Seeing the change in Uncle Ming's expression, I observed him closely and realized he wasn't faking it. So, I lit a cigarette for him, told him not to worry, and asked him to recount the events in the South China Sea in detail. Just then, Da Jinya prepared a bowl of noodle soup for Uncle Ming, and as soon as it was ready, he brought it over. Fatty and I, standing quite a distance away, could smell the fragrance. Although we knew Da Jinya was not only skilled but also a connoisseur of fine food, we never expected a simple bowl of boiled noodles could look so enticing.

All I had left in the house were two raw eggs and a few withered scallions. It was late, and I couldn't buy anything from the street. Da Jinya had to borrow some dry noodles from our neighbor, Old Aunt Liu, just to quickly cook this bowl of egg noodle soup for Uncle Ming. Da Jinya said, "Gentlemen, we are all men of stature. Even if it's a simple meal, we can't be sloppy with home cooking, especially for someone like Uncle Ming who moves in high circles; we absolutely cannot neglect him."

Uncle Ming had been hungry for most of the night. Seeing the food served, he couldn't even speak. I figured there was nothing to do but wait until he finished eating to discuss matters. Da Jinya first presented Uncle Ming with a steaming bowl of noodle soup, topped with a thin layer of minced scallions and two egg yolks nestled on the noodles. Da Jinya told Uncle Ming, "This noodle soup has an elegant name. Since the egg yolks are yellow and the minced scallions are green, it's called 'Two Orioles Chirp Amidst the Green Willows.' What lies beneath the noodles is even more remarkable: if you take a bite of the noodle without chewing, it's like 'Silver Whiskers Hanging Upside Down'; if you chew it, it resembles the 'Milky Way Falling from the Ninth Heaven.' Don't be fooled by the simple ingredients—the yolk is slightly scattered, and the scallions aren't the freshest—but the artistic conception is what matters. Since ancient times, countless literati and scholars have frequented grand restaurants not to order anything else, but solely for noodle soup, and it's all for those two egg yolks. What are they seeking? Aren't they just indulging in a bit of affected refinement?"

Fatty and I just stared at each other. Da Jinya truly lived up to his reputation as a glib rogue; he could turn scrap metal into jade-inlaid treasures just by talking. Fatty said to the group, "I say, when we get to America, why bother dealing in Mingqi anymore? With Old Jin's skills alone, if we open a restaurant, we’d rake in fortunes. Before you know it, even the President of the United States would be trotting down to Chinatown just for your two egg yolks. Forget the President; even my own greedy appetite has been piqued. Is there any more broth left in the pot for Fatty?"

There were no more noodles, only half a pot of clear broth left. Da Jinya served three more bowls, and the four of us slurped them down noisily. Uncle Ming nearly licked the bottom of his bowl clean. After finishing, Uncle Ming suddenly said, "Jinya’s noodle soup is excellent! The aftertaste lingers, leaving me wanting more... But seeing these two round eggs reminds me of that bead we searched for on the Kunlun Mountains. What was it called again?"

I thought to myself, the Muchen Pearl—that was ancient history; what was the point of bringing it up? Could it be related to the Coral Spiral sea affair? I said to Uncle Ming, "Are you referring to the Muchen Pearl? In the interior, it was called the Phoenix Gallbladder, a closely guarded royal secret. Even in the I Ching, such a comprehensive ancient classic, the word 'Phoenix' isn't mentioned once. I suspect it's not because the word hadn't been invented when the I Ching was written, but because all secrets concerning the Phoenix Gallbladder were only accessible to the ruling class. Truthfully, that pearl couldn't grant eternal life; it was a misunderstanding of the ancients."

Uncle Ming said, "Yes, yes, that bead. There are actually many beads like that in the South China Sea. When I was young, I first followed an uncle on his shipping route. Nanyang was at war then, and business was incredibly difficult. One year, we were transporting salt and rice, and unexpectedly, we encountered a Tunchou Zhi Yu (Ship-Swallowing Fish) at sea."

Fatty and I, having lived in Fujian during our youth, had also heard fishermen speak of gigantic fish in the far ocean, but we never knew the specifics. So we asked Uncle Ming to elaborate. Upon inquiry, we learned that "Ship-Swallowing Fish" didn't refer to a specific species. Any sailor who encountered a deep-sea leviathan capable of capsizing a vessel would call it a Tunchou simply because they didn't know its name. People who had survived maritime disasters also used this term to describe their ordeal, embodying the saying, "Where there are roads, there are tigers blocking the way; where there is water, there are ship-swallowing fish."

But Uncle Ming truly ran into a behemoth that time. How large this fish was defies description; it couldn't be measured in the common units of weight or length. Such giant fish only existed in the deep outer oceans. South of Xin'an, it was all open sea. Once past the Fotangmen in Hong Kong, the waters became the turbulent, deep ocean. Uncle Ming and his uncle were smuggling; besides salt, their cargo hold was packed with many black market goods. That time, their ship ran into trouble just as it cleared the Fotangmen sea area.

That night, the moon was as bright as a mirror, and the sea stretched endlessly in every direction. Furthermore, the wind was still and the tide calm, allowing the ship to move smoothly. Suddenly, the crew noticed a huge swell rising from the sea. An experienced old sailor said it wasn't a wave, but a yong (surge); waves are formed after the wind rises, but a surge rises without wind, formed by the agitation of the water itself.

As the surges grew more frequent, a mountain appeared in the sea, looming faintly ahead. The crew thought it was a miraculous phenomenon of tidal surge or rogue waves and gathered at the railing, watching curiously. The sailors had traversed this area many times before and had never seen a solitary rock formation rise from the sea. How could there be an isolated rocky island in the deep ocean?

As everyone was muttering and speculating nervously, they suddenly noticed the moonlit surface change again. In a short while, several massive rocks surfaced from the seabed. Uncle Ming’s uncle quickly realized something was terribly wrong—it wasn't a surge, but a school of giant fish! The night was clear and the wind calm, indicating the deep-sea fish were swimming near the surface. What they saw weren't islands or rocks, but the fins and backs of the massive fish. He immediately ordered everyone to remain silent and quietly steer the ship away; otherwise, startling the school of fish and causing them to burst forth would sink their vessel with the ensuing waves.

But before the captain's order could be relayed, the sea began to churn. The school of fish on the surface turned toward their boat. In such a situation, the only recourse was to quickly turn the rudder and flee, but the ship wasn't fast enough, nearly capsizing several times from the giant waves. To save their lives, the captain ordered everything throwable on board to be jettisoned to lighten the ship and increase speed.

Finally, after throwing off all the cargo and even tossing over a dozen living crew members into the sea, the ship managed to escape death and limp back to Fotangmen. All the cargo was lost. Uncle Ming and his uncle lost their entire fortune. They were almost driven to jump into the sea by their creditors. To recoup their losses quickly, they had no choice but to take a desperate risk: diving into the eye of the Coral Spiral to harvest pearls.

The Coral Spiral was a vast underwater coral forest, rumored to contain a bottomless abyss—the sea eye—where the surrounding waters connected to the deep ocean. The area was characterized by high winds and rough seas, making it perilous, and it was also known as a graveyard for sunken ships. The coral forest contained many giant clams that produced luminous pearls. Every full moon, hundreds of ancient clams in the depths would open their shells to absorb the essence of the moonlight. Some pearls had been growing for thousands of years, singularly favored by the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. At that time, aided by the underworld's fire, the entire sea surface would be illuminated by the moonlight pearls.

Because the Coral Spiral was close to the deep ocean, many monstrous water creatures were attracted to the luminous pearls and lingered there. To protect themselves, the giant clams rarely opened their shells completely. Therefore, the spectacle of the seabed illuminated by the moon and pearls occurred only for a few fleeting moments throughout the year, always on nights when the moon was nearly full or nearing an eclipse.

For fishermen, harvesting pearls in the Coral Spiral was a path to sudden wealth, but the danger factor was immense. No one would willingly take that risk unless they were absolutely desperate. Moreover, even those who went to the Coral Spiral to gather clams stuck to the outer areas; no one dared approach the sea eye. Firstly, ancient legends claimed it was haunted by water ghosts dragging people down to drown. Secondly, it was densely packed with hidden reefs; any vessel entering would strike them and risk becoming another underwater exhibit in the Coral Spiral's graveyard of sunken ships. There were many other mysterious reasons, baffling and complex, that had remained unresolved for millennia.

Pearl divers and tomb robbers were similar in that they were both skilled laborers among the seventy-two traditional professions. However, at sea, one must never utter words related to "digging" or "tomb." They also never directly called the luminous pearls "pearls" (zhu); instead, they called them "eggs" (dan). This was because, passed down through generations, it was believed that the spirits of those who died at sea, either from pearl diving or shipwrecks, were drawn by the essence of the luminous pearls. Upon hearing a living person utter the word zhu, these spirits would seek to claim a life from the seabed.

Historically, those who harvested pearls in the Coral Spiral called themselves "Egg People," and their work was called "egg harvesting" (caidan). This is why Uncle Ming immediately recalled this matter upon drinking the egg noodle soup. In those days, the method for caidan involved being tied at the waist with a long rope, carrying a bamboo basket filled with stones, and a pig's bladder for air, before sinking into the sea. Then, they would try to lure an old clam into opening its shell, allowing them to reach in with their body or arm to take the pearl. Small clams would be placed in the basket, and by shaking the rope, the people on the boat would haul the basket up. Sometimes, due to poor skill or bad luck, the diver would be crushed by a giant clam, or fall victim to a vicious fish. Countless divers died this way. If the rope broke, most were never seen again, with only a line of blood floating to the surface—even their remains couldn't be recovered.

Nine out of ten caidan workers met this tragic end, drowning at the bottom of the sea. If they miraculously survived and retrieved a luminous pearl, they became rich overnight. But human greed knows no bounds; after getting one, they’d desire a second. Yet, returning to harvest again often meant not coming back alive.

It's a difficult trade, not only because of the danger but also requiring a great deal of luck. Since no one dared venture into the depths of the Coral Spiral, they only harvested in the periphery. Even so, they relied on the Dragon King granting them an hour or two of good weather. Otherwise, even before descending to dive for pearls, their boat might capsize first.

Only seasoned old sea wolves who were intimately familiar with this area knew the route. Uncle Ming’s uncle had been an danmin (egg gatherer) in his early years. After losing his capital at Fotangmen, he had to return to his old trade. Unexpectedly, on his very first dive back, he was swallowed by a fish. All four men who went down that time failed to return alive. Uncle Ming was very young then, and the incident deeply affected him. The memory remained vivid even now.

Now, the clams on the outer edge of the Coral Spiral have been almost entirely harvested. But no one is willing to risk venturing into the sea eye to collect pearls, as they are seeking a livelihood, not a death sentence. Therefore, the pearls deep within the Coral Spiral have remained untouched, accumulating over thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of years. It is undeniably an inexhaustible treasure trove. However, despite advances in technology, sophisticated equipment, and machinery now available, actually entering the complex terrain of the Coral Spiral to retrieve treasures remains highly unrealistic.

After Uncle Ming finished speaking, Fatty, Da Jinya, and I all felt our mouths dry. We couldn't tell if it was the saltiness of the noodle soup or the temptation of wealth that made our hearts and hands itch, but our sense of curiosity was certainly piqued. Fatty excitedly told us, "I say, these Moonlight Pearls shouldn't be left untouched! Taking them is acting on heaven's behalf; leaving them is sheer rebellion! Although the risk is considerable, this is the kind of venture where 'no risk, no reward.' If we succeed this time, we can save twenty years of struggle. However, this undertaking won't be cheap. Tomorrow, we'll have Professor Chen provide the funding for the expedition. We can pose as public servants helping him salvage the Qin Emperor's Bone-Mirror, making it perfectly legitimate—half for public good, half for private gain, the ultimate scheme!"

Da Jinya chimed in, "Fatty is absolutely right. Nothing gets done without money; how can you garrison troops without supplies? Regardless of what business we do in America, it all requires capital. Frankly, with our current financial strength, we're a bit stretched. Since we have this opportunity, shouldn't we conduct a feasibility study?"

I thought that if Uncle Ming truly understood the situation within the South China Sea eye, that would be ideal. But Uncle Ming wasn't naive; if he had a way to enter and harvest pearls, would he still be telling us about it now? That sea eye is truly a bottomless pit; no matter how much water pours in day and night, it never seems to fill. Though I haven't seen it, judging by rumors, it bears a striking resemblance to the Ghost Cave of Jingjue. I can't imagine what secrets are hidden there. That mysterious and unpredictable expanse of water certainly won't be easy to navigate. If even the slightest mistake is made, we might enter but never come out.

I was also clear that both for public duty and private gain, we would have to make a trip to the Coral Spiral sooner or later. So, I told them, "A man needs courage, and money is his backbone; base desires are not a sin. We are merchants, and merchants are driven by profit. As long as there is profit to be made, there is reason to go. However, I think we should not rush into anything we are not certain about. You all need to calm down. Let me discuss this with Shirley Yang first. Her ancestors were Banshan Daoren (Mountain-Moving Daoists) who operated along the Jiangsu-Zhejiang coast for a long time and specialized in the unique art of mountain-moving and sea-filling. With the assistance of this profound sea-exploring technique, going to the South China Sea to move mountains and gather pearls will be as easy as taking something from our pocket and closing the door behind us—effortless."