Chapter Seventy-Eight: Paradox

The team sat on the platform to rest for a moment. The journey so far had been fraught with peril, but nothing truly disastrous had occurred; aside from my own minor injuries, everyone else remained unharmed.

“Alright, let’s move on,” Zhang the Grim tossed her cigarette butt to the ground and stomped it out. She waved her hand and began descending, and we all followed close behind.

The path downward was not particularly smooth, yet it was obvious that the stairs were man-made, not a natural formation. The tunnel itself took the shape of a “converging cave,” and after walking a short distance, the passage suddenly narrowed, barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast. Overall, the route was fairly manageable; the distance wasn’t great, and as long as we paid attention and avoided tripping, we could pass through safely.

We descended for an indeterminate amount of time; the narrow passage continued downward. We were growing weary, but still we pressed on, step after step.

“How far have we gone down?” Lord Dragon glanced at Kaleidoscope and asked quietly.

Kaleidoscope checked a device on his wrist that looked like an electronic watch, his expression one of shock: “I reset the pedometer before we entered. We’ve already descended over seven thousand steps. Judging by the average height of each step—about forty centimeters—we’ve gone down more than two thousand meters.”

“What?” We all stared in disbelief. Two thousand eight hundred meters! Could this tomb really have been dug so deep? Impossible! A sudden thought flashed through my mind: we’d walked right into another trap.

Even Zhang the Grim, who had always forged ahead, halted when she heard how far we’d gone. She turned to Kaleidoscope, “Are you sure it’s over seven thousand steps?”

“See for yourself!” Kaleidoscope impatiently thrust the counter toward her.

Zhang the Grim looked it over; sure enough, it read over seven thousand three hundred steps. She frowned, clearly realizing she’d misjudged the tomb’s mechanisms. She glanced at Black Cloak. “What now?”

“We’ve definitely been caught in another trap. As for what to do, I honestly don’t have any particularly brilliant ideas.”

Zhang the Grim’s face darkened at this reply; she glanced at the others, but no one spoke. Seeing the silence, she lit another cigarette and drew in a long puff. “We’ll have to use the process of elimination.”

Earlier, we’d been trapped in the stone-patterned spider corridor. If it hadn’t been for Mengya suggesting the famous “enumeration method” from the “dmbj” story, we might have been stuck there for who knows how long. Of course, it’s possible Zhang the Grim was just feigning ignorance to coax Black Cloak into revealing his insights.

We sat down on the stone stairs. Mengya tore a sheet from her notebook and handed it to Zhang the Grim, who, true to form, turned to Black Cloak. “You start.”

Black Cloak looked around, clearly without any immediate ideas. He pondered for a long time, then suddenly raised his head. “Could it be like the problem we faced in the corridor? What we see as descending is just the wall’s ‘mimicry’?”

Zhang the Grim nodded, picked up a black marker, and wrote on the paper: “1. Wall mimicry.” Then she shone her powerful flashlight onto the wall, but it appeared no different from the ordinary cave walls outside. She drew her long blade and scraped it along the stone, but nothing unusual happened. She collected some chips from the wall—no special properties. It was clear: the wall was not the problem. “1. Wall mimicry” eliminated.

Zhang the Grim didn’t ask anyone else. She surveyed the surroundings, took a drag from her cigarette, and wrote another item: “2. Spatial folding.”

“Spatial folding? How is that possible?” I asked, bewildered.

Zhang the Grim didn’t refute me, just took another drag. “Wasn’t spatial folding mentioned in that popular novel? Don’t you think what we’re experiencing now feels more like something out of quantum mechanics?”

“Uh…” I wasn’t particularly learned or worldly; I was just an ordinary antiques dealer. Quantum mechanics lay far beyond my understanding, and with Zhang the Grim’s words, I was left speechless.

Zhang the Grim glanced at Kaleidoscope, who was deep in thought, seemingly troubled and lost in his own world.

Black Cloak scoffed. “Third Master, as you said, if we were really in a folded alternate space, then turning around would mean our bodies overlap within the space. But you saw, when Seventh Master and Sixth Master spoke earlier, they both turned around, and they’re still standing here as usual. Doesn’t that disprove the spatial folding theory?”

I silently admired Black Cloak’s logic. In just a few words, he’d dismantled Zhang the Grim’s “spatial folding” hypothesis. Truly formidable!

Everyone was impressed, even Zhang the Grim, who nodded in agreement and crossed out the item. “2. Spatial folding” eliminated.

Zhang the Grim looked at Kaleidoscope, who still seemed lost in contemplation, as if meditating. Among the Nine Gates, Kaleidoscope was the most resourceful and knowledgeable. Faced with such a situation, Zhang the Grim had no choice but to seek his opinion, regardless of personal feelings.

Zhang the Grim patted Kaleidoscope’s shoulder. Kaleidoscope jolted as if waking from a dream and looked at Zhang the Grim.

“Kaleidoscope, what’s your take?”

Kaleidoscope frowned and circled the cave wall, inspecting it for several minutes. He examined the scratches left by Zhang the Grim, then scoffed, took the enumeration paper, and nodded. “Third Brother, I think you’re both right and wrong.”

“What?” His words left everyone baffled.

Zhang the Grim frowned and snorted at Kaleidoscope’s air of mystery. “Spit it out already!”

Kaleidoscope chuckled and nodded. “In my view, the walls are indeed problematic, and your spatial folding theory isn’t entirely off. This place itself is a paradox.”

A paradox is a proposition or reasoning that contains two contradictory conclusions, both logically consistent. In other words, two completely opposing answers coexist within the same event.

“A paradox? Explain yourself!” Zhang the Grim demanded, brow furrowed.

Kaleidoscope smiled again. “Don’t be impatient, Third Brother. I’m getting to it.” He gestured to the cave wall and stairs. “We have been descending all this time, yet have never actually advanced.”

“What? That makes no sense to me,” Iron Crutch Liu scratched his head, utterly confused.

“Be clearer. No need for riddles,” Zhang the Grim said quietly, clearly annoyed.

Kaleidoscope’s smile remained unchanged. “It’s simple: we’re descending, but also not descending.”

Everyone was left utterly perplexed, unable to grasp Kaleidoscope’s meaning—it was as if he were speaking in riddles.

Seeing our silence, Kaleidoscope took Zhang the Grim’s paper and marker, and wrote a new item: “3. Paradox.” He smiled. “We’re in this folded space, descending without advancing, because this space only has one direction. So Third Brother’s spatial folding theory is half-right, but this place has nothing to do with quantum mechanics.”

His explanation was even more confounding. What did he mean, “only one direction”? Was this just taking advantage of our lack of higher education?

“As for the environment and walls, we’re wrapped in this cave-rock space, and nothing around us has changed. So the first hypothesis is only partially correct as well.”

I pondered in silence—paradox? Spatial folding? Plus the unchanged environment of the walls? Suddenly, a vivid image flashed through my mind, and I understood at last.