The mountain path was already difficult to traverse, and with over a month of rain, it had become even more treacherous. What should have been an hour-long trek turned into half a day.
Upon reaching the back of the mountain, everyone collapsed onto the ground, exhausted.
No one cared about the dirtiness of the ground at this point, as the journey had been incredibly arduous. Both the village chief and the pallbearers had stumbled and fallen more than once.
Consequently, the coffin had also suffered, falling no less than three to five times on the way. Its inlaid rivets had come loose, but thankfully, it had not been opened.
"Everyone has worked hard today. Dig the pit for a while, then bury the deceased. I'll go back and arrange for food."
After assigning tasks, the village chief left the scene, leaving only a few villagers to dig the pit.
As they dug, one villager grumbled, "What kind of business is this? First, it's continuous heavy rain, and now we're burying an unknown person. It's truly the unluckiest thing imaginable."
"Zhao the Cripple, with your cowardly nature, what would you do even if you knew who he was? Are you going to go find his descendants to demand money?"
"Exactly. You only complain after the village chief leaves. Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"..."
Zhao the Cripple felt a bit embarrassed by the others' words.
"What are you all arguing about? I say you all deserve to be poor your whole lives. There's a treasure right in front of you, and you can't even see it?"
Zhao the Cripple wasn't talking nonsense. Like the village chief Wang Fugui, he had traveled far and seen much of the world.
However, while he was an apprentice, his hands were not clean, and his leg was broken by his master. It took him over a year to recover, which is how he got the nickname Zhao the Cripple.
An older villager spat on the ground. "A treasure? What treasure could a coffin possibly hold? I think you're just desperate from poverty, born with a poor fate that no amount of struggle can change."
Facing the villagers' ostracism, Zhao the Cripple leaned against the coffin and sneered, "What do you know? This coffin was washed down from the mountain by a flood. How do you know there isn't treasure inside?"
"Zhao the Cripple, are you driven mad by poverty? How dare you have such thoughts about the dead? Aren't you afraid of retribution?"
"Exactly, you might have the money but not the life to spend it!"
Facing the accusations from the many villagers present, Zhao the Cripple's heart itched as he looked at the coffin, but he couldn't open it.
Seeing the coffin, which had fallen multiple times due to the slippery mountain path, Zhao the Cripple conceived a devious plan.
"Hey everyone, stop for a moment. Can you just listen to me for a bit?"
The villagers present knew Zhao the Cripple's intention was to open the coffin, but since they were neighbors, they didn't want to make a scene, so they stopped to see what the crippled fellow had to say.
"This coffin doesn't belong to our village; it was washed down from the mountain. We can't find any of his descendants now. Besides, it was submerged in water for who knows how long, so it must have filled with water. If we just bury it like this, he won't appreciate our efforts."
Zhao the Cripple's words made the villagers frown.
"Then what do you suggest we do?"
"The coffin lid is almost cracked open. I say we just open it. If there's no water, that's even better. If there is water, we can drain it out, so he can rest more comfortably."
Zhao the Cripple's suggestion caused the villagers to fall into silence. No one agreed, and no one objected.
The villagers living in Molu Village knew that the Qingfeng Mountain, which was eight hundred years old, contained countless ancient tombs. Although they lived off the mountain and the water, no one dared to disturb these tombs.
Because at some point, a legend spread that a tomb of a true dragon was buried on Qingfeng Mountain. Whoever found it would gain wealth that would last for three lifetimes. This had attracted many people to explore. They arrived with high spirits, but none were ever able to leave Qingfeng Mountain.
Since then, no one dared to disturb the tombs again. The elders believed that disturbing the peace of the deceased would bring misfortune, which is why they were all buried in the mountains. This was also why Wang Fugui immediately arranged for people to bury the coffin when he saw it.
However, at this moment, swayed by Zhao the Cripple, a desire to open it and see what was inside arose in everyone's hearts.
"Then let's open it and take a look. If there's water inside, we'll drain it out. But we can't touch anything inside?" Finally, the oldest uncle present nodded, and everyone else agreed to this condition, vowing that anyone who took anything from inside would have their entire family die.
Seeing that everyone present had agreed, Zhao the Cripple was the first to pick up a shovel. With the help of several others, he inserted it into the cracked part of the coffin lid and, with a heave, flipped the lid onto the ground.
When everyone present saw what was inside, they were all stunned. There was no water inside at all. Instead, a venerable old man lay there, his beard and hair completely white, his face serene, as if he were merely asleep.
However, some of those present were not surprised that the corpse had not decayed, but rather looked at the golden ingots glittering beside him.
At this moment, the atmosphere became eerie. Everyone kept swallowing, their eyes fixed on the contents of the coffin. Su Dan Novel Network
"What are you all looking at? There's no standing water inside, quickly put the lid back on and bury it."
Although the old uncle said this, no one present moved, as if they hadn't heard him.
Zhao the Cripple's eyes darted around quickly. "Old Uncle, you say we've been busy for half the day, tired and hungry. If this were a village matter, I wouldn't complain; I'd do it even if I had to dig with my head, and I wouldn't even ask for food. But what we're doing now doesn't even provide a single meal. We've worked so hard, haven't we suffered a loss?"
Zhao the Cripple's words were met with approval from the younger villagers. After all, the village had suffered a flood, and even rebuilding houses would require money.
Moreover, many had only focused on escaping, and their belongings had been washed away by the flood. Rebuilding houses was just a dream. With pockets emptier than a sieve, it was a mere fantasy.
The old uncle understood what Zhao the Cripple was implying, but he didn't directly agree. He hesitated at this moment.
The golden ingots, bathed in sunlight, emitted a dazzling glow. It would be a lie to say they weren't tempted, but taking one home felt a bit uncertain.
The elders' words about not disturbing mountain tombs and that whoever did would die had been passed down for generations.
Seeing the old uncle's hesitation, Zhao the Cripple spoke again, "What era is this? We've already opened up to the world. Those ghosts and monsters are long gone. Besides, your eldest and second sons are waiting to get married! There are plenty of things inside; one for each of us is enough."
"Old Uncle, this is feasible."
"Don't hesitate."
"Each of us taking one golden ingot will be absolutely fine."
"..."
Under the instigation of the crowd and Zhao the Cripple's fanning of the flames, the old uncle thought about his family's situation and, gritting his teeth, agreed to the matter.
Upon hearing this, everyone present cheered. Each took out a golden ingot and vowed not to speak of today's events to anyone, especially not to the village chief Wang Fugui.
"Understood."
After each person took a golden ingot, they worked with even greater vigor. In a short time, the pit was dug, and the coffin was buried.
Returning to the village chief's house, they said nothing about taking the golden ingots. Instead, they asked Wang Fugui to prepare more food and drinks, as their stomachs were empty after a long day.
That night, while everyone was fast asleep, a scream shattered the night's tranquility.
"Ah, help! Someone has hanged themselves!"