Chapter 39: The Secret Tales of Guli

At this moment, I found myself atop the very altar I had glimpsed from afar before. All around me were vast pools formed from the congealed, dark blood, their metallic stench so thick it churned the stomach. I lay upon a stone slab, the chill seeping through my entire body. Not far from me loomed the black object I had seen earlier—now, I could see it clearly: a massive stone coffin, identical to the one I’d encountered on Dragon Mountain. Yet here, there was no sound of a heartbeat emanating from within, which made me breathe a little easier.

“You’ve been ensnared. Those murals can disturb your mind,” the man with the black sunglasses said coolly.

I started, realizing there was some truth to this. Normally, I had little interest in murals, but earlier, I’d found myself utterly absorbed, staring until I’d seen them all. What puzzled me was why the effect only took hold after I’d dealt with the blood corpse. Now wasn’t the time to ponder it, though; I sat up quickly—the stone slab was unbearably cold.

I glanced at the man in black sunglasses. He seemed to be recovering, so I asked, “How did you get here? And what is this thing?”

He explained that after I’d left, he’d rested a bit in place. According to him, he had even more reason to come here than I did, so he followed. He arrived just in time to find me under the murals’ spell—at that moment, I was trying with all my might to push open the coffin lid. He’d promptly knocked me out with a swift chop.

As for what lay within the coffin, he wasn’t sure. The carvings on it depicted all manner of demons and monsters—a riot of supernatural beings. From this, he deduced that the coffin was not to be touched, and since I’d tried to open it while under the influence, it must not be opened at any cost.

I rested for a moment, then got up and circled the coffin. I hadn’t studied the one on Dragon Mountain closely, but I was struck by the resemblance. Both were relics of the ancient Gu Li Kingdom—they might even be identical.

But what could be inside? I reached out to touch the stone, and at once, an overwhelming curiosity seized me. I was desperate to open it, just for a single glimpse.

“Don’t touch it!”

The moment his voice rang out, it was as if a bell had struck inside me, snapping me back to myself. Black Sunglasses continued, “This coffin isn’t made of ordinary material. I don’t know what it is, but it’s best not to touch it. Something terrible could happen. The carvings show… this is meant to imprison a demon.”

At that, I hastily withdrew my hand. No wonder I’d been so gripped by that urge—nearly caught again by the spell. How humiliating. But what sort of demon could be held here? I suspected it was some unknown creature. The thought brought to mind the blood corpse—just what was that thing? I hurriedly checked my inner pocket. Thankfully, I breathed a sigh of relief—the pill was still there.

Why hadn’t Black Sunglasses taken it? If he’d searched me, he would have found it. I didn’t ask, and he gave no explanation.

“I can tell you’re after the legendary Spirit Blood Pill,” he said, as if reading my mind. “I guessed as much—you’re not the type to refuse me outright otherwise. But I won’t take it from you, not for now. We need two people to leave this place, and as I am, I’m no match for you. So rest easy. I haven’t touched your things.”

He had laid out my worries plainly. I didn’t know why two people were needed to escape, but he seemed to have a way out, and that was enough to reassure me.

As I was about to ask what he planned next, I noticed Black Sunglasses staring intently at the stone coffin. I asked what he was looking at, but he ignored me, lost in concentration. I reached for my jacket pocket—my cigarettes were gone. Just as I was about to prompt him to get moving, he suddenly sprang up and began frantically pushing at the coffin lid.

His actions startled me, and I asked, “What are you doing?!”

He didn’t respond, straining to shove at the lid. Oddly, it wasn’t as heavy as I remembered—the coffin shifted. Suddenly, I realized what was happening—had he, too, fallen under the spell?

I rushed to stop him. It was then I was certain: he was under the influence, oblivious to me. In our struggle, the coffin lid was pried open. Instinctively, I fell back a few steps, drawing my dagger, bracing for whatever might emerge.

Black Sunglasses collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath. “What just happened?” he asked.

While keeping a wary eye on the coffin, I explained. When I was done, he cursed, “Damn it, even I can fall for it! The master of this place must have been truly formidable.”

It was rare to see him flustered, but I remained focused on the coffin. He stepped back, too. After a tense moment with no sign of danger, I was about to tell him it was time to leave—whatever lay here, we were better off not knowing. This place was too sinister. But Black Sunglasses insisted on taking a look. Truth be told, curiosity tugged at me as well. We’d waited so long with nothing happening—perhaps it was safe enough for a quick look.

Carefully, we approached. To my surprise, there were no demons or giant hearts inside—nothing like the Mother Gu I’d seen on Dragon Mountain. Instead, a person lay within the black stone coffin—an utterly ordinary-looking person.

He wore a golden mask, his features hidden. His whole body was clad in ancient ceremonial robes, perfectly preserved, without a trace of decay. Gloved hands crossed upon his chest, he was surrounded by jewels of every kind, sparkling in the flashlight’s beam, lending him an air of unassailable dignity.

Such a person could only be someone of great importance. My guess was that this must be the last king of the Gu Li Kingdom. As I turned to ask Black Sunglasses what to do next, I saw him reaching to remove the golden mask. I couldn’t help but mutter, “Hey, Black, that’s a bit disrespectful, isn’t it? If you want treasure, there’s plenty of it here—why go for the mask?”

Before I could finish, he snatched the mask away, and what I dreaded most occurred. Beneath the golden mask—there was no face. Yes, absolutely nothing: featureless, starkly white, smooth as porcelain.

“What the hell is this? Did it get turned around somehow?” My voice trembled despite myself. The crossed arms made it clear the body wasn’t simply turned over, and who would wear a mask backwards, lying in wait to frighten intruders?

“I finally understand now,” Black Sunglasses said, a strange laugh escaping him. “So that’s how it is.”

I pressed him for answers. He grinned again and said, “When I was looking at the carvings on the coffin, even though I was entranced, the images stayed with me.”

He then explained: the person in the coffin was not the Gu Li king at all—the blood corpse was. The figure lying here was the leader depicted in the murals, likely a high priest or sorcerer. Seeking to repel invaders, he’d used forbidden arts to craft evil creatures, but suffered a backlash. These creatures would only obey those of royal Gu Li blood, whose hereditary power could control them. Thus, the king could not be killed. The sorcerer, driven by envy for this power and the pursuit of immortality, used the Spirit Blood Pearl to bind the king, making him a prisoner, and placed himself in the very spot meant for the king, hoping to use dark magic to resurrect himself and gain eternal life.

This place had been built at the sorcerer’s urging, ostensibly for the king’s longevity, but in the end, all the king’s efforts only served another’s ambitions. Imprisoned for millennia, he became something neither man nor ghost.

It was true—the Gu Li king had been preserved by secret arts for thousands of years, the Spirit Blood Pearl keeping his body from decay and granting him a sliver of instinctual consciousness. As Black Sunglasses explained, that was due to Gu worms inside his body, endlessly dividing and regenerating, able to control the brain and perform basic actions. Even in death, the king’s body was a puppet for these sinister insects.

Perhaps it was this vestige of will that had guided us here, seeking revenge against the sorcerer. I wondered how Black Sunglasses knew all this—he only said it was shown in the carvings, though I couldn’t make sense of them myself, nor dared look too closely for fear of being ensnared again. Yet he pointed to one carving and said, “See, the people in this scene have no faces. That must be this fellow here. He really is quite bizarre.”