The past few days have been sweltering, with sweat pouring down even when sitting still. Finally, the heavens unleashed a heavy rain that seemed to steam up the city, bringing some much-needed relief from the heat.
After the rain, the Panjiayuan Antique Market was bustling with activity. Amateur collectors and antique fans, who had been cooped up at home for days, rushed in to hunt for treasures.
Big Gold Tooth was busy negotiating with a customer, while Fatty was trying to sell a beautifully embroidered shoe to a foreign couple with big noses and blue eyes. Fatty said to them, “What do you think? Smell this shoe; it has the same scent as your American Marilyn Monroe. This is the fragrant shoe worn by a famous courtesan from our Ming Dynasty. You know what I mean, right?”
The foreign couple, who knew a bit of Chinese, seemed quite interested in the delicate shoe. Seizing the opportunity, Fatty boldly asked for 20,000 yuan, which startled the couple and made them turn to leave. Foreigners who frequently visit China are usually good at bargaining, but Fatty realized this couple was new to the country. He quickly stopped them, claiming that to promote cultural exchange and in the spirit of peaceful coexistence, he could offer them a discount.
I sat nearby, smoking, completely uninterested in the lively scene at the antique market. After returning from Shaanxi, I had gone to the hospital for a check-up, but neither I nor Fatty had any unusual marks on our backs, and no illness was found.
I didn’t feel anything particularly wrong either. Business had been booming lately; we sold the fragrant jade stone we brought back from Shaanxi for a price that felt like a dream. We also acquired several genuine burial objects, with profits multiplying with each sale. Yet, every time I thought of Professor Sun’s words, I felt a heavy weight on my back, making it hard to breathe. This constant worry drained my enthusiasm for everything.
That insufferable, hypocritical Professor Sun refused to tell me the meaning of the symbol, and he was the only one who understood the ancient encrypted writing. I couldn’t force him to reveal it.
Although the batch of dragon bones unearthed from Gulan was damaged, Professor Sun must have kept some records. I needed to find a way to go back to Shaanxi and ask him to show me. As long as I could confirm that the mark on my back had nothing to do with the Ghost Cave of Jingjue, I could relax. However, every time I mentioned the Ghost Cave, Professor Sun would go wild, making me hesitant to bring it up again.
The more he concealed, the more I felt it was connected to the Ghost Cave. Since he wouldn’t give me a straight answer, I had to come up with a plan. I couldn’t go on living with this eye-like red mark on my back forever.
Summer is a season that makes you drowsy. I was sitting on a cool chair, keeping an eye on my things to prevent any thieves from making off with them, but my mind wandered, and I unknowingly fell asleep.
I had a series of strange dreams. At first, I dreamed of marrying a mute girl who communicated through gestures, asking me to take her to the movies. Somehow, we ended up in a cinema without buying tickets. The movie was chaotic, with no clear beginning or end, just explosions and landslides. As we watched, my mute wife and I realized the cinema had transformed into a cave. In the dim light, there seemed to be a bottomless abyss. Alarmed, I told her, “This place is a bottomless ghost cave in the desert; we need to get out of here!” But my mute wife remained unfazed and suddenly pushed me into the abyss. I fell deep into the cave, where a giant eye was staring at me…
Suddenly, I felt a cool sensation on my nose, as if someone was pinching it. I woke up to see a familiar figure standing in front of me. The person was pinching my nose with her fingers. As I opened my eyes, I met her gaze and, still half-dreaming of that terrifying giant eye, I was startled and nearly fell off the cool chair.
As I focused, I realized it was Shirley Yang standing there. Fatty and Big Gold Tooth were nearby, laughing so hard they could barely stand up. Fatty chuckled, “Old Hu, were you daydreaming? You were drooling all over the place! Must have been dreaming about marrying someone!”
Big Gold Tooth added, “Hey, Hu, you’re awake! Miss Yang just got back from America and said she urgently needs to see you.”
Shirley handed me a handkerchief. “It’s only been a few days, and you’ve already picked up a new habit? You’re drooling like a river; wipe it off.”
I didn’t take the handkerchief, instead wiping my mouth with my sleeve. I stretched and rubbed my eyes, finally shaking off the drowsiness. I looked at Shirley and said, “Your eyes… oh, right!” Suddenly, I remembered the red mark on my back that looked like an eye. I quickly told Shirley, “I’ve been meaning to find you. There’s something important I need to discuss.”
Shirley replied, “I have something important too. It’s too noisy here; let’s find a quieter place to talk.”
I quickly got up from the chair, leaving Fatty and Big Gold Tooth to handle the business, and walked with Shirley to a nearby park called Longtan Park.
At that time, Longtan Park hadn’t been renovated yet; it was small and even on holidays, there weren’t many visitors. Shirley pointed to a quiet stone bench by the lake and said, “This is a nice spot; let’s sit here and talk.”
I joked, “This is where couples go for a stroll. If you’re not worried about appearances, I don’t mind. This little place is perfect for a date.”
Shirley, who was born and raised in America but had lived in a Chinese community for a long time, didn’t quite understand my joke and asked, “What? Are you saying only couples are allowed to sit by the lake?”
I thought about how different our cultural backgrounds were and realized explaining it would be complicated. So, I said, “Anyone can sit on the benches in this park. Let’s not worry about that.” With that, I sat down.
I asked Shirley, “How’s Professor Chen doing?”
Shirley sat beside me and sighed. “The professor is still receiving treatment in America. He was too traumatized, and there hasn’t been much progress in his condition.”
Hearing that Professor Chen’s health hadn’t improved made me feel sad. After chatting with Shirley for a bit, we got to the main topic, which, as I expected, wasn’t about me owing money. It was about the strange eye-shaped red mark that had suddenly appeared on my back.
Not only Fatty and I, but Shirley and Professor Chen also had this peculiar mark. Out of the five of us who survived that trip to Xinjiang, besides the four of us, there was also a guide, the old fox from the desert, An Liman. Did he also have this red mark?
Shirley Yang said, “Old An Liman probably doesn’t have this mark because he hasn’t seen the Ghost Cave. I think this symbol must be connected to the eye of the Ghost Cave People in some way.”
There are too many secrets surrounding that mysterious tribe, and the unknown secrets, including the ghost cave that leads to who knows where, have been buried forever beneath the yellow sands, never to be seen again.
I shared with Shirley some of the things I learned from Professor Sun in Gulan, Shaanxi. Maybe she could make some judgment about whether this symbol was indeed a curse brought upon us by the Ghost Cave.
After listening, Shirley said, “Professor Sun… is his name Sun Yaozu? He’s quite renowned in the Western archaeological community, one of the few experts in deciphering ancient scripts. He specializes in interpreting ancient symbols, codes, and encrypted graphic information. I’ve read his books and know he’s friends with Professor Chen, but I’ve never had the chance to meet him. In 1981, a batch of artifacts was unearthed from the tomb of Pharaoh Karotep in Egypt, including a scepter carved with many hieroglyphs. Many experts couldn’t decipher the symbols. A French expert who knew Sun Yaozu wrote to him for help and received valuable advice, ultimately determining that the scepter was the legendary Yellow Springs Scepter inscribed with underworld texts. This discovery shocked the world, and from then on, Professor Sun became famous everywhere. If he says this symbol isn’t an eye but rather a symbolic representation, I believe that must be very significant.”
I couldn’t help but be amazed. I hadn’t expected that the eccentric Professor Sun, with his farmer-like appearance, was such a distinguished figure. I asked Shirley, “Whether it’s a symbol or a script, the most important thing is whether it’s good or bad. Does it have any connection to that cursed relic of the ancient Jingjue Kingdom?”
Shirley replied, “I’ve found some clues about this in the U.S. Do you remember the prophecy in Mount Zagalama? It mentioned that one of the four survivors is a descendant of the prophet tribe, and that person is indeed me. My grandfather passed away when I was seventeen, and it was very sudden; he left no words behind. On this trip back to the U.S., I went through some of his belongings and found a notebook that contained many astonishing clues, completely proving the authenticity of the prophecy.”
It seemed that things were heading in the direction I feared the most. Just as I had dreaded, that nightmare-like ghost cave was sticking to me like a stubborn plaster. Were we cursed by the ancient Jingjue Kingdom? Hadn’t that ancient city, along with the entire Mount Zagalama, been permanently buried beneath the sands?
Shirley said, “It’s not a curse, but it’s even more troublesome. Let me tell you everything I know about Zagalama from the beginning.”