Yi Sa waited at the agreed-upon spot for Ding Yudie.
He was deeply conflicted – wanting to go look but afraid of getting involved in trouble. He sat alone by the lake, caught in indecision, occasionally skipping stones across the water, claiming he was just contemplating getting in.
Yi Sa knew exactly what was going on but deliberately didn’t point it out. More than Ding Yudie, she was concerned about Zong Hang. Ever since she had told him about the “questioning the tablets” ritual, he had worn a strange expression, his brows constantly furrowed, lost in deep thought about something.
After a while, seemingly having reached some insight, he mysteriously pulled her aside: “Yi Sa, come here for a moment.”
“We can’t talk here?”
Zong Hang pointed at Ding Yudie, indicating he didn’t want him to overhear.
This was interesting – what secret could he possibly have that he worried about Ding Yudie hearing?
Yi Sa’s curiosity was piqued, and she followed him to a spot further away.
Zong Hang picked up a small stone and wrote “Founding Master” in the dirt, followed by A, B, and C in a vertical line below it.
“The first batch of treasure vaults your family sealed must have been sealed by the Founding Master, right? He didn’t need to question the tablets because when he sealed them, he was still alive – no memorial tablet existed. Then he left behind the treasure vault manual, telling everyone where things were hidden.”
“Let’s say A was his successor water ghost. When A went to open a vault, he had to question the tablets, inviting the Founding Master’s spirit to guide the way. When A took on new assignments and needed to seal vaults, he again had to question the tablets, asking the Founding Master’s spirit to guide him to suitable hiding spots.”
Hmm, was there a problem? Yi Sa listened patiently as he continued.
“B was A’s successor water ghost. When B went to open vaults, he had to question the tablets, inviting A’s spirit to guide the way.”
“C was B’s successor water ghost. When C went to open vaults, he invited B’s spirit to guide the way…”
It was starting to sound like a tongue twister. Yi Sa’s head was getting a bit confused: “Get to the point.”
“Actually, with all this inviting of spirits, in the end only the Founding Master is playing the game!” Zong Hang tried to explain as simply as possible. “The later water ghosts, even if they opened or sealed vaults, knew nothing about where the treasures were ultimately hidden. They were just like… vessels, ‘activated’ for a period to receive instructions and carry out tasks. Essentially they were all puppets, with only the Founding Master as the player… no, three players.”
Zong Hang was getting excited. He had never realized he was this intelligent before: How had the three families never noticed such a loophole over all these years?
Yi Sa’s response doused his excitement like cold water: “Yes, we know.”
Zong Hang was stunned: “You discovered this?”
“Of course we discovered it. We’re not stupid.”
“And… you’re not suspicious?”
Yi Sa said: “Three points. First, this system has been passed down through generations, and we’ve all benefited from it, living well. Second, he’s the Founding Master – why would he harm his descendants? Third, what is there to be suspicious about? The situation is a bit strange, but it’s just ‘strange’ and nothing more.”
Zong Hang muttered: “If it were me when opening a vault, I’d arrange for one water ghost not to participate, and after everyone else went in, he could follow secretly and record the route…”
He stopped mid-sentence, remembering the three families’ rules: When opening a vault, all water ghosts must be present – one leads while others serve as water puppets. And since the depth and duration that water ghosts could dive exceeded what water octopuses and shakers could achieve, it was impossible to arrange for anyone other than water ghosts to follow and record.
Zong Hang tossed away the small stone.
His first attempt at active thinking and showing off failed.
Still, this Founding Master was quite crafty, and his rules were equally so. When doing business, Zong Bisheng had a motto for judging people and situations: “Unusual events must hide evil spirits; insincere words must conceal ghosts.”
This Founding Master gave off an indescribable feeling.
He couldn’t help but ask: “Your Founding Master, which dynasty was he from exactly?”
No matter how long ago “once upon a time” was, there must be some approximate timeframe, right?
There was one – Yi Sa thought for a moment: “The Xia Dynasty, probably.”
What?
Zong Hang had looked down on A Pa’s poor history knowledge because even though he was more of a poor student himself, he could still score seventy or eighty points in history. He remembered his teacher emphasizing that although the Chinese Dynasty Song started with “Xia, Shang, and Western Zhou, Eastern Zhou split in two,” the Xia Dynasty had almost no archaeological evidence. Moreover, there were no historical records, only brief mentions in later texts. The Bamboo Annals were from the Spring and Autumn/Warring States period, and the Records of the Grand Historian were from the Han Dynasty – separated from the actual Xia Dynasty by countless years.
To the extent that many scholars believed the Xia Dynasty never existed, that it was just a “mythical age” fabricated by later generations.
A Founding Master from the Xia Dynasty who could improvise verses like “Flying without wings, facing without face, knowing all under heaven while sitting still, disaster strikes before weapons clash” – this wasn’t just a water ghost ancestor anymore, but practically a prophet.
Ding Yudie finally made his decision.
He found sufficient justification for himself: The sunken ship and the treasure vault were connected. Rather than blindly searching underwater like a headless fly, why not take advantage of Jiang Xiaoguang’s vault-opening venture? Besides, Jiang Xiaoguang was opening a vault without authorization, breaking the rules – as a water ghost who happened upon this, how could he pretend not to see?
With legitimate grounds, his confidence grew. He came over to inform Yi Sa: “Let’s wait for now. After they open the vault tonight, we’ll find a way to watch.”
Yi Sa agreed immediately.
Ding Yudie grumbled: “This suits you perfectly, doesn’t it? Isn’t this exactly why you came? You…”
Suddenly his expression changed: “No, don’t tell me.”
He sat far away, as if afraid Yi Sa would chase after him to explain the whole story.
Zong Hang found Ding Yudie strange: “Why is he so determined not to know? Isn’t it uncomfortable keeping it all bottled up?”
Yi Sa said: “Different positions. You’re already in deep, but for someone standing on shore, who wants to get their shoes and socks wet?”
After thinking, she instructed Zong Hang: “Ding Yudie has helped me quite a bit this time. Let’s try not to drag him into this. If anything happens tonight, help cover for him if we can, don’t let him get truly involved… he doesn’t want to be anyway.”
Zong Hang nodded vigorously.
He liked hearing Yi Sa say “Let’s.”
Let’s – on the same side, he and Yi Sa were!
Ding Yudie spent some money to rent one of the most commonly covered fishing boats on the lake.
Following instructions, the boat owner brazenly drove the boat near the work vessel, cursing and casting nets to fish, deliberately attracting attention from those on board. Then he moored near the shore, set out the pole, dried the nets, and walked away humming a tune with his hands behind his back.
It gave the impression he had finished work for the day, but in reality, three people and one black ghost were already hidden in the boat’s belly.
Ding Yudie crouched under the cover, pulling back a small gap in the curtain to closely watch the activity on the ship through binoculars.
Meanwhile, Yi Sa opened the water ghost bag to show Zong Hang the tools one by one, familiarizing him with their uses. She also taught him water ghost signals. The hand gestures didn’t look difficult, but memorizing them quickly was mentally taxing. When Yi Sa tested him, he often made mistakes – though there was one signal he would surely never forget: left palm facing up, right hand’s edge like a knife, making two chopping motions across the left palm.
This meant you made a mistake or did something stupid, and the other person was angry, using the water ghost signal to scold you for being foolish, “deserving to be chopped.”
Zong Hang would panic when he made mistakes, and panicking led to more mistakes. He’d lost count of how many times Yi Sa had “chopped” him with the hand signal – at that frequency if it had been real meat, it would have been minced into dumpling filling by now.
Ding Yudie suddenly called out softly: “Ding Changsheng is here!”
Yi Sa leaned over and took the binoculars to look.
It was indeed Ding Changsheng, with a group of seven people. They arrived at the work vessel by small fishing boat. Ding Xi was also there, appearing to stand casually but with vigilant eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.
All seven went straight into the cabin after boarding and didn’t reappear.
Yi Sa did a rough count.
There were now at least twenty-some people on the work vessel.
Jiang Xiaoguang, Jiang Jun, and Yi Xiao who might or might not be there – three water ghosts, all with senior experience.
If they encountered them head-on, the situation would be far from optimistic.
Yi Sa said: “Let’s do this – vaults are usually opened near midnight, but they’ll definitely arrive early. After the anchor, we’ll go over and wait like hunters by a rabbit’s burrow.”
Sure enough, after nightfall, the work vessel headed toward the center of the lake.
The three of them entered the water about a quarter-hour later. This trip probably wouldn’t require the black ghost’s services, so they released it first – if needed, they could whistle to call it back.
They arrived at the anchored position almost silently.
The engine noise was considerable, humming steadily, making the surrounding water seem to vibrate slightly. The three began diving from the position corresponding to the ship’s bow until they touched the lake bottom’s silt. Then they each dug in, burrowed inside, and lay on their backs, leaving only their nostrils and eyes slightly exposed.
Visibility was too poor for Zong Hang to see much of anything. It felt like being covered by a blanket, but not warm – both the silt and river water were cool.
The wait was long, and he almost fell asleep, until suddenly there was light from above.
Opening his eyes to look, he saw the light was somewhat distant, appearing in bursts, exploding in clusters. Yi Sa had explained to him that this was the opening ceremony for accessing the vault – many lit firecrackers would be thrown into the water, symbolizing “evil spirits disperse.”
Though sound traveled faster in water than in air, due to the medium and the lake’s depth, it was almost inaudible. All he could see were faint, burning lights – rather like looking at stars.
Soon after, three huge black shadows plunged, grotesquely shaped. This was called “three sacrificial animals leading the way” – the previously mentioned pig head, sheep head, and ox head. To ensure they had enough weight to sink, lead blocks were stuffed in their mouths. Since they needed to lead the way, their eyes couldn’t be closed – the corners were propped open with wire, and their eyes seemed to be coated with luminescent material, glowing eerily.
The largest was the ox head, its horns particularly curved upward. It happened to sink toward Zong Hang’s direction. Though he initially worried about being hit, it turned out to be a false alarm – the ox head landed steadily not far from him. However, its pair of eyeballs stared right at him, making him feel somewhat uneasy.
Then, pinpoints of light descended.
Zong Hang watched without blinking.
This was called the Water Path Sky Ladder.
In ancient China, there wasn’t much underwater lighting technology. The three families had a method: they would take sheep bladders, clean them thoroughly, and then repeatedly rub them with nitrate and alkaline substances until they become soft, thin, and transparent. They would then place many fireflies inside, tie the opening with fine string, and use them as underwater “luminescent lamps.” Fish were naturally attracted to the phosphorescent light, making this technique extremely effective for fishing – it was also called “firefly fish gathering.”
However, due to the high pressure underwater, sheep bladders couldn’t withstand deeper depths. In those areas, they had to use night pearls – essentially, collected phosphorescent stones and luminous rocks crafted into beads. These were hung on long ropes at one-meter intervals, with lead weights at the bottom. Usually kept in light-proof leather bags, they were reserved for important ceremonies. Each rope formed one sky ladder.
Above, they were gradually releasing sky ladders. Zong Hang counted mentally – nine in total, hanging down to form a perfect circle, like enormous pillars of ethereal light erected in the lake, both eerie and extraordinarily beautiful.
Yi Sa was also watching the sky ladders.
These steps she had only heard about during water ghost training, were recited one by one. But seeing them with her own eyes was completely different, especially from this perspective looking up.
Next should be the “water ghost questioning the tablets.” Reportedly, all water ghosts had to assume a position similar to the “half-lotus pose,” with the leader going first and others following, slowly sinking to the lake bottom.
From this angle, it probably looked like deities descending, but to create an impressive display required many people. This tablet questioning would likely involve at most just Jiang Jun and Jiang Xiaoguang.
A dark shadow gradually descended.
Yi Sa’s brows slowly furrowed: only one?
She waited patiently, watching intently, her heartbeat gradually accelerating.
Indeed, there was only one.
Surprisingly, it was Jiang Jun. His appearance and physique had already been intimidating in photographs, but seeing him in person underwater, she couldn’t help but shudder: he was bare-chested, wearing only diving shorts, his body withered, making his head appear disproportionately large. Under the pearl-light of the sky ladders, his pale skin took on a ghostly green tinge. He held the Jiang ancestor tablet level with both hands, his forehead lowered to touch the upper part of the tablet.
Looking more carefully, she noticed an iron chain wrapped around his waist, like a dog leash, its end extending far away.
This was…
Yi Sa strained to look up along the chain.
There was another person, gripping the chain, keeping some distance from the circle formed by the sky ladders as if deliberately avoiding it, holding an underwater camera in their other hand.
Yi Sa suddenly understood.
That was Jiang Xiaoguang!
He wasn’t participating himself – he was using Jiang Jun to open the vault. He held the camera – was he planning to film Jiang Jun’s route after the Founding Master possessed him?
She recalled Zong Hang’s morning mumbling –
“If it were me when opening a vault, I’d arrange for one water ghost not to participate, and after everyone else went in, he could follow secretly and record the route…”
Would this work?
No, no, it seemed everyone had overlooked something…
Before she could think it through, the water suddenly turbulated, like powerful magnetic waves radiating outward in circles. Simultaneously, not far from her, Ding Yudie suddenly burst up from the silt as if forcefully pulled up, the disturbed silt rising like a black mist.
Yi Sa initially thought he couldn’t hold his breath, but looking more carefully, her mind exploded with realization.
She could see clearly – Ding Yudie was like a marionette, expressionless, his limbs rigid, like iron filings drawn to a magnet, slowly floating toward Jiang Jun within the water path sky ladders.
The scene was too terrifying. Yi Sa’s mind was pounding, and without regard for anything else, she clawed her way out of her hiding place.
But it wasn’t over. She saw the camera drop to the lake bottom as Jiang Xiaoguang, face blank, similarly drifted toward Jiang Jun, an iron chain also wrapped around his waist: clearly, he had prepared, hoping to “keep up with Jiang Jun.”
Zong Hang had also emerged, swimming clumsily to her side, looking around in confusion, somewhat at a loss. Then he suddenly grabbed her arm, his face extremely excited, pointing toward their diagonal front.
Another person was floating vertically past.
It was a woman with an ugly face and grass-like flowing hair.
Was this her sister? There wasn’t the slightest resemblance to her memories.
Yi Sa watched as she slowly floated past overhead, drifting toward Jiang Jun within the sky ladders.
So in this vault opening, many people had their schemes, but like the praying mantis hunting the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind – those who thought themselves the oriole were either cicadas or mantises, unable to escape the Founding Master’s trap.
There were only two exceptions.
Yi Sa looked at Zong Hang.
At this moment, she finally confirmed one thing.
She wasn’t a water ghost like Zong Hang, she was an accident.