Fan Debiao and Young Master Liu held Scholar Jia in high regard; frankly, men of loyalty were exceedingly rare in this era. They said to him, "Then we'll have to trouble you to come with us. Once we find it, you stay out of it, and when we come out, we'll split it five ways, with each of us taking half!"

Who knew Scholar Jia would reply, "I'm not doing this for wealth. Truthfully, here in Shaanxi, while I might not have the strength to go after huge scores, sometimes a single tomb raid is enough for a comfortable retirement!"

Everyone was initially excited, but this trip to Tibet presented a problem: they were without a guide and lacked experience. Scholar Jia was vastly experienced, especially after the incident in the ancient city, so he took the lead.

Scholar Jia stated, "Let's agree beforehand: I will only point the way. Key decisions must still be made by Mr. Liu here." Everyone readily agreed to this proposal.

Scholar Jia continued, "Don't let the desolate regions of Tibet fool you. Everyone knows about the ancient city there. It’s not just the Chinese; even those damn foreigners are stirring up trouble, openly researching ancient documents while secretly smuggling the hard stuff overseas!"

The "hard stuff" Scholar Jia spoke of included gold, silver, jade, and ancient bronze coins.

"Of course, the worst part is these fellows don't even spare the steles, or the stone statues! They act like they've never seen anything before, taking whatever they can find—they're worse than bandits!" Scholar Jia laughed as he said this. "I once ran into a fair-haired one who babbled on; I couldn't understand a word. They carried away a stele, leaving behind things that were actually valuable. I truly don't understand if these foreigners have issues with their brains."

Young Master Liu knew that stele must have held significant cultural value, or the foreigners wouldn't have expended so much effort hauling a piece of rock away.

"The most frightening, though, are our own Chinese people. The warlords in old Tibet also had cavalry units specializing in carrying explosives everywhere to rob tombs, then buying foreign guns and cannons to expand their armies, preparing in case Tibet was seized by other warlords and they couldn't remain the local emperor."

Senior Jia said with some worry, "The last time we went, we ran into one such group. Luckily, we dodged fast enough, or we would have become ghosts shot by them before even reaching the ancient city."

To tell the truth, when raiding tombs, encountering warlords was the scariest prospect. Back then, it was impossible to reason with them. From ancient times to the present, many warlords used various banners to loot graves, make illicit fortunes from the dead, and then purchase weaponry. The most notorious was Sun Dianying, that reckless fool who used the excuse of a military exercise to excavate the tombs of that old man Qianlong and that bastard Cixi, truly netting a fortune. When the last emperor of the Qing Dynasty, Puyi, abdicated, the Eastern Tombs still maintained tomb-guarding personnel; the organization continued to follow Qing protocols, and there were still Banner troops and Green Standard Army soldiers stationed there for protection. The Imperial Clan Court and the Ministry of Rites handled all matters concerning the mausoleums. But those Banner troops could only throw their weight around when the Great Qing Dynasty was still in power; against Sun Dianying, they didn't even have the capital left to rely on their past glory, did they?

"However…" Scholar Jia’s tone shifted. "Those Tibetan cavalry units were fierce for a couple of days at the start. Later, one cavalry unit went out searching for a major tomb. After digging up several tombs of the Hui Kings, they reached the deep plateau, and not a single man returned. Not even a horse was found—gone without a trace, dead or alive. Afterward, the warlord became much calmer, looking for ways to gather supplies through other channels, which was actually good for us!"

Having settled the final matter, everyone decided to leave immediately. Apart from a few sets of clothes, Fan Debiao didn't let anyone bring anything else; he said he would arrange for the necessities once they reached Tibet and there was no need to worry. And so, Young Master Liu, Fan Debiao, Cai Qingchong, Scholar Jia, and Yang Weidong, a PLA scout sent along, rushed toward the city nearest the airport.

The whole way, Scholar Jia’s face was devoid of expression, like a stubborn wooden stump, his hands jammed deep into his pockets. He wore a small leather cap, the kind favored by collaborators in the old days, giving off an extremely unsettling air of mystery.

From Shaanxi to Tibet was almost halfway across China. Traveling by car was impractical, and besides, they were carrying heavy responsibilities, so flying was almost their only option now.

Fortunately, thanks to government connections, the hard-to-get flight tickets were smoothly secured. They were even assigned to a special first-class cabin. This made Young Master Liu, who had never flown before, almost ecstatic. He felt around left, looked around right, beside himself with excitement for a while.

Fan Debiao, however, was an old hand; having traveled north and south with Big Gourd for years, he had at least accumulated some knowledge. At that moment, he was circulating a stack of photocopies among everyone, all containing introductions to the human geography and customs of Tibet.

"Everyone, you must read this material thoroughly before reaching your destination. Tibetan customs are numerous and very particular, and on top of that, the people are fiercely spirited and quite robust. If you accidentally violate their taboos, things could become complicated!"

Hearing Fan Debiao say this, Young Master Liu seriously began reading the material in his hands. The rules of the Tibetan people were indeed many, making his head spin. Such as sitting indoors: one must sit cross-legged and upright, never stretching out one's legs with the soles facing others, and never looking around. Receiving a gift required using both hands. While eating, one should not stuff one's mouth full, nor chew audibly or slurp drinks. When drinking butter tea, the guest should wait until the host presents the cup with both hands before accepting and drinking, and so on.

In his impression, Tibetans were generally perceived as near-savage outsiders: galloping horses, animal-hide coats, curved knives, roasted yak meat—these were all characteristic features of Tibetans. To be honest, Young Master Liu didn't feel entirely confident dealing with such a people, so he read with extra diligence. By the time the plane landed, he had practically memorized the information.

Yang Weidong chatted intermittently with Fan Debiao and Cai Qingchong; the two got along quite harmoniously. Only Scholar Jia remained by himself in a rather secluded corner, slowly unrolling the Hundred Tombs scroll, scrutinizing it again and again, afraid to miss some seemingly insignificant detail that could affect the entire situation.

As the flight attendant's gentle and sweet voice sounded, the plane landed smoothly in Lhasa, Tibet. After several hours in the air, everyone was quite weary. Fan Debiao had good connections here and many acquaintances; one phone call secured several rooms at a nearby Holiday Inn. Although it was their first time in this spectacular place, everyone succumbed to heavy eyelids. They barely got their bags into the rooms before collapsing into sleep.

The next morning, everyone woke up early and, judging by their refreshed spirits, had slept quite well. Fan Debiao told them to stay put for a day until the equipment and daily necessities he ordered arrived before they set off; there was no rush. Moreover, Tibet’s terrain was complex; without an experienced guide, some things would indeed be difficult to navigate.

As the saying goes, sharpening the axe doesn't delay the woodcutting. Young Master Liu gave a slight nod, understanding the wisdom.

Coincidentally, they were all in good spirits right now, and he was not the type to sit still. Rather than wasting a day cooped up in the hotel, he thought it better to go out for a walk and see the sights.

With that thought, he shared his idea with the others. Fan Debiao was not one to stay idle, and Cai Qingchong was a typical quiet type. Yang Weidong was steady and conventional but had truly never been to Tibet and wanted to feast his eyes. Only Scholar Jia—Young Master Liu wasn't sure about him at first, but he seemed unconcerned. When Young Master Liu brought it up, Scholar Jia agreed without hesitation.

The Holiday Inn was close to Red Hill. What exactly Red Hill was, they didn't really know. But when it came to one structure on Red Hill, its name was thunderous. It was none other than the Potala Palace.

Legend has it that the construction of the Potala Palace was inextricably linked to Songtsen Gampo, the thirty-second king of Tubo. It is said that 1,300 years ago, in the early 7th century, after Songtsen Gampo moved his capital to Lhasa, he specially constructed three nine-story buildings totaling one thousand rooms on Red Hill to welcome Princess Wencheng from the Tang Dynasty, naming it the Potala Palace.

The Potala Palace is a structure of stone and wood, with outer walls over two meters thick, the foundation driven directly into the bedrock. The entire wall body is built with granite blocks, rising dozens of meters high, reinforced by pouring molten iron into the joints at intervals, which increased the wall’s seismic resistance, making it solid and stable. The roofs and window eaves are wooden structures with projecting eaves and upturned corners, adorned with gilded copper tiles, using gilded dhvaja (victory banners), stupas, makaras, and garudas as ridge decorations. The glittering roofs employ the gable-and-hip style (xieshan shi) and the spire-top style (zuanjian shi), showing Han architectural characteristics. The walls beneath the eaves are decorated with gilded copper ornaments depicting the Eight Auspicious Symbols of Buddhism, strongly reflecting Tibetan Buddhist culture. The columns and beams are covered with vibrant murals and luxurious carvings. One side of the complex houses the king's chambers; the central palace has a stupa built on top; the other side is the harem. In the autumn season, the Potala Palace, entirely whitewashed, stood on Red Hill looking even more sacred and majestic, which is why Tibetan people call it the "White Palace."

"It's magnificent!" Young Master Liu looked up at the undulating complex of buildings in the distance, sighing in awe.

"Debiao, can we go inside and see this Potala Palace?"

Fan Debiao shook his head. "It's true, coming to Tibet and not seeing the Potala Palace would be a wasted trip. But we really can't go in today."

"Why not? Isn't this a tourist attraction?" Hearing this, Young Master Liu was slightly surprised. He hadn't seen a tourist attraction that wasn't trying to make money.

"Today is a religious festival for the Tibetans; everyone is inside for worship, so it's closed to us travelers," Fan Debiao explained with a hint of helplessness.

"Oh, I see!" Young Master Liu nodded dejectedly. Behind him, Cai Qingchong and Yang Weidong also lost their interest.

"How about this?!" Fan Debiao slapped his forehead. "I'll take you to wander through the Tibetan market. How about it? It should be even livelier than usual today; people from near and far are almost all coming to join the excitement."

"Will it be fun?" Young Master Liu looked at Fan Debiao with slight skepticism.

"Haha, since you've never been, you wouldn't know," Fan Debiao grinned widely. "Tibetans are warm and hospitable. Go take a look, and I guarantee you'll be satisfied. Maybe some young lady will take a shine to you."

"Take a shine to me? Are you kidding?" Young Master Liu felt a mix of laughter and embarrassment.

"You can't say for sure. The customs here are quite open; it’s common for girls to show affection to a young man they fancy during a festival. How about it, brother, feeling the stirrings of spring?" Fan Debiao winked, his expression full of teasing.

"Go on, go on, you fat nuisance. Get lost." Seeing Yang Weidong and the others behind him start laughing, Young Master Liu’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Come on, stop pretending to be prim," Fan Debiao scoffed. "Who doesn't know you have something going on with our boss, that great beauty Wang…"

But before he finished the sentence, Fan Debiao immediately clamped his mouth shut, as he clearly saw Young Master Liu’s face instantly darken.

"Young Master…" Fan Debiao tugged at the corner of his clothes.

"Young Master…" Seeing Young Master Liu remain silent, Fan Debiao grew anxious.

He had spoken too quickly just now, letting something slip unintentionally, but it had struck right at Young Master Liu's raw nerve. After all, Uncle Diao and Wang Feifei’s fates were still unknown!

"Young Master, don't worry. Feifei is blessed by heaven and will be fine. Besides, isn't her Grandpa Diao still around? With him there, what is there to fear?" Fan Debiao tried to comfort him.

"Alas!" Young Master Liu sighed. "Human affairs are unpredictable. Even Jackson and Zhong Kui died mysteriously in that strange place."

Recalling the terrifying ruins of the altar in the photograph, his heart trembled. These past few days, every time he thought of that scene, he felt as if an invisible pair of eyes was watching him from behind, following him like a shadow. That lingering darkness enveloped him moment by moment, growing tighter, almost suffocating him.

Could it be that in this place, a mysterious past truly awaited the destined person—him—to uncover it?

Or perhaps his destiny was already set, and one day, in some event, at some moment, he too would become a sacrifice to that mastermind, just like Jackson and the others?

And how exactly did Big Gourd die? Why were the complications of his premature aging exactly the same as what happened to Clay Man Zhang? The only difference was that Clay Man Zhang managed to get the antidote just before death: that wax pill. But Big Gourd was ill-fated and died prematurely.

The Book of Supreme Peace and Harmony (Taiping Qingling Shu)—this thing that haunted his every waking and sleeping moment like a dream—what secrets did it truly hide beneath its surface?

Why was he the only one chosen?

Uncle Diao, that sharp-featured, monkey-faced old man, was actually cold on the outside but warm on the inside; he had always treated him very well. And Wang Feifei, that beautiful and lovely girl, there had always been a faint affection between them.

It was just a pity that he hadn't yet told Uncle Diao: Old Man, thank you.

He hadn't yet told Wang Feifei: Feifei, I like you.

They had vanished... disappeared from this world.

Shaking his heavy head, Young Master Liu's thoughts were a chaotic mess, nearly causing him to faint. If Cai Qingchong hadn't been quick-handed and steady beside him, he surely would have tumbled down the mountainside unsteadily.

"Brother, are you alright?" Cai Qingchong gripped Young Master Liu's shoulder, frowning as he spoke.

"I'm... I'm fine," Young Master Liu struggled, shaking him off. But judging by his complexion, he still looked utterly dispirited.

Cai Qingchong shot Fan Debiao a look, clearly harboring strong opinions against the fat man who had ruined everyone's mood.

Just then, Scholar Jia, who was usually taciturn, broke the silence. "Little Fan, this Uncle Diao you mentioned, is he very capable?"

"That's for sure!" Hearing Scholar Jia's tone of doubt, Fan Debiao immediately bristled.

"I don't know Diao that well myself. But I know he is the undisputed master of the tomb-robbing circle in Hong Kong. Even our boss shows him great respect. He helped us a lot during the last expedition."

"Oh?" Scholar Jia seemed to recall something. "Do you happen to know this old Mr. Diao's name?"

"The 'Diao' from diao (sable/vicious), the 'De' from de (virtuous/respected), and the 'Yi' from one, two, three, four, five—Diao Deyii."

"Diao Deyii?" Upon hearing Fan Debiao's words, Scholar Jia's expression shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing as if deep in thought.

"What? Senior, you know Old Master Diao?" Fan Debiao asked, surprised.

"Heh heh," Scholar Jia showed a rare smile, stroking his silver beard. "Know him? More than just know him! Back in the day, Old Diao, Sima, and I were as close as brothers!"

Saying this, he let out a long sigh. "It's a pity that after parting ways in the South China Sea, Brother Sima perished in the lair of monsters, and we all scattered. I didn't expect Old Diao would still be in this line of work to this day!"

"Oh, so that's how it is!" Fan Debiao suddenly became animated. "Old Master Diao hasn't always been in this line of work. He opened an antique feng shui shop himself. It's just that this time, the special circumstances called him back into action."

"You said, will my female boss, who is with Old Master Diao, get into trouble?"

"I have over sixty percent confidence that nothing will happen!" Scholar Jia smiled. "Old Diao's skills are evident to all; in some respects, I can't even compare by flattering him. As long as it's not a catastrophe of cosmic proportions, he can absolutely escape unharmed. So, everyone, rest assured!"

With Scholar Jia's guarantee, the oppressive atmosphere among them immediately eased, and even the barrier between them and Scholar Jia gradually dissolved.

Especially Fan Debiao, who had already heaped praises upon the old master. After coaxing Young Master Liu into a better mood, the group continued on their way, striving to see the legendary lively market soon.