Chapter Ten: The Hand of the Dead

Danzi and Longzi wrapped their bag in a plastic cover; though they had to go into the water, the bag would stay dry. The two of them slipped cautiously beneath the surface. As Longzi followed Danzi below, he discovered that the structure beneath the water was designed like layers of flowerbeds in a park. The water filled one level before spilling into the next, and when that layer was full, it cascaded to another below. The tiered flow kept the water from becoming too turbulent and ensured the tree’s roots remained moist.

Still, questions swirled in Longzi’s mind. This tree, so much like a ginkgo, didn’t drown—what purpose did it serve? How many more were on the island? As he pondered whether the tree could be a rare medicinal plant, he regretted not taking a sample with him. Just then, Danzi grabbed him.

Longzi had been so absorbed in his musings as he crossed the successive flowerbeds that he hadn’t noticed his surroundings. The tug snapped him back to attention.

Danzi was gesturing wildly, in a way that reminded Longzi of a shaman’s dance; he nearly laughed aloud. But when he saw Danzi pointing to his feet, his legs went weak.

The beam of the flashlight wavered around Danzi’s feet, making it hard to see clearly, but Longzi could make out countless greenish hands at the bottom of the water. He realized with a chill that he had crossed several layers without noticing them.

Danzi was holding his breath, frozen in place, terrified that any movement would attract the attention of these aquatic creatures and lead to his doom. But staying still wasn’t a solution either. As Longzi frantically considered their next move, Danzi suddenly let out a cry.

“It’s got me! It’s got me! Quick, kill it! Kill it!”

Danzi thrashed desperately, as if possessed by a vengeful spirit, twisting madly to escape. But the more he struggled, the tighter the hands gripped him. Having only recently recovered, Danzi’s face now drained of all color.

But Longzi noticed with confusion that the corpse hands only grabbed Danzi and not himself. Did they only seize the living and ignore the dead? The two were only a couple of meters apart.

“Danzi, don’t move!” Longzi called, lowering his right hand and waving it gently twice, signaling Danzi to be still and quiet, not to make a sound.

Danzi obeyed, allowing the corpse hands beneath the water to toy with him. After a while, as nothing happened, the hands gradually returned to their original state, curling up like flower buds, restoring the strange calm.

But both Danzi and Longzi could hear their own hearts pounding in the silence, not daring to even breathe deeply. Only when the hands had fully withdrawn did Danzi dare exhale softly.

He whispered, “What are those things? What do we do next?”

Longzi motioned for him to keep his voice down, not to startle the corpse hands again. He didn’t have a solution either; it seemed those hands only targeted living things. Perhaps after every heavy rain, insects from the trees or ground were washed down, and the hands, having adapted, could snatch these creatures from the swift current to feed.

In other words, these hands hunted only the living. Longzi glanced at Danzi, who was gesturing anxiously, wondering what to do next. Longzi whispered softly:

“Create a diversion! Draw the corpse hands away—watch my cue, and we’ll make a break for it.” He gestured toward the left.

Danzi hesitated, then understood. He rummaged and produced a gold hairpin, then carefully pulled a length of rope from the bag. To his dismay, only about three meters were left.

Longzi untied a strip from his belt, about two or three meters, and tied one end to his talisman. Seeing Danzi ready as well, the two of them began swinging their items in their hands.

In a moment of perfect synchronicity, they both flung their ropes at once—only for the ends to tangle together after a couple of twists.

They stared in disbelief; just when it mattered most, their plan faltered. Longzi had to pull the ropes back and patiently untangle them, water dripping from his brow and splashing below. Each drop made the corpse hands beneath stir slightly. Once untangled, Longzi leaned over and Danzi took the rope from him.

Without hesitation, Longzi flung his rope toward the far left. The hands below recoiled at first, then, as if sensing food, writhed and reached out, their movement eerily like grasping hands. Danzi tossed his rope near Longzi’s, and together they gently shook the ropes.

The corpse hands gathered, soon forming a writhing mass. Noting that most of the hands nearby had moved away, Longzi signaled Danzi to get ready to leap onto the next flowerbed and continue onward.

Longzi gestured silently: three, two, one. They both jumped up and climbed over, then scrambled over several more beds in quick succession. After three or four more, they had put some distance between themselves and the threat.

Turning back, Longzi and Danzi shone their lights into the water, watching as the corpse hands continued to grope about, searching. The two men, breathless, pounded their backs, struggling to recover.

“Longzi, what the hell were those things? That was creepy as hell.”

“Probably another trap left by the tomb’s builder—some kind of man-eating plant,” Longzi replied, still drenched in cold sweat from their escape. “Whoever built this tomb was no ordinary person. To devise such a structure, fill it with deadly traps, and even breed unknown creatures—this journey is far more dangerous than I imagined. We need to get back to the boat and regroup. If fate allows, we’ll return to seek the mysterious palace another day.”

Danzi agreed. With just the two of them, getting out alive was by no means assured.

They followed the stream for a long way, doubling back and forth, until at last, Longzi and Danzi saw sunlight again after so long.

But what met them was the glow of the setting sun streaming down from above. Looking up, they saw another towering tree, just like in the underground palace before. Danzi bowed his head with a sigh.

“It’s as if fate itself won’t let us leave—wants us to stay and admire this tomb!” Danzi’s face was full of helplessness.

“We can get out,” Longzi replied.

Danzi’s eyes lit up with hope. “How? Tell me, quick!”

“Look at this tree—it’s different from the last. The trunk is still smooth, but the branches are spread out. It’s like a weeping ginkgo; those ‘willow-like’ branches are tough enough for us to climb to the top.”

“But we’ve run out of rope. How do we get up?” Danzi’s voice betrayed his exhaustion.