Zhou Huan found Wang Kuaidao’s words hard to believe. He stepped forward to examine the remains himself, scattering some cinnabar yellow wine over the bones. Sure enough, a fissure appeared on the skeleton's leg. Based solely on that injury, Zhou Huan confidently declared it must be Old Cripple Huang. He excitedly searched the rest of the remains, yet he could find no evidence of the hand-sized gash in the chest that the skeleton should have. Instantly, Zhou Huan's excitement vanished, replaced by sheer despair. Only then did he realize the injured leg on the corpse was the right one, whereas Old Cripple Huang’s injury was on the left.

“Master Zhou, did you find anything?” Wang Kuaidao asked bluntly.

Zhou Huan shook his head and murmured softly, “This person died at the age of sixty-four. The injury to the foot was inflicted by external force when he was fifty-nine. He suffered from illness when he died, eighty percent likely liver disease. Look at the bone veins in his liver meridian—they are all yellow-black patterns. Age is determined by the bone grain, much like the growth rings on a tree.” Hearing this, Wang Kuaidao crouched down, staring at Zhou Huan in astonishment. He had never imagined that his advanced instruments were no match for Zhou Huan’s simple glance. His respect for Zhou Huan transformed into utter reverence.

Zhou Huan, however, turned and walked away, slowly approaching his vehicle. He saw Xiao Si squatting in front of the car, smoking a cigarette. Zhou Huan lit one up himself and asked Xiao Si, “Is there anything left undone between you and your brother?”

“Yes, we haven’t left a seed for the Gu family yet!”

Zhou Huan found himself completely without recourse upon hearing this answer; it was simply human nature. Who could guarantee eternal safety? One never knew when one might suddenly pass away (Baga), so leaving an heir was always essential.

Subsequently, Zhou Huan sank into his own silence. Suddenly, beside the skeleton they had just examined, others discovered a large collection of remains. These skeletons were laid out with striking regularity, accompanied by numerous shattered coffins, some stone and some wood.

Zhou Huan rushed after Xiao Si to the site and asked, “How many skeletons are there?”

“Around a dozen or so!” someone in the pit called back loudly.

Without waiting for the others, Zhou Huan climbed down the ladder into the large excavation pit. He counted the skeletons: sixteen in total. Furthermore, every single skeleton bore different marks of injury. Most bizarrely, one skeleton had a flying dagger embedded in it—a dagger that looked strangely familiar.

“Huh? Isn’t this Old Cripple Huang’s throwing knife? How could…” Zhou Huan suddenly recalled how Old Cripple Huang had incessantly cursed Blind Liang while tomb raiding. From his expression, it was clear Huang wasn't just after the treasures; he seemed to derive a sense of satisfaction and a flicker of hatred from the act of revenge.

This immediately sparked Zhou Huan’s suspicion. He suspected a pre-existing feud between Cripple Huang and Blind Liang. Given Old Cripple Huang’s personality, apart from greed, he wouldn’t proactively harm anyone. However, if someone provoked him, he would certainly never let it go. Judging by the throwing knife, it seemed to be Huang’s technique; the depth of the blade embedded in the bone indicated a skill level few possessed. Moreover, the skeleton outside wasn't Old Cripple Huang. It appeared these remains belonged to the Liang family, especially since they had unearthed half of the stone tablet before finding these bones.

“Master Zhou, my investigation is complete. These remains were all victims of harm, but the cause of death for most wasn't murder; they died of old age. However, this part is strange: every deceased person shows injuries to varying degrees—fissures on their limbs or bodies, fractures everywhere.” In that short time, Wang Kuaidao had analyzed the condition of the bodies.

Zhou Huan examined the skeletons again closely. “The only skeleton here that was murdered is the one with the knife embedded in it—a fatal stab directly into the heart and lungs.”

“That’s true. Among so many remains, only this one was killed. Is there some hidden story here?” Wang Kuaidao looked puzzled.

As the two exchanged glances, the archaeological team made another discovery: beneath the skeleton with the knife, they found a wooden chest filled with a large stack of ledgers and several moldy, yellowed books.

Xiao Si carefully propped up the chest with tools, thankfully keeping its contents intact. Zhou Huan began sifting through the box, and the very first booklet he pulled out was titled The Genealogy of the Liang Family. He opened it; the first entry listed the imperial lineage of the Liang Dynasty from the late Tang period. This branch had later migrated to the Northeast. Unfortunately, by the generation of Liang Dongming, the genealogy simply ended, with a note at the back stating: “The Liang Family vanishes from here, inscribed by Monk Baoyuan of the Great Song Dynasty!”

“Master Zhou, it seems Heaven intended to wipe out the Liang family,” Wang Kuaidao commented, looking at the booklet in Zhou Huan’s hand.

Zhou Huan handed the small booklet to Xiao Si for safekeeping. Flipping further, he found a yellowish ledger that seemed stuck together; many pages were impossible to open. He managed to carefully unfold the very last page, which separated surprisingly easily. Brushing off the caked dirt, he saw several entries. What drew Zhou Huan’s attention most was one specific debt: “Cripple Huang, owes the Liang Family four taels of gold. With compounding interest, the debt is now three hundred and eighty taels of gold.” A note followed: Debt outstanding.

So, Cripple Huang actually owed the Liang family money! No wonder he had been so vicious towards the Liang family members; the interest alone had compounded so heavily. This incident was clearly more complicated than it seemed. If they couldn’t find Cripple Huang, this whole affair would remain inexplicable.

Wang Kuaidao sighed heavily, crouching on the ground. “Alas, it’s truly troubling. It’s a pity these people are all dead; there is no one left to corroborate the story. Where are we supposed to find evidence?”

As he spoke, Zhou Huan pulled out some items from the Persian merchants from the wooden chest. Each item appeared incredibly precious, priceless. Another ledger meticulously recorded the Liang family’s expenditures. Most entries detailed dealings with Persian merchants, but the final entries showed an outgoing payment of tens of thousands of taels of silver, followed by another large sum of tens of thousands of gold taels.

“Strange, where did all this money go? Why did so much leave the estate? Were they truly facing the ruin of their clan?” Zhou Huan’s mind raced with possibilities. In the end, he meticulously noted down everything from the ledgers. Flipping further yielded nothing more except some old photographs from the era. It wasn't unusual for a wealthy family like the Liangs to have photos from the war years; they could easily afford such luxuries.

Zhou Huan picked up the yellowed old photos. Only two figures were in them: one with a ferocious appearance, clearly someone who would never have heirs, his facial features harsh; the other also had a stern face but carried the look of a scoundrel. Below the picture was the date, and on the back, two names were written. One was one of the last names listed in the Liang family genealogy, but the other name especially caught Zhou Huan’s attention: “Liang Xiaqiang,” and the other was “Liang Zhihuang.”

Judging by their physiognomy, the two men looked related, certainly family. But the features of one of them caused Zhou Huan a profound shock.

“Cripple Huang!” The photograph in Zhou Huan’s hand actually showed Cripple Huang’s likeness. Could he also be a member of the Liang family? If everyone lying here was Liang family, why was one of them stabbed? Did he hold an immense grudge against the Liangs, or was there another reason?

A rush of questions flooded Zhou Huan’s mind. His expression fell. He rummaged through the wooden chest again, but found nothing else.

“Master Zhou, what’s wrong?” Wang Kuaidao asked.

Zhou Huan didn’t answer. He simply sat on the ground, staring blankly at the contents of the box, unable to extract any useful clues. Based on the scene, it felt like the entire affair was either facing a new beginning or was merely the prelude to a new story. Zhou Huan fell silent.