Black Shroud of Corpses

Black Shroud of Corpses – Chapter 2, Thousand Year Old Tomb

| Black Shroud of Corpses |

Translator: Silavin

 

Under a large Camphor Tree in front of the thatched house, there were several people standing, anxiously looking around. When they saw Hansheng and his Father, they hurried forward to greet them.

 

“Doctor Zhu, my Wife is about to give birth. Please come quickly!” the middle-aged man at the front anxiously said.

 

“Alright, I’ll gather my things and go,” his Father went inside to get his medicine box.

 

“Hansheng, I may not be able to return today. Tonight at 7, count the bones before tieing them up tightly with white cloth strips. Place them on the niche in the west room. Remember to light three incense sticks,” his Father hurriedly instructed Hansheng as he shouldered his medicine box.

 

“Got it.” Hansheng replied. He walked into the west room to put down the cloth bag. He knew that delivering a baby was different from treating an illness. Sometimes, the woman in labour would struggle for a day or two before giving birth. Thus, his Father would have to stay there to monitor her at all times. It looks like once again, he would be eating dinner alone tonight.

 

In the evening, when the lamps were lit, Hansheng hurriedly ate a few mouthfuls of food. Looking at the clock, it was already 7. He went to the niche in the west room, took down the cloth bag, and began counting the bones under the oil lamp as his Father had instructed.

 

Having followed his Father as an apprentice since childhood, with over ten years of experience, Hansheng was familiar with the human body. He knew that there were 204 bones in the human body, both big and small. He had heard that foreigners had 206 bones, one more bone in their fifth toe which Chinese do not have. Though, this was something even his Father had never seen before.

 

“175, 176, 177…” Hansheng counted aloud. [Huh? How is it that this is it?]

 

He turned the bag upside down, but it was completely empty. There was not a single bone left.

 

[Which one is missing? There are a total of 27 missing.] He thought for a moment, then decided to lay them out to check. No sooner said than done, Hansheng arranged all the bones in the order of the human body. By the end of the auspicious period, when the clock struck 9, the human skeleton was fully assembled.

 

His Great Grandfather’s skeleton laid quietly on the floor of the west room, missing only the right hand…

 

Hansheng looked out the window. The rain had stopped, and stars could be seen through gaps in the clouds. Moonlight scattered, casting a hazy glow over the mountains.

 

[The missing hand bones must have been hidden in the dust at the bottom of the coffin.] He blamed himself for being careless at the time. [Great Grandfather, it’s not that I was intentionally being disrespectful to you, but… No. I have to go retrieve them.]

 

Thinking this, he stood up, took out a flashlight and a cloth bag. He shouldered a shovel and he went out.

 

The homes in the village had all locked their doors by this time. Since there was no electrical infrastructure here yet, to save on lamp oil, the locals generally went to bed early after dinner.

 

The mountain path was uneven, with moonlight appearing and disappearing. From time to time, there were *cracking* sounds from the bamboo forest. Some were the sound of bamboo shoots growing at night. Although those who studied medicine did not believe in ghosts, walking alone in the pitch-black bamboo forest still made one’s heart race.

 

The flashlight beam swayed, and he inadvertently saw many crows perched on bamboo branches, staring at him with their small red eyes.

 

Finally, deeper inside of the bamboo forest, the grave dug during the day was still there. The mound of earth had been washed by the rain, leaving small gullies. Hansheng had to tiptoe to the pit.

 

When he did so, the moon had once again hidden behind thick clouds, suddenly darkening the world.

 

The flashlight was very weak, since this set of batteries had been used for a long time. To save money, his Father always put used batteries by the fire pit to dry, trying to extend their use as much as possible. Hansheng hoped they would not die out tonight.

 

[I have to hurry.] Without further thought, Hansheng jumped into the coffin in the pit.

 

Rain and dust had mixed into a thick mud. He carefully brushed away the slurry, exposing the ends of the hand bones at the bottom of the coffin. He had finally found them! He finally breathed a sigh of relief.

 

He gently pinched one end of the hand bones and pulled out the entire finger bones. In the dim light, a hole about the size of a fist was revealed…

 

He remembered his Father saying that in the past, wealthy Families would spend large sums to hire Feng Shui Masters to find a good burial location. A good site which was only auspicious for burial. Only extremely skilled Feng Shui Masters understood and could perform the ‘Golden Well Technique’. This technique consisted of digging a small vertical hole through the bottom of the coffin, at the position of the back of the head of the deceased. That way, the corpse would be able to draw Energy from the Earth. This hole was called ‘Golden Well’ or ‘Gateway to the Soul’.

 

Hansheng stared blankly at the pitch-black hole. There was a cool, musty smell emanating from within. He thought this must be Energy from the Earth.

 

The Golden Well usually contained the most precious objects the tomb owner cherished in their life, such as jewellery or jade. It was said that behind the head position of Empress Dowager Cixi’s coffin, which was located in her palace, was a Golden Well filled with countless jewels.

 

[But my Great Grandfather should be a poor itinerant doctor. Why does he have a Golden Well in his coffin? What’s inside?] As Hansheng pondered this, he became excited.

 

※※※

 

Night had deepened. The crows had probably gone to sleep. The bamboo forest was silent, with only occasional glimpses of wandering green light. They were Ghost Fires or ‘will-o’-the-wisp’, created from the spontaneous combustion of phosphorus released from decomposing corpses in the graves.

 

The flashlight was getting weaker and weaker. It was now unable to illuminate how deep the Golden Well was. So Hansheng climbed out of the pit and broke off a bamboo pole taller than a grown man. He carefully inserted it into the Golden Well, stopping when the pole was about to reach the end. [Seems like the hole is about as deep as a person.]

 

At this moment, moonlight filtered through the clouds, making the pit clearly visible.

 

Curiosity got the better of him. No sooner said than done, Hansheng turned off the flashlight, picked up the iron shovel, and began digging under the moonlight. In the quiet forest, only the sound of his panting could be heard…

 

After digging downward along the bamboo pole into the Golden Well for nearly two hours, the pit got deeper and deeper. However, he could still see nothing inside. Just then, the shovel in his hand seemed to have hit something hard, making a hollow sound.

 

Hansheng crouched down and brushed away the loose soil with his hand. Under the moonlight, he saw a layer of white. He scooped up a piece in his palm to examine it closely. It was white lime paste, about six centimetres thick.

 

Hansheng’s spirits got lifted, [There must be something underneath!]

 

When he vigorously scraped away the lime seal and looked again, there was shockingly another coffin below…

 

[There’s another coffin under this one?] He sat down in shock.

 

Since ancient times, choosing a grave site included avoiding having a coffin pressed on top of another. This was extremely inauspicious. According to superstition, the resentment of the one underneath would rise to become a malevolent force, not only destroying the Feng Shui around the area but also bringing calamity to the descendants of the coffin owner above. It was so bad it might even cause bloodshed.

 

However, since his Great Grandfather’s burial site had a Golden Well dug out, it must have been carefully inspected. In short, how could it have been built on top of someone else’s grave without them knowing about it?

 

Coffins buried in the earth sink by a certain amount each year. Some by tiny amounts, others by centimetres. It all depended on the structure of the soil. This place was in the mountains, with very compact soil. If it had naturally sunk to a depth of two or three metres, that should have taken thousands of years. This meant that when his Great Grandfather chose his burial site, the grave below had not been discovered. The Golden Well was only dug to draw Energy from the Earth. Since this seemed to be an auspicious Feng Shui location. After a thousand years, someone had coincidentally chosen the same place. It was truly a stroke of fate.

 

Hansheng was now certain without a doubt that the coffin underneath was at least a thousand years old.

 

※※※

 

The coffin lid of the ancient tomb was a single board. It was greyish-brown in colour with fine grain. It gave off a faint fragrance that Hansheng recognized – it was made from Camphor, containing natural Camphor Oil that repels insects and prevents them from damaging the coffin. To have been made into this coffin lid meant that the old Camphor Tree must have been over a thousand years old.

 

Hansheng cleared away the covering soil and lime paste, then tried to open the lid. He first clasped his hands and bowed three times to the ancient tomb, paying his respects. Then, he forcefully dug the iron shovel in.

 

Although the wood quality was excellent, it had inevitably decayed somewhat after so many years. Under the impact of the shovel, a crack suddenly opened, and faint red corpse gas escaped from the fissure.

 

Hansheng could not see the corpse gas at all. He only smelled a sweet scent. Immediately, his body slowly collapsed onto the coffin board, his face right over the crack in the lid.

 

Under the pale moonlight, following the red corpse gas, there were dozens of white filaments that crawled out from the crevice, wrapping around Hansheng’s face. Those thread-like things, as thin as mycelium, burrowed straight into his nostrils.

 

In ancient times, what Feng Shui Masters feared most when moving graves for people was corpse gas. If carelessly inhaled, it could cause illness or even death. Most people misunderstood this as being possessed by ghosts, because ordinary people could not see corpse gas with their naked eye. Of course, some amateur Feng Shui Masters could not see it themselves either. The most dangerous and malevolent of the corpse gases was the red ones. However, encountering one was extremely rare. Contact with this gas meant certain death, with no possible cure.

 

However, all things under Heaven was fair, for every poison, there exists an antidote within a few metres. This is the principle of mutual generation and restriction. The nemesis of this highly toxic red corpse gas was precisely these white filaments, called ‘White Mountain Beard’, a fungus that parasitized decomposing corpses.

 

This fungus grows in a very peculiar way, slowly developing and remaining dormant in a sealed environment, where the temperature remains stagnant. However, it would rapidly grow when exposed to air.

 

Hansheng inhaled the red corpse gas and his fate should have been sealed. He was simply fortunate that the White Mountain Beard had finally encountered air and grew wildly out of the crack. It coincidentally meeting Hansheng’s face and burrowing into his nostrils, neutralising the corpse gas.

 

This was also a stroke of fate.

 

When Hansheng gradually woke up, he had no idea he had just been on the brink of death.

 

“Why did I doze off?” he muttered to himself.

 


 

| Black Shroud of Corpses |

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