Chapter 5: The Everlasting Lamp

This place lies in a remote corner, so the farmhouse inn here seldom receives many guests. The business is usually rather quiet. Today, with so many people suddenly arriving in the small courtyard, the owner was visibly bewildered for a moment.

He was a bald, stout, middle-aged man with an honest face. He greeted us warmly and invited us to sit by one of the stone tables set in the yard. In these secluded villages, small family businesses can rarely afford waitstaff, so such establishments are typically run by husband and wife. The owner took on the role of chef, managing everything in the kitchen, while his wife was responsible for collecting payments, serving tea, and all manner of chores.

I asked Wang Yueban to order the dishes. He took the menu without any hesitation and chose the house specialty grilled fish, a spicy stir-fried chicken, and two vegetable dishes. Bottles of beer were chilling in well water, ready to be taken whenever one wished.

Before long, the grilled fish arrived first. I’ve never been much of a connoisseur when it comes to fish—every time I eat it, the fish might recognize me, but I wouldn’t recognize the fish. This grilled fish was impressively large. Its surface was seared to a crisp golden brown; when I used my chopsticks to break the skin, the tender white flesh inside was revealed. Dipping the crispy exterior and succulent interior into the special house sauce was truly delicious!

We gathered around the stone table, and like a wind sweeping away clouds, finished every morsel in less than half an hour. Xueya instructed her subordinates to set up several large tents by the riverbank. After the satisfying meal, everyone piled into the tents. Soon, snores could be heard drifting out into the night.

The river roared and surged; the sound of rushing water filled the air. I lay in my tent, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Eventually, I gave up, stepped outside, and sat upon a large rock by the riverbank, gazing up at the starry sky.

Nourished by the river, the flowers, grass, and trees at the water’s edge grew wild and luxuriant. A slender new moon, shaped like a sickle, hung above the horizon.

As night descended, a thin mist rose over the river. In the dim twilight, the vegetation along the bank appeared as a dark, shapeless mass—strange, menacing, like the contorted forms of wild beasts. The river, twisting like a giant serpent, reflected the Big Dipper precisely at the serpent’s head, creating a bizarre and ominous image: the serpent devouring the Dipper.

According to the principles of geomancy, when the serpent swallows the Dipper, calamity looms. If not a great misfortune, then surely disaster will strike.

“What are you looking at, Jiang Yuan?” Just as I was lost in contemplation before the strange scene, Xueya’s voice sounded behind me.

I turned to see her standing quietly at my back, though I had no idea when she had arrived. She wore a light green windbreaker over a pair of fitted jeans, her feet clad in tall hiking boots. Her lustrous black hair fell freely down her shoulders.

It is said that beauties are best admired in soft light; the longer you look, the more entrancing they become. Bathed in the faint glow of the moon, Xueya seemed like the goddess Chang’e descending from her palace in the sky—ethereal and otherworldly, her presence extraordinary.

“We’re in for more trouble than luck on this venture,” I said heavily, watching as Xueya came to sit beside me.

In contrast to my solemn mood, Xueya appeared at ease. “I’ve faced countless dangers since I was a child,” she replied, “but every time, I’ve turned misfortune into blessing. Jiang Yuan, trust me—we’ll be fine.”

Before she finished speaking, a series of eerie, unearthly sounds rose from the middle of the river: a chorus of howls, moans, and roars.

Instinctively, I raised my high-powered flashlight and shone it toward the center of the water. The surface, which had been relatively calm, suddenly boiled with turbulence, as if the river itself was seething. Gradually, a massive whirlpool formed at the heart of the current.

The night was dark, the moonlight faint and hazy. From my vantage point, the distance was too great; even the strong beam of my flashlight grew weak and diffuse as it reached the middle of the river. In the uncertain glow, I seemed to glimpse a gigantic, blood-red python writhing and coiling in the churning waters.

As Xueya and I stared helplessly at the monstrous serpent twisting in the river, a tremendous wave surged up, sweeping over us like autumn wind scattering fallen leaves, and in an instant, we were both swallowed by the river.

The water was icy cold, enveloping my entire body and sending violent shivers through me. I learned to swim when I was about six, and I always considered myself a strong swimmer. Kicking furiously and striking out with my arms, I tried to rise, but to my shock, a powerful current from below pulled me downward with irresistible force.

The suction only grew stronger. No matter how I struggled, I could not break free; my body was dragged swiftly down toward the riverbed.

In a panic, I felt a hand clutch my arm. My mouth opened in desperation, and muddy river water surged in, filling my lungs. Gasping and choking, I blacked out, my body ceasing to struggle—drifting like a blade of waterweed, swept along by the current.

I have no idea how much time passed before I regained consciousness. When I awoke, I found myself lying in a stone cavern.

It was, more accurately, a massive limestone cave. Not far away, the rock walls were pocked with countless natural holes. What astonished me was that in each of these holes burned an ever-burning lamp.

Such lamps are often found in ancient tombs. According to the old masters, these everlasting lamps can burn for a thousand years without going out because their oil is rendered from human fat. Thus, in tomb lore, these lamps are known as corpse-oil lamps.

The light they emit is peculiar—not yellow, nor white, but a pale green. In the making of corpse-oil lamps, materials like rosemary are sometimes added according to need. When these lamps burn, they release a strange scent that can induce hallucinations, unconsciousness, or even death, all without the victim’s awareness.

What is this place? Why are there so many ever-burning lamps? Could this be an ancient tomb? I forced myself to remain calm, struggling to recall the events that led me here. I distinctly remembered being swept into the river by a great wave, sinking ever deeper…

Scenes from before replayed in my mind like a film, ending with the moment I lost consciousness.

As my gaze lingered on the corpse-oil lamps, lost in thought, a sudden chill swept over me. I clearly felt something land on my shoulder from behind…