We plunged into the sunken wreck without carrying any lead weights, gripping only the fixed structures within the vessel. When we encountered no solid holds, we drove our diving knives into the gaps between the steel plates, using them to gradually descend deeper. A massive shark was pursuing us closely from behind. Suddenly, the hull split open with a large fissure, shaking everyone. Knowing this was bad, we looked back to see several more sharks swimming in through the newly ruptured body of the ship and into the grand hall of what had been a luxurious cruise liner.

A tiger shark, charging aggressively, brushed against the massive white shark. Startled by the ship’s tremor and bristling with an indescribable, surging anger, the great white shook its huge body, creating a current that sent the sharks trailing behind it tumbling askew. Seeing an opening, and with nowhere else to go but the cargo hold of the Mary Selene, I gestured repeatedly to the other three. The diving team members swiftly passed through the central hall without looking back, circled around a bit, and one by one, dove into a cabin aft that looked like a galley kitchen.

At the hatch, Gu Cai was still reluctant to give up, constantly looking back at the sharks behind us, perhaps intending to fight them to the bitter end until steel drew blood. I pressed his head down and forced him into the cabin. As the saying goes, "Earth builds walls with earth; people build kings with people." In such a dangerous situation, everyone must evade the sharp edge of the danger. How could a mere fifteen or sixteen-year-old Longhu hope to deal with so many ferocious sharks? This was hardly the time for bravado!

I remembered the blueprints showed this cabin had two exits; the one leading to the main hall was just one. The other led down to the bilge, a shortcut to the cargo hold. After taking the rear, we entered to find the kitchen even more chaotic inside—pots, pans, cooking utensils, and various pieces of equipment scattered everywhere, overturned. I wanted to lock the newly opened hatch from the inside. While the great shark was powerful, it wouldn't easily smash through a closed door. However, the hull was slightly twisted, and the door could no longer be shut.

An idea struck me. The Fatty and I propped the largest cabinet in the kitchen diagonally against the door. By then, the sharks outside were already ramming the door, causing the sliding panels of the cupboard to fly open. Countless broken porcelain dishes tumbled out with a clatter. But the cabinet was supported by the angle formed between the hull and the door, preventing the sharks from breaking in immediately.

The Fatty rummaged randomly in the kitchen, pulled open a meat locker, and yanked out half a side of rotten pork, pushing it against the door. He probably hoped that if the sharks came in, they would see the pork and stop biting people. I thought to myself, Damn it, this is the modern-day Arabian Nights. To come up with such self-deceiving ideas at this point! I suspected these sharks were not here for casual hunting. They were likely drawn by whatever was attached to Gu Cai’s back; otherwise, they wouldn't be chasing us divers so relentlessly.

I raised my hand and grabbed the Fatty, signaling him to stop wasting his energy. Looking at the unstable kitchen, I knew we had to retreat further into the depths of the wreck. The cargo hold should be the most structurally sound area in the stern. We needed to find a path there before making any further plans.

The four of us circled through the aft section of the wreck and finally found the lowest cargo hold in a T-junction corridor beneath an iron ladder. The Mary Selene cruise liner belonged to a wealthy tycoon from Southeast Asia who had made his fortune in drug smuggling before gradually moving into the antique artifact trade. Unlike Uncle Ming, this man didn't deal in just any money; he wouldn't touch anything unless it was priceless. Artifacts recovered from sunken treasures (Qingtou) or tombs (Mingqi) that passed through his hands were almost always national treasures and secret relics.

His ship was unlike ordinary cruise freighters; besides serving as a pleasure vessel, it was also a means of transport for smuggling and trading ancient artifacts. Thus, the cargo hold wasn't large, but it was the most heavily secured part of the entire ship—sealed, waterproof, fireproof, and pressure-resistant. Everything from massive bronze tripods to luminous pearls could find its proper place inside for safe preservation.

According to survivors, the liner lost its bearings in a typhoon and sank rapidly after hitting the storm, with no time for evacuation. Nearly all the crew and passengers perished at sea. The contents of this cargo hold were very likely still in place, untouched. Now submerged in the deep abyss (Guixu), they were ownerless; whoever salvaged them would own them.

In the corridor leading to the cargo hold, most of the sediment had rushed in. The seawater was murky and deep-colored, reducing the effective range of the diving flashlights to almost nothing. Only the Poseidon’s Radiance, equipped with a krypton bulb, could penetrate seven or eight meters of water. However, such powerful lamps consume a lot of power, requiring battery changes underwater if used continuously. Therefore, the diving team only carried one such spotlight.

We had to rely entirely on the single strong beam. The four of us maintained extremely close proximity, mapping out the immediate surroundings, and feeling our way to the edge of the sealed cargo hold. The steel door was still tightly shut, secured by six intact locking bolts on the side, resembling a massive metal coffin.

The Fatty was an expert at picking locks and prying open coffins. He felt the thickness and sturdiness of the bolts, gave us a thumbs-up, signaling that dismantling the door was achievable. The cargo hold in a private yacht is like a safe, but this safe was only meant to guard against petty thieves who might try tampering with the door. The owner never dreamed someone would use a hydraulic breaching tool to force entry. Under the cut of a diamond-edged chainsaws, a few locking bolts offered practically no protection.

I signaled the Fatty to work quickly on removing the door, while ordering Shirley Yang and Gu Cai to guard the passage leading to the bilge and establish a defensive line. The spearguns were loaded. If any shark approached, in this narrow underwater space, we could alternate firing the two spears to hold them off for a short time.

Gu Cai took a breath through his regulator, holding his Longhu short saber, vigilantly watching the underwater situation. He seemed unaware of anything unusual behind him, but I noticed the patch of black water clinging to his body was still there. Perhaps it was too dark in the bilge, or maybe the black substance was spreading. His entire back was stained as if with ink, far worse than when we were in the captain’s quarters.

Shirley Yang also noticed this anomaly. I waved my hand at her, indicating I couldn't help. I didn't know what was on Gu Cai’s back—it wouldn't wash off or wipe away. Perhaps it was the vengeful spirits of the deceased on the ship clinging to him. Until we could confirm the truth, we could only wait and see, or perhaps figure something out once we surfaced. It was unfortunate that we left in such a hurry for this trip and forgot the Heilv Tizi (black donkey hooves). Otherwise, even underwater, a touch to his back would tell us if it was a ghost or an evil spirit.

Time ticked by. The Fatty finally managed to dislodge the last locking bolt on the door. I secretly thanked the Ancestor of the Qingtou salvage, the Fisher Lord, for his blessing. We all worked together to pry the door open. I immediately pointed the beam of the spotlight inside. Inside this secret cargo hold, there was another sluice gate. As soon as it opened, seawater immediately poured in.

The interior structure resembled a large shelving unit, holding three ancient, dark sandalwood boxes. The Qin Wang Zhao Gu Jing (King of Qin Bone-Reflecting Mirror) must be in one of them. I handed the spotlight to Gu Cai, asking him to hold it steady for illumination. Shirley Yang gripped her speargun, watching for approaching sharks. The Fatty and I set about prying open the wooden chests. Sandalwood resists insects and moisture, which is why experts who collect antiques often house their treasures in sandalwood chests—I’ve seen many such items.

I waved each of the three sandalwood boxes slightly and knew one was empty, tossing it aside. I then pried open the other two. One contained a set of jade burial armor. When illuminated by the spotlight, its dazzling splendor could not be concealed even in the pitch-black seawater. The entire garment was inlaid with jewels. Observing its peculiar style and strong religious characteristics, it was extremely rare.

I understood a bit about Buddhist lore. This jade burial armor might have been worn by a golden Buddha statue in a temple in a region with flourishing Buddhist practices, like Thailand. Only monks of very high rank were entitled to dress the golden Buddha in it during traditional Buddhist festivals for emperors and nobles to worship and burn incense before. Ordinary folk wouldn't even have the chance to see it in their lifetime. This was truly heavenly attire.

My heart hammered wildly. This Qingtou was incredibly "hot" to handle. While grave robbing is fundamentally about acquiring treasures, there are several tiers of objects that can be called "treasure." Ordinary Mingqi were already valuable, capable of yielding huge profits upon sale. But some rare, unique divine artifacts are not necessarily sellable even if obtained. Things of such monumental worth should never fall into the hands of mere mortals. This set of heavenly robes—I wondered which temple in Southeast Asia considered it their most sacred relic, to end up here.

The Fatty and I exchanged a look. We both dealt in Mingqi and Qingtou, but look at the caliber of goods this cruise ship owner was trafficking. Only the old capitalists had the capital and the sheer audacity—daring to smuggle the possessions of the Buddha! No wonder the ship got lost and met disaster. Now, we Mojin Xiaowei (Grave Robbers) had stumbled upon a windfall. We really owed our ancestor a few sticks of incense when we returned.

The Fatty could barely contain his excitement, practically vibrating with eagerness. He made no attempt to hide it, reaching out to grab the jade burial armor and stuffing it into the diving satchel slung across his body. I pulled over the second treasure chest, my mind still buzzing with the dazzling gemstones of the heavenly attire. I casually pried open the lid. Everyone moved to the side to prevent the mirror back from facing us. As the sandalwood chest opened, an intense, chilling cold suddenly radiated from the dark water. Although our diving suits effectively prevented hypothermia, they seemed unable to block the icy aura surging from the sandalwood box. It was like gulping down a large bowl of ice-cold snowmelt in the dead of winter; my whole body involuntarily shuddered.

It seemed the other three felt this sensation as well. All eyes followed the spotlight into the wooden box. There lay an ancient bronze mirror, placed perfectly inside. The mirror surface was quite worn, making the reflections indistinct. The circumference was adorned with cast bronze patterns of fish and dragons. On the lower left side was a four-legged fish, a creature rumored to only exist in the East Sea, its appearance somewhat humanoid and grotesque. Supporting the ancient mirror in the water, the bronze mirror’s design was asymmetrical, yet it possessed an unearthly, awe-inspiring beauty.

Da Jinya once told me back in Beijing's Panjiayuan market that almost every valuable antique in the world is unique. They have endured hundreds, if not thousands, of years, handled by countless collectors or isolated in tombs, forging the object's inherent character and spirit. Holding a genuine piece gives one a "special feeling of tracing the past amidst the vicissitudes of time—a thousand years of history in the turning of the seas and sands." This indescribable feeling becomes even stronger if one constantly deals with antiques and Mingqi. Among the methods for authenticating antiques, intuition is the most crucial and the hardest to master; in fact, this skill cannot truly be taught. Unless one has spent several years sifting through piles of old objects, gaining entry is impossible; it relies on one's own insight and experience.

I don't know if I possess Da Jinya’s sharp perception and unique intuition regarding antiquities, but the moment the treasure chest opened underwater, that palpable, formless pressure emanating from the void gave us a clear message: "No need for appraisal—this ancient mirror is certainly the Qin Wang Zhao Gu Jing that the King of Qin used to suppress the sea zombies."

I silently praised it—What a magnificent object! I hadn't expected to find what I sought so effortlessly after searching high and low. The genuine treasure lay before us, yet merely looking at it made my heart pound uneasily. I still couldn't fully believe it was real, especially since a human life had already been lost over this mirror. From my perspective, it wasn't worth it. Between a peerless national treasure and the life of an ordinary fisherman, I would choose the latter. But since the price had already been paid, the object absolutely had to be brought back.

With that thought, I reached out to grab the bronze mirror. Shirley Yang beside me quickly pressed my hand down. I knew she was worried I’d forgotten the taboo that the back of the Qin Wang Zhao Gu Jing must never face a living person. Although this was a sinister legend, there are many inexplicable phenomena both inside and outside the Six Harmonies (the world). One should neither blindly believe nor completely dismiss them.

I nodded to Shirley Yang, assuring her not to worry. I knew the ancient mirror was dangerous, so I held it carefully, intending to wrap it in silk first before placing it in the satchel to take to the surface. I wouldn't let the bag out of my sight until we returned, and the mirror would definitely stay inside until handed over to Professor Chen—then a major task would be complete.

Just as our mission for this voyage was about to be fulfilled, disaster struck the wreck. The listing bow of the Mary Selene, which had been supported by ancient ruins on the seabed, began to sink into the remnants of an ancient sailing ship below as the midsection ruptured. The decaying wooden hull finally succumbed under the pressure, its keel suddenly snapping. The Mary Selene immediately slid into the deeper water.

The cabins felt as if the world had turned upside down. We felt a wave of dizziness and suffocation. I wasn't sure if my scuba gear had been punctured, as countless white bubbles surged out. The spotlight bumped against the bulkhead, lost contact, and went out. In the absolute darkness, the Qin Wang Zhao Gu Jing I held in my hands fell onto the floor amidst the violent shaking. When the wreck finally settled against a nearby ruined stone pillar, I quickly fumbled for the mirror. Fortunately, it hadn't been lost or damaged.

At that moment, the Fatty frantically smacked the spotlight until the faulty connection was restored, and the light flickered back on. As the light flashed, I instinctively glanced at the ancient mirror in my hand. In the dark scramble underwater, I had only focused on retrieving it and hadn't paid attention to its orientation. Looking at it, the hair on my scalp stood on end: the yin-facing back of the Qin Wang Zhao Gu Jing was staring right at me.