The treasures hidden within the ancient tomb included many "Unidentified Artifacts." These were ancient, secret artifacts whose origins were unknown and unrecorded—things that should never have seen the light of day. Once they entered the common world, how could ordinary people, upon seeing them, not be seized by greed? Even if they didn't immediately sell them for profit, they would surely try to leverage the opportunity to gain fleeting, hollow fame. This reveals just how deeply the pursuit of "fame and fortune" harms people.

The bronze divination mirror I salvaged from the seabed during my voyage to Nanyang was one such rare artifact: a "Zhou Tian Trigram Mirror." I had fully expected Professor Chen to submit it for national collection. To my surprise, it was ultimately swindled away by Professor Sun, who was obsessed with "achieving great things in secret." If I hadn't found his field notebook in the museum, he would have continued to keep me completely in the dark.

Inley Yang, Fatty, and I immediately took the notebook and confronted Professor Sun at his home. I had caught Professor Sun red-handed. He begged us not to report his "secret hoarding of cultural relics for private research," stressing that this was no small matter. He had already made enemies of many people; if his superiors or colleagues found out, it would surely lead to total ruin and a colossal sin.

Although I was angry about his private possession of the bronze mirror, I didn't truly wish to humiliate him and leave him no way out. So, I kept the warning brief. I told Professor Sun that since he already showed remorse, all he had to do now was follow my instructions, and our policy would be to let bygones be bygones; we would pretend this never happened.

Fatty and I laid out our terms. First, Sun Xuewu had to write a self-criticism. Although the phrase "a momentary lapse of selfishness (lost in thought...)" is no longer fashionable, putting one's mistakes down in writing is still necessary. If the old man denied it later, the signed and sealed self-criticism document could be handed over to the relevant departments for processing. I dictated every word of it; what was called a "self-criticism" was, in essence, a "confession."

Next, the ancient mirror and the ancient talismans had to be returned intact to Professor Chen. Regardless of the circumstances, the credit for offering the treasure certainly did not belong to Professor Sun. However, that was a matter for later. For now, we needed to borrow the artifact—we needed Professor Sun to lead us to the "Dì Xiān Village Ancient Tomb" where the "Dāndǐng Heavenly Book" was hidden.

That Ming Dynasty Earth Immortal, skilled in the demonic art of "Guān Shān Zhǐ Mí" (Mountain Viewing Guidance and Delusion Removal), had hidden his tomb extremely deep. But using the ancient grave-robbing technique, the "Wèn" (Inquiry) Incantation, and utilizing the persistently dense sea miasma concentrated in the bronze divination mirror, there was a small chance to divine the Feng Shui lines of "Dì Xiān Village." Then, our band of "Mojin Xiaowei" (Grave Robbing Colonels) could enter, plunder the tomb, and retrieve the thousand-year-old Corpse Elixir. Whether the "Dì Xiān Village Ancient Tomb" actually contained the "Corpse Elixir" recorded in apocryphal histories was uncertain for the moment, but now that I knew of this possibility, I could not ignore it if I was to save Duo Ling's life.

Upon hearing this demand, Professor Sun immediately shook his head repeatedly, saying the task was harder than ascending to heaven. He noted that the "human-oil candle and the bronze divination mirror" were both currently present. That human-oil candle had been brought back from the seabed by the salvage team, but it wasn't refined from actual human fat and oil; instead, it was made from the rendered fat of the Black-Scaled Merfolk from the South China Sea, allowing it to burn perpetually, undiminished even by wind—it was more than adequate for our needs.

The bronze divination talismans, shaped like one dragon and one fish, were also secured. The two ancient talismans could deduce half of a trigram formation, but we didn't know the mystery behind them. Without deciphering the implication of the sightless bronze talismans, there was no way to use them. Furthermore, the most critical issue was time; the ancient mirror could not be preserved for much longer.

Inley Yang had remained silent since arriving at Professor Sun's house. Hearing this strange remark, she couldn't help but ask, "What do you mean? Why do you say the ancient mirror is running out of time?"

I patted Professor Sun's shoulder, warning him, "Don't boast about being Old Master Nine, but we aren't complete novices when it comes to the Way of Ancient Research. If you speak nonsense, don't blame me if I don't give Old Master Nine any face."

Professor Sun sighed. "What Old Master Nine? Please don't bring that up. I was deeply traumatized by that, and frankly, what more can I hide from you now? Look for yourselves; this bronze ancient mirror, cast with the Dragon Fire of the Guixu Abyss, cannot be preserved for many more months." As he spoke, he flipped the mirror over for us to inspect.

The sealing wax on the back of the mirror had already been removed, revealing the richly patterned bronze back. Inley Yang, Fatty, and I, being predisposed, subconsciously viewed this mirror as the "Qin Wang Bone-Illuminating Mirror." Upon seeing the back, we instinctively recoiled, afraid of being seen through by its light and catching the subtle miasma of the South China Sea zombies.

Only after seeing the back was unremarkable did we remember this was a bronze divination mirror, unrelated to the thousand-year-old corpse-suppressing "Qin Wang Bone-Illuminating Mirror." We leaned closer to examine it carefully and finally understood what Professor Sun meant.

It turned out the most peculiar feature of the Guixu Ancient Mirror was that it had been tempered by Yin Fire. The sea miasma from the South China Sea eye—(two characters, the first being qi with yin below it, the second being qi with wen below it*—I should have studied liberal arts... please forgive the crude description!*)—had permeated the copper for ten thousand years, giving the bronze a color like aged jade. However, this mirror had drifted in the world for thousands of years. Its last "collector," or perhaps "antiquities dealer," before it sank to the bottom of the sea, clearly did not know how to properly store this peerless artifact. Perhaps fearing the dissipation of the sea miasma within the mirror, he sealed the back with wax, an act that proved counterproductive. The sealing wax had reacted chemically with the Guixu bronze, almost completely corroding the metal on the back. Now, the life force within the bronze ancient mirror was barely a thread, and its color had already changed. Soon, the divination mirror would entirely lose its essential bronze nature and become nothing more than an ordinary piece of bronze ware.

I knew Professor Sun wasn't lying, but seeing the prospect of finding the "Dì Xiān Ancient Tomb" dashed, I couldn't help but feel disappointed. Just as I was about to ask if there were any other avenues, Fatty interjected, "I've only had two pancakes since I woke up. If we miss the mealtime, my stomach will start complaining. Old Man Sun, stop the nonsense; hurry up and bring the money; we're heading to Zhengyangju for a feast."

Professor Sun dared not refuse. Fortunately, he had just received his salary and bonus, plus stipends from teaching; he brought it all, untouched, and led us to the renowned "Zhengyangju," a state-run restaurant specializing in Manchu-Han Imperial Cuisine that Fatty and I had long admired. Thinking that Professor Sun owed us this much, we felt we should take advantage of it without courtesy. However, we soon learned that to enjoy the full Manchu-Han banquet, one needed a reservation in advance. So, we ordered several grand dishes instead, filling the entire table.

Professor Sun forced a smile, unsure if he was pained by his wallet or worried about "the matter coming to light." In any case, his expression was exceedingly unnatural. He first filled a cup of wine for Fatty and said ingratiatingly, "Please... please..."

Fatty was highly satisfied. He raised his cup, took a loud Zī’r sound, and drained the cup of Maotai in one gulp, grinning widely. "Professor Sun, never mind that you’re Old Master Nine and know more characters than Fatty. I can tell just by looking that you don't know how to drink. See that? What I just drank is called a Tiger Sip—learn something new! Hurry up and refill my cup for Fatty to perform his signature move, the Whale Swallow."

I suspected Professor Sun now wished he could swallow Fatty whole, but constrained, he had to swallow his anger and continue pouring wine and picking up dishes for Fatty. I found it amusing to watch, thinking this was some retribution. Considering playing a trick on him too, I noticed Inley Yang looking at me with slightly furrowed brows, her eyes holding a hint of reproach. She clearly felt Fatty and I were overdoing it. While Professor Sun wasn't exactly a figure of high prestige, he was still a scholar with a position. He had already apologized and made amends; why treat him this way?

I paid it no mind. I thought, "This despicable Professor Sun needs to be taught a lesson like this, otherwise he might never learn. Not completely demolishing him is already letting him off easy." But I didn't want to make Inley Yang uncomfortable, so I just kept eating and drinking silently, foregoing joking around with Fatty.

Professor Sun then poured a glass of wine for Inley Yang and sighed, "It was a momentary lapse, just a single thoughtlessness. Miss Yang, please, when you return, do not mention this matter to Old Chen. Otherwise, I will never have the face to see him again in this life..."

Inley Yang comforted him, "Don't worry, I swear I won't mention a word of it, nor will I let Old Hu and the others speak of it. You may return the ancient mirror to Professor Chen yourself."

Professor Sun had been praying for these words, as if receiving a grand imperial amnesty. He exclaimed happily, "That is best, that is best..."

Hearing this, I looked up and saw Professor Sun's eyes glittering. Beyond the relief of escaping disaster, there was a faint, subtle expression hidden there. Though fleeting, it did not escape my notice. My thoughts racing, I immediately put down my chopsticks and cut in, "No. The bronze ancient mirror, the notebook detailing the investigation of the Guān Shān Tàibǎo, and that self-criticism must first be kept with me. I need to study whether there are other ways to find the Dì Xiān Ancient Tomb. This is a matter of life and death; it cannot be left to others."

The smile froze on Professor Sun's face. He looked at me, then at Inley Yang, his expression seeming to ask, "The two of you—one says return it, the other says no. Who ultimately decides?"

I ignored Professor Sun and turned to clink glasses with Fatty, chatting about amusing anecdotes at the table. Seeing this, Inley Yang could only shrug helplessly at Professor Sun and say, "Sorry."

Professor Sun then realized Inley Yang had no final say. He turned back to toast me, begging, "Comrade Hu, you must show mercy for the sake of others! Back in Shaanxi, you asked me many crucial things, and I told you everything I knew without reservation. I helped you then, so please let me return the bronze mirror to Old Chen personally."

I also told Professor Sun with sincerity, "Old Master Sun Nine, if you hadn't helped me in Shaanxi, I absolutely would not let this slide this time. Do you know that you have secretly hidden a national treasure we recovered at the cost of lives? I can drop the pursuit of this matter, but I am not joking. I genuinely plan to use these items to go to Sichuan and search for the Dì Xiān Ancient Tomb. Until then, under no circumstances can they return to your possession. However, if you are uneasy, you can choose to cooperate with me. As long as you contribute and help me find this ancient tomb, you can take the Zhou Tian Trigram Charts stored in the museum for your research; you will surely become the foremost authority in reactionary scholarship."

Professor Sun fell silent for a long moment after hearing this. He grabbed the wine bottle and gulped down several mouthfuls. Before long, the alcohol took hold, his face flushing purple. He stared at me and lowered his voice, "Hu Bayi, you brat, you are forcing me to lead you on a grave robbery!"

I laughed, "Old Master Sun Nine, you’ve finally caught on. But can't you see? We are just honest folks who want to conduct an on-site investigation to see if the legend of the Dì Xiān Ancient Tomb is true. Besides, you sneakily research underground tomb robbing techniques—do you have no improper ambitions yourself?"

Professor Sun said with a bitter expression, "The Dì Xiān Village was built by the Guān Shān Tàibǎo tomb robbers during the Ming Dynasty and hidden deep in the mountains. My motive for researching the secret arts of folk tomb robbing is the same as yours: I only wanted to find a way to prove its existence, not to actually rob the tomb."

I thought, "Truth comes out after drink." Taking advantage of Professor Sun's intoxication, I needed to pin him down on the facts. I asked him if the legends of the Guān Shān Tàibǎo, the Feng Wang Tomb, Dì Xiān Village, the Dāndǐng Strange Artifacts, and the mechanical ambushes were credible.

Professor Sun said that even when tens of thousands of rebels poured into Sichuan, they couldn't excavate it, and now absolutely no one believed "Dì Xiān Village" existed. He had spent immense effort collecting data, and more and more evidence suggested that there truly was a "Dì Xiān Tomb" in Sichuan, containing the burial furnishings of many ancient tombs from various dynasties. But this matter could not gain acceptance from others. A certain authoritative figure had accused—such folk legends were extremely unreliable, arising from "lack of knowledge, superstition, and wishful thinking"—primitive, fanciful nonsense. Anyone who believed it was a complete lunatic.

We thought those words were incredibly mean. We hadn't realized Professor Sun had been burdened with so many labels, and we couldn't help but feel the immense injustice on his behalf. In worldly matters, it is always "easier to say there is none than to prove there is." It is a common herd mentality; sticking to conservatism and a purely scientific worldview inevitably leads to a lack of courage to face new things and new concepts. Sympathy arose in me, so I urged him to drink a few more cups. How can everything in life go as one wishes? It is good enough that he can drown his sorrow in drink.

Unexpectedly, Professor Sun had a low tolerance. After downing a few cups of strong liquor, the alcohol churned his sorrow, and he became utterly disoriented. Fatty knew to half-drag and half-carry him out to vomit. Watching his staggering back, I sighed softly and said to Inley Yang, "Professor Sun is also a victim of unrecognized talent; he has likely lived most of his life in bitterness and unhappiness..."

Inley Yang suddenly remembered something. She poured me a glass of wine and asked, "By the way, why do you call Professor Sun 'Old Master Nine'? Is he the ninth-born?"

I replied that I didn't know his actual birth order. The nickname "Old Master Nine" was actually a teasing term. During the ten-year movement in the past, we referred to intellectuals as "Stinking Old Nines," derived from the traditional ranking of "Officials, Clerks, Monks, Taoists, Doctors, Artisans, Hunters, Peasants, Scholars, Beggars." Since Scholars ranked ninth, and because a certain great leader once publicly quoted lines from Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy saying, "The Old Nine must not leave"—meaning intellectuals should not all be driven away—the term "Old Nine" became popularized. However, these concepts have long been swept away by the times. Fatty and I called Professor Sun "Old Master Nine" just to joke with him.

(To be continued)