Professor Chen’s voice became sharp and piercing, echoing eerily in the already cramped tomb. The three of us were filled with confusion. If the professor had gone mad, that was one thing, but why had his voice suddenly changed?
I shook Professor Chen’s shoulders repeatedly, trying to bring him back to his senses. To my surprise, his shouting grew louder as he flailed his arms, yelling, “Don’t go out! Don’t go out!” He pulled at my arm with all his might.
Worried that Professor Chen might do something dangerous in his frantic state, I called Fatty over to help me pin him down to the ground.
Shirley Yang rushed over, fearing we might hurt the professor. But when Professor Chen saw her approach, he suddenly reached out, snatched the ancient sheepskin book from her hands, tore off the last page, and bit down on it.
The sheepskin, thousands of years old, was too tough to bite through. Yet, Professor Chen ignored this and continued to shove the sheepskin into his mouth, chewing wildly.
After being triggered, he seemed both foolish and frantic. How could he suddenly become so hysterical? A person whose nerves had snapped couldn’t be under the illusion of the Corpse Flower anymore. Was he possessed by an evil spirit? Did he not want us to escape?
Fatty managed to pull the ancient sheepskin from the professor’s mouth. While the sheepskin was unharmed, Professor Chen’s mouth was filled with blood. To be safe, we had no choice but to tie him up temporarily.
I was most concerned about whether the last page of the sheepskin book was damaged. If there was a way to escape, it should be on that last page. If Professor Chen had chewed it up, we would be in trouble.
The last page of the sheepskin was covered in Professor Chen’s saliva and blood, but there were no patterns or symbols—just a blank space.
I said to Shirley Yang, “Oh no, the prophet’s prediction has been licked away by Old Chen.”
Shirley Yang replied, “Don’t worry. The last page of the prophet’s sheepskin book was blank to begin with.”
I regretted my earlier panic. I didn’t know what was wrong today; everything seemed off, making me restless. I couldn’t calm down, feeling that something was wrong in this tomb.
However, the prophet’s predictions were incredibly accurate. He must have foreseen that a mad Professor Chen would act this way, which is why the last page was blank. It seemed that everything we did in this stone chamber was already destined to happen. There was no point in overthinking it; I decided to just go with the flow.
Fatty and I sat down with Professor Chen wedged between us. We urged Shirley Yang to continue with her story. Professor Chen struggled but was unable to move, and he stopped shouting.
Shirley Yang continued to explain the prophecy in the sheepskin book: “The prophet predicted that eight hundred years after his death, his tribe had already migrated to the distant East to escape disaster. Meanwhile, Mount Zagalama welcomed a new tribe from the desert in the West. They discovered the Ghost Caves, and the tribe’s shaman declared it to be the dwelling place of evil spirits. This tribe became the predecessor of the Kingdom of Jingjue. The Queen of Jingjue had eyes that could see into the underworld, and she mastered a ritual using jade eyes to summon the black snake evil spirits, conquering over a dozen neighboring countries. Their atrocities angered the true god, who handed the mountain and the surrounding area over to demons. The desert swallowed their cities, and all the people and livestock of that nation, along with the black snake spirits in the Ghost Caves, were buried deep underground.”
Fatty grew impatient and could no longer hold back, urging Shirley Yang to hurry up with the rest of the story. It would be better to leave this oppressive tomb as soon as possible.
Shirley Yang said, “The last part is a revelation for the four of us who entered the prophet’s tomb… It foretells that four survivors will enter the tomb due to a landslide, and one of them is a descendant of the Holy Ancestor tribe…”
I asked in surprise, “A descendant? Does that mean someone with blood ties to that ancient tribe? Since it doesn’t specify who, I think your chances are the highest. Otherwise, why haven’t Fatty and I dreamed of the Ghost Caves? Plus, you might have inherited some of your tribe’s prophetic abilities, allowing you to foresee the place you are destined to go.”
Fatty agreed, saying, “Exactly! It must be Miss Yang. Old Hu, we never noticed before, but her nose is a bit hooked, and her eyes have a slight bluish tint. We thought it was just because she spent too much time in America, but now it seems she has inherited her ancestors’ bloodline. Deep down, she isn’t even Chinese.”
I worried that Fatty’s bluntness might upset Shirley Yang, so I quickly interjected, “That’s quite a remarkable background, but why do you still have the surname Yang?”
Shirley Yang seemed unable to accept this revelation and shook her head. “I don’t know. My family has always been Chinese. Maybe it’s from my mother’s side. My grandfather had a very prominent hooked nose… Regardless of who the descendant mentioned in the prophet’s revelations is, it doesn’t matter now. The urgent thing is that we must leave here quickly. The later part of the prophecy indicates that the Holy Ancestor will point out an escape route for the descendants, but we must not let the sheepskin book fall to the ground. If it does, a sandstorm will begin, and the yellow sand will once again swallow the ancient city of Jingjue and Mount Zagalama. This time, the mountain will be buried beneath the sea of sand until the end of time.”
I quickly reminded Shirley Yang, “Then we must not let the sheepskin book touch the ground! Otherwise, a sandstorm will kick up before we can escape, and we’ll be buried along with the mountain. What else is in the prophecy?”
Shirley Yang replied, “That’s the last part; there’s nothing more. The Holy Ancestor will guide us to an escape route. Check the remains of the Holy Ancestor for any clues.” With that, she opened her backpack to put the sheepskin book inside, just in case.
At that moment, Professor Chen, who had been wedged between Fatty and me, suddenly burst forth with strange strength, breaking free and lunging toward Shirley Yang. He screamed, “You’ll never escape!”
We were all stunned by Professor Chen’s shout, not just because of its piercing quality, but because it eerily resembled the voice of the recently deceased Ye Yixin.
In the brief moment we were caught off guard, Professor Chen knocked the sheepskin book from Shirley Yang’s hands…
With the situation unfolding so suddenly, I had to act quickly. I kicked the sheepskin book, sending it flying like a ball.
The book flew directly toward Fatty, who couldn’t afford to hesitate. However, the book was too low, and he didn’t have time to bend down to catch it, so he kicked it away, determined not to let it hit the ground.
The tomb was already cramped and low, and our frantic actions felt like a circus act. Everyone’s hearts raced, and time seemed to freeze for those few seconds, likely due to the adrenaline.
Fatty’s kick sent the sheepskin book soaring upward, heading straight for Shirley Yang’s face. Just as she reached out to catch it, Professor Chen suddenly lunged forward and grabbed the book, intending to drop it to the ground again.
At that moment, a large figure lunged forward, tackling Professor Chen to the ground.
I quickly rushed over and snatched the “time bomb” from Professor Chen’s hands. The sheepskin book, which could determine everyone’s fate, was finally safe from hitting the ground.
Shirley Yang pushed Fatty aside, saying, “The professor is so old! Are you trying to crush him? If anything happens to him, I’ll make you pay for it.” She then helped Professor Chen, who was struggling under Fatty’s weight, to regain his composure. Fatty’s bulk had nearly cost the old man his life.
I carefully placed the sheepskin book into the portable bag at my waist and then said to Shirley Yang and Fatty, “Have you noticed how strange Professor Chen is? When he speaks, he sounds a bit like Ye Yixin.”
Fatty replied, “Yeah, could it be that the girl’s spirit is haunting him? She died unjustly and might be afraid that if we leave, no one will keep her company. It’s kind of sad when you think about it.”
I retorted, “Screw you! The living and the dead are on different paths. She was our companion in life, but now that she’s dead, she wants to drag us down with her? That’s too selfish, and it’s not worthy of sympathy. We can’t afford to be soft-hearted right now.”
Shirley Yang interjected, “Stop talking nonsense! There are no ghosts in this world. The professor must have been severely affected by something, causing him to act strangely. If there were ghosts, why wouldn’t they come after the three of us? Why target Professor Chen?”
I said, “You don’t understand. The situation is urgent, and we can’t discuss it in detail. I have a black donkey hoof, and Fatty has one too. You have an authentic Mojin talisman around your neck, but Professor Chen has none of these. Plus, he’s not in his right mind, and his inner fire is weak, making him vulnerable to possession. If you don’t believe me, let’s see what happens if I put this black donkey hoof in his mouth. We’ll find out if he’s being haunted.”
Shirley Yang refused, saying, “Is that something a person should eat? If you want to eat a black donkey hoof, go ahead.”
I thought to myself that we couldn’t rely on getting paid anymore; the key was to survive. Any oversight could be a hidden danger, and I had to test Professor Chen with the black donkey hoof. His earlier behavior was far from just a simple madness.
Ignoring Shirley Yang’s protests, I forced the black donkey hoof into Professor Chen’s mouth. At that moment, he no longer wore the fierce expression from before; he had returned to a dazed state. When the hoof was brought to his lips, he opened his mouth and began to bite down, laughing foolishly as he chewed.
Shirley Yang shouted angrily, “Are you trying to kill the professor? Take that hoof out of his mouth!” I quickly removed the hoof, realizing I might have overreacted.
After the four of us finally calmed down from the earlier chaos, we recalled the prophet’s revelation about being shown an escape route. We gathered around the remains of the prophet, carefully examining them, fearing we might miss even the slightest clue.