The Lost Tomb Vol. 7

Chapter 42: Flower Drum Opera

I had heard a lot of Flower Drum Opera in Changsha, so I was completely blindsided. After listening for several minutes, I became even more certain that it was really Flower Drum Opera.

I immediately understood. Fuck, don't tell me this is Xiao Hua? Is Xiao Hua trapped in this mass of hair?

If there was a monster here who could only sing Flower Drum Opera, then I might as well kill myself. But then, what was that thing that was knocking under the iron plate? How did Xiao Hua become like this? Was he messing around, or were these hairs growing out from him or something?

I looked between the iron plate and the mass of hair and decided to leave it alone and wait calmly. The hair seemed to have noticed and finally stopped knocking.

As soon as it quieted down, the cold and cheerless feeling of the cave seeped into my bones. It felt a bit like that moment when you walk out of a club at the height of the party. I immediately felt a little ridiculous, but I clenched my teeth and waited until the hair slowly walked to the opening of the stone chamber.

The large clump of hair stuck in the mouth of the cave gave me goosebumps, and I had to swallow down my panic. I then saw a rod sticking out of the hair wave in front of me and point to the side.

I recognized that it was the one Xiao Hua had used to reach the alcoves as he walked along the wall. I followed the direction the stick was pointing in and saw a depression on one side of the rock wall.

The depression was very large, and I noticed that there were several others about the same size beside it. As I walked past, I saw a strange mass lying inside that looked like it was made of iron. I glanced at the clump of hair and saw him wave the stick in a signal for me to hurry up.

I dug the iron out of the hollow and found that it was extremely heavy. I shook it out and discovered it was an iron garment.

All the parts were connected with iron plates like fish scales, and there was a layer of dried oil on it that could be torn off like molting athlete's foot. I ripped the layer off and found that the contents were actually well preserved.

I looked back at the clump of hair again and he waved his stick again, as if telling me to put it on.

Well, I said to myself, this just went from a horror to a comedy.

It took me a lot of time to study the iron coat, but fortunately, it wasn't particularly complicated and didn't take a lot of effort to put on. The degree of corrosion inside was much worse than the outside, leaving me with a rusty face and smelling a very strange odor. Moreover, it turned out to be totally enclosed and there weren't even any eye holes.

I was in complete darkness and didn't know what to do when I felt a pole poking at me from outside the iron coat. I held my hand up, firmly gripped it, and let him start leading me out, just like a blind man being led in one direction by a stick. We soon walked back into the tunnel and onto the hair.

The iron coat was unexpectedly heavy and I couldn't even stand up using all my strength. I understood that the slow speed was actually a necessity. Fortunately, the weight represented the thickness of the iron coat. The Chinese really did like this kind of solid feeling.

After entering the passageway and walking on the hair, the soles of my feet felt very uncomfortable. But I was wearing solid iron boots, so I had extra confidence as I placed my feet down.

We stopped and walked repeatedly, the rhythm always controlled by the stick in front of me. It took us more than half an hour before the feeling of walking on hair disappeared and we stepped on stone again. Then, I felt the rubble start to appear and we arrived back at the entrance of the hole we had made.