Chapter 17 The Nineteen Spices of Xiangxi

Since Er Yuehong’s family was established, there were a total of 1,027 thimbles, each with its own carving. The base of this thousand-grid box had a soft varnish, and those in the family who had completed their apprenticeship would receive a thimble and press the side of the pattern deep into the varnish, leaving a mark. After death, the thimble would be returned to the box and placed in the spot that had been previously marked.

They had this rule because they were worried that any missing thimbles would be used by outsiders to pretend to be part of the Hong family, which would have serious implications.

Even so, there were many people outside carving fake thimbles to cause trouble, but these incidents had decreased in recent years due to Zhang Qishan presiding over the Nine Gates. Now that this particular thimble was matched with the pattern in the box, it was clear to see that it was really a relic of the Hong family.

The Hong family had a unique set of skills passed down through the generations, so there had been few violent deaths in recent years. The few empty grids in the box belonged to the only people who didn’t return when they went underground several decades ago. The whereabouts of these people were still unknown, but this thimble’s sudden reappearance indicated that they must have died in the tomb at that time.

They had gone to look for ancient tombs deep in the mountains, and he remembered that they had entered the mountains from Dalongling, an old forest near Xiangxi. There weren’t any railways or roads from Changsha, and it would take two weeks by mule to reach the mouth of the valley.

Dalongling stretched on for more than a hundred kilometers, and there were vast mountains behind it on the border of Hunan and Hubei, which also had deep mountains and old forests. After this incident, Er Yuehong’s father tried to rescue them many times, but the ancient tomb was extremely dangerous, and he had no choice but to quit after several attempts. He didn’t know what his father had experienced there, but when he came out, he actually burned all the data on this ancient tomb and ordered the descendants of the Hong family not to get involved again. Now that so many years had passed, the vegetation had regrown and the mountains had changed. Even if someone led the way, they wouldn’t be able to find the specific location overnight.

Er Yuehong’s own thimble had a daffodil on it, and had been placed inside the box as a symbol of his determination not to go down into the tombs again. He touched it, stirring up the dust with his fingers before turning to light a shadow lamp. The lamp was made from the skin of a small otter, and when he hung it up on the top beam, the shadow mackerels rotated and lit up the corner of the room where a three-dimensional model had been built with rice stalks. It was an internal model of an ancient tomb.

He took a deep breath and silently looked at the three-dimensional model. Every time his father came back from Dalongling, he would build a model with rice stalks in this secret room, as if he was trying to reconstruct the ancient tomb. It showed that his father had a strong desire to conquer the ancient tomb at that time, but he ended up burning all the data after coming back the last time. According to the old man who went with him at that time, his father went deep into the depths of the ancient tomb alone and must have seen something.

Er Yuehong almost stayed in the secret room until the second watch (1), mind full of thoughts of the past. When he returned to the courtyard, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of regret upon seeing that the light in the bedroom was still on. He hastily composed himself and entered the room, finding his wife sitting up in bed, reading Su Manshu’s “The Lone Swan” (2). She was so engrossed that she almost didn’t hear him come in.

This petite girl—nicknamed Ya Tou—may be the most envied and hated girl in Changsha. Even her health was weak all year round.

Ya Tou was startled when Er Yuehong quietly lay down, and she quickly put the book down, blew out the light, and snuggled up to him.

“Is the Mandarin duck and butterfly (3) book good?” Er Yuehong asked softly in her ear. Ya Tou shook her head and closed her eyes.

As the moonlight streamed in from outside, Er Yuehong lay there with his eyes open, listening to Ya Tou’s quiet breathing. The curtains seemed to shimmer strangely in the moonlight, appearing slightly fractured. He raised his hand to try and pull the curtains close, and suddenly found that he had a thimble on his finger.

He froze for a moment before realizing that when he had been in a daze earlier, he had unwittingly put his thimble back on his finger out of habit.

*

In another part of Changsha, Zhang Qishan was back in his office, surrounded by various maps of Hunan. He was looking at more than a dozen pieces of oracle bone, and would pick one up from time to time to smell it. These oracle bone fragments had been found in the Japanese corpses’ stomachs, and they were all as big as fingernails.

After the fright from earlier—coupled with the fact that it was already midnight— Qi Tiezui was so sleepy that he made himself a pot of strong tea, but ended up pouring it on the carpet. Once he saw that Lieutenant wasn’t paying attention, he immediately moved the nearby coffee table over to hide it. On one side, a staff officer named Lieutenant Shi was holding the translated materials, waiting nervously for Zhang Qishan to summon him. Qi Tiezui called him over and looked at the documents in his hand.

Most of the documents seized from the train were related to the places these coffins had been unearthed from and the first preliminary identification. The materials were very detailed, and almost every coffin could be traced back to the place where it had been found and the time it had been unearthed.

“Fortune teller, fortune teller.” When Zhang Qishan suddenly called him, Qi Tiezui quickly ran over. As he approached the edge of the desk, he couldn’t help yawning and Zhang Qishan put one of the oracle bone pieces in his mouth.

Qi Tiezui was startled and quickly spit it out. He pointed at Zhang Qishan, too disgusted to speak.

“What’s your emperor’s tongue taste?” Zhang Qishan asked.

Qi Tiezui spit wildly, blinked, and then said, “Nineteen dried spices, and distilled mint oil. Did this seasoning come from that Xiangxi cave?” As he spoke, his face turned purple and he had the urge to vomit.

“The dragon bones were buried with them. The bones must have been boiled in traditional Chinese medicine and used to prevent the diseased corpses from infecting those burying the bodies. After these Japanese got sick, they also hoped that the medicine in the dragon bones could cure them. But what idiot put in mint oil and nineteen spices when concocting the medicine? It must have been a deliberate act by your family’s expert to tell us where the train came from.” Zhang Qishan said coldly. “This expert tricked the Japanese and managed to lead them around in circles. He’s just like you, pretending to be a pig to eat the tiger.”

Qi Tiezui continued pointing at Zhang Qishan as he looked around the room for some tea to rinse his mouth out and boldly shouted: “Who’s pretending to be a pig?!”

When Lieutenant Shi got a whiff of Qi Tiezui’s spit, his face turned purple. Zhang Qishan walked up to the big map and looked north of Xiangxi: “The train came from this direction. The railway to Hubei has been blown up, so the train must have come from this mountainous area. There could be hidden railroad tracks there related to the mines. The whole area is full of mines, but only the Tujia people in a few areas use the nineteen spices. Here, here, and here.” Zhang Qishan pointed to several places. “The train must have come from one of these places. Find detailed maps of them. We’ll search them inch by inch and leave tomorrow.”

Qi Tiezui looked at Zhang Qishan as he gargled tea and shook his head: “Fo Ye, I’m traumatized. I won’t go.”

Zhang Qishan didn’t look back as he quietly said, “Changsha’s defense is the key. Your family’s expert reported to you so that you would inform me. He even lost his life. It’s possible there’s still a lot of information about the Qi family on the road. You need to go even if you’ll die a hundred times.”

<Chapter 16> <Table of Contents><Chapter 18>

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TN Notes:

(1) Old-timey way of saying 21:00-23:00

(2) Published in 1912. Autobiographical novel tells the story of Saburo, a young man who is unsure of whether he want to be a Buddhist monk or get married. Full summary here

(3) “Mandarin ducks and butterfly” (i.e. love birds) is a derogatory reference to populist and romantic writing around 1900.

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ﾍ(･_| Uhhh, let’s pretend yesterday was my doctor’s appointment lol. I love how Ba Ye tried to hide the spilled tea from Lieutenant Zhang. He wasn’t even worried about Fo Ye’s reaction (but Fo Ye got his revenge) hehehe