Zhuo Xiong and Yichao quickly secured the unconscious people with climbing ropes. This way, even if anything went wrong, they wouldn't lose them, truly binding their fates together. Zha Wenbin thought that if Professor Wang were conscious right now, he would approve of this decision.
Leading the way, Zha Wenbin had his two brothers flanking him like trusty arms, ready to act because there was no turning back now—they couldn't just wait here to die.
As they passed the bend they had gone through earlier, the scene in front of Zha Wenbin made him take a step back. Zhuo Xiong couldn't hold it in and turned away to gag, while Yichao covered his mouth to suppress the nausea.
What did they see? The last bronze coffin had been opened, and the water pool, once filled with broken stones, was now entirely white. What made it even more disturbing was that these "whites" were moving, or rather, wriggling. Countless white worms were surging in from all sides, rolling and tangling together, their bodies stacked and overlapping, a dense mass that was impossible to count. All the worms seemed to converge toward the largest bronze coffin, creating a massive pyramid shape. Surrounding worms were crawling up the "tower," while more fell from the "tip," instantly vanishing into the sea of worms below. In an instant, the "worm tower" was nearly reaching the cliff's apex.
Zha Wenbin casually speared a worm that crawled close to them with his sword. This creature was about as long as a chopstick but as thick as a rolling pin, its fat white body twisting back and forth on the ground. Carefully turning it over, he noticed its underside was covered with countless tiny legs that wriggled incessantly, causing a chill to run down his spine.
Even more terrifying were its two black pincers on its mouth, about five centimeters long. Zha Wenbin tried to poke it with a stick he picked up from the ground, but the worm turned and snapped at the stick, slicing it in two with a "crack." The break was so clean it looked like it had been cut with a knife, showcasing just how sharp its pincers were.
Zhuo Xiong pointed at the writhing mass of worms on the ground, his nerves frayed. He finally blurted out, "Wenbin, what the heck are these things? They're gross! I grew up in Sichuan, and I've never seen anything like these worms!"
Zha Wenbin turned to Yichao and asked, "Yichao, you've spent years in the wild. What do you think these worms are?"
Holding his mouth, Yichao was gagging, but upon hearing Zha Wenbin's question, he finally lowered his hand: "I saw something like this once in Tibet."
Zha Wenbin furrowed his brow: "In Tibet? Tell me about it."
Yichao pointed at the worm and said, "This was back when I was in the army. One time a Tibetan herder lost his cows and came to our camp for help. Because Tibet has such a low population density and many uninhabited areas, herders often lost their livestock. When they can't find them, they come to ask for help. We prioritize military-civilian unity, especially with these local herders; our team took this matter seriously because a herd of cows means everything to them. Without hesitation, my instructor told me and the squad leader to ride horses and help the herder.
"Before we set off, we all packed food and water since we knew from past experiences that looking for lost cattle could take several days. The conditions in Tibet are harsh, and there are many wild beasts. We followed the cowprints and dung until we reached the foot of a snowy mountain and saw that the cows' tracks led up the slope.
"Cows rarely head uphill unless they're being chased by wolves, so my squad leader and I immediately decided to look up there, but the herder absolutely refused; he insisted on going back. We got pretty frustrated. We were already out here, and we had a lead—why wouldn't we check it out? The herder stuttered for a long time, but we couldn't understand, so we decided to proceed because the liberation army won't give up halfway to help.
"The herder, seeing our resolve, pulled on the reins and wouldn't let go. After a lot of gestures and yelling, we finally understood he was afraid to go up there. In their beliefs, many mountains and lakes hold spirits, and this one was not only sacred to him but also a burial site!"
Zha Wenbin interrupted, "A burial site?"
"Yeah, a sky burial—ask Zhuo Xiong, he's been to Tibet too." Zha Wenbin looked at Zhuo Xiong, who nodded in agreement: "I've heard they really perform sky burials there."
"Oh? What's that like?"
Yichao continued, "In a sky burial, a sky-burial master chooses a spot, usually on a mountaintop. The body is laid face-up towards the sky, limbs broken, and the skin on the belly and shoulders is torn open to expose the muscle. Then they step back and wait for vultures to descend and feast on the remains. Once the flesh is consumed and only the skeleton remains, the sky-burial master uses stones to crush the bones into paste, which attracts even more vultures to finish off the remnants. Afterward, onlookers bow and pay their respects.
Zha Wenbin replied, "What you're describing sounds similar to a practice we Han people once had. In the I Ching, there's a verse about funerals: 'The ancient way of burial involved thick clothing and firewood, buried in fields, neither sealed nor erected.' This means when someone dies, their body is placed in the wilderness, neither buried nor put in a coffin, left to be picked apart by beasts. Go on."
Yichao continued, "We were both young and fearless, desperate to do something meaningful during our time in Tibet. So we pressed the herder, gesturing that if he didn't help, he would lose his livelihood. Soon snow would trap the cows, and if we didn't hurry, they might freeze to death. Who would bear that loss?
"The herder, seeing his entire wealth in danger, finally relented, letting us go up with him to take a look. My squad leader and I were thrilled. The ascent was tough, and we had to lead the horses by foot. After half a day, we finally reached the summit as darkness began to fall. Following the cow tracks, we found a cow on the backside of the mountain. The herder said this was a leading bull, suggesting the rest of the herd must be close by. We had to act quickly before night fell; otherwise, they'd scatter again.
"Not long after, we followed the hoofprints to the mountain's rear and discovered numerous dead cows strewn over a two-hundred-square-meter area. When the herder saw his cows, his eyes went wide, and without a second thought, he dashed ahead with his hunting rifle. My squad leader and I, armed with our rifles, followed closely. Up close, we discovered that the cows showed no signs of injury, and a few still sighed heavily while lying down. The most alarming thing was that all the cows' stomachs were constantly moving, and the herder instinctively stepped back, refusing to seek revenge, insisting on turning back. Confused, my squad leader and I asked why they wouldn't fight back when so many cows had died; the herder gestured wildly, saying there was a devil, and all those cows had been sacrificed to it.
"Back then, my squad leader and I were materialists. We respected the herder's beliefs but didn't truly believe in devils. As we watched the cows that were still alive and breathing quiet down, we felt sorry for the herder's heavy loss. We wanted clarity about what had happened. My squad leader squatted next to a dead cow, pointing at its quivering belly and mused aloud, 'Yichao, look—why is this cow still moving?' I remarked, 'Why not open it and see?'
"My squad leader was more daring than I, pulling out his knife and slicing it open. The moment he did, a mass of white worms spilled out. One of them bit down on his knife, which was made of solid steel. When we checked, it had left a toothmark!
"Several of the worms crawled up my squad leader's leg, causing him to yell out in pain. I quickly tried to pry them away with my knife, but it just wouldn't budge. In the end, he yanked hard on the worm and, to our horror, tore off a chunk of skin and flesh with it.
"The herder, witnessing the writhing worms, cried out about devils and dragged his bull away, leaving us behind. As I finished bandaging my squad leader, I looked back at the dead herd, now reduced to mostly skeletons, as a mass of white worms began advancing toward us. I instinctively emptied a round into the worm mass, splattering goo all over myself. With more and more worms closing in, I had no choice but to carry my squad leader down the mountain. When we reached the base, we encountered the herder again, who treated my squad leader's leg with herbs. Before we managed to return to the camp, my squad leader was already suffering from fever, unconscious, and vomiting. Our instructor arranged for him to be sent to the military hospital in Lhasa that same night, and the doctors said the only reason he survived was due to the herbs that had mitigated the poison. However, he ended up having his leg amputated, permanently losing it. I remember what those worms looked like—they were just like this one," Yichao pointed to the worm in front of Zha Wenbin, "exactly the same!"
Zha Wenbin instinctively took a step back, pulling away from the worm, which ignored him and continued wiggling its plump body toward the larger group of worms.
Zhuo Xiong saw the frustration etched on Yichao's face and asked, "How did a bite from that worm cost your squad leader his leg?"
Yichao continued, "That day, I went to the hospital with our instructor. By the time I brought my squad leader back to the camp, he was already unconscious. When I pulled up his pant leg and removed the bandages, I saw a wound that measured the size of a small bowl and was nearly black. Even though it was cold in Tibet, I could already smell the stench from his leg. When we took off his shirt, we discovered the skin on his body had turned purple-black. I clutched my squad leader and drove him in an off-road vehicle, speeding straight to Lhasa, directly into the emergency room.
"When I explained the situation to the instructor outside, he couldn't believe this exemplary soldier, someone poised to be promoted, could be so severely harmed by a worm. But in Tibet, the mysteries never cease. The instructor cautioned me not to speak of this incident; it had to remain a secret.
"An hour later, the doctor emerged to discuss the situation with our instructor, explaining that amputation was the only option to save my squad leader. The instructor blew up, smashing several chairs in the process, then stormed into the director's office, demanding they return my squad leader unharmed. Eventually, this matter reached the upper echelons of military command. The instructor had once been just a small soldier under this commanding officer, who disciplined him harshly. After some elite doctors convened and consulted, they were instructed to devise a final plan.
"When the hospital staff treated my squad leader, many doctors got involved in the consultations. Their findings agreed with the initial assessment: amputation was essential to save his life. When the instructor heard the news, he punched through the glass of a fire extinguisher, nearly severing a tendon in his hand.
"The doctors closely examined the wound and found it wasn't due to blood loss but the injury was infested with black filaments that were rapidly infiltrating his bloodstream, destroying his bodily functions. However, the doctors were left helpless regarding this unknown black substance. It was so abundant, finer than a strand of hair, resembling silkworm silk, only it was black and extremely toxic!
"At this point, the black filaments had spread to his upper thighs. We put a tourniquet around the blood vessel to stop the bleeding but understood it wouldn't last. If blood flow stopped for too long, his leg would similarly die. Yet if we ignored it, the filaments might reach his internals, and that would be a death sentence.
"The military commander took the instructor aside and they smoked a cigarette together. A few minutes later, the instructor returned with red-rimmed eyes. The commander summoned the hospital authorities, insisting they arrange for surgery immediately.
"Two hours later, my squad leader was wheeled into the intensive care unit. The black coloration on his skin had faded, replaced by a sickly pale pallor due to excessive blood loss. The surgeon reported the operation's success, stating that the removed thigh contained nothing but those black filaments, which had even penetrated his muscles and nerves. Fortunately, the timely surgery saved his life. They reckoned that both the filaments and toxins inside posed a threat to his life. Besides, because we brought him in quickly, the herbs applied to his wound seemed to have had some inhibiting effect against the poison, allowing him to survive. The instructor told me to properly thank the herder later.
"When my squad leader was discharged from the hospital, it was me and the instructor who went to pick him up. From that day on, he became quiet and withdrawn, spending all his time in the dormitory, staring at us practicing outside. I heard the instructor even tried to keep him in the squad, offering him a logistics position so the army could take care of him for life. That plan got special approval from military command. Yet my squad leader, a stubborn man from northern Shaanxi, refused. He said he would rather beg on the streets than be a useless person living off the army. This situation led to many fiery arguments between him and our instructor, often ending in hurt feelings and tears. I always felt guilty for him. If I had only convinced him not to climb that mountain, maybe things would have turned out differently. But whenever I brought it up, he'd smile and say it was his fate. Two months later, he chose to retire from the army. The army posthumously awarded him a third-class merit. He had been the training standout, a combat exemplar, poised for promotion, with limitless potential. Now, due to this incident, his military career had come to an end.
"After retiring, my squad leader returned to his hometown. Because of the military commander's personal letter, the local government provided him substantial support, and good public positions were arranged for him to choose from. However, he stubbornly refused any kindness from others. Eventually, he opened a small stall selling lamb soup. While I was in northern Shaanxi for archaeological work, I saw him once. After drinking together, he said he didn't regret anything more in his life than going to Tibet and serving, even if it cost him a leg.
"After his discharge, news came from Beijing that the filaments found in the cocoon were of unknown origin and requested live samples for further study. That same day, our camp organized a massive assembly led by the instructor. Armed to the teeth, our entire platoon, with me leading, charged straight toward that mountain.
"When we reached the site, besides a field of cow bones and black filaments entangled around the bones, we found nothing else. But on our way down, a soldier discovered a massive black cocoon at the base of a cliff. This cocoon was as big as an artillery shell. The instructor tried poking it with a stick, but it was too high up to reach. He decided to take his .81 rifle and with a bang, shot the cocoon down. When the thick, black outer layer shattered, a huge moth emerged, stretching its wings as it took flight. To our amazement, its wings were larger than our military basins, and upon closer inspection, the patterns on its wings formed a perfect Eight Trigrams design!
"Everyone in our platoon stood dumbfounded. With its giant Eight Trigrams wings, the moth took to the skies. The instructor, quick to react, raised his weapon and shot it down again. The moth's body, along with the shattered cocoon, was sent to Beijing. Before my discharge, we finally received the report.
"It stated that the substances found in the cocoon matched those black filaments found inside my squad leader's body. The moth's Eight Trigrams pattern was deemed a natural coincidence, as butterfly wing patterns are naturally colorful and diverse. The report also indicated that the white worms we had encountered were likely the larvae of this moth. These larvae emerge from a cocoon, undergo molting, and eventually transform into this giant flying moth. According to their studies, this should be a brand new species, the first ever discovered. They suggested our camp provide more samples for research, as they suspected the larvae were carnivorous, capable of secreting black filaments, and that the goo on the filaments was highly toxic, potentially lethal. For convenience, they named this creature "Corpse Silkworm!"
"Corpse Silkworm?" Zha Wenbin asked.
Yichao looked nauseously at the writhing white mass and replied: "Yes, they said these creatures work on the same principle as silkworms. Regular silkworms eat mulberry leaves and produce silk that humans harvest; these creatures feed on corpses and spin black filaments to make their cocoons!"
Zha Wenbin recalled the piles of bones originally in the pool. Countless corpse silkworms had been feasting on those remains, and he felt sick at the thought. Had this place once been a living hell?
After hearing Yichao's story, Zhuo Xiong felt sympathy for the squad leader while also becoming increasingly worried. Since they knew how dangerous these worms were and retreating wasn't an option, what about moving forward? Was he destined to become food for these creatures? Imagining himself being devoured by worms, he turned aside to vomit again.
Yichao's account had poured cold water over everyone's heads. They'd expected to encounter some clever mechanism or vengeful ghost, but instead, they'd stirred up these bizarre corpse silkworms. Back in Tibet, a single worm had nearly killed the squad leader, and now there were thousands before them. With only five people in total, two of whom were unconscious, even if the three conscious men were extraordinarily skilled, they'd hardly be enough to satisfy these evil creatures' hunger. Zha Wenbin was pacing anxiously, though fortunately, the worms seemed uninterested in the living humans and were only focused on their pyramid-building. But nobody could guarantee they wouldn't get bitten if they tried walking through this mass of worms.
They couldn't go forward, couldn't go back—they were truly between a rock and a hard place. Zha Wenbin never imagined he'd meet his end in such a place. If he were to be eaten alive by these worms, he'd rather end things quickly with his own blade!
Yichao was out of ideas too. He'd witnessed firsthand how dangerous these worms were, and could only hope Zha Wenbin would think of something: "Wenbin, what should we do now?"
Seeing their expectant looks, Zha Wenbin knew he was the backbone of this team. If he lost heart, their only expectation would be death. So, unless absolutely necessary, he couldn't give up! He recalled the sequence of events and felt something was amiss. From entering the village to people disappearing, then finding this ancient well—it all seemed deliberately engineered, as if they'd walked into an elaborate trap.
But what was this person's purpose? What made their team worth exploiting? Four men, one woman, just looking for archaeological materials—nothing special about them.
Wait—a thought suddenly struck Zha Wenbin. When they first arrived at Qingcheng Mountain, there had been only three men and one woman. Zhuo Xiong had joined later as a guide.
That's it! How had he missed this detail? Who had directed them here? Who told them about the stone figures? Under what circumstances had Professor Wang and Leng Yiran disappeared? The Zhuo family!
Zha Wenbin's gaze turned cold as he abruptly turned to stare at Zhuo Xiong, who was sitting on the ground, blankly watching the sea of corpse silkworms. His intense stare went unnoticed.
Zha Wenbin's expression softened as he asked, "Brother Zhuo Xiong, what are you thinking about?"
Hearing Zha Wenbin's question, Zhuo Xiong turned: "Wenbin, I was wondering why these worms only appeared after that coffin was opened. If they'd shown up when we were still at the bottom of the pool, we probably wouldn't even have bones left."
This simple observation made Zha Wenbin doubt his suspicions. If the Zhuo family had orchestrated all this, Zhuo Xiong could have simply stayed above after Yichao descended, removed the rope, and been done with it. Why risk coming down? The theory didn't make sense—he must have been overthinking. Now he felt guilty. Zhuo Xiong had been the only true outsider here, and if he hadn't considered them friends, he wouldn't have gotten involved. So who had arranged this? Or perhaps he was wrong entirely, and this was all coincidence—or, put another way, fate. Zha Wenbin didn't dare pursue this line of thinking further. Fighting ghosts wasn't frightening; fighting humans was truly terrifying.
Zha Wenbin rubbed his face vigorously, composing his expression before saying, "Brother Zhuo Xiong, what were you saying? I didn't catch that."
Zhuo Xiong stood up, pointing at the worms: "I said if these worms really wanted to eat us, why didn't they appear earlier, or rush at us now? We'd have no escape either way."
Yichao added, "Look, those worms seem only interested in climbing to the ceiling. They don't care about us at all."
Following Yichao's pointing finger, they saw several worms approaching the ceiling, wriggling their bodies continuously. Then something remarkable happened: one worm spat something from its mouth that struck the ceiling, and more and more worms began doing the same. The worms below stopped climbing upward. Some at the top started rolling back down, and those below began to retreat. The worms that had been spitting were now hanging in mid-air! Looking closely, Zha Wenbin realized they were producing the black filaments Yichao had described.
One end of the thread was attached to the ceiling, while the worm held the other end firmly in its mouth, suspending itself in mid-air. A rough count revealed over a hundred worms hanging this way. Their black threads intertwined, forming a rope as thick as Yichao's climbing cord.
Before Zha Wenbin could contemplate their purpose, a new development unfolded.
When the worms below had retreated to a certain distance, their formation stabilized again. Then more worms began spitting threads, but this time not at the ceiling—they aimed at their companions already suspended in mid-air. The previously white bodies soon turned black, completely enveloped in silk.
Once the upper worms were fully wrapped, the army below retreated again. Then a second wave began spitting silk and suspended themselves, reaching a certain height before new worms started wrapping them up and hanging beneath them. This relay of silk-spitting reminded Zha Wenbin of a well-known story: the monkeys fishing for the moon. The monkeys had connected their bodies, hanging upside-down from a tree, allowing the last monkey to touch the moon's reflection in the water. These worms' method was strikingly similar to the monkey tale, just in the opposite direction.
The worms first used their bodies to help companions reach the ceiling, allowing those at the top to attach their black silk there. Then, using that one body as a connection point, they expanded downward. Given enough time, they would form a rope made of worm bodies stretching vertically from ceiling to floor!
Understanding their strategy, Zha Wenbin said, "Yichao, Zhuo Xiong, look! These worms are building a bridge—a bridge from ceiling to floor. At their current pace, it won't take long to complete. I just wonder why these corpse silkworms are doing this?"
Yichao coughed dryly: "Wenbin, you say they're building a bridge, and bridges are always built for someone to cross. Otherwise, why build it?"
Zha Wenbin smiled, patting Yichao's back: "Yichao, you always surprise me when my thoughts are muddled. Bridges are built for crossing, and if something needs to cross, even though we don't know what it is yet, let's wait and see. You two get ready—if anything emerges, listen for my signal to break that 'rope'!"
Zhuo Xiong lifted his hunting rifle, testing his aim: "No problem. At this distance, one shot will do it!"
Zha Wenbin gave Zhuo Xiong a thumbs-up, feeling guilty for suspecting him. With Zhuo Xiong's abilities, if he'd truly wanted to harm them, Zha Wenbin would likely be dead already.
They watched silently as the rope grew longer. Fifteen minutes later, it finally reached the ground. The worms below seemed to receive a command, retreating like the tide to clear a wide path in the middle. The retreating worms all adopted the same posture, heads raised as if welcoming an important guest. Seeing the clear path, Yichao whispered, "Wenbin, why don't we take advantage of this opening and dash through?"
Zha Wenbin narrowed his eyes, countering, "Are you confident you can carry someone through before the worms surround you?"
Yichao looked at the solid stone walls around them: "If we stay here, even if the worms don't eat us, we'll starve to death. It's only about a hundred meters to the other side of the pool. We're facing death either way, so why not try?"
Zha Wenbin turned to Zhuo Xiong: "Brother Zhuo Xiong, what do you think?"
"I agree with Yichao. Better to try than wait for death!"
These young men had real courage. If they weren't afraid, why should he be? Zha Wenbin bent down, asking softly, "Ready?"
Zhuo Xiong and Yichao immediately assumed sprinting positions. "Run!" Zha Wenbin suddenly shouted, then leaped off the rock into what had been the water pool. Behind him, Yichao and Zhuo Xiong, carrying the unconscious Professor Wang and Leng Yiran, jumped down as well.
The worms were clearly disturbed by these uninvited guests. With a rushing sound, they surged back toward the center like a tide. Despite their plump appearance, they moved with surprising speed.
From the moment he jumped, Zha Wenbin had no intention of looking back. His potential fully unleashed in this crisis, he moved like the wind, the first to cross the pool and reach the spot where Professor Wang had lain earlier. Yichao, carrying Leng Yiran, followed close behind. Looking back, they saw Zhuo Xiong lagging with the heaviest burden, Professor Wang. Several worms were closing in, with one curving its body in preparation to attack. Yichao raised his gun and fired—BANG! The shotgun blast sent worms flying, splattering goo all over Zhuo Xiong's clothes. Without hesitation, Yichao ejected the shell, reloaded, and with another shot, sent more worms flying. Channeling his guilt over his squad leader into hatred for these creatures, Yichao unleashed his fury. By the time the third bullet was chambered, Zhuo Xiong had been pulled to safety by Zha Wenbin, and the pursuing worms were right in front of Yichao's gun barrel. BANG! At point-blank range, the powerful hunting round turned the unfortunate worms into paste.
The remaining worms seemed to recognize the danger of these modern weapons. The pursuing swarm hesitated briefly before charging again toward them...
Yichao had his fourth bullet ready. They hadn't brought much ammunition for this trip—about twenty rounds each—but this was no time to conserve. Yichao and Zhuo Xiong opened fire simultaneously at the surging mass of worms. Wave after wave of worms were killed, but new groups kept coming, seemingly endless.
After firing another shot, Yichao felt his ammunition belt and gave a bitter smile: "I've only got two bullets left."
Yichao shot a group of corpse silkworms with his gun. "Ha! I've got three bullets left—one more than you!"
Zha Wenbin swung his Seven Stars Sword, slicing through one or two solitary worms that charged at him. He knew they couldn't hold off for long. Looking into the endless darkness behind them, he said, "Get ready to fall back!"
With only one bullet left, Yichao and Zhuo Xiong exchanged glances and began to slowly retreat. Suddenly, the nearby group of worms started to withdraw, including the solitary one just steps away from Zha Wenbin.
Zhuo Xiong laughed, "Look at that! The worms are scared of my gun!"
"Ha! They've backed off! Wenbin, we scared them away!"
Zha Wenbin, already sweating with anxiety, leaned on his sword to catch his breath. He found it strange that such aggressive creatures as the corpse silkworms would retreat.
Yichao suddenly shouted, "Look! What's that?"
They looked up to see the worms that had chased them now retreating to the side, raising their heads, just as they had before. A gigantic corpse silkworm was climbing up the thread spun by the smaller ones, heading toward the cliff's edge!
This particular silkworm was different from the others; while the others were white, this one was not only several times larger but also yellow with patterns on its back. Although it had pincers similar to the other corpse silkworms, they resembled large garden shears when opened wide. The entire creature looked like a massive python—easily two meters long and about twenty centimeters in diameter.
Zha Wenbin murmured, "That must be the corpse silkworm king!"
Yichao raised his gun to shoot, but Zha Wenbin grabbed his arm: "Don't move; let's see what it does!"
The yellow corpse silkworm crawled swiftly along the thread to the top of the cliff, moving its pincers excitedly as it peeked around. Moments later, it slipped inside and vanished from sight, while the other worms remained still in position, seemingly waiting for something.
Zha Wenbin pondered how such a large formation couldn't just be for one worm. Since they were here, he needed to figure out what was going on. Even if he had to retreat, he felt confident.
They could clearly hear a rustling sound, followed by something massive dropping from the cliff. With a roar, a huge bronze coffin crashed to the ground, smashing several rocks below!
Yichao shouted, "Is that a coffin?!"
Zha Wenbin quickly covered his mouth, hissing, "Don't panic! It seems there's another coffin up there!"
Yichao grumbled in disappointment, "These grave robbers are really destructive! Wenbin, how come we didn't notice that coffin above?"
"It fits the Daoist principle of 'Eight Trigrams produce Nine Palaces.' I should have anticipated there would be a tenth coffin here. If I'm not mistaken, this water pool and everything else are part of a bigger picture—everything returns to the Ultimate Circuit."
Zhuo Xiong was puzzled; why had the worms backed off only to reveal the corpse silkworm king? His instinctive response echoed that of Yichao's: shoot the big worm and run. "Wenbin, what do you mean?"
Zha Wenbin explained, "The beginning of everything is also its end. If we can bypass the endpoint, we will return to the start. Common folks reach the end and find no way forward, only death awaits them. But if we can bypass that point, everything returns to the beginning, which is rebirth! This is what Daoism calls the Ultimate Circuit. Whoever set this trap has mastered the Dao to an extraordinary degree. If this is true, what's in the tenth coffin is likely a person."
Yichao asked, "A person? Are you saying all this commotion is just to bury someone?"
"Exactly. Ancient people believed that a person could be reborn. They thought if you could cross the threshold of death, everything would return to the beginning—rebirth. Let's wait and see what those worms are up to."
After a breath's time, the corpse silkworm king crawled back down the silk thread, its abdomen noticeably swollen compared to before, moving much slower than it had initially. Once it reached the ground, it looked at Zha Wenbin as if pondering something. Both Zhuo Xiong and Yichao had their rifles trained on it, ready to pull the trigger at the slightest movement. But after a moment of observation, the silkworm king turned its pincers toward a nearby smaller worm then burrowed into the pile of rocks, prompting the surrounding worms to follow suit until they all vanished without a trace. The once-coiling worms seemed to collapse back into a loose mass, leaving only tangled black silk behind. The entire dark river returned to its eerie stillness.
Once they confirmed the worms had retreated, Zhuo Xiong and Yichao finally lowered their weapons. Zha Wenbin urged, "Let's check it out!" He moved toward the center, with the other two following, as they all curiously wondered what lay inside the tenth coffin. What exactly had the silkworm just done?
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Chinese Words/Phrases in Chapter 16 The Corpse Silkworms
Daoist Practitioners and Sects
- "Celestial Master" (天师) - A title for high-ranking Daoist priests who could commune with deities and perform exorcisms
Divination Tools and Objects
- "Seven Stars Sword" (七星剑) - A ritual sword used by Daoist practitioners for ceremonies and protection against evil spirits
Ritual Practices and Techniques
- "Sky burial" (天葬) - Tibetan funeral practice where a body is left exposed to be consumed by vultures
Cultural and Historical References
- "I Ching" (易经) - Ancient Chinese divination text also known as the Book of Changes
- "Eight Trigrams" (八卦) - Eight symbols used in Daoist cosmology representing fundamental principles of reality
- "Nine Palaces" (九宫) - A cosmological arrangement of nine sectors used in Feng Shui and Daoist practices
- "Ultimate Circuit" (太极) - The source of all creation in Daoist cosmology, representing the circular nature of life and death
- "Monkeys fishing for the moon" (猴子捞月) - A traditional Chinese fable about monkeys trying to retrieve the moon's reflection from water
Locations
- "Qingcheng Mountain" (青城山) - A famous mountain in Sichuan province, known as one of the birthplaces of Daoism
- "Tibet" (西藏) - Autonomous region in southwestern China
- "Lhasa" (拉萨) - Capital city of Tibet
- "Northern Shaanxi" (陕北) - Region in northern Shaanxi province
Character Names and Titles
- "Zha Wenbin" (查文斌) - Main character with knowledge of Daoist practices
- "Yichao" (易超) - Character, former reconnaissance soldier
- "Zhuo Xiong" (卓雄) - Character, nicknamed "Blind One"
- "Professor Wang" (王教授) - Academic character
- "Leng Yiran" (冷一然) - Female character, referred to as "Miss Leng"
- "Corpse Silkworm" (尸蚕) - Mythical creature in the story that feeds on corpses and produces black silk
Mythical Creatures
- "Corpse Silkworm King" (尸蚕王) - Leader of the corpse silkworms, larger and yellow in color