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Northern School Tomb Raiders Chronicles
Chapter 32: Rhythmic Chimes

Chapter 32: Rhythmic Chimes

"Death... it's a Dead Man's Head!" I knew as soon as I felt those two hollow sockets; the sphere encased a Skull Head.

The Mole-Faced woman's complexion changed slightly, but she had a better grip on her reaction than I did.

With a forced bravado, she said, "Cloud Peak, for such a big man, and a tomb raider at that, what's there to fear from a Skull Head! If Second Brother were here, he'd dare to plant a kiss on this thing."

"Step aside! I'll handle it!" Her willow eyebrows furrowed as she took matters into her own hands.

Since I had already cracked open a large fissure in the sphere, it didn't take her much effort to break it open completely with a few strikes of a stone.

This time, my earlier guess was confirmed; indeed, a Dead Person's Skull was wrapped inside the sphere.

Parts of the skull had weathered away, but what was peculiar was the presence of a gilded layer on the Skull Head's surface. These gilded layers were scattered in a seemingly random fashion, resembling not so much text but more like pattern symbols.

In the realm of Ancient Craftsmanship, I had heard of Copper Gilding, Silver Gilding, Gold-plated Hairpins, Inlaid Gold and Silver, Gold and Silver Filaments, and the like, but this practice of applying gilding to a Dead Person's Skull was unheard of to me.

The gilded layer encircling the eye sockets of the skull shone brilliantly, a stark contrast to the pure black Skull Head, giving off an eerily stylish vibe.

A Mole frowned and said, "Years ago, when I was handling logistics for a Chengde Gang, I saw something similar. But it wasn't a skull; it was a segment of a Human Finger Bone. The gang leader told me that it dated back to the Spring and Autumn Warring States Period."

She looked up at the Trapezoidal Bronze Ware hanging from the cave ceiling and said, "Cloud Peak, you've got a good aim. At a glance, there seem to be dozens of these items. Knock one down, and let's take a closer look."

"Okay," I nodded in agreement.

The height was out of reach even with a jump, so I resorted to the old method, throwing a stone. I deliberately chose a larger one for this task.

"Clang!"

The first throw hit its mark, the stone striking the Bronze Ware and producing a long, clear echo.

Hearing this sound, I found myself agreeing with A Mole's earlier conjecture—this row of Trapezoidal Bronze Ware was very likely a set of Chime Bells.

"Put a bit more strength into it," A Mole urged, looking up.

"Clang!" The final blow was solid.

With a splash, the Chime Bell fell into the river, but A Mole was prepared. In less than a minute, she had fished it out.

Once retrieved, we examined it closely.

The Bronze Ware was narrow at the top and wide at the bottom, with some red spots and green rust. Apart from that, the waistline, mold lines, and cloud-thunder pattern were all meticulously crafted, unmistakably the work of Old Western Zhou artisans.

I weighed it in my hands, feeling it lighter than expected, lifting it with ease.

"Red Sister, try this. Doesn't the weight seem off to you?"

A Mole reached out to take it, "Eh, it's so light. This isn't made of bronze, is it?"

A Mole was older than me and had been immersed in this business for years. She had seen far more than I had. Scraping at the verdigris with her fingernail, it flaked off easily from the surface of the copper chime bell.

As the verdigris fell away, a dark grey base color was revealed underneath the trapezoidal chime bells.

Frowning at her discovery, A Mole said, “This isn’t bronze. This is something precious. If I’m not mistaken, it should be made of heavenly iron…”

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“Heavenly iron chime bells?” I exclaimed incredulously. “Red Sister, were there ironwares during the Western Zhou period? That can’t be right. Could you be mistaken?”

She shook her head. “You misunderstood. I said heavenly iron, not cast iron. Ironware appeared in the late Spring and Autumn period. To put it simply, heavenly iron is meteoric iron, coming from meteorite mines. No wonder it felt unusually heavy the moment I picked it up.”

A Mole’s assertion that the trapezoidal chime bells were made of meteoric iron wasn’t unfounded. Just a few years ago, in 1996, the Henan Province Cultural Relics Archaeological Research Institute and the Sanmenxia Cultural Relics Team conducted a salvage excavation at the Guo State Cemetery in Shangcunling, Sanmenxia City. They unearthed two rusty iron swords from the tomb of Guo Zhong. After X-ray fluorescence analysis, the archaeological team found an unknown component of high-concentration nickel on the swords. Eventually, these two swords from the Bronze Age were identified by the National Archaeological Team as meteorite swords.

“Red Sister, this item is so precious, should we take it with us?” I suggested, a hint of greed creeping into my voice upon realizing the value of the chime bells.

I mused to myself, “Rather than leaving it in this sunless underground river, wouldn't it be better if I took it out? That wouldn’t be a waste of its value, right?”

A Mole glanced at the chime bells on the ground, evidently tempted as well.

“They’re not that heavy. Let's take them with us. It's likely that no one will come down here for hundreds of years,” she said, nodding her head, signaling me to carry the chime bells.

I took off my shirt, twisted it into a makeshift rope, and, not minding the coldness of the chime bells, I strapped them to my back and tied a knot at my chest. This makeshift harness held firm; I shook myself to test it and found it secure.

“Does it bother your chest?” she asked.

“Not at all, Red Sister,” I replied, patting the chime bells on my back. “Carrying something worth hundreds of thousands, I don’t feel any pain now. It feels just right.”

A Mole chuckled. “Don’t rush. Once we get out, I’ll find some help. We’ll call Boss Lao San and take the whole set out.”

“A complete set, that’s even better,” I said, tightening the makeshift straps across my chest.

We continued along the underground river, and I occasionally looked back, feeling as if the chime bells hanging from the cave ceiling were like bundles of banknotes, swaying in the breeze and beckoning to me.

About two hundred meters from leaving that place, as I walked, I felt a sudden warmth in my nose, and unexpectedly, blood began to trickle from it.

"Wait up, Red Sister," I called out urgently, tilting my head back to signal A Mole to stop.

Even then, A Mole couldn't resist teasing me. "You young ones are so full of vigor," she said with a chuckle, "bleeding from the nose even without a shirt on. Hold on," she tore off a strip of cloth from her garment, "keep your head up and don't move; I'll wipe the blood for you."

"Red Sister, you're bleeding from the nose too!" I exclaimed as I noticed A Mole herself had suddenly started to bleed.

She abandoned wiping my nose and hastily tilted her head back, pressing the cloth against her own to stem the flow.

"Clang..."

It was then, from behind us, a deep, metallic sound struck the air, reminiscent of the sound produced by striking chime bells.

With the chime bells I'd brought down slung over my back, I craned my neck to look behind.

In that instant, a chill ran down my spine!

Bubbles continuously surfaced on the Underground River, and the copper lock chains, from which skull heads encased in mud balls dangled, began to pull taut rapidly.

Dozens of round clay balls started to sway rhythmically, striking the meteoric iron chime bells methodically.

Controlled by some underwater mechanism technique, the skull heads moved autonomously, playing a musical scale that echoed from over two millennia past.

"Clang."

"Dong!"

The resonant sound of the chime bells grew louder and seemed to penetrate deep into the soul. My scalp tightened as I listened.

Less than two hundred meters away, the sound swelled in my ears, and I began to feel my eyes bulge and my heart constrict, the veins at my temples throbbing visibly.

The nosebleed I had just experienced was now unstoppable, the blood flowing more profusely.

A Mole was in a similar state, unable to staunch her bleeding.

Her eyes were red and swollen, veins on her forehead pronounced, as she bellowed in anger, "Cloud Peak, run for it! We're going to die!"

......

Many people are unaware that chime bells do not sound on their own. They resonate when struck by a hammer, the vibrations traveling through the invisible air as a medium, eventually reaching the listener's ears. Hence, the chime bell musical scale is born.

Years later, in pursuit of understanding this phenomenon, I spent some money to pose as the leader of a Hong Kong Art Troupe. I sought out Professor Wang Dan, a former technician at the National 70 Musical Instrument Factory, who had personally overseen the complete restoration of the Zenghouyi Chime Bells Set.

So, I inquired of the elderly professor whether, under certain circumstances, it was possible for the sound of chime bells to kill a person?

Professor Wang was greatly surprised by my question. When she asked why I was asking, I claimed pure curiosity.

In the end, she told me it was possible, citing an example where someone could shatter a glass with a high-decibel sound, suggesting that chime bells might achieve a similar effect.

Looking back now.

This was a concert that claimed lives, performed by dozens of skull heads adorned with gilded runes, playing a set of meteoric iron chime bells from the Western Zhou Period.

And the host who had invited me and Red Sister to listen.

It seems, must have been the Mustard Marquis. (To be continued)

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