Chapter 17: The Return of Mercury

Quicksilver streamed down the walls with a loud rush, hemming us in like trapped beasts, completely encircled by the poisonous tide.

“The flow of the mercury is all by design. We can’t get out now!” Ma Xu watched helplessly as the mercury crept closer and closer to him, panic overtaking him as he realized there was nothing he could do.

I slapped Ma Xu on the shoulder, my voice calm and steady.

“Don’t panic, Ma Xu. You’re good with mechanisms—look for a switch or a trigger in here. Maybe you can stop the mercury from flowing. Then we’ll figure out a way to open the tomb gate and get out. The fumes are toxic; if we stay too long, we’ll pass out and die!” I ran through my plan in my mind and shared it with him immediately—right now, it was our only hope.

Key moments never fazed Ma Xu; he nodded quickly and sprang into action.

For now, the mercury hadn’t flooded too high. Ma Xu took long strides toward the stone sarcophagus, convinced that the mechanism must be concealed there.

I stood my ground, motionless, watching as Ma Xu carefully picked his way across the mercury. Step by cautious step, he finally reached the sarcophagus. He took out his magnifying glass and began to examine the stone coffin in detail.

“How’s it going, Ma Xu? Any luck?” Zhao Zhiqiang was already gagging on the harsh reek of mercury hanging in the air. The fumes made him nauseous, his face twisted with discomfort.

Ma Xu covered his mouth and nose with his collar and shouted back, “Damn it, quit rushing me! It’s not that easy—can’t you see I’m searching as fast as I can?”

“Just hurry up. I can’t take much more.” Zhao Zhiqiang was already injured, and now, overwhelmed by the mercury fumes, he was clearly reaching his limit.

Seeing how pale Zhao Zhiqiang looked, I quickly took a water bottle from my backpack, soaked a handkerchief, and handed it to him to cover his mouth and nose. His color looked a little better at once.

“Thank you, thank you, brother,” Zhao Zhiqiang gasped, grateful.

“Save your strength. Don’t waste your breath. Let’s wait for Ma Xu to find the mechanism,” I replied coldly, then dampened my own collar and covered my face as well. The fumes were getting to me too—I felt my head growing heavier by the minute.

I didn’t know how much time passed. The mercury had now fully surrounded us, filling the air with its toxic stench. My stomach churned, my vision blurred, splitting into double images.

I tried to move, but my body felt like a kite with its string cut, drifting wherever gravity pulled me.

“This is bad. I’m poisoned,” I realized. I’d taken plenty of antidote pills before, but I’d used them all up against the poisonous insects earlier. Now the antidote had lost its effect. It seemed our chances were grim.

At that moment, I heard a sudden thud behind me. Frowning, I tried to turn around. When I finally managed to look back, I saw Zhao Zhiqiang collapsed on the ground, eyes closed—he’d already lost consciousness.

“Zhao—Zhao Zhiqiang…” I reached out a hand to help him, but my vision swam, and I nearly fell myself. I forced myself to stay upright, shaking my head to stay awake.

Just then, Ma Xu shouted from behind, “I found it! I found it!”

His shout snapped me out of my stupor. I grabbed Zhao Zhiang, rejoined Black Jacket, and together we staggered toward Ma Xu, dodging pools of mercury as we went. By the time we reached him, I felt half-dead.

Ma Xu, with all his strength, pushed hard against the stone sarcophagus. Miraculously, the mercury stopped flowing!

“I did it! I really did it!” Ma Xu shouted, almost delirious with excitement. The effort and the fumes nearly overwhelmed him too, but he managed to keep his footing.

I grinned foolishly; maybe this was the first true smile I’d shown since we entered the tomb. Ma Xu had just saved all four of us.

“Ma Xu, you’re a real hero. I knew you had it in you!” Black Jacket, clearly impressed, couldn’t hold back his praise. It was well deserved—Ma Xu had kept his cool and found the mechanism just in time.

But as we were catching our breath, the mercury suddenly started moving again!

“Shit, it’s moving!” Ma Xu cried, pointing at the mercury swirling at our feet.

Black Jacket and I looked down. Sure enough, the mercury was flowing again. Had the mechanism failed? Or had Ma Xu triggered the wrong switch? I couldn’t make sense of it.

But soon I noticed something strange—the mercury was flowing in the opposite direction.

In no time, it retraced its path and vanished without a trace.

“What the hell just happened?” Ma Xu was dumbfounded, searching for any sign of mercury, but it was as though it had never been there at all. For a moment, I wondered if we’d hallucinated the whole ordeal. But the pounding in my head insisted otherwise—the mercury had truly receded.

After a long silence, my gaze fell on the stone sarcophagus. I reached out, running my hand across its surface, and said gravely, “It seems the tomb’s master left us a way out after all.”

“So, we don’t have to retreat? We can keep searching for treasure?” Ma Xu’s eyes lit up, his tone sly and hopeful.

I nodded, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were far from simple. My expression remained grave.

“Listen, if you so much as touch anything you shouldn’t, I’ll leave you here to keep the dead company,” Black Jacket warned Ma Xu harshly, clearly remembering the last disaster. Ma Xu realized how close we’d come to disaster and nodded sheepishly.

“Brother Pang, don’t worry. If I mess things up again, may I never have a son, or better yet—may I never find a wife as long as I live. How’s that for a curse?” he swore.

Black Jacket ignored his bluster and turned his attention back to the sarcophagus.

The whole coffin was a deep blue-green, perfectly square, its sides carved with dragons and phoenixes. Curious, Black Jacket leaned closer, studying the images. They depicted a vivid scene of farmers tilling the land, women cooking by the rice paddies, even wisps of smoke curling from their stoves.

“What a lifelike tableau of rural life,” Black Jacket murmured, running his hand over the detailed carving. The craftsmanship was exquisite, the relief carving masterful and ingenious.

I circled around to the other side, where another scene was depicted—a bustling street market, rendered with equal artistry. The town was alive with pavilions and towers, full of energy and prosperity.

Black Jacket studied the carvings for a long time, then straightened with a confident air. “I think we can be pretty sure about the tomb owner’s identity now. This is clearly a Tang dynasty tomb. Tch, I’d hoped it might be even older.”

“A Tang tomb’s not bad. With the right treasure, it’ll be worth it,” Ma Xu mused, stroking his chin.

Zhao Zhiqiang, still recovering, listened in silence. They were all convinced this was a Tang tomb—everyone except me.

Noticing my silence, Black Jacket sensed something was off and turned to me for my opinion.

“Brother, you haven’t said a word. What do you think of this tomb?” Black Jacket respected my judgment; he knew full well that the knowledge of an official family carried weight, and that my word was often law.

I walked around the burial chamber, scrutinizing every detail. No matter how I looked at it, something felt wrong. If it really was a Tang tomb, why did everything exude the air of the Western Han?