"I know it, I know it, I finally see the secret of these jars," Lu Zong exclaimed in astonishment, "I am so clever!" But Ma Xiong, who had been in a state of excitement, immediately froze. He never expected Lu Zong to be so shamelessly quick to claim discovery, when he was the one who found it first. This fellow truly understood things when he shouldn't and was oblivious when he should be clear—it was impossible to tell if he was pretending to be confused or genuinely confused.

However, he didn't press the matter. After all, discovering this held no tangible reward, so he didn't bother fighting Lu Zong for the credit that should have been his. Perhaps Lu Zong sensed something too, as his face flushed slightly. He had spoken too quickly out of excitement, and now felt a bit embarrassed. But he quickly composed himself; having experienced such things often, he no longer cared much about saving face. He continued, "I have a feeling that if we arrange these jars in order from the fewest vertical lines to the most, we will surely reveal a more complete picture. Shall we try?"

Before Lu Zong finished speaking, Ma Xiong was already moving to sort the items. Lu Zong smiled helplessly, then crouched down to help Ma Xiong sort the jars on the floor. Finally, after everyone was completely exhausted, he managed to separate the jars and arrange them in ascending order, with the illustrated side facing him.

He stepped back a few paces and carefully scrutinized the new picture formed by the arrangement of the ceramic jars. Indeed, another scene unfolded before him: a vast desert under a scorching sun, with two vultures circling overhead, searching for corpses lost in the sand. The surroundings were barren, with only one prominent feature—he looked closer and was startled to discover a volcano erupting from the desert floor. His vision swam, and his mind grew even more muddled. He was certain he had seen this volcano before, but where and when remained elusive. He stopped thinking about it, focusing again on the image, hoping to find more clues.

He saw an old man at the foot of the mountain, staring at the flames erupting from the summit with terror in his eyes. As he looked closely at the peak of the fire, he was suddenly amazed to see what looked like the shape of a small child resting atop the flames. He leaned closer and finally saw the object clearly: an infant still wrapped in swaddling clothes.

Instantly, memories flooded back like water from a lake—the mural he had seen in the Queen’s tomb! The scene was almost identical, except the cavalry troop depicted there had been replaced by an old man in this arrangement. He squinted at the image of the elder. Because the ceramic was so ancient, the details were fuzzy, but based on the figure’s build and white hair, one person materialized in his mind: the old man he had met in the tomb.

He asked with some confusion, "Do you remember this picture? We've seen it before." Ma Xiong answered without hesitation, "Yes, yes, we saw it in the Queen’s tomb. But what puzzles me is why the image showing the child erupting was a cavalry troop back then, but here it’s just an old man. What’s going on?"

Lu Zong glanced at the picture again, searching for any subtle differences, perhaps suggesting this wasn't the Queen's scene after all. But no matter how he cross-referenced the image with his memory, he could find no anomaly; it was identical to the vision in his mind. He returned his focus to the old man. Suddenly, he seemed to recall something, and turning to Ma Xiong with a serious expression, he said, "Ma Xiong, do you remember Old Man Qian from Cao’s tomb? I think this old fellow is that same Old Man Qian. If only he were here, we could ask him directly."

But Ma Xiong replied with equal seriousness, "That doesn't fit. Old Man Qian said he only met the Queen when he was wounded on the battlefield and she took care of him. He couldn't have seen her before that."

Lu Zong seemed to have an epiphany, looking at Ma Xiong, then slapping his forehead. "I know, it must be this way."

Seeing Lu Zong’s mysterious and excited expression, Ge Mei frowned and asked, "What exactly are you two talking about? What Queen, what Old Man Qian? I don't understand a word!"

Ma Xiong chuckled, "Kid, don't mess around here. It seems we’ve stumbled upon a major clue. Following this thread should lead us to the truth. When we solve it, you can return to your own body too. It benefits us both, a mutually agreeable outcome. Just stay put and don't cause trouble."

Han Chong could only stomp off dejectedly, staring silently at the infant in swaddling clothes. Perhaps it was innate female affection for children, as the only thing that truly held her interest was the baby depicted on the jar, her eyes never leaving the infant.

Ma Xiong continued talking with Lu Zong. Lu Zong said, "I don't think this picture is only slightly different; there must be much more to uncover. Let's look closer, see what the real difference is." With that, his gaze shifted from Ma Xiong back to the image on the jars, studying it with intense interest. Ma Xiong, seeing Lu Zong so serious, realized he couldn't afford to relax either, so he too stared intently at the jars.

Ge Mei, who had been silently watching the jars, suddenly spoke up, sounding agitated and surprised. She exclaimed in an astonished tone, "No, no, how can this be? There must be something strange going on." She scratched her head, feeling goosebumps break out all over her body.

When Lu Zong and Ma Xiong heard Han Chong speak, they knew she must have noticed something amiss and quickly asked, "What is it? Tell us. What’s wrong?" His gaze, usually somewhat roguish, settled on Ge Mei with a gentle, affectionate warmth that made her slightly uncomfortable. But she couldn't afford to mind his current antics; the priority was voicing her suspicion and understanding what was happening. She replied, "I’ve been here so long, how could I not know the pictures on these jars? When I have nothing else to do, I stare at the patterns. While I can see the desert on these jars, I've studied every single image meticulously before, leaving nothing out. How could I possibly not have seen this infant? But you know, when I studied these jars before, I never once saw a depiction of an infant. Why would it appear so bizarrely on these jars today? Oh, and I just counted—there were only seventeen jars usually here, but today there’s an extra one out of nowhere! It was seventeen this morning, but now there are eighteen. How do you explain that?" She stared at them with curious eyes, hoping for a comforting explanation.

Hearing this, both men felt a chill run down their spines. After all, anyone would be frightened by such an occurrence, especially something so bizarre. Just as nervousness began to set in, they caught sight of Ge Mei, who had pinned all her hope on them. This gave them immense encouragement, as a man is most inspired when a woman looks to him as a savior.

He made his voice as magnetic as possible, replying in a rather charming baritone, "Perhaps it’s because you usually use one jar as a chamber pot, taking it out during the day. So you counted seventeen, but today you forgot to take one out, leaving eighteen."

Han Chong shook her head vehemently. "No, no, no! I’ve studied them closely before. Even if I took one out, I could still count the right number. I wouldn't miscount! It couldn’t be that." Ge Mei nodded vigorously, shaking her head like a rattle drum to refute Lu Zong’s idea. Lu Zong lowered his head, thoroughly embarrassed, and began closely examining the jars again.

Suddenly, he noticed that the center of one jar was smeared with a large amount of red liquid. He quickly looked down—sure enough, the illustrated section was now covered in fresh blood. When he had arranged them just moments ago, he hadn't seen any bloodstains on any of the jars. These jars were definitely strange. Pointing at the bloodstain, he exclaimed, "Everyone, look! What does this blood on the jar tell us?"

Ma Xiong sounded skeptical. "Bloodstains? Impossible! You must be seeing things. I meticulously counted these jars when we laid them out; there were no signs of blood at all. None of us have bled, so how could there be blood?"

Lu Zong knelt down, picked up the jar, and examined it closely. Aside from the blood covering the image, nothing else had changed. However, a different thought struck him: when he had been arranging them, he distinctly remembered one jar being more than half again as large as the others, but now he couldn’t find it. Did these jars shrink and grow as they pleased?

That seemed impossible. He let out a small, dry laugh, ready to continue searching for answers.