Having returned from the snowy peaks of Kunlun, I decided to change my profession and stop being a Mojin Xiaowei. I planned to go to America to do business. With the journey abroad fast approaching, Shirley Yang and I wanted to take one last good look at Beijing in the winter. We strolled over to Beihai Lake to watch the lively scene of ice skating, planning to discuss our arrangements after leaving the country. The winter wind in Beijing was biting, and the grayish sky hinted at an impending snowfall, yet none of this dampened the public's spirits; the joy of skating in a classical royal garden kept people lingering long past sunset.

I told Shirley Yang I was ready to hang up my hat for good, determined never again to place my life in peril while tomb robbing. I pulled out the Mojin Talisman given to me by Big Gold Tooth and flashed it before her eyes, showing my resolve. Without the talisman, the Old Ancestor wouldn't offer protection.

In truth, I had considered taking off the actual Mojin Talisman for good, but years of experience taught me that nothing in life is absolute. Anything could happen, so it was best to leave some room for maneuvering. The ancients often said: "It is better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it."

On the way back from Beihai, Shirley Yang’s mood brightened, but she seemed uneasy about my decision and tried to take the Mojin Talisman to keep it safe for me. I thought this was out of the question and quickly said to her with great earnestness: "I’m like a loyal general needed during troubled times, and a poor man seeking a virtuous wife! I thought meeting you would completely change my messy life situation, so why do you always distrust me? This... this doesn't conform to the objective laws of Engels’ dialectics of nature!"

Shirley Yang retorted: "Don't give me that philosophical nonsense. It’s precisely because I know you too well that I'm worried. I've noticed that nearly every word you say when you are speaking seriously is unreliable. It’s only in those casual, seemingly irreverent remarks that a shred of genuine feeling slips out. Let me see that Mojin Talisman again; I didn't get a good look to see if it was real or fake just now."

Her words gave me pause. I asked myself internally: "Am I really like that? Are my serious declarations always dismissed as nonsense? Are my jokes taken seriously? It can’t be that simple, or else people wouldn't talk about the need to seek common ground while reserving differences due to cultural gaps between China and America. There really is a difference there." A thought flashed through my mind, and I formulated an excuse to divert Shirley Yang's attention: "In the legends surrounding the Mojin Xiaowei, the techniques for reading inscriptions and handling talismans were all passed down by the Old Ancestor. Everyone in this trade relies on the Old Ancestor for their livelihood; you even have to recite several invocations for the Old Ancestor’s blessing when delving into a tomb. But speaking of it, who exactly is the Old Ancestor of the Mojin Xiaowei, the foremost of the seventy-two trades? All these details are quite unclear now."

Shirley Yang replied: "What’s unclear about that? The seventy-two trades—antiques come first. Tomb robbing belongs to the Wai Ba Hang (Outer Eight Trades) and forms its own distinct system within traditional Chinese culture, possessing complete, inherited trade rules. There are seventy-two such trades in total. For example, the ancestor worshipped by opera performers is Emperor Ming of Tang; pig butchers pay homage to Zhang Yide; those who sew and make clothes worship Xuanyuan; carpenters bow to Lu Ban; and thieves worship Dongfang Shuo. These seventy-two trades are further divided into nine classes and thirteen ranks. Among the Wai Ba Hang, Mojin reigns supreme, making the Mojin Xiaowei the king among kings within these traditional seventy-two trades. However, when it comes to the ancestor of tomb robbing, there are said to be three."

I had merely asked casually in the heat of conversation, never expecting to uncover so many obscure details I’d never heard of. I then asked Shirley Yang to elaborate on the origins of these traditions, just in case someone asked me in the future, so I wouldn't be laughed at for having been a Mojin Xiaowei for so long without knowing my own lineage.

Shirley Yang’s knowledge of these traditional tomb robbing customs came from the diaries left behind by her maternal grandfather, Partridge Whistle. She explained that the ancestor worshipped in any of the seventy-two trades wasn't necessarily the very first person to practice that trade, but rather figures who left a significant mark in official history, occupying a place among the prominent figures of their time.

Even before the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, tomb robbing existed. The most influential incident, arguably, was Wu Zixu excavating the tomb of the King of Chu to whip the corpse for revenge. Wu Zixu plundered the tomb not for the burial artifacts, but for vengeance; he acted "with a purpose other than seeking wealth." Thus, later generations of the Banshan Dao Ren (Mountain Movers), who also pursued their goals without monetary gain, have always revered Wu Zixu as their ancestor.

During the struggle between Xiang Yu and Liu Bang at the end of the Qin Dynasty, Xiang Yu razed the Mausoleum of Qin Shi Huang and burned the Epang Palace, seizing countless treasures. Since both Xiang Yu and Liu Bang were part of the rebel forces against the Qin, later members of the Xieling (Relying on Strength faction) took the concept of "Righteousness" (Yi) as their banner for gathering and dividing spoils, revering the Hegemon-King of Western Chu as their ancestor. Furthermore, the Hegemon-King’s immense strength—"His might shakes the mountains"—served as the aspiration and ideal for the Xieling strongmen who excavated tombs using sheer physical force.

Tomb raiding became quite frequent during the Han Dynasty, and the designation Mojin Xiaowei formally appeared in the late Han and Three Kingdoms period. It had actually taken shape during the Western Han but hadn't yet solidified its power. Later, during the Three Kingdoms period, Cao Cao, using the excuse of needing military funds to pacify the chaotic world and bring peace back to the people, recruited many skilled tomb robbers and established them as a formal military unit with official titles. This is how the term Mojin Xiaowei came about, continuing to this day. As the ancients said: "If the name is not proper, the words will not flow smoothly." Only once a trade had an ancestral figure could it establish its own lineage for later generations. However, the specific rules, techniques, and the underlying framework of elemental dynamics for the Mojin Xiaowei were only fully developed in the Tang Dynasty. Later, they absorbed the essence of Jiangxi's Xingshi Zong (Form School) geomancy theory, developing unique Mojin Xiaowei secrets like the "Dragon Seeking Formula" and "Dividing Gold and Setting the Lair."

During the fragmentation of the Three Kingdoms, the Cao Wei faction was not the only one to employ tomb-raiding units. Sun Wu also dug into the tomb of King Ying Qi of Nanyue in Lingnan to supplement military expenses. However, Sun Quan’s raiding unit encountered a catastrophic accident while excavating the Yue King's tomb; the entire force was wiped out, and no one survived. This incident was passed down by word of mouth among tomb-robbing artisans, but it remains completely unrecorded in official histories. Unofficial records, conversely, claim complete success and quiet retirement—who knows the truth of either account.

These unofficial tales even mention that Cao Cao’s own tomb was designed by a Mojin Xiaowei, making it nearly impossible for later generations to discover. The purpose of a burial is concealment—to keep the occupant from being seen by others. Some ancient tombs truly possess unparalleled geographical advantages. Without knowing the underlying truths and employing extremely specialized methods, they have almost no chance of being found.

I suddenly understood: "So that’s the story behind the lineage of the tomb-robbing ancestors. Although these three ancestors lived in different eras, they share a very similar commonality. Cao Cao was both a poet and a soldier; Wu Zixu served as a general when attacking Chu; and Xiang Yu was the supreme commander of the Chu armies. You could say they all came from military backgrounds, seasoned in warfare, possessing deep military experience. This can hardly be mere coincidence. Their willingness to lead the way in tomb robbing likely stems from the strong vital energy (Gang Qi) inherent in battle-hardened veterans, making them less superstitious. If they hadn't had military training, where would they have found such courage and insight?"

I said to Shirley Yang: "Hearing for the first time that the Mountain Movers and Reliance-on-Strength factions worship Wu Zixu and the Hegemon-King of Western Chu is quite an eye-opener. I finally feel a sense of clarity. As for the Mojin Xiaowei's ancestor being Cao Cao, that’s not surprising; I’ve known that for ages. But my grandfather told me that might not be the whole truth. Is there a hidden layer to this?"

Shirley Yang replied: "The Mojin paying homage to Cao Cao began in the late Han, but in reality, the rule that Mojin Xiaowei adhere to—'No looting when the rooster crows or the lamp goes out' (Ji Ming Deng Mie Bu Mo Jin)—existed as early as the Western Zhou Dynasty. At that time, a slave buried alive as a human sacrifice in King You’s tomb actually survived. He managed to take the cinnabar and esoteric texts from the tomb and passed them down. All the Mojin Xiaowei's methods for navigating the Eight Gates came from this source. Logically, the true ancestor should be this extraordinary person who emerged alive from the tomb. Unfortunately, his name and ultimate fate have been lost to history, making him untraceable."

I took the opportunity to steer the conversation further afield: "It seems there truly were divine talismans, potent elixirs, and secret manuals of yin and yang in the ancient mausoleums. But these things might not always work; otherwise, the tomb occupant wouldn't have ended up in a coffin. Back then, many people died prematurely because they sought immortality through ingestion, often poisoned by the very elixirs they took..."

As we spoke, we unknowingly approached the hutong where I lived. To my surprise, after all this talking, Shirley Yang’s focus remained entirely undistracted, and she asked for the Mojin Talisman again. Just as I was racking my brains for an escape, a timely savior appeared in the hutong.

At the entrance of the hutong, there was a public phone booth, and a woman named Aunt Liu managed it. Her job was to answer calls first, find out who the caller wanted, and then call that person from inside the hutong. She charged two cents per call. Coincidentally, someone was calling for Fatty. Aunt Liu went into the courtyard to fetch him. Fatty shuffled out, draped in a coat, saw me and Shirley Yang walking in from the street, waved a greeting, picked up the phone, and began speaking loudly and carelessly: "Hello, hello... I am the boss of Global Tomb Robbing Co., Ltd., Wang... What? You haven't heard of us? If you haven't heard of us, why are you calling me? Hey, I have a short fuse! Are you deliberately trying to pick a fight? Where are you from? Hurry up and roll over here so Uncle Fatty can squeeze you to death..."

I seized the opportunity to whisper to Shirley Yang: "Look at Fatty. After coming back from Kunlun Mountain, he was profound for barely a few days before forgetting who he is again. He doesn't even post a guard for his mouth! Talking about tomb raiding openly in public. As the saying goes, illness enters through the mouth, and disaster issues from the mouth. If he keeps stirring things up like this, he’ll cause trouble sooner or later."

Actually, I couldn’t care less what Fatty was saying; I just used it as an excuse to put the Mojin Talisman issue aside. While speaking, Shirley Yang and I walked back to the room. Soon after, Fatty finished his call and excitedly told me: "Someone called saying they want to treat us to a meal! We have another dinner engagement tonight! If I’d known, I would have skipped lunch. We must manage all our ventures frugally!" I asked Fatty who called. Fatty said he was too preoccupied to ask, only inquiring about the location. It sounded like a pretty remote place, supposedly featuring local specialties. But based on the accent on the phone, it sounded like that old rascal, Uncle Ming.

Shirley Yang interjected: "That won't work. Professor Chen is back in Beijing from America after recovering, and he has arranged a family dinner tonight. He specifically wants the few of us who went to Xinjiang to gather. I already accepted his invitation; we all have to go to Professor Chen’s place tonight. It’s getting late; let’s change our clothes and go."

Seeing that was the case, there was no other option; we couldn't refuse Professor Chen’s invitation. I thought to myself: back when I was struggling to get by in Beijing, even a bowl of luzhu huoshao was considered an upgrade in life. Why did no one invite us to dinner then? There seem to be many deep reasons behind all this. I decided not to overthink it, put that vague, unanswered phone call out of my mind, quickly freshened up, and followed the others to Professor Chen’s residence.

Big Gold Tooth was also invited, as he and Professor Chen were old acquaintances. Furthermore, he was the one who introduced me and Fatty to the desert expedition team. Since this gathering had no outsiders, formalities were unnecessary. We all sat down according to our host's arrangements. During the meal, we discussed our time apart and our current situations, leading to many emotional reflections.

Although Professor Chen narrowly escaped death in the desert, he lost many companions in the ancient city of Jingjue—all close kin and dear friends. This trauma caused a nervous breakdown. After treatment in the United States, he had mostly recovered. He missed his homeland and refused to stay abroad. Less than a month after his recovery, he eagerly returned to China.

After a few drinks, Professor Chen became slightly emotional recalling his assistants and students buried in the sands, his hand trembling as he held his chopsticks and cup. We worried about a relapse and urged him to drink less. The deceased are gone, and the past cannot be changed. Those still living need to look forward and not dwell constantly in the shadow of what happened.

Professor Chen sighed again: "Though the past is past, if one doesn't cherish history, if one lacks memories, then living is no different from being a walking corpse. It’s like how every nation has its own history; those relics and historical sites are the memory of a country and a people. Through them, we understand where our roots lie, where our bloodline originates, and thus gain our spirit, energy, and essence. At my age, anything I want to do is beyond my strength. When I think of these matters, I feel the weight of history on my shoulders is not light..."

Professor Chen’s words stirred me. The more I listened, the more something felt off. This certainly wasn't casual talk; I wondered what he truly intended to say. It sounded like his final point would be to entrust us with a task. I had no intention of getting involved with ancient artifacts again. I only intended to find a subtle way to decline while listening to what Professor Chen had to say. So, I addressed him: "Professor, please don't take this the wrong way, but although we may not be highly educated, we understand these grand principles to some extent. If a person doesn't respect history, doesn't revere history, then life will lack guidance, progress will have no direction, and even eating won't taste good. We all understand this deeply; it's dissolved in our blood, carved into our bones, and ultimately translated into action. However, these principles are too profound to be fully articulated in a short while. You’ve just recovered from illness, so don't overexert yourself. I suggest you save these topics for future lectures or reports. If you truly need to speak now, could you skip straight to the content after these grand principles? You're not planning to organize another expedition team with us to survey some lost ancient civilization, are you?"