Chapter Twenty: Traces of Spiders and Shadows of Ghosts

Then Peanut fell silent. I turned my head toward the darkness ahead, and suddenly it felt as though something new had crept into the gloom around us.

Half an hour later, Old Tan finally came to. The moment he opened his eyes, he screamed like a madman, “Ah! Monster! Old Yuan, help me!”

I went over and gave him a kick. “Alright, with you howling like that, never mind monsters—even the King of Hell would be scared off.”

Only after glancing around did Old Tan calm down a little. I asked him what had happened just now, and why he’d been snatched away by that creature without even making a sound.

Old Tan immediately began to tremble. “I don’t know either. I was just by the moat, searching for the mechanism you guys mentioned. Suddenly, a hand reached from behind and covered my mouth. I didn’t even get a chance to shout before I felt myself being lifted up by something. Then something else covered my head. I struggled desperately, but couldn’t breathe, and eventually I blacked out… Oh, right, how did you guys manage to rescue me?”

I recounted what had happened, and after listening, Old Tan looked at Peanut with deep gratitude and asked how his wound was.

Peanut smiled, shook his head, and said it was nothing serious. Then he asked, “You said a hand covered your mouth just now?”

“That’s right. I was still holding the flashlight, so I could see. That hand was ghostly pale and icy cold. Now that I think about it, damn, it seemed—it seemed like a woman’s hand.”

After Old Tan said this, my skin crawled and I hurriedly told him to stop. We had no time to speculate whether the creature was a spider or something else. I explained Peanut’s plan to Old Tan and told him to drink some water and get ready to move.

The man’s curious about everything but has a tiny bit of courage. Having been strung up like a smoked ham just now, I thought he’d be more frightened than me. But who’d have guessed he’d get all excited, rubbing his hands and asking if I could take his picture up there to show some woman later.

I shot him a look, thinking, you can worry about women if you make it out alive.

According to Peanut’s analysis, each of the six stone columns should have a strand of spider silk radiating from a point on the opposite tower like the ribs of a fan. That’s why he’d been able to crawl from so far away to Old Tan’s side. For safety’s sake, Peanut decided we should all take the same strand he had just climbed, moving one after another.

I couldn’t help but say, “But how are Old Tan and I supposed to get up there?”

Peanut didn’t answer, but instead took a climbing rope from his pack, tied one end around my waist, climbed up first, looped the rope over the stone column’s carved face, and then slid back down the pillar.

I immediately understood. “You’re going to pull me up?”

“That’s right. But you’ll have to lead the way. The strand is right in front of the forehead on the carved face. When you get up, just squat down and you’ll find it.” Peanut finished and gave a gracious “please” gesture.

Cold sweat broke out on me. I thought, Father, I know you’ve had it rough, but your son isn’t having it easy either. Without further hesitation, I started climbing the stone column.

Saying I was climbing is a bit of a stretch. The surface was so smooth it made Old Tan’s face look like sandpaper. Climbing was out of the question—just clinging on without slipping off was already a feat. I was entirely reliant on Peanut hauling me up, inch by inch.

There weren’t any pulleys up there. Peanut had to bear my entire weight—over 150 pounds. But the guy’s hands didn’t even tremble. In less than five minutes, he’d pulled me all the way to the top of the column.

“Be careful, Old Yuan!” Old Tan called from below.

“I’m fine—I made it,” I replied, though my legs were already shaking. I don’t know why, but once I was up there, everything around me started to sway. Looking down gave me a serious case of vertigo. But I knew that looking down now would only scare me to death, so I crouched, undid the rope at my waist, and began to search for the strand Peanut had mentioned.

“There’s a sticky texture to the silk—it’s easy to climb,” Peanut called up.

Suddenly, my palm chilled as I found something sticky in the darkness. I’d expected it to be a spider strand, so I subconsciously assumed it would be thin. But the moment I touched it, I nearly jumped out of my skin—the strand was as thick as my arm, almost completely transparent.

“This is supposed to be spider silk? If so, what kind of monster spider could spin this?” I didn’t dare think further. I shouted down, “I found it!”

“Then drop the rope down and let’s move quickly. The longer we wait, the greater the risk.” Old Tan, eager for his photo, urged me on.

I cursed him and reached with my other hand to drop the rope. But Peanut had wedged the rope into a groove between the ear and skull of the carved face, which I hadn’t noticed earlier. Now, with my backpack and fear of falling, I was clumsy, and the groove was a little distance from the top. I had to stretch half my body out to reach the rope.

Glancing around, I realized there was no other way. So, prostrating myself like a lump of mud on the giant stone face, I reached for the rope.

That nearly did me in. The moment I lowered my head, I saw Old Tan and Peanut below, illuminated by their torches, and a powerful sense of vertigo surged through me. This was nothing like looking down from a tall building. I felt lightheaded, but managed to untie the rope.

As soon as the climbing rope dropped, I shut my eyes and slowly straightened up. Peanut shone his flashlight at me, and I clipped mine to my belt so I could see clearly while climbing.

For a moment, none of us dared make a sound. Peanut and Old Tan stared up at me while I clung desperately to the silk strand, afraid of slipping off. But that worry was pointless—the silk was just as Peanut had said: incredibly adhesive. Once both hands were on it, I felt almost glued in place. I wondered how I was supposed to climb.

It took me a full three minutes to get all my limbs in position. As soon as I did, the silk swayed, making every muscle in my body tense. I kept chanting prayers in my mind, and only after a long while did the strand finally steady.

“Don’t be scared—just imagine you’re a monkey,” Old Tan shouted from below.

I almost burst into tears. A monkey would have a tough time too. But still, I slowly reached forward. I soon realized how strange the spider silk was: when still, it gripped you tightly, but as soon as I moved, I could easily let go and move forward. It was almost like a hostess at a nightclub—clingy while you’re there, but as soon as you’re done, she lets you go without a fuss.

I must have been scared out of my wits, because as I climbed, my mind wandered to the most random thoughts. There was hardly any space left for fear; all I could think was, whatever happens, don’t let go.

In the face of extreme danger—or what you believe is extreme danger—if you grit your teeth, you can often do things you never thought possible. Climbing a rope is nothing remarkable, but for me, in that moment, it was the limit of my abilities. Looking back, I realize so many of my “firsts” in life were forced on me by ancient tombs.

I don’t know how long I climbed. Eventually, Old Tan and Peanut’s voices faded into the distance and then disappeared completely. Just as I was about to look around, my head slammed into something hard above me, making my teeth ache with pain.

I turned and shouted, “Thank heaven, I finally made it!”

A wave of exhilaration and triumph swept through me. Glancing back, I saw the stone floor was close beneath me. At the same time, my arms and legs went weak—I don’t know if it was my nerves or just exhaustion, but I slipped off the spider silk. The stone floor was cold, but I felt a solid sense of relief.

The silk ended right above the tower, near a stone path a meter or two away. I landed on my back, pack and all, lay there for ages, and finally stood up.

Standing on top of the watchtower, I shone my flashlight downward. A sudden sense of temporal dislocation hit me, as if I’d stepped into the ancient past. But that excitement was quickly drowned by the pervasive, uncanny silence all around.