The Tomb Gate Chronicles 05: The Serpent Marsh Ghost City

**Chapter 1**

About a month after the expedition to the Cloud-Top Heavenly Palace, I stayed behind in Jilin to take care of Third Uncle. This time, I was extra cautious—I was afraid he’d disappear again the moment he woke up, so I simply moved into the hospital and lived right by his bedside.

As it turned out, my decision was a wise one, though at the time, no one else thought so.

His condition had stabilized, but he still showed no signs of waking up. His breathing was steady, his complexion healthy, yet there was no cognitive response. The doctors said this was normal—his wounds had been severely infected, and they couldn’t tell whether the fever had damaged his central nervous system. Whether he’d wake up or not was a matter of luck.

I had no choice but to wait. During that time, family members came to visit me a few times, but I refused to leave the hospital for meals, afraid that Third Uncle would vanish the moment I stepped out. My mother called me foolish, but I stubbornly stuck to my decision. Without exaggeration, for that entire month before he woke up, I hardly ever strayed more than ten meters from him.

During the long wait, I kept myself busy. I had already pieced together most of the clues from the Cloud-Top Heavenly Palace. After returning to China, several consultants from Ah Ning’s company had also sent me the materials they had on the "Untraceable Clouds" project, including over a dozen photos Ah Ning had taken of the metaphorical murals in the main coffin chamber of the underwater tomb’s rear hall, as well as the complete translations of the bronze fish inscriptions.

Putting it all together, I had finally unraveled the mysteries surrounding Wang Zanghai, and my mind gradually eased. Wang Zanghai was truly a genius ahead of his time. Now, he could rest in peace—the secrets he had painstakingly passed down had finally been received. Even though, in my era, I still couldn’t explain the things he had witnessed, the fact that the secrets had been preserved meant that one day, they would be deciphered.

What still weighed on me were the motives of "Silent Zhang" and Third Uncle. Based on my speculations, it seemed that everyone who had entered the underwater tomb twenty years ago had been searching for the giant door beneath the Cloud-Top Heavenly Palace—they all seemed determined to enter it. And I had personally witnessed Silent Zhang enter it in a jaw-dropping manner. As for the two missing bodies (whoever they were) among the corpses of Li Sidi and the others in the treasure chamber, they might have gone in as well.

But why? What were they trying to accomplish by going in?

All the mysteries seemed to converge on the events that had taken place in the underwater tomb twenty years ago. Wang Zanghai must have left something—or some message—in his own tomb, something that had driven all of them to fixate on reaching the Cloud-Top Heavenly Palace. Unfortunately, I had to wait for Third Uncle to wake up before I could get any answers.

In the meantime, I also helped Fatty auction off the six gold artifacts he had brought out. This expedition had been the most profitable for him—those gold pieces were incredibly valuable. One of them, a Western Regions-style stemmed cup inlaid with agate, sold for four hundred thousand dollars. True to his word, Fatty gave me a cut as commission, saying it was for equipment on our next "Lama Toting" trip. I swore to him with the most venomous oath that there would never be a next time.

As the days passed, I began to feel a creeping boredom. My patience wore thin during the endless wait. For the first few months, there had been plenty to keep me occupied, but later, I spent most of my time staring at the black-and-white photo on Third Uncle’s computer. I often wondered—what the hell was that damned Silent Zhang doing now? Untraceable.

Just when I thought I’d be stuck in this limbo for several more months, Third Uncle’s attending physician suddenly came to find me, saying he needed to discuss something urgent.

Third Uncle’s condition had been stable for a long time, and the doctors hadn’t been checking on him much. I was caught off guard—had something changed even though he was lying there motionless?

Anxious, I followed the doctor to his office, only to find one of Third Uncle’s shop assistants waiting there. When I asked what was going on, the man hesitated, stammering and turning red in the face.

I knew this assistant well—he was one of Third Uncle’s most capable men, and I’d never seen him act like this before. A bad feeling instantly settled in my gut. *Oh no*, I thought, *this is a setup!*

I rushed back to the ward, only to grit my teeth in frustration—Third Uncle was gone.

The bed was a mess, the blankets tangled. I checked under the bed, inside the cabinets—nothing. No doubt about it, the old fox had made a run for it while I was in the doctor’s office!

I stood there stunned. *When did he wake up? When did he contact someone outside? How did I not notice anything?*

Then, rage exploded inside me. I can’t even describe how furious I was. Staring at the empty bed, thinking of the months I’d spent trapped here, too afraid to leave even for a second, waiting for him to wake up and give me answers—it felt like something was choking my chest. A crushing sense of defeat overwhelmed me.

I slammed my fist onto the bed with a loud *bang*.

What I couldn’t understand was—*why* was he avoiding me? *Why?* At this point, what could he possibly still be hiding? Was the secret in his heart really that important?

But just as I was fuming, torn between punching the doctor or bashing my own head against the wall, I suddenly heard a commotion outside the door. I turned to see Third Uncle being dragged back into the ward, looking thoroughly chastised. And the person hauling him in? None other than my Second Uncle.

Turns out, when Third Uncle had tried to sneak out, he’d run straight into Second Uncle in the hallway. Naturally, he couldn’t admit he was trying to escape from me, so he had no choice but to slink back in shame.

I kept a straight face and didn’t expose him. We chatted idly for a while, and I took the chance to tell him everything that had happened while he was unconscious, along with all my deductions. He didn’t comment, though his expression shifted slightly when I mentioned Silent Zhang entering the giant door.

Eventually, Second Uncle left, telling me to keep an eye on the "old rascal." The moment he was gone, I confronted Third Uncle—*When did you wake up? How long have you been faking it?*

Third Uncle looked embarrassed, but since I’d caught him, he had no choice but to admit he’d just woken up and had only been trying to go to the bathroom. I let that slide—it might even have been true. I couldn’t imagine anyone pretending to be unconscious for a whole month. But when I pressed him for answers about everything else, he simply gave up resisting—he refused to talk, insisting it had nothing to do with me.

I lost my temper. "You old b*st*rd," I snapped. "Do you have any idea how much I’ve suffered because of you? What about Da Kui and Panzi, who risked their lives for you? Don’t they deserve to know what they were fighting for?"

My words were harsh, but I was genuinely furious—especially when I thought of how deeply loyal Panzi had been to this old man. It made me sick.

Third Uncle finally fell silent. He let out a few bitter laughs, sighed, and shook his head. "This has nothing to do with you. Knowing might only make things worse for you. I’m keeping quiet for your own good—why can’t you just let it go?"

I shook my head. Even if it brought me misery, I *needed* to know the whole truth. Otherwise, I’d never stop.

I spoke firmly, locking eyes with him to make sure he understood—this time, he wasn’t getting away. No more tricks.

This was one of the things I’d learned over the past few days. I’d anticipated this scenario and had read up on psychology, figuring out how to break down someone’s defenses when they were guarding a secret.

Third Uncle thought for a long moment, then heaved another sigh, as if finally making up his mind. Rubbing his eyes, he said, "Ah, I never expected this. They say children are creditors from a past life—I thought I’d avoided that by not having any, but here you are, haunting me anyway. Fine. You’re determined to know, aren’t you?"

I glared. "You’ve got some nerve. Who’s haunting who? Have *you* ever been nearly buried alive underwater? Eaten by monkeys? Or—"

Third Uncle raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Since you’re so desperate, I’ll make an exception and tell you. But you have to swear—no matter what you hear, you can’t tell a soul."

I swore without hesitation—a bloodcurdling oath that my entire family would die if I broke it.

Third Uncle was taken aback by how extreme my vow was. After a long pause, he shook his head and chuckled. "I’ll warn you now—this isn’t something just anyone would believe. If you don’t buy it after I tell you, that’s not my problem."

I coughed impatiently. "At this point, there’s nothing I *wouldn’t* believe. Just spit it out."

**Grave Robbers' Chronicles: Snake Marsh Ghost City Arc**

**Chapter 2: The Unbearable Past**

After Third Uncle finally regained consciousness, I couldn’t wait to press him for details about the whole incident. Naively, I felt like I was getting closer to the truth—but to my surprise, his account began with events recorded in my grandfather’s notebook fifty years ago.

This time, I hadn’t brought Grandfather’s notebook with me, but I remembered its contents clearly. What happened that night fifty years ago was bizarre and unsettling, yet Grandfather never finished writing about it. After he was poisoned and fell unconscious, we knew nothing of what followed. Even now, recalling the words in that notebook gave me an indescribable feeling.

But when Third Uncle mentioned it, I suddenly doubted him. Grandfather had always been tight-lipped about the matter—no matter how much we younger generation pressed him before his death, he never spoke a word. Third Uncle had never gotten along with Grandfather, so I was sure Grandfather wouldn’t have told him anything.

So when he brought it up, I said, “Don’t you dare bullshit me. Fifty years ago, Granddad was still a kid with his pants down. If he kept his mouth shut, how the hell would you know? Don’t spin me some tall tale—I won’t fall for it again.”

Third Uncle frowned. “You get impatient w