The Dragon Ridge Tombs

by Tianxia Bachang

  But speculating about that wouldn’t help us get out. I tied a rope around my waist and started crawling down the left-hand branch, telling the other two that if I ran into trouble, I’d whistle and they should pull me back right away.

  Gold Tooth plucked a golden Buddha charm from around his neck and handed it to me. “Tianyi, put this on,” he said. “It’s been blessed, and if there’s anything nasty in there, it will keep you safe.”

  “It’s too precious—you should keep it for your own protection,” I told him. “This place seems dangerous, but I don’t think it’s spirits, just some sort of man-made trap we haven’t seen before. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

  Gold Tooth grinned, reaching into his pocket to pull out twenty or so other charms, some Buddhist, some Taoist, made of gold, ivory, or jade, all different sizes. “I’ve got a whole arsenal here, and they’ve all been blessed by monks. I’m not scared of anything.”

  Now I realized why he’d been so insistent on following us—he had a hoard of charms to keep him safe. “You’re right,” I said, “reverse dippers aren’t afraid of ghosts. What I’m worried about is that this situation is like nothing I’ve seen before. I want to make sure it’s all right before we continue.”

  I took the gold Buddha and hung it around my neck. I’d handled enough antiques by this point to know this was definitely the real thing.

  The left-hand branch had a strong breeze coming through it, so I knew it must open out somewhere. At least I didn’t need to worry about breathing. Still, I pulled on my gas mask as a precaution, then went in with my flashlight trained on the path ahead. This tunnel was much narrower, probably because it had been made in a hurry. It felt a bit like being buried alive, and I was glad I didn’t suffer from claustrophobia.

  I moved quickly, afraid there might be something dangerous in the air—after all, the gas mask wouldn’t protect my eyes and ears. The tight crawl space took away my sense of distance, so I had no idea how far I’d gone before I found another stone slab blocking the way. This looked like part of the structure, and it was so well embedded I couldn’t tell its size. There was definitely no getting around it. The tunnel expanded dramatically at this point, as if the digger had tried to find a way around the stone but had not managed to find its edges.

  I tried not to feel disheartened at being blocked a second time, but I went back the way I came and told the other two what I’d seen. We couldn’t understand it. Did there just happen to be a big chunk of rock smack in the path of the tunnel?

  And there was still no explaining the piece of stone that had sprung up out of nowhere, keeping us from going back. Ancient tombs are full of all sorts of intricate mechanisms, but this went beyond intricate to downright bizarre.

  There were only two paths left unexplored. I didn’t have high hopes about the right-hand branch, but it seemed like bad luck to admit it. Besides, as the saying goes, don’t shed tears until you see the coffin. Hopefully we’d actually get to see a coffin—by making it through to the burial chamber.

  No point scaring myself. After a few minutes’ rest, I climbed into the right-hand tunnel, and as I’d expected, a bit farther in, there was a giant piece of rock blocking the way forward. I yelled in frustration, then stopped abruptly when I noticed that something was different.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  As I shined my flashlight at the rock face in front of me, I saw that someone had tried to dig upward.

  Fish Bone Temple was in a gully, and this passage sloped down toward the natural limestone caves. To tunnel upward was surely the longest possible way out, and also the most complicated, because the mountains here were riddled with holes and might easily collapse. This was a last resort.

  It only took a single glance upward for me to know there was no hope here. This little offshoot went on barely ten meters before reaching another dead end. Where were these rocks springing up from? It was as if we were in a giant stone sarcophagus, sealing us in tight.

  Back at the junction, I told the other two the bad news. Kai and I had been in many sticky situations before, so he wasn’t really worried. Seeing that we weren’t panicking, Gold Tooth settled down too. That’s the strange thing about human beings—fear spreads like wildfire, but if you can get enough people in a group to remain calm, it creates a firewall from the emotion.

  Being frightened impairs your judgment, so the most important thing in these situations is to avoid scaring yourself. The way I saw it, we just needed to figure out where all these stone slabs were coming from. Once we knew that, we’d be able to find a way out.

  “This is my fault,” lamented Gold Tooth. “I should have stayed up above in case you didn’t come back. Now there’s no way we can summon help.”

  “Don’t worry,” I consoled him. “We’re not desperate yet. Besides, I don’t know what good you could have done from the outside—these rocks must weigh a ton, and you’d need dynamite to get them out of the way.”

  “Do you have a plan?” Gold Tooth asked hopefully.

  “A plan?” I laughed. “I’m taking it one step at a time. We could have died crossing the Yellow River and didn’t. So I guess we’ve got luck on our side. We’ll find a way out.”

  “I’d rather have drowned in the river than die here like a trapped rat,” Kai said with a moan.

  “Listen,” I said, “both of you. Three of these tunnels are blocked, but the fourth one should lead us into the Tang dynasty tomb. Focus on that. The gold hunter who built Fish Bone Temple came this way too, and we haven’t seen his skeleton anywhere, which means he managed to escape. So let’s keep going and see what happens when we’ve found the grave.”

  This made sense to them. Once again, Kai led the way with his geese. As we crawled ahead, I thought how rushing into things has always been my downfall. It’s not a good trait in a gold hunter, who needs to be prepared to survive any strange situation that comes up.

  If Julie Yang had been with us, she’d never have let us enter the tunnel together. I wondered how she was doing in America and whether she’d found help for Professor Chen yet.

  “Tianyi!” Kai’s voice cut through my tangled thoughts. “Cave up ahead!”

  I heard water dripping, which made me crawl faster. Kai was already through into the larger space. I shined the flashlight around and saw heaps of dirt underfoot, debris from the tunnel we’d just passed through.

  Gold Tooth emerged behind me, and we explored our new surroundings. This wasn’t a limestone cave, just a little hollow within the mountain. The water was coming from the far side, probably where the legendary Dragon Ridge caverns began.

  The tunnel continued at the other side of the cavern at exactly the same angle. “Listen,” said Gold Tooth. “Doesn’t that dripping sound like it’s from a larger cave? So why didn’t the Fish Bone Temple guy get out that way, rather than digging these side tunnels?”

  “Everyone around here says these caves are a maze,” I replied. “It’s easy to get disoriented. So how would he find a way out so easily? All we know is that this path leads to the tomb. As to how we get out, well, that’s another question.”

  “Stop talking and let’s keep moving,” Kai urged. “We can come back here if there’s no other way out, but we should see the tomb before deciding.”

  “I’ve never seen you so keen to find an exit,” I retorted. “You’re just after the treasure in the tomb, aren’t you? As long as you know those jewels won’t help you if we’re stuck down here.”

  “I’m being strategic,” Kai said. “Think about it. Is there a way out? We have no idea. Are there precious artifacts in the tomb? Definitely. So let’s go with what we know for certain, stick the treasure in our pockets, then deal with the maybes. If we really are trapped, at least we won’t die poor. And—”

  “Enough,” I said, cutting him off. “Save your energy. You’ll need it.”

  Kai pushed the
geese into the next stretch of tunnel and made to follow them. I yanked him back and pulled his gas mask on first. Although the passage to the limestone cave should be fine, we might find it harder to breathe as we drew closer to the burial chamber. Better to be prepared.

  Masks on, we dampened towels from our water bottles and slung them around our necks. Gold Tooth gave Kai a jade Goddess of Mercy charm as additional protection.

  Now we were ready to tackle the second stretch. It was very short—just fifty meters before it started sloping upward, then another ten meters before we hit brick.

  These green clay bricks usually sat right underneath the coffin and would only be a foot deep, easy to break through with a shovel. Every other surface of the tomb would be built of thick stone and iron bars, with molten metal poured into any cracks to seal them tight. The bricks composed the one area that was vulnerable.

  On the whole, Tang dynasty graves were among the most solid and magnificent structures in Chinese history, and they were often built into mountains, surrounded on all sides by heavy rock fortifications. Their weak spots were protected by traps that kicked into action once the bricks were disturbed. These could be anything from a deluge of sand, flying arrows, or an avalanche of crushing stones to gates slamming down and sealing the place shut. These small patches of porous brick were part of the design so some air could get in, but the imperial families who’d built these tombs had clearly decided they’d rather lose that airflow than allow a single thief to find their way in.

  Another gold hunter had come before us and would already have dealt with these traps, which at least saved us some trouble.

  Kai pushed the geese up against the end of the tunnel so they could sample the air. As we crouched down below, I couldn’t stop thinking about the stone walls that had just appeared out of thin air behind us. I didn’t know of a single mechanism that could do that. Were they ghost-walls? Somehow they seemed pretty solid to me. What strange creatures awaited us? Whose tomb was it? Had my gold-hunting predecessor managed to escape?

  The geese seemed fine, so Kai smashed through the green bricks, and the three of us climbed up into the tomb. The burial chamber was quite large, at least two hundred square meters. I shined my flashlight around and gasped. “This is the tomb,” I said. “But where’s the coffin?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Ever since ancient times, burial chambers have contained coffins. The Book of Burial, a centuries-old book, recorded that these chambers were also known as “the halls of merciful peace” and were at the very heart of every tomb. Whether these were family mausoleums or individual graves, the deceased would be dressed in formal robes and laid to rest in the coffin, the lid firmly closed. If the body was unavailable for one reason or another, a set of clothes belonging to the departed would be buried in his or her place. The coffin is the one essential component. Gold-hunting rules are strict about this, and no practitioner would ever remove the coffin along with the other treasures. Besides, the coffin in this tomb never would have fit through the narrow tunnel.

  Once again, my world felt like it had been upended. None of this made sense. Could the coffin have evaporated?

  We stared for a while, our mouths open. Gold Tooth’s brain was the quickest—he nudged me and murmured, “Tianyi, it’s not just the coffin. Look around—what else is wrong?”

  I shined my flashlight around the room again. He was right: the chamber had been stripped. The floor was completely bare. Never mind the absence of grave goods, there wasn’t so much as a pebble.

  Everything about this structure suggested it was meant for an aristocrat. The perfect right angles of the floor slowly gave way to an exquisitely constructed dome. An orderly earth and a circular heaven, exactly as the ancients conceived of our universe.

  There were six stone racks on the ground, standing empty. Gold Tooth and I recognized them at once—they ought to have held six varieties of jade, representing the sky, the earth, and the four cardinal directions. Only a member of the royal household would receive such an honor.

  The walls weren’t exactly bare, but rather than proper murals, they had only basic sketches with no colors, mostly depicting thirteen ladies of the court beneath the heavens. These women had ample, soft curves, which would have been considered the epitome of beauty at the time. Some were holding embroidered boxes, some jade teapots, and some musical instruments.

  I’d never seen anything like this. “What do you make of it?” I asked, turning to Gold Tooth.

  He shook his head. “Very strange. This is obviously the tomb of an important person, almost certainly a woman—perhaps a concubine or princess. But these pictures…”

  “They’re unfinished?” I ventured.

  “Yes. That’s not just unusual—it makes no sense at all.”

  I knew he was right. You never see half-finished tombs. Even in the case of someone falling out of favor at court, they’d still receive a proper burial with all the available pomp. That was because every emperor knew that appearances had to be maintained, and conflicts had to be kept within the palace grounds. Even if someone was assassinated or put to death, they’d still receive a grave befitting their station.

  I got out a candle and placed it in the southeast corner of the room. The flame was weak, but it remained firmly upright and didn’t show any sign of wanting to go out. Relieved, I called the other two over to show them. To save batteries, we shared one flashlight between us. Luckily, there was nothing around for us to trip over. With the two geese in tow, we passed through the stone doorway into the front chamber.

  Right up to the Qing dynasty, the front chamber of every tomb was known as the “life room,” because everything in it had to be set up according to the way the deceased had lived. If they’d been at court, then that was what the chamber had to look like. For the rest of the aristocracy, with the exception of the emperor, this representation had to largely be symbolic; otherwise grand palaces would be springing up all over the place belowground. Instead, miniature versions of their earthly homes were created to serve as their tombs.

  A perverse destiny had given us a ready-made tunnel into this tomb, only for us to find it empty and ourselves sealed inside. Our only hope was the front chamber. There we were in for another shock: the front chamber was even bigger, but the perfect replica of an ancient palace was only half finished. The basic structure was in place, but whoever built it seemed to have given up and sealed the stone walls with iron bars and molten metal, leaving only the floor still permeable. In one corner was a pool with a little fountain still burbling away.

  I pointed this out to Gold Tooth. “Look at that. This is what’s known as a coffin-stream. In feng shui terms, that’s a highly auspicious feature. Looking at this place from the outside, I’d noticed how the weather had damaged the hills—in feng shui terms, we’d call this ‘crippling the dragon,’ because the altered landscape wouldn’t have as much good energy. Yet inside, we have this rare feature that’s neither flooded nor dried up over the years but still works just fine. If a woman had been buried here, her descendants would have enjoyed great fortune because of this.”

  “A coffin-stream?” Gold Tooth repeated. “I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never seen one for myself. So this is good feng shui? That’s odd, then. Why would they only build half a tomb and not even bury the dead person?”

  “Strange things happen all the time,” I said. “We’re just encountering an unusual number of them today.”

  “That’s not so weird,” Kai said, butting in. “Maybe they were rushing off to war, or they spent too much money and couldn’t afford to finish the job.”

  Gold Tooth and I shook our heads. “No way. Changing locations halfway through a burial is the most inauspicious thing you can do,” I said. “And this place is perfect in feng shui terms, not to mention practicality: it’s so hard to spot from the outside, keeping it safe from grave robbers. If there had been a w
ar or some other great disaster, they wouldn’t have bothered to seal up the place.”

  Gold Tooth nodded in agreement. “Yes, and judging by the condition of the walls and door, they didn’t stop work in a hurry; instead they took their time with the final closing of the tomb. They weren’t postponing either—it would’ve been too much work to get that door open again. Not just that one, there’d be at least four similar doors beyond it.”

  Why had they walked away, then? Surely for some unavoidable reason, but it was impossible to imagine what that might have been.

  My gold-hunting predecessor must have fallen for the same ruse and ended up in an empty tomb. Again I reminded myself that his corpse was nowhere to be seen, so he must have gotten out.

  There was nothing that could help us here, so we beat a retreat into the main chamber, quickly checking out the back room and side chambers. There was nothing there either, and finally we decided that we might as well go back the way we came.

  As we headed through the main chamber, we all agreed that this whole situation was impossible to explain. “There are such things as false tombs. General Cao Cao and Emperor Hongwu both used them as decoys,” I said. “But this definitely isn’t one of those, because—”

  Before we reached the tunnel, Kai suddenly smacked me to be quiet, and Gold Tooth raised his finger to his lips at the same moment. Looking up, I saw something in the southeast corner of the tomb, right behind the candle.

  The candle was flickering, throwing uncertain light into every corner. In the shadows was a large, terrifyingly pale face, its body hidden beyond the circle of light.

  We were by the stone doorway, too far away for our flashlights to reach the figure. It was just a blurry, eerie mass.

  I’d looked into every corner when we first got to this point, and there definitely hadn’t been anything at all like that. None of the court ladies in the murals had such an enormous, alarming face.