Chapter Ninety-Three: Chanting the Scriptures

The moment the lamp was lit, a woman’s voice rose again from within the cave. My scalp prickled. Li Qing yanked me behind him at once, guarding every direction. Her voice was distant and unreal, yet clear and beautiful, as if it came from some divine realm.

I could not tell where it was coming from. It seemed to surround us from every side. She was not speaking exactly, but chanting something—like a scripture, though not quite. Still, I was certain it was some kind of sacred text.

“Who is it?” Li Qing gave a cold snort.

No one answered him. The ethereal chanting continued. Her voice was lovely to begin with, and with the cadence of the verses layered over it, I gradually began to feel dizzy. The cave seemed to drift and blur before my eyes. I even felt as though my soul were slowly slipping out of my body, yet I could not stop it.

Then, all at once, a burning sting flashed across my face. I jerked back to myself and saw Li Qing frowning at me. Looking at his hand, I understood at once that the pain had come from the slap he had just given me.

“What happened? I almost fell asleep,” I said.

“Your little darling did this good deed,” Li Qing cursed.

“What does he have to do with it? Why did the voice stop? What did you do?” I asked.

Li Qing glanced at me, crouched down, and lit the lamp again. The moment it flared to life, the woman’s voice drifted out once more. Then Li Qing reached out and snuffed it out with his hand. The instant the flame died, her chanting vanished too.

Without him saying a word, I already understood. I crouched beside the lamp and studied the naked woman holding it. Taking the lighter from Li Qing, I lit the lamp again while watching the woman’s mouth carefully. In the harsh beam of the flashlight, I could see a thin white thread wafting out from her lips. If I had not looked closely, I might have mistaken it for a breath of white vapor.

If the fat man had been here, I might still have been able to ask him what this meant. But Li Qing was a man of martial arts through and through, and in matters like this, even his imagination might have been less than mine. Asking him would have been useless.

That playful little weasel had somehow become the lamp oil inside this lantern. It made me think of the tale from the Journey to the West about the rat spirit—how it gained its power after eating the Buddha’s lamp oil. The thought only made me more bewildered. The old tales of ghosts and oddities might not have been mere nonsense after all. Perhaps the ancients had some basis for what they wrote?

So was that little weasel actually the transformed lamp oil of this lamp? And if so, what was with the mysterious woman chanting once the lamp was lit? Was it some clever mechanism, or was there truly a spirit of some kind? And why did that scripture make me nearly faint, as if my soul were being torn from my body? Even now, the top of my head still ached faintly. I did not dare imagine what would have happened if Li Qing had not slapped me awake just then.

I lit a cigarette. There were too many questions crowding my mind, and none of them could be answered by my own ability. Seeing my face clouded with worry, Li Qing came over and said with a smile, “What’s there to think about? Weasels are the craftiest creatures there are. It was acting cute in front of you on purpose just to get you to trust it. That chanting was probably some kind of soul-snatching verse, meant to take your life.”

I did not refute him, nor could I. I still did not believe that that foolishly adorable little thing truly meant to kill me. I had heard from the fat man that weasels repay vengeance as vengeance, but they also repay kindness as kindness. I had indeed saved its life just now. How could it turn around and want mine?

Still, I absolutely did not dare light the lamp again. The little weasel had not appeared again, and all we could do now was wait, with no more attempts. Li Qing and I ate something. I checked my phone: it was already six in the morning, six hours since we had fallen into this trap. There was still no sign of anything outside.

So I sat there idly while Li Qing pulled out his phone and played Tetris. Later I got so bored that I watched him play. Watched and watched, and somehow fell asleep. In my dream, the little weasel had become my pet, frolicking in my arms with Han Xue like a little dog. But then, suddenly, it bared a mouth full of fangs and lunged for Han Xue’s neck.

When I woke, I was drenched in cold sweat. Beside me, Li Qing was snoring softly. I checked my phone again: it was past ten, nearly noon.

I did not wake Li Qing. Being bored with two people was no different from being bored alone. Li Qing could endure being trapped underground, but I could not. Worse, I was beginning to feel that breathing in this cave had become increasingly difficult. That suddenly made me realize something: Li Qing had estimated how long our food and water would last, but he had overlooked how long the oxygen in this not-so-large, sealed cave could sustain us.

That realization filled me with even greater panic. We might well be suffocated in here despite having food and water. Perhaps it was only my sixth sense playing tricks, but I already felt my head growing heavy and my concentration slipping away.

At last, my gaze returned once again to that naked woman’s lotus lamp.

And so I sat there in silence until five in the afternoon.

Li Qing truly had an admirable state of mind. In such surroundings, he had slept all the way until now. As soon as he woke, he immediately understood the problem. “Damn it,” he said. “There isn’t enough oxygen in here.”

“Only now do you realize it?” I gave him a bitter smile. I had understood this for some time already, and by now I was certain it was not merely psychological. Indeed, because of the lack of oxygen, my chest felt tight, my heart was racing, and I had to breathe more and more often.

Li Qing stood up and once again began pacing around the cave. I knew he was making one last attempt.

Another hour passed. The rescue we had been waiting for never came. My older brother and Chen Dongfang seemed to have abandoned us, though I knew they would not truly do that—they simply could not find this place.

My consciousness began to blur again. Li Qing was clutching his chest, clearly in pain.

I crouched down and moved to light the lamp. Li Qing said weakly, “Are you insane? There’s already not enough oxygen.”

“I’m taking the gamble,” I said. “If I don’t light it, we won’t last much longer anyway. If I do, there’s still a chance we live.”

With that, I gave a bitter laugh and lit the lamp.

Once again, the woman’s chanting drifted out from the naked lotus lamp.