Chapter 143: Mysterious Journey (Departure)

The airplane landed on the gray runway, and the vibration from the friction with the ground almost made me throw up, but I managed to endure it.

As soon as I got off the plane, I saw many people holding up huge signs with someone's name on them and shouting at the top of their lungs!

Only then did I realize that I had been on the same flight as a major celebrity. No wonder so many people were waiting here—they were all his fans.

However, I was no fan of his. I hurried to take a shortcut out of the airport, took out the mobile phone Uncle Ma had given me before I left, and dialed his number!

"Hello, Xiaodong, have you reached the destination?" Once the call connected, Uncle Ma's voice came through the receiver, his very first question being whether I had arrived safely.

I told him I had, and Uncle Ma instructed me to go to a specific location he described. Although I had no idea where he was talking about, I followed his directions and set off to find it.

Egyptian cities resemble their symbolic pyramids; almost everything I laid eyes on seemed cast in a faint, golden hue, much like the color of those very pyramids.

I searched for the better part of the morning before finally locating the place Uncle Ma had mentioned. It appeared to be a civilian antique shop, run by a dark-skinned middle-aged man roughly around Uncle Ma's age.

Uncle Ma had told me this man's name was Ismail, that he was very easy to get along with, being both his college classmate and a very close buddy of his!

Uncle Ma had also said, "Though Ismail appears on the surface to be a mere dealer of antiques, he is actually a guide at heart. He can lead people to places ordinary folks can never reach, and he will be one of the key guides for this expedition!"

Of all the things Uncle Ma had told me beforehand, my favorite was the fact that Ismail had a fondness for Chinese names.

Uncle Ma mentioned that Ismail had even thought up a Chinese name for himself: "Yimadan." Back in Uncle Ma's student days, everyone liked to call him "Old Yi" or "Badan" (which sounded similar to a Chinese slang term for an egg)!

"Uncle Yi, I am Hu Xiaodong, a student of Professor Ma Tao. I arrived two days early, so I was hoping I could trouble you for a place to stay for a couple of nights!"

Stepping into the rather modest antique shop, I spoke to Old Yi in English, fearing he might not understand Chinese. After speaking, I extended my right hand as a gesture of friendship!

"Oh, you are Ma Tao's student! Then you must be Hu Xiaodong. Old Ma called me yesterday to say you'd be coming. Come, please take a seat!"

I hadn't expected Old Yi's Chinese to be so fluent, sounding just like a native speaker. After speaking, he also extended his hand to shake mine, patting my shoulder with his left hand and smiling.

There were very few people in the antique shop, and the interior furnishings looked rather antiquated, though to an archaeologist, these items might well be priceless treasures.

Ismail told me to look around the hundred-square-meter antique shop as I pleased, but strictly forbade me from touching anything. With that warning, he went to the back room to pour water and brew tea.

It seemed this Egyptian fellow was immensely fond of Chinese culture, being so familiar even with the tea ceremonies of ancient China.

Suddenly, my eyes caught a mural. Just as I was gazing at it with rapt attention, Ismail suddenly asked from behind me, "Tea is ready!"

I gave a sharp start, turned around, and smiled at Ismail. To be honest, I wasn't all that thrilled.

After all, I had just been utterly captivated by that mural, and being abruptly interrupted naturally left me feeling somewhat resentful. Still, this was someone else's home, and no matter how reluctant I felt, I couldn't throw a tantrum.

Ismail seemed to notice the lingering reluctance in my heart, so he smiled at me and said, "Xiaodong, what you are looking at is merely a replica. The real mural is inside Tutankhamun's pyramid, and the very place we are going to investigate is none other than Tutankhamun's pyramid!"

To be frank, I was somewhat familiar with Tutankhamun; he was the youngest of the pharaohs. But after all, I was merely an archaeologist lacking practical field experience, and my knowledge was limited to what was written in books.

Anyway, I knew there were several legends surrounding Tutankhamun, yet what fascinated me most was the curse of Tutankhamun—that death curse which had chilled the hearts of tens of millions.

Originally, people discovered several inscriptions of Tutankhamun's curses in his tomb, one of which read: "Death shall spread its wings over whoever disturbs the pharaoh's sleep."

Another stated: "Any who enter this tomb with impure intentions, I shall throttle their necks as one would choke a bird."

The moment the burial chamber door of this youngest pharaoh was opened, mystery followed in its wake. First, Carter's beloved canary was swallowed by a cobra.

Shortly after, Lord Carnarvon died of an unknown disease transmitted by a mosquito bite, and the spot where he was bitten corresponded precisely to the scar on Tutankhamun's face.

Furthermore, in September of year X, Hawass, the Secretary General of the Supreme Council of Antiquities in Egypt, experienced a series of bizarre occurrences while performing a CT scan on the mummy inside Tutankhamun's tomb.

According to the Egyptian newspaper *Al-Messa*, the Valley of the Kings was swept by howling gales at that exact moment, and some advanced world-class instruments recently purchased from the United States inexplicably malfunctioned for an hour and a half.

The report stated that Hawass did not believe in the "pharaoh's curse" and even comforted his staff by saying, "Do not be afraid, it cannot be the pharaoh's curse."

Just then, Hawass's cell phone suddenly rang. It was his sister calling from the other end of the line, sobbing as she said, "Brother, my husband has suddenly passed away!"

When I first came across this information, I truly harbored a dream: to figure out just how mysterious these unknown phenomena really were, and whether they were truly as untraceable as rumors claimed.

Now I had arrived. To unravel this mystery, I had specifically asked Old Yi for the location of Tutankhamun's curse inscriptions, hoping to closely contemplate the death curse of this unknown pharaoh when the time came.

Over the two days we spent together, I found Old Yi to be a genuinely good person—always amiable. If you got angry, he wouldn't; even if you provoked him, he would merely smile and say, "You get angry, but I won't; if anger makes you sick, no one can take your place. Face the world with a smile and leave no regrets in life—isn't that a joy!"

Whenever Old Yi finished saying "what a joy," he would heap praise upon Chinese culture, declaring that the Chinese word *kuai zai* (what a joy) was superior to all English words expressing happiness, and far easier to understand.

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, two days had passed. Uncle Ma called to say the team had boarded their plane and was expected to arrive by evening, while I had been running around with Ismail, tracking down dozens of renowned local guides.

To be honest, I truly didn't understand at the time—wasn't we just looking for a pyramid? Did we really need to hire so many guides?

Later on, I came to understand Old Yi's intentions. As it turned out, we were not merely searching for Tutankhamun's pyramid; what we were looking for was a secret entrance to the pyramid known only to these ten individuals. As for where this entrance led, even I had no idea at that moment!

(The mysterious journey begins, everyone stay tuned!)