Professor Chen told us that as early as the Yin-Shang Dynasty, due to the threats of war and natural disasters, the ancestors living on the land of China had undergone several large-scale migrations, one branch of which crossed the sea to the south and was never heard from again.

According to historical records, there once existed a towering kingdom of the Hentian people on the coral spiral islands, a civilization highly advanced in bronze work. They were adept at using the Dragon Fire from the seabed and maintained exchanges with the Zhou Dynasty. Their realm contained bottomless caverns. This maritime nation was very likely the Hentian clan that migrated across the sea from the Central Plains. However, after the Qin Dynasty, all records concerning the Hentian Kingdom completely vanished; they disappeared mysteriously into the vast ocean, as if they had never existed in the world. Everything about them became an unsolvable enigma, making the Hentian Kingdom truly a "Lost Kingdom."

Later, a highly accomplished Buddhist master, Master Fayin, who journeyed to the West to retrieve scriptures, returned to China by sea after obtaining the true sutras. He recorded his observations along the route in a remarkable geographical work, Records of the Buddhist Kingdoms (Fo Guo Ji). Within it, he recounted hearing tales of the Hentian Kingdom's ruins while at sea. This record mentioned a bottomless giant cave amidst a dense forest of towering corals, stating that if a boat was drawn into it, no one could ever return alive.

I told Professor Chen, "This legendary bottomless cave at sea is very likely the 'Sea Eye' of the South Sea. It truly resembles the bottomless ghost caves we encountered in the desert. This time when we go out to sea, we will try every means possible to probe its secrets."

Professor Chen warned, "Do not let momentary impulse lead you to risk entering the Sea Eye. The vessel carrying the Qin King's Bone-Mirror likely sank near the Sea Eye, in an area where subsurface Yin Fire smolders. Of course, we must hope for the best, but we also need to prepare for the worst. If, by some chance, the wreck has fallen into the Sea Eye, then it is simply fate, beyond the reach of human effort."

Subsequently, Professor Chen gave us a final, urgent set of instructions regarding the most crucial matter: the Qin King's Bone-Mirror could show the face on both sides. The front was harmless, but we must never look at our reflection in the back of the ancient mirror. Remember this well, remember it well. Professor Chen could not explain the exact reason why, but based on past incidents, this Bone-Mirror seemed burdened by some kind of curse; whoever used the back side invariably met with misfortune. Logically, such words should not come from someone of Professor Chen's standing, but he was likely giving us this warning out of genuine goodwill.

I knew that what Professor Chen said could neither be entirely believed nor entirely dismissed. Just as he had said before, "Within the six directions, nothing is impossible; the foolish are startled and hesitant, the upright see it as divine, the misguided as demonic. Though many tales are told, human knowledge is limited, making it impossible to discern truth from falsehood." In this world, there are indeed many things that defy measurement by common sense and ordinary reasoning. That bronze mirror which had guarded a corpse in an ancient tomb for over a thousand years must carry the subtle energy of the earth, which would be harmful, not beneficial, to the living. This might be similar to the rule observed by the Tomb Raiders: "When the lamp dims at cock's crow, do not touch the gold." Since the Qin King's Bone-Mirror carries such a taboo, there must be a reason behind it. Since we cannot trace the true cause, we should avoid violating it as much as possible. Hand-typed by Sun Feng at Wenxin Pavilion.

A few days later, Uncle Ming, whose condition had been the most severe, finally recovered. He led me, Fatty, and Da Jinya. The group traveled light, using Uncle Ming's contacts in Hong Kong to arrange passage via a smuggling boat. After several twists and turns, we were transported to Coral Temple Island. The island was originally unnamed, but because there was a sea-gazing cliff on the south side, upon which sat the ruins of an ancient coral temple—said to be a relic from Zheng He’s voyages to the Western Seas—travelers by sea began using the temple as a landmark for the location.

Coral Temple Island was surrounded by the sea, with swaying coconut groves—a perfect Southern vista. The air was permeated with an indescribable scent of the ocean. The fishing village beneath the cliff was serene and deep, devoid of the clamor of carts and horses. The island also featured a world-rare natural wonder: a freshwater bay separated from the ocean by just a single stone. Its water was clear and sweet, providing ample fresh water for passing ships. It was not only the necessary stop before entering the Coral Spiral but also the last resupply point at sea.

The small fishing village of several dozen households on the island lived under primitive and backward conditions, relying on the sea for sustenance. Besides fishing and pearl diving, they also sold antiques and old items salvaged from the nearby waters. Antique dealers and collectors from the coast regularly came here to purchase and trade. Multiple currencies circulated, with the US dollar being the strongest. Adventurers and salvage teams often frequented this island, trying their luck, and rumors of discovering rare treasures were common. Over time, Coral Temple Island developed into a black market suspended over the ocean, effectively an autonomous territory outside conventional jurisdiction.

This island was situated near the sea route famously known as the ancient Maritime Silk Road, where numerous shipwrecks from the Yuan and Ming dynasties lay submerged. The items hauled up by the fishermen were diverse: porcelain, weapons, spices, timber, ancient coins, statues, and glass artifacts full of Islamic influence. There were also sealed bottles of aged wine salvaged from wrecks, and even antiquities whose age even experts like us couldn't place. There were even moldy brand-name leather shoes stripped off the feet of corpses found on the beach. Tomb Raiders call the treasures from tombs "Mingqi" (Spirit Objects); things salvaged from the sea have their own terminology, collectively known in common vernacular as "Qingtou" (Green Heads). Trading these items is called "receiving Qingtou." Wherever there is a Chinese community, these jargon terms are universally understood. Doing business with Qingtou is similar to dealing in antiques; the most important thing is to be knowledgeable. If you lack understanding, no one will trade with you. What constitutes being knowledgeable? Mastering the jargon and understanding the unwritten rules are the most basic requirements.

Da Jinya, Fatty, and I had never dealt with Qingtou before, so we were all amazed by this new world. But Uncle Ming informed us that while counterfeits were not numerous among the goods traded here, the items had lain submerged for ages, and erosion and damage were extremely common. Unless one paid a high price, it was difficult to find genuine artifacts in good condition, unless one struck it incredibly lucky—but such opportunities were exceedingly rare. Many professionals who made a living doing this were staked out here daily; as soon as fishermen salvaged anything decent, it was immediately bought up. If your luck wasn't good enough, you wouldn't even get to see it, only being able to inquire about the rumors afterward to gain experience for the next chance.

According to our plan, we were to stay on Coral Temple Island for a period to make thorough preparations for setting sail, waiting until we rendezvoused with those coming from Inley Yang before taking action. Thus, we found a fisherman in the village willing to host guests, settled on a price, and moved in. With time to spare, we toured the island and eventually found an open-air tavern to quench our thirst with some beer.

The tavern was essentially a long counter made from an old wooden crate, and all the seating consisted of open wooden boxes. Fish jerky hung drying from ropes strung on either side. Besides various drinks, the counter displayed a dazzling array of "Qingtou." Every evening at dusk, those who had finished their business or returned from fishing would come here for a few drinks and to chat about the news, but during the day, it was deserted. The owner was a middle-aged man surnamed Wu. Because of a lame leg, the locals called him "Bāi Wǔ" (Limping Wu). He was dark-skinned and sturdy, his demeanor clearly that of a seasoned sea wolf accustomed to battling wind and waves.

Bāi Wǔ was Chinese. His ancestors had served in the former Beiyang Fleet. During the Republic of China era, he began engaging in a low-capital venture at sea. This trade was passed down to Bāi Wǔ, whose leg was permanently disabled by a gunshot wound, turning him into a "Bāi Lǎo" (Limping Man). He ended up staying on Coral Temple Island to sell liquor for a living. However, this was just his surface business; his primary role was selling various goods to outsiders—anything available or unavailable on the island, he could procure through special channels. Hand-typed by Sun Feng at Wenxin Pavilion.

The one-legged proprietor, Bāi Wǔ, showed great enthusiasm upon seeing compatriots from the mainland. Just as I settled down and took a couple of sips of beer, he approached and asked if I had ever served in the military.

Ten years of military service meant that the habits of standing and marching were ingrained in my very blood; concealment was impossible. I had to tell him the truth: I enlisted in the winter of 1969, making me a '69 veteran.

Bāi Wǔ’s attitude immediately turned respectful: "Ah, a soldier of Chairman Mao! Forgive my lack of deference. Please, don't hold back when drinking here; these drinks are on me. Drink until your heart's content."

I was quite puzzled. Even if I had served Chairman Mao and fought for Leader Deng, what connection did that have with an overseas fisherman like you? Was it necessary to treat us to drinks? Had this beer been laced with knockout drops? Only when Bāi Wǔ began detailing his own background and business did I suddenly realize: this tavern owner was a profiteer just like Da Jinya, looking to strike a deal with us.

Uncle Ming had spent half his life sailing, dealing in both legitimate and shady businesses, and by seniority, he was Bāi Wǔ's elder. After a brief probing, Bāi Wǔ realized our group included experts and shrewd individuals. Therefore, he dared not hold back; otherwise, there would be no business to discuss.

Still, I preferred to remain discreet, only telling him that our group had lost money doing business domestically and were heading out to sea to try our luck finding some Qingtou. Hearing this, Bāi Wǔ immediately pushed several wooden crates out from under the counter: "These crates of Qingtou were reserved for old clients, but in deference to the fact that we are all descendants of Yan and Huang, sharing the same bloodline and connected by severed bones, if any of you brothers fancy them, forget the old client or new client—I’ll let you have them first."

I signaled to Da Jinya. Look at how righteously Bāi Wǔ spoke, but we haven't been in this business for a day or two. These heartfelt words, if we were to say them, would definitely carry more conviction and loftiness than his. Bāi Wǔ’s skill truly lacked polish, but then again, how deep could the waters of an island black market be compared to the depths of Panjiayuan? Still, since the goods were out, we should look before we leap. If there were truly good items, there was no reason not to take them.

Because we rarely ventured into this side of the business back in Panjiayuan, we were very interested in the Qingtou goods and immediately focused on inspecting them, putting the main objective out of our minds for the moment. Upon examination, everyone found that Bāi Wǔ did indeed have quite a few Qingtou, and their condition and preservation were much better than those sold by the fishermen on the ground. However, there were still no top-tier pieces. Only Fatty discovered an ivory-handled scimitar from Arabia, but Da Jinya quickly identified it as a fake.