Chapter Twenty-One: Family Members

Behind me was a flight of stairs leading down into utter darkness. Even when I shone my flashlight into it, nothing could be seen. At that moment, I glanced again at the spot where the spider silk connected to the watchtower and discovered, to my astonishment, that a five-meter-long carved mural stretched across it. Studying it closely, I realized the relief depicted only one thing—something I never would have guessed: bamboo. The bamboo in the relief was thick and robust, with eight nearly transparent threads of spider silk weaving among them, though I couldn’t fathom how that effect was achieved.

On either side of the walkway atop the tower were two windows each. The paper panes had long since been reduced to dust by the passage of a thousand years, and even the wooden frames were broken and incomplete. I walked slowly to the pair of windows on the left and shone my flashlight inside. What I saw first left me stunned, then sent a cold chill surging up from the soles of my feet, instantly flooding my mind.

It was a spacious room, furnished with wooden tables and chairs. A curtain divided the space in the middle, and various baskets and other objects I didn’t recognize hung from the walls. What truly terrified me was that everything inside looked perfectly preserved. There was no sign of dust or decay, no evidence of the ravages of time—just as if someone was living here. But who in the world would reside in a place like this?

Gripped by fear, I swept the flashlight around, dreading to see someone suddenly appear.

The beam flickered, and my scalp tingled as though it would burst. Somehow, a person was now sprawled beside me. His back was hunched, his head lowered, body curled into a ball. From behind, he looked—he looked just like Old Tan.

No, "just like" was wrong—it was him, damn it. That wretch must have crawled over without my noticing, probably spraining his ankle in the fall and now lying there grimacing in pain.

“Damn it, when I called for you to catch me, were you deaf or what?” Old Tan complained, straightening up stiffly.

I must have been so absorbed by what I’d seen in the room that I hadn’t heard him at all. But his arrival put me at ease.

“Where’s Peanut?” I was about to ask, when from the darkness ahead, a figure shot toward us with feline agility. Had I not known the reason, Peanut’s pouncing silhouette would have scared me rigid.

Soon, Peanut was standing at our side. With all three of us safely together on the wall, I could hardly believe it. But as we’d made it, it was time to find out what had become of my father. I had no interest in the reliefs or the mysterious room—dwelling on such things would only breed fear. So I urged Old Tan and Peanut to descend the stairs.

Old Tan and Peanut looked around briefly, then followed me down. We’d only taken a few steps when all three of us stopped in unison.

“Hey, Lao Yuan, look—more of those murals,” Old Tan said in amazement, pointing at the walls.

I was startled. The murals lining both sides of the staircase depicted the very things we’d seen earlier in the narrow mountain passage. But here, there were no armed crowds—only the dazed, defeated caravans from before. Judging by their postures, they seemed to be resting; even the soldiers with crossbows and bows were slumped on the ground, the scene one of utter disarray. Glancing from side to side, I soon spotted the most ornate carriage once again. In this mural, its windows were shut tight, but the curtain at the front was drawn open. I scanned the group of maids nearby, hoping to spot the one with the spider tattoo on her hand, but she was nowhere to be found.

Peanut was studying the mural intently. “Do you know what this story is saying?” I asked him.

He shook his head, pointing at the maids. “They seem to be gossiping about something.”

Looking closely, I saw he was right—the maids were clustered together, most with their hands over their mouths, their eyes darting furtively about. But I found nothing strange in that.

“Women are women, ancient or modern—they’re probably just gossiping about their mistress,” I said.

Peanut chuckled. “You may be right. Let’s go.”

After one last glance at the murals, the three of us continued down. Near the final few steps, Peanut suddenly raised his hand, signaling us to stop.

“What is it?” I shone my light ahead, but saw nothing unusual except the stone slabs at the exit.

“When Lord Hua says stop, you stop—just listen to him,” Old Tan said, his tone now entirely different since Peanut had saved his skin earlier.

Peanut gave a relaxed smile. “It’s nothing. I thought I saw a few people hiding against the walls at the exit, waiting to ambush us.”

No sooner had he spoken than we heard a rustling sound from both sides of the exit. I realized he hadn’t been speaking idly. In an instant, Peanut leaped off the steps, while two figures darted from the shadows at the exit, lunging at him.

Sensing trouble, I jumped down to help. But Peanut was ready—he dodged their attack with ease, though the two men reacted quickly, halting after three steps and doubling back, each reaching for his collar. This time, Peanut gave them no chance. Instead of retreating, he advanced, grabbing each by the wrist and deftly twisting their arms. Before they could even cry out, pain shot through their hands and they went down hard.

“Lord Hua, you’re amazing! That’s the pose!” Old Tan cheered, fumbling for his phone to take a photo.

“Are you nuts? Go help!” I snapped. There were still two opponents; I couldn’t just let Peanut handle them alone.

But before we could move, two more figures burst from the darkness. I barely glimpsed their shadows before a numbness seized my arms—when I realized what was happening, both my arms had been twisted behind my back. Old Tan suffered the same fate, and the man behind him drove a knee into his back, forcing him to the ground.

“Let go! Ah! You’re breaking my arms!” Old Tan howled.

The man behind him grunted, “Tell your boss to let our people go!”

Both our flashlights had fallen to the ground, plunging us into darkness. I couldn’t see what was happening on Peanut’s side. Yet as soon as the man behind Old Tan spoke, I was struck by a sense of familiarity.

Had I heard that voice before? Thinking hard, I suddenly shouted, “Er Lengzi from the Liu family?”

The man hesitated, clearly taken aback.

“It’s me—Yuan Jie.”

“What?” He released Old Tan at once, picked up a flashlight, and shone it at my face. “Young master, it really is you!”

Er Lengzi pushed the man behind me aside and yelled to the others, “Stop fighting! It’s the young master—it’s one of us!”

Immediately, a dozen flashlight beams flickered on in front of us. Er Lengzi helped me to my feet; his face was filthy, but he wore a broad, delighted grin. The others crowded around, and a figure whose features looked very familiar stepped forward.

“Yuanzi, what are you doing here?”

I didn’t react at first, but when I recognized him, I cried out, “Second Uncle!”

Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined finding my second uncle here. At that moment, my lingering fear since entering the ancient tomb finally melted away.

“Ah, so you know about your father’s predicament?” Second Uncle was visibly moved.

“Yes. It’s a long story, but I know everything now. My father’s fate is uncertain—I had to come to save him.”

Second Uncle seemed about to say more, but only sighed and patted my shoulder.

“So they’re all your family, then? If you’d said so sooner, we wouldn’t have started a fight,” Old Tan muttered, getting up from the ground.

Er Lengzi grinned and waved his hand. “Sorry, we were a bit rough just now. Sometimes you have to fight before you know someone.”

“If you have to fight everyone you meet, I’d have been beaten to death long ago. Good thing I’m tough,” Old Tan said, waving it off.

I quickly introduced Old Tan, but halfway through, I remembered Peanut. Across the crowd, the two men who’d tangled with him staggered back, faces bruised and battered. Peanut appeared in the flashlight beams, smiling as always.

Everyone eyed him warily.

I hurried to explain, “He’s one of us—just a misunderstanding. His name is Chen—” I couldn’t recall Peanut’s real name for the life of me. “He’s called Peanut, a friend of my father’s.”

“Your father’s friend?” Second Uncle looked at Peanut, puzzled. “I don’t recall your father having a companion like him.”

Peanut offered no explanation, just strolled to my side and apologized to the two men he’d roughed up.

Sensing the awkwardness, Er Lengzi laughed loudly. “Young master, you’re something else—gathering your own crew so fast. Let’s talk over there.”

My own crew? I glanced at Peanut and Old Tan. Honestly, what a ragtag bunch—Peanut lent some flair, but the rest of us were only good for taking smartphone photos.

Beneath the archway of the tower, Old Tan, Peanut, Second Uncle, Er Lengzi, and I sat together. After a few pleasantries, I recounted everything that had happened since my return home.

Second Uncle listened, then gave a wry smile. “So your father hid the truth from you for over twenty years, yet you found out in the end.”

“Second Uncle, about the things beneath the old house…” I began, but he held up a hand and looked at Peanut.

“I’ve never been down there. Apart from your father, you’ll have to ask someone inside,” he said.

Though it was obvious he meant Peanut, the latter only kept his usual unconcerned expression. I could only leave my questions for my father later. “By the way, Second Uncle, how did you hear my father was in trouble?”

Er Lengzi answered, his face falling. “I told Second Uncle. This time, the old master brought only me into the tomb and told me not to say a word. I was uneasy from the start—this time, we were with the Dirt Dog gang, and they’re many and strong. If anything happened, we’d have no backup. Then, after we entered, the old master told me to wait outside. I pleaded, but he wouldn’t let me join him. I waited at the entrance for three days, when suddenly there was a tremor and a collapse blocked the entrance. I was helpless, so I called Second Uncle, and he and the others rushed over. They still only arrived half a day before you. I—I really am useless.”

I patted Er Lengzi on the shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself.”

Second Uncle added, “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Your father must have had his reasons.”

Suddenly, I sensed something was off. “Wait, Second Uncle, you’ve been in here half a day already—why are you still stuck at the entrance?”