Zhou Huan looked at Long Sheng's demeanor and had some thoughts. He then chuckled, "You actually have a serious side, kid. But you still need to help me make sense of what's written above. Otherwise, nobody is getting the female corpse's hand back. Every single detail in this tomb chamber is a clue to finding the hands."

Suddenly, the color drained from Long Sheng's face, flushing bright red. "I'm terribly sorry. I am indeed Uyghur, but I only know how to read it. I'd genuinely have to put in some effort to look up the meaning, because every language has elements that are obscure or carry deep significance, including Uyghur. Back then, the language must have held a different, deeper meaning. Furthermore, being inscribed in a tomb chamber, it certainly relates to the burial rites. Given that, this text must possess a certain level of professional expertise, so I need time. You all should start copying it down first!"

Zhou Huan frowned deeply, his face contorted in anger, hearing the boy ramble on. He barked, "You little bastard, stop holding out on us! Your Uncle Zhou is drunk today and can't afford any games. No matter how you play it, you just copy it down. No one is helping you; do your own work."

Then, Zhou Huan walked away with his hands clasped behind his back, Xia He following closely behind him. They left in a vehicle with Mr. Lao Wang. Present at the scene were the police, Mr. Lao Wang's men, and the archaeologists, each busy with their respective tasks. Only Long Sheng remained, pen in hand, sitting on the edge of the coffin lid, looking up to transcribe the calligraphy on the ceiling.

"Brother Huan, did you figure something out?" Xia He asked Zhou Huan in the car.

Zhou Huan remained silent for a long time, then sighed. "I'm afraid her hand was stolen by some grave robber. Chances are, there was something significant on her hand. What we need to do now is confirm the identity of the tomb owner first, and then determine the reason why her hand went missing." As he spoke, Zhou Huan chuckled to himself, "It's strange, isn't it? With a whole corpse, why pick one hand to steal? It's truly vexing."

"That's true. If that hand is brought back, it might just rot away, losing all its archaeological value. Or perhaps, the body was interred without a hand to begin with?" Xia He raised this doubt.

Zhou Huan immediately countered, "Doubtful. I examined the corpse's hand just now; it was definitely yanked off forcefully, and it happened after burial. There are a few reasons: First, the fracture point on the hand shows clear tearing marks, and the bone connections are fragmented into powder of a consistent quality. Furthermore, there are even nail fragments left behind from the act of tearing the hand away, and judging by the timeline, they seem to be contemporary with the corpse. Second, there's the matter of the tomb chamber itself; it clearly shows signs of being pried open, not recent disturbances from when we moved the lid. That likely happened quite a while ago. Moreover, this female corpse doesn't look like it was treated and then air-dried. I get the sense the body instantaneously desiccated, preserving it from such an ancient era until now—that's something I haven't fully grasped yet and requires further analysis and observation."

Zhou Huan’s explanation left Xia He utterly confused. Finally, with no recourse, Xia He said, "It's really odd. When did Brother Huan become an expert in archaeology?"

"This isn't an archaeological problem. I have to look at geomancy and tombs from time to time anyway, so this is just a convenient overlap. I’m just offering my personal assessment. But I still feel like something crucial is being overlooked in this whole affair. Also, there's a clear discrepancy between the specific timeline of the body and the timeline of the tomb chamber—I noticed all that in the archaeology team’s notes." As Zhou Huan spoke, he lit a cigarette, the smoke curling and drifting out of the car window.

Xia He glanced at the cigarette in Zhou Huan's hand. "Brother Huan, smoke less. It's better for your health."

"Have you ever seen me smoking when there's nothing to worry about? I only light one up when I’m deep in thought, to relax."

"Smoking helps you relax? Really!" Xia He laughed, even as she spoke.

The car pulled to a stop at the entrance of Fushoutang. Zhou Huan got out and walked inside with his head bowed. As soon as he entered the main hall, he saw Dongzi and Da Luobo sitting there, shelling vegetables.

"Brother, Sister Xia He, you’re back. Dinner will be ready soon. Those other guys went out on a job; they said an old woman died in the Wuyingzi Village on the outskirts, and they're handling it," Dongzi greeted Zhou Huan immediately upon seeing him enter.

Zhou Huan nodded, went upstairs to put his things away, and then came back down to help shell vegetables. He then called out, "Xia He, come down and help cook. It's just the few of us; Xiaoling must have eaten at the hotel. After dinner, we’ll watch the moon with Dongzi. I heard him reciting poetry yesterday and he seemed inspired; let's see if he has any more ink left in him today."

"Hehe, Brother, I was just making that up back then! It's because Da Luobo is here!" Dongzi grinned, glancing at Da Luobo, seemingly unaware of how much he currently adored Da Luobo.

Da Luobo maintained a serious expression. "What’s so funny? If our poems are good, they’re good, not 'making it up.' It just proves we have talent. I’ll compose another poem for Brother Huan and Sister Xia He later."

"Oh, alright! Alright!" Dongzi sounded exceptionally simple and sincere this time.

Zhou Huan smiled from the side. It was unavoidable; after all, these were his brothers who were as close as blood. Seeing his brother so completely devoted to his woman made him genuinely happy.

Working together, everything moved quickly, and dinner was ready in no time. After eating, dusk was settling in. The last remnants of the sunset still clung to the horizon. A slight evening breeze stirred the dry branches of the willows by the roadside. A crescent moon in the sky, reflecting the fiery red clouds, appeared reddish-white—another rare moment of the sun and moon sharing the sky. Truly unusual!

"Ah! Sunset, you are like the artistry of the earth, a gift from the heavens, letting us feel the charm of nature, the mythology of the world. Watching you makes my heart reach ultimate beauty, because I have my Da Luobo!" Dongzi was truly stunning with this outburst, what he said made everyone present break out in a cold sweat. The beginning was decent enough, but what did the sunset have to do with Da Luobo? He could have called him by his proper name, but he jumped straight to his nickname.

Da Luobo, however, felt a sweet satisfaction in his heart, his eyes slightly closed, savoring the meaning in Dongzi's poem.

Seeing these two cling to each other again, Zhou Huan glanced back at Xia He, then at Dongzi, and could only whisper into Xia He's ear, "Let's go out. We shouldn't be the 'two-hundred-watt light bulbs' here, let them have their privacy!"

As they spoke, Zhou Huan and Xia He tiptoed out of Fushoutang and into the backyard, looking up at the moon. Indeed, it was a beautifully bright moon.

"Brother Huan, do you really think there are no living things on the moon?" Xia He asked a scientific question.

Zhou Huan replied, "There are. I feel there are, but humanity's current technology simply can't detect them."

Xia He pointed at a dark spot on the moon. "Look at that spot—it looks like several perfect shapes. The area around the moon is haloed with red light. It’s so beautiful!"

"Yes, it’s rare to see the sun and moon together, and to see the moon glowing with ruddy purity—it’s quite exceptional!" As Zhou Huan said this, a sudden cold sweat broke out on his forehead; it was as if he had remembered something.

The sun had now fully set. Except for the crimson light emanating from the moon, there was no halo reflecting light from the sun whatsoever. There was a distinct break in the middle, suggesting the light was coming solely from the moon. This realization shocked Zhou Huan, and the sweat on his forehead began to roll down in torrents.

"Brother Huan, what's wrong? Why are you sweating so much all of a sudden?" Concerned, Xia He reached out to touch Zhou Huan’s forehead, which felt as cold as zero-degree ice. Xia He immediately started shouting, "Dongzi, hurry out here! See what’s wrong with your brother! Call those other people!"

Zhou Huan began to tremble uncontrollably, the cold sweat increasing until his clothes were soaked. His body slowly began to buckle at the knees. Suddenly, Zhou Huan's vision went black, and he collapsed onto the ground, seemingly having lost consciousness.

While Dongzi frantically made calls to Stone Bingyuan and the others, Xia He struggled to pull Zhou Huan toward the house. Meanwhile, the crimson moon in the sky continued to shine its scarlet light, conceding not an inch of color.

Zhou Huan was gasping in Dongzi's arms, his body still drenched in icy sweat, as Stone Bingyuan and the others rushed back.