The kang in the room began to heat up gradually, and the long-unused sleeping surface started to give off wafts of dampness. That particular smell—the scent of dampness soaking through the paper covering the kang, mingled with the earthy aroma of the baked mud typical of the Northeast kangs—grew steadily heavier.

Zhou Huan noticed none of these external changes; his mind was consumed by a single question. Based on all available evidence, it seemed the Translator Long had studied the Quran. What could have been the purpose of his studying it? Firstly, having finally escaped the tomb with Zhou Huan, there was no need for him to delve into such texts; moreover, his livelihood didn't depend on it. Could it have been mere interest? Highly unlikely. Secondly, if his study of Persian was preparatory for returning to the tomb, what was his goal upon his return?

At that moment, the scene of Huang Quezi and his group entering the tomb flashed through Zhou Huan's mind. Suddenly, he remembered something: when Huang Quezi was on the verge of death, he seemed to have entrusted Translator Long with some dying wish. But that wish had been about raising an army and fighting the Japanese to the end. Could the issue be related to the gold from that time? Furthermore, since Translator Long understood some Persian, studying the Quran would be a form of self-improvement. Had he truly returned to the tomb...?

Zhou Huan’s mind raced through endless conjectures, exhausting every possibility until he settled on the most probable one: Translator Long had returned here. That ring—the catalyst for this entire affair—must be connected to him.

“Master Zhou, is the room warm enough yet!” Long Sheng asked, grinning broadly, his face smeared with soot, carrying an axe.

Zhou Huan replied politely, “It’s plenty warm. Don’t burn any more; the temperature is sufficient. We aren’t staying here long anyway; we’re about ready to leave.”

“Very well, I’ll pack up and put out the fire!” Long Sheng dropped the axe and turned to leave. When the axe hit the ground, there was no sharp clang of metal hitting the floor, but rather a dull thud—the sound of dense, heavy metal landing.

Zhou Huan was intensely curious. He picked up the axe from the ground; it felt significantly heavier than an ordinary one. Suddenly, Zhou Huan’s eyes lit up. He estimated that this axe weighed as much as three of a normal axe.

“Long Sheng, don’t trouble yourself just yet; I have something I need to ask you!” Zhou Huan called out directly to him.

Long Sheng wiped his face at the wellhead and then entered the room. “Yes, Master Zhou, what is it?”

“How many strange things have you encountered here that you recognize?” Zhou Huan avoided the direct question about the axe, choosing a roundabout approach.

Long Sheng pondered for a moment. “Here? Logically speaking, nothing is truly strange. I’m familiar with most of it; I’m used to it anyway. If there’s anything out of the ordinary, it’s just a few things. For one, all the metal items in our house are much heavier than normal. Also, my house seems taller than a regular house from the outside, but once you step inside, it feels just like any other house. Then there’s my grandfather—he was a very odd man. He loved to drink a little in the evenings, and after he was tipsy, he’d always go sit under the big tree on the back hill for a while before coming back to sleep.”

Hearing Long Sheng say this, a ripple went through Zhou Huan’s heart. His guesses might actually be correct. Holding the axe, he had Long Sheng test its weight again, then asked, “What does the weight of this axe feel like to you?”

“I don’t know. Father used to wonder about it too, but Grandpa wouldn't let anyone touch his things, especially these iron tools. I once asked them what the secret here was, but Grandpa wouldn't answer, and Father didn't know anything. So, I stopped bothering with it later. Anyway, we only come here once in a while, and we use it once.” Long Sheng was quite pragmatic, and he spoke plainly.

Zhou Huan lifted the axe again. “I’m telling you, this is solid gold!”

“What?” Long Sheng’s eyes went wide at the statement. He looked at Zhou Huan, then back at the axe, asking in disbelief, “Master Zhou, how can you be sure this is gold?”

“You can analyze the weight. The density ratio between gold and iron of the same volume is about two and a half to one. If you use an axe often, you’d know this one weighs about three times as much as a normal iron axe. Look.” As he spoke, Zhou Huan brought a spot where the core was exposed near the axe head to Long Sheng’s view.

Long Sheng looked down at the axe. It was odd; he noticed a seam on the outer shell that looked like a latch. He tapped it gently with an iron chisel, and a deep fissure appeared in the axe head’s casing. With a hard wrench, crack—the outer shell split in two, revealing the solid gold core in its true form.

“What?” Long Sheng couldn’t believe his eyes. He had been handling this axe for nearly thirty years, and now it had suddenly transformed into priceless gold. No one could explain such an event.

Seeing this result, Zhou Huan immediately fixed Translator Long as the primary point of entry for solving this matter. Then, the two of them dismantled all the iron implements in the courtyard. Each one was wrapped only in a thin skin of iron. This included the crossbar on the door, though the smaller items certainly were not solid gold inside. All the gold, piled together, amounted to a heap large enough for ten men to spend extravagantly for a lifetime, certainly enough to equip a reinforced brigade.

“Hahahaha! I never thought my life would allow me to strike it rich like this!” Long Sheng, initially stunned by the sight of the gold, instantly shifted to overwhelming joy. He grabbed Zhou Huan’s arms tightly with both hands, exclaiming excitedly, “If I worked in archaeology for a hundred lifetimes, I couldn’t amass this much wealth. I’ve hit the jackpot now!”

Zhou Huan let out a short, dry laugh. “Boy, this fortune does not belong to you. It involves too many matters. The most direct consequence is that if this gold isn't used correctly, this paranormal incident won't be resolved completely, and you will be the first to die.”

“What? Really?” Long Sheng, who had been carried away by the sight of the gold, was naturally unwilling to yield when Zhou Huan said this. At this moment, he truly believed this gold was left to him by his grandfather.

“You absolutely cannot keep this gold!” Zhou Huan warned Long Sheng again.

Long Sheng’s features, previously resembling those of a collaborator, instantly soured. His eyes flared with anger, clutching the pile of gold fiercely, he raved, “Master Zhou Huan, I respect you as a master, but you can’t see gold and immediately try to skim some off the top, can you?”

“I won’t. These things aren’t mine; I won’t do that. This gold belongs to its rightful owner,” Zhou Huan remained calm.

Long Sheng burst into maniacal laughter. “Fine! If that’s the case, we can split it this way. It’s found money, so finders get a share, right? I’ll give you three parts. How about that?”

Zhou Huan waved his hand. “Forget it; I don’t want a single part. If you don’t believe me, then wager your own life on it and see if what I, Zhou Huan, say proves true.” After speaking, Zhou Huan ignited a talisman in his hand. “This is a Ghost-Repelling Talisman. I’m placing it on you. This talisman can handle ordinary spirits without issue. If you don’t believe me, feel free to test it. But I’ll be upfront: if you ever genuinely find yourself in peril, I, Zhou Huan, will absolutely not intervene. Take care of yourself.” Having said this, Zhou Huan turned to leave.

Long Sheng suddenly let out a mocking laugh. “Don’t try to scare me with your spooky stuff! I don’t believe you. Go ahead and leave! Keep the gold then…”

Before Long Sheng could finish his sentence, a creaking sound echoed from the ceiling above the kang, as if something was about to snap. With a loud kacha, something plummeted down violently from the roof. When the object struck the heated kang, both Zhou Huan and Long Sheng were stunned dumbfounded. A massive hole was smashed into the kang, extinguishing the embers in the flue.

“This…” Long Sheng was reeling from the sudden reversal of fortune. Zhou Huan’s warning had barely concluded, and before he could even deal with the gold on the floor, the expected incident had occurred. Long Sheng and Zhou Huan slowly edged closer to the fallen object, eager to see what had crashed down.