Volume One: Eight Coffins of the Corpse Field Chapter 37: Auxiliary Star

In other words, after Ma Su and I entered the passage, someone else came along, cleared out the tomb monkeys, and then followed us inside. A chill ran down my spine as I turned to call out to Ma Su, only to find that something was wrong with him.

He stood there stiff and straight, his eyes staring blankly ahead, pupils rolling upward. His arms hung stiffly at his sides, and his legs trembled uncontrollably.

This was bad.

I realized with alarm that he was exhibiting the same symptoms as Third Uncle and Liang Yue under the control of the flute. I remembered then that the flute could control people, and the only reason I hadn’t succumbed was the absence of a crucial yang-fire lantern.

I watched in terror as the strange professor Ma Su’s gaze grew increasingly vacant. I knew that once the flute’s control was complete, it would be too late. But what could I do to save him?

Frantic, I paced and fumbled through my belongings, desperately searching for anything that might help. By pure instinct, my hand landed on the sealing ointment Third Uncle had given me.

According to Third Uncle, this ointment not only promoted circulation, dispelled toxins, and restored yang energy, but also, when affixed to the shoulder, could ward off wandering spirits seeking to possess the living. The name “sealing ointment” referred to its ability to block the passage between body and soul.

I didn’t understand the mechanism by which the flute controlled people, but with nothing else to try, I decided to give it a go.

Ma Su, still under the influence of the flute, began to move toward the passage where we’d found the coffin and the Taoist corpse. Without hesitation, I rushed up, tore open his shirt, and slapped the ointment onto his shoulder.

It was a desperate move, but unexpectedly, it worked. As soon as the ointment made contact, Ma Su stopped in his tracks. After a brief hesitation, he turned to me and asked, “Li Yang, why did you slap me?”

I couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time. Did he really have no idea what had just happened?

Pointing to the ointment, I said, “Looks like you’re awake now. If I hadn’t put this on you, you’d have followed the flute just like Third Uncle and Liang Yue.”

Ma Su glanced at the ointment on his shoulder in fascination, muttering, “Does this plaster really have such miraculous effects? What’s it made of?”

He seemed intent on peeling it off for a closer look, so I quickly stopped him. “Old Ma, if you want to study it, wait until we’re back. For now, it’s best to leave it where it is…”

He paused, tilting his head to listen. The faint, haunting sound of the bone flute still echoed through the air.

I pointed to the passage Ma Su had been about to enter. “You were about to walk in there, led away by the flute.”

Ma Su nodded. “We went through here too hastily earlier. There must be something we missed.”

We exchanged a glance, nodded in unison, and re-entered the tomb passage.

The flute, the burial chambers, the hanging Taoist, the Sanskrit on the coffin, the footprints of a third person… All of it remained a mystery. I knew danger lay ahead, but my resolve had only hardened—especially since Third Uncle and Liang Yue’s fate was still uncertain.

We searched the way down, passing coffin after coffin and hanging Taoist, but nothing had changed. We scoured the burial chamber thoroughly, but found nothing.

It wasn’t until we reached the last chamber that something happened.

Ma Su surveyed the room, then suddenly crouched down and brought out paper and pen, sketching something. I was puzzled—why would the eccentric professor be in the mood to draw at a time like this? I knelt beside him to look.

His lines were clear and simple. I saw him mark seven dots on the paper, forming the shape of a dipper—resembling the Big Dipper constellation.

At last, as if waking from a dream, Ma Su murmured, “Just as I thought.”

I pressed him for an explanation, but he simply shook his head and said, “Follow me.”

With that, he turned and started back the way we’d come. Knowing he must have found something, I followed.

After some winding through the passages, Ma Su led me into another chamber, though I’d lost track of which one. The ancient cypress-oil lamps still burned bright, their fuel long-lasting. This chamber was like all the others—nothing but an ancient coffin and a hanging Taoist. We’d searched it countless times.

Yet Ma Su stopped here, examining his sketch.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked, “Old Ma, is that the Big Dipper? What are you getting at?”

He pointed to the stars on the paper. “The Big Dipper consists of seven stars: Dubhe, Merak, Phecda, Megrez, Alioth, Mizar, and Alkaid. The first four form the bowl; the last three, the handle. I’ve confirmed it—these seven chambers are arranged in the shape of the Big Dipper, and this spot, where we stand, is the central handle star, Mizar.”

I nodded. “But what does that mean?”

Ma Su went on, “In ancient Chinese astronomy, celestial patterns corresponded closely to earthly geography. If these tombs mirror the Big Dipper, then there must be another star—a hidden chamber we haven’t found, right here.”

He drew another star beside Mizar on his sketch and connected it with a line.

I was startled. “An eighth star?”

Ma Su nodded. “Exactly. If you look closely at the sky, you’ll notice a faint companion near Mizar, known as Alcor, also called the ‘attendant’ star. Ancient astronomers saw it as Mizar’s guardian, forming a binary star. Together, they’re called ‘Mizar and Alcor.’”

At that moment, my admiration for Ma Su bordered on awe. This eccentric professor was worthy of the title—he’d probably spent his whole life in study, his mind a veritable encyclopedia, able to expound on any subject at a moment’s notice. His memory was extraordinary, citing sources with ease.

As if to prove my thoughts, he launched into further explanation. “According to the ‘Records of the Grand Historian,’ if Alcor shines bright, the minister is loyal and strong; if dim, the state is weak. The ‘Book of Jin’ also says Alcor is close to Mizar, assisting the Dipper’s success, a sign of the prime minister. When the seven main stars are bright, the nation prospers; when Alcor is bright, the ministers are powerful. In the Song dynasty…”

I quickly stopped him. Once he got started on the classics, his eyes would light up as if he’d forgotten where he was—likely the same way he lectured in his university classroom.

I waved him off. “Old Ma, your learning is impressive, but just tell me the conclusion. We don’t have time for details.”

He looked a little disappointed but said, “My point is, there must be another chamber beside this one—corresponding to Alcor.”

“How is that possible? We’ve searched every inch of this place. Are we supposed to start breaking through the walls?”

Ma Su pointed at the coffin. “Push it aside.”

I understood. If there was any part of this chamber we hadn’t examined, it would be the space beneath the coffin.

Given how things stood, I was clearly the designated muscle for moving coffins.

Following Ma Su’s instructions, I braced myself and pushed at the foot of the coffin. The wood was badly decayed, riddled with cracks and gaps; I was afraid it would collapse under pressure. Ma Su, sensing my hesitation, reassured me, “Ancient coffins were crafted with great skill. Their structure may seem simple, but they were made by master artisans. Even in this state, they won’t fall apart easily. I’ll help from behind; it’ll be fine.”

I nodded, planting my feet and gripping the coffin. Wisps of black vapor seeped from the cracks, and I dreaded the stench. Luckily, I wore the urine-soaked mask—though the reek of ammonia filled my nose, it blocked out everything else. Unpleasant as it was, the mask worked—I hadn’t felt any discomfort since entering the tomb.

The coffin was sticky to the touch, which made the task all the more unpleasant. Gritting my teeth, I pushed with most of my strength.

Surprisingly, though the coffin appeared massive, it began to slide with just a few shoves.

Soon, I had shifted it more than half a meter, revealing a smooth stone slab beneath where the coffin had rested.

No wonder the coffin moved so easily—it had been set atop the stone.

Ma Su urged me to keep going until the coffin was completely clear.

A solid stone slab now lay exposed at our feet.

Ma Su picked up a lamp and crouched to examine it.

The slab was covered in densely packed characters, all in neatly engraved clerical script. The elegant prose was hardly inviting, and I had no patience to try reading it.

Fortunately, Ma Su was there; this sort of thing was his domain.

Though I was anxious, I knew there was no shortcut—we had to proceed step by step. My instincts told me we were close to the truth. Third Uncle and Liang Yue might be just the other side of the wall.

I pinned my hopes for breaking through on Ma Su.

He held the lamp close, studying the slab intently. After a full quarter of an hour, he finally stood, stretching his stiff back with a grimace.

I hurried to ask, “Old Ma, what does it say?”

He replied, “It describes the identity of the tomb’s owner—a kind of epitaph. It seems my theory was correct…”

(End of this chapter)