? Could it be the legendary gu insects of the Miao region?

I turned and looked at the pale blue swirls above. Were these insects, gu worms?

Could it be that this man died here before even opening the coffin? How did he die, and why am I unharmed? As I pondered, the blue clouds above began to spin more rapidly, their color shifting and swirling, painting the cave in shifting hues.

At that moment, the stone coffin beside me started to shake violently, as if something inside was struggling to break free. I hurriedly stuffed the blood letter into my pocket and stepped back. The trembling grew more intense, and mercury began to spill out, drop by drop.

Then, to my utter astonishment, a flower shot up from within the coffin—a Corpse Scent Flower—and rapidly extended, its stem wrapping around the lid. With a life of its own, it began to pull the lid back into place.

I don’t know what came over me then, but I was seized by a wild impulse. Glancing at the half-corpse, I gritted my teeth and kicked the lid with all my might. The flower, caught off guard, let the lid clatter to the ground. It wasn’t made of stone, or it wouldn’t have been so light.

Just then, the pale blue insects surged toward me. Startled, I realized there was nowhere to hide. Yet as they drew close, they suddenly stopped, hovering about ten meters away, as if awaiting orders.

The Corpse Scent Flower continued to pull at the lid. Gritting my teeth, I raised the short knife and hacked through the stem, grabbing it and pulling with all my strength, desperate to see what lay at its root. By now, I wasn’t thinking about anything else. Seeing that half-corpse, I knew I might end up the same, and since I didn’t expect to live long anyway, fear had lost its hold over me.

The flower was astonishingly strong. Even after I cut it, it retracted with great force, and I couldn’t budge it no matter how hard I pulled. Suddenly, smaller tendrils shot out, wrapping around my body. Unprepared, I found myself quickly ensnared, being pulled toward the coffin. In my panic, I braced both feet against the coffin’s side, managing to hold my ground.

Now, nothing else mattered. I drew my pistol and fired a burst at the coffin. The gunshots thundered through the cavern, drowning out the sound of my heartbeat.

After the barrage, the thumping heartbeat ceased, and the coffin stopped shaking. I hastily holstered my gun and pulled again with all my might, finally breaking free. The Corpse Scent Flower recoiled swiftly into the mercury.

Without hesitation, I opened my backpack and rummaged for tools. Surrounded by the blue insects, with nowhere to run, I realized that if even one bit me, I'd be doomed. Suddenly, it occurred to me that perhaps the fallen tribesman had died from their bites. Yet, why hadn’t they attacked me?

As I searched through my bag, I was disappointed to find only some basic folding tools—nothing useful for the situation at hand.

Just as I was at a loss, my hand brushed against a grenade. I was surprised—those people had not only guns and explosives but even grenades. However, after searching, I found only this one.

But for now, it would have to do. I pulled the pin and tossed it into the coffin, then turned and ran toward the blue cloud. Just as I neared it, a thunderous explosion erupted behind me. Mercury splattered everywhere, but strangely, it still lacked any poisonous smell. The blue insects seemed terrified of the coffin. After the blast, they scattered in confusion.

Turning back, I saw that the coffin was only partially shattered—remarkable craftsmanship. Mercury was now spilling out, and the heartbeat resumed. I hurried over, determined to see what lay inside.

What I saw stunned me—a huge heart lay within the coffin, wrapped in the tendrils of the Corpse Scent Flower, which seemed to sprout from the base of the coffin. A green blossom bloomed at the heart’s center, and the heart itself was nearly as large as half a person.

There was no sign of King Guli’s corpse—indeed, there was no body at all, only this heart-like thing.

I wasn’t even sure if it was a heart—it was so enormous, and the steady “thump, thump” came from it, visibly pulsing.

As the mercury drained away, the Corpse Scent Flower seemed to panic, retracting and releasing its grip on the heart, little by little.

I stared intently at the heart, sensing that something was hidden within. What was this thing? This must be the very heart of the altar—the entire structure must have been built for it.

But why was King Guli not here? Where was his body? I was filled with questions, but this was no time for reflection.

Astonishingly, the heart was unscathed by the grenade. I didn’t know if bullets would have any effect, so I raised my pistol and fired at close range. The 54-type pistol has a strong recoil and great penetration—at this distance, it could pierce steel.

Three shots rang out, and pale blue liquid oozed from the heart. Only then did I realize that the grenade had indeed wounded it—on the far side, blue fluid was everywhere, though I hadn’t noticed before. I didn’t know what this meant, but as I reloaded, ready to fire again, something unexpected happened.