Chapter Ten: The Musicians’ Mouse

I eagerly began rifling through my father’s phone, but before I could even light up the screen, a sudden tension seized my heart. The phone was smeared with dried blood, clearly there for some time. A grim foreboding crept over me, but I forced myself to steady my trembling hands and began to check through the call logs and messages. All I found in the call records were my own number and the dormitory phone; the message box contained nothing but billing statements.

Abruptly, I dropped the phone and lunged at the boy, grabbing his collar and shouting, “Why is there nothing in my father’s phone? You said he was connected to something—did you delete it?”

“No, it’s not like that. There’s a recording from your father,” the boy shrank into himself, his gaze fixed on Peanut.

I released him and picked up the phone again, searching for the recording. It was true: though my father could read, typing on a phone was far too advanced for him, so recording would have been his preferred method. I quickly found the sole audio file. I took a deep breath, uncertain of what I was about to hear, and after several seconds, pressed play.

Instantly, a loud crashing sound erupted from the phone, startling us all. It was as if someone were pounding a metal door with a sledgehammer. Stranger still, amid the metallic clamor, a woman’s sobbing pierced through, sending chills down our spines.

Our expressions were stiff as we waited for the noise to fade. After about half a minute, the two sounds diminished noticeably. Heavy breathing followed, echoing from the device.

“It’s Dad, it’s my dad.” I cried out, turning to Peanut and Old Tan. At this moment, I noticed the grave look on Peanut’s face, and in the corner of his eye, an elusive glimmer of doubt.

“Yuanzi, it’s your father.” At last, my father’s voice came through. Never before had I heard him sound so weary and heavy. I couldn’t help but recall his usual spirited demeanor before me. Wiping away my tears, I forced myself to listen closely.

“If you can hear this, your old man should have joined your grandfather by now. Don’t be sad, this is your father’s fate. When I’m gone, you still have your two uncles and your youngest aunt. From now on, live well in Yanjing, don’t think about anything else. The one who gave you this phone is not a good person—give him what he wants, then set the old house ablaze. Remember, after you pay respects to your grandfather, never return for the rest of your life. And…”

At that point, my father’s words were interrupted by another crash of metal, followed by what sounded like rocks collapsing. My body tensed even more, and after more than a minute, I heard my father cough violently.

“Cough… damned… cough… Yuanjie, your father has thought long and hard. I think I must tell you the truth: I am a grave robber. Your grandfather and his father were in this line too. I didn’t want you to inherit this, so I never dared tell you anything, but at least you’ve stayed away. There’s one more important thing…”

Then, the boy beside me spoke up in the recording. “Sixth Master Yuan, there’s no time. If you keep talking, we’ll die together.”

“All right, your uncles will remind you anyway. Yuanjie…”

My father’s voice was abruptly drowned out by another thunderous crash, and, amid the sound of collapsing rock, the recording cut off.

Silence engulfed us. I felt unable to adjust, as if cursed by reality itself, whispering: Your father is dead. These are his last words.

“No, impossible, impossible… It’s you!” I stared wide-eyed at the boy, locking my gaze on him. “It’s you! You lied to me! You lied to me!”

Just as I was about to lunge, Old Tan seized me in a bear hug. “Yuanjie, calm down. Let’s… let’s hear what he has to say, first.”

After that instant of rage, exhaustion washed over me. My muscles felt uncontrollable as I collapsed weakly to the floor.

“Master Yuan, it really has nothing to do with me. I was just a guide. The situation was so complicated then, nobody could do anything…” His words were lost on me; my mind was still echoing with my father’s final voice. Peanut was the calmest among us. He crouched beside the boy.

“Your accent is Suzhou. What’s your name?”

“I don’t have a name. On the street, people call me ‘Eight-tone Rat.’”

Peanut nodded. “Since you were with Master Yuan, why are you the only one who made it out alive?”

Hearing this, I sprang up from the floor. “Exactly! Damn it, why are you the only one who came back? Did you and that guy called Dog do something to my father?”

“Hey, hey, don’t accuse me. I have some skill, but compared to Sixth Master Yuan, I’m just a rat.”

I had no patience for his false humility. “Then explain what happened.”

The Rat glanced at us with shifty eyes. “I escaped that cursed place because I can compress my bones.”

“Compress your bones?” Old Tan sneered, “If you’re going to lie, at least come up with something believable. You think we’re idiots?”

The Rat didn’t answer, but his body suddenly moved. His movements were bizarre, as if all his joints were dislocating at once, emitting a series of cracking sounds. Old Tan stared, eyes wide. In less than ten seconds, the Rat had curled into a ball half his original size, his hands splayed on the floor, scuttling about with uncanny agility.

“It’s real.” Who knows how many times tonight Old Tan had been stunned. I too was transfixed.

Soon, the Rat shook himself and returned to normal, a hint of pride on his face.

“We’re asking about what happened. If you like showing off, I’ll lock you in the cellar for three to five years. You can keep practicing in there—maybe when you shrink down to the size of an ant, you’ll be able to crawl out.”

Peanut’s words were teasing, but the barely concealed menace in his eyes served as a deadly warning to the Rat.

“All right, I’ll talk. Honestly, I was just a gofer. Master Dog was close with our boss, so the boss let me lead the way for them. Sixth Master followed behind. That trip was perilous, but you know, they wouldn’t let an outsider see the real stuff. When we reached the tomb chamber, I was told to wait outside, but I waited three whole days. I thought something happened to them inside and tried to flee, but as soon as I moved, it was as if the tomb exploded. I dared not linger. But as I ran back, I found… found…”

He began to tremble.

“Hurry up,” Old Tan urged, impatient.

“I found the tomb passage had split into three. I was so scared. Then Sixth Master Yuan came out, looking frantic, bleeding all over, as if bitten by something. It was awful…”

My eyes welled up as I listened. Peanut said, “We’re not interested in that for now—tell us what happened next.”

“Afterward… Sixth Master and I discussed and figured the two side passages were decoys, so we chose the middle one. Soon, the path seemed wrong; we ended up in a side chamber, huge and terrifying. Then, from the passage we’d come, we heard a group of women crying. Sixth Master said the thing was catching up and dragged me into a side door. Those things chased us, howling. I was so scared I wet myself, didn’t dare look back. It was pitch-black. We ended up behind a massive iron door, not sure what mechanism triggered it, but once we entered, it shut automatically. With a candle, we saw the iron door led to a half-dug tunnel. We thought we were saved and ran inside. Then those things caught up, slamming the door. Whatever they were, their strength was monstrous—twenty-centimeter-thick iron nearly split open. We could only keep running, but the tunnel narrowed until Sixth Master couldn’t go further. Then, you know the rest: Sixth Master recorded a message and sent me out with it.”

After he finished, I was silent for a long time. I couldn’t fathom grave robbing, nor did I know how to feel. The only thing clear was the helplessness inside me.

Peanut suddenly smiled. “You said Master Yuan made you bring out the phone? That was his idea?”

The Rat immediately avoided Peanut’s gaze.

“Then how do you explain what you want from this old house?” Peanut pressed on, “Want me to answer for you? The truth is, this was your idea. Master Yuan just wanted to leave a few last words for his son—you used the chance to demand he hand over the item. You claim to be a gofer, but I think you know much more than you let on.”

“I…” The Rat was speechless.

“You bastard, my father was dying and you still threatened him! I’ll kill you!” I kicked him hard.

He scrambled away, making a pleading gesture. “Master Yuan, I had no choice! If I failed, my boss would kill me anyway. Please, spare me.”

I bit my lip so hard it bled, barely restraining my fury.

“Actually, our boss never meant to help Dog; he wanted something from the tomb. I don’t know exactly what—it’s called the ‘Blue-blood Dragon Pattern.’ For some reason, our boss desperately wants this item. He started frenzied tomb-raiding across the country but found nothing. Later, he learned it might be in a royal tomb in Sichuan and sent me along. When we left, the boss said, ‘When you return, bring the Blue-blood Dragon Pattern or your own head.’ Truly, I had no choice. I know I wronged Sixth Master, but please, sirs, have mercy on a wretch like me.”

Peanut stopped me with a hand and asked, “What’s the connection between the old house and the Blue-blood Dragon Pattern?”

The Rat blinked, squeezing out a few tears. “At first, I didn’t know. But when they went into the tomb, I didn’t stay put—I followed. I saw Dog and Sixth Master arguing. Dog said, ‘The key must be with you,’ forcing Sixth Master to hand it over. Then Sixth Master caught me. I thought I was doomed, but the tomb exploded, smoke billowed, Dog was swept away by something, and Sixth Master took me to escape. The rest went as I said before.”

“Who would believe you?” Old Tan spat.

Peanut suddenly smiled deeply, his gaze making the Rat shudder.

“I believe you,” Peanut said softly. “Not only that, I’ll help you take the key and retrieve the Blue-blood Dragon Pattern.”