This piece of yellowed silk was the treasure map. Wang Guan had found it next to several pirates who had died stabbing each other. At the time, he hadn't paid much attention, but upon closer inspection, he immediately realized this piece of silk might be the most valuable thing aboard the pirate ship. The reason he said "might" was because Wang Guan wasn't entirely certain if the treasure described in the map was still buried there.

“So you’re not even sure if the map is real, yet you talk about great riches,” Yu Feibai scoffed, though his movements were quick as he snatched the silk, carefully spreading it out on the coffee table to examine it closely.

The silk was old, having gathered dust for a long time, causing the ink lines on the map to fade slightly, but they were still quite discernible, especially two characters at the top, which were exceptionally clear and prominent.

“Wufeng?”

Yu Feibai read the characters aloud, a hint of confusion in his voice: “What does that mean? The location of the treasure?”

The others leaned in to look. The silk depicted numerous lines, resembling waves, alongside scattered islands. Indeed, marked with a red 'X' on one of these islands, presumably the burial spot. The problem was, they had absolutely no recollection of the islands or the general topography shown on the map.

“I knew you weren't being entirely benevolent.”

After scrutinizing it for a long while, Yu Feibai gave up guessing and grumbled, “You claim to be offering me great fortune, but what you really mean is that I should help decipher this sea chart.”

“Many hands make light work,” Wang Guan chuckled. “Ancient maps differ somewhat from modern ones, and charts drawn privately often have a degree of subjectivity. Moreover, given the vastness of the Chinese seas, finding the island depicted on this map will certainly not be an easy task.”

“Easy or not aside,”

At this point, Yu Feibai frowned. “What concerns me more right now is whether someone has already dug up the treasure. Even if it hasn't been found, if it’s less valuable than the treasure on the Su family’s island, why should I bother searching? It wouldn't be worth the trouble.”

“Your worries are superfluous,” Wang Guan replied with a smile. “Those pirates weren't fools. If the treasure on the map was worth less than what they already possessed, why would they fight each other so fiercely to keep it?”

“That does make sense.”

Yu Feibai relaxed slightly, pondering, “Then this is rather interesting. But who buried the treasure marked on this map? It feels like it must have some significant background.”

“It does have a significant background,” Wang Guan murmured. “Judging by the pirates' attire, they should be from the Ming Dynasty…”

“Ming Dynasty pirates.”

Yu Feibai’s eyes lit up: “The Zheng family? Zheng Zhilong, the father of Koxinga?”

“You’re thinking too much,” Wang Guan said with a helpless smile. “Koxinga followed his father’s path, later accepted amnesty from the court, and ultimately occupied Taiwan, establishing his own small dynasty that lasted several generations. Any gold or silver treasures they amassed would surely be reserved for their descendants, not buried.”

“That’s true too.” Yu Feibai considered this, then countered, “Then tell me, whose treasure is marked on the map?”

“When we mention Ming Dynasty pirates, it doesn't necessarily mean pirates from the late Ming period.”

At this moment, Wang Guan smiled. “Although the founding emperor of the Ming, Zhu Yuanzhang, possessed a somewhat parochial mindset, and suffered greatly at the hands of Zhang Shicheng—a pirate and salt smuggler—while fighting for the throne, he held pirates in deep disdain and ultimately enacted the national policy forbidding even a single plank from leaving the sea.”

“But this policy was nullified after Zhu Di usurped the throne and became the Yongle Emperor, which led to the magnificent achievement of Zheng He’s seven voyages to the West. It’s a shame those voyages were merely to display imperial prestige and didn't evolve into large-scale maritime trade; what a waste.”

Wang Guan shook his head and continued, “After the seven voyages, the strong emperors like Yongle and Xuande died, and the throne passed to Xuande’s son—the one responsible for the Tumu Crisis. After that disaster, the loyal nobility and generals of the Ming dynasty were finished; the civil officials, who had been suppressed by Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Di for decades, finally gained the upper hand…”

“As you know, civil officials are masters of saying one thing while doing another. Once they grasped real power, they began to oppose imperial authority. On the surface, they clamored that ancestral laws must not change, denouncing voyages overseas as a drain on resources and vehemently supporting Zhu Yuanzhang's 'no plank leaves the sea' policy. In reality, who didn't know that behind them lay vast smuggling syndicates?”

Wang Guan spoke with disdain. “These people wouldn't even leave the scraps after feasting on the whole meal, which naturally aroused the resentment of others. So, some decided to engage in risk-free ventures, turning to piracy.”

“Consequently, the mid-Ming period saw piracy reach its peak; it was like weeds—one patch was eradicated, only for another to sprout, even colluding with Wokou pirates to ravage the southeastern coast.”

At this point, Wang Guan chuckled lightly. “It was only later that the legendary tale emerged: 'To be enfeoffed as marquis through the efforts of Yu Long and Qi Hu is not my desire; I only wish for the seas to be calm.’”

“Stop going off on tangents! What is the main point? What’s the key?” Yu Feibai urged. “Are you suggesting this treasure map belonged to some great pirate from the mid-Ming era?”

“Possibly.”

Wang Guan stopped playing coy and asked with a smile, “Do you know Wang Zhi?”

“Wang Zhi?”

Yu Feibai blinked, musing thoughtfully. “The great eunuch during the Chenghua era of Emperor Xianzong, the notorious director of the Western Depot? He seems to be the prototype for Yu Huatian in the recently popular film Flying Swords of Dragon Gate…”

“Who told you about him?” Wang Guan retorted impatiently. “Since you’re familiar with history, you should know there were two Wang Zhis in the mid-Ming period: one was the great eunuch, and the other was the great pirate.”

“Hehe, just kidding,” Yu Feibai said, his face lighting up with sudden realization. “The moment you mentioned it, I remembered! Wang Zhi, the great pirate during the Jiajing reign of the Ming Dynasty, also known as Wufeng, styled as the Master of Wufeng Ships. Because his power was too immense, he was lured into a trap and killed by Hu Zongxian, the Minister of War at the time. However, it was his death that led to the pirate fleets losing their leader; no one submitted to the others, ultimately resulting in the Wokou chaos.”

“Is this really Wang Zhi’s treasure map?”

In his excitement, Yu Feibai grew doubtful again. “Although he died, he still had godchildren and subordinates. Even if they didn't respect each other, they could at least divide his power and wealth, right?”

“Who knows,” Wang Guan spread his hands. “The map is here anyway, and based on the characters ‘Wufeng’ on it, I suspect it belongs to Wang Zhi, the Master of Wufeng Ships. Whether it is or not depends on whether you are willing to go verify it.”

“Kao! I despise you,” Yu Feibai looked conflicted, appearing utterly torn.

“Foolish,”

Just then, Tang Qinghua offered a suggestion from the side. “The ocean is vast; even with a map, pinpointing the exact location won't be easy. So, you should take the map back to the capital, find detailed maritime records, and compare them slowly. Once you find similar features and narrow down the general vicinity, it won’t be too late to return and search for the treasure.”

“That’s right.”

Wang Guan agreed with a smile. “Then you can use the excuse of searching for shipwrecks to quietly visit the island marked with the red X. If there’s treasure, bring it back; if not, forget about it.”

“What do you mean, just forget about it?” Yu Feibai glared. “If I search diligently for a long time only to find the treasure is non-existent, you must compensate me for my losses—including lost work time, labor costs, and emotional distress fees…”

“Then never mind,” Wang Guan said dismissively. “Search if you want, or don’t.”

As he spoke, Wang Guan stood up and called out, “Xiao Qiao, go fetch your brother; we’re heading to Jinyang to visit.”

“It’s about time,”

Qiao Yu nodded with a smile, gathered Beiye, and left with Wang Guan, leaving Yu Feibai mired in indecision over whether or not to pursue this treasure.

Setting aside Yu Feibai’s internal struggle, Wang Guan and his party were already boarding the overnight flight from Hucheng to Jinyang. After about two hours, they smoothly arrived at Jinyang Airport.

However, by the time they reached Jinyang, it was already very late. Following Qiao Yu’s advice, everyone checked into a nearby hotel, planning to officially visit her family the next day.

The next morning, Wang Guan and Beiye groggily awoke. Led by Qiao Yu, they arrived at a bustling noodle shop. Jinyang is renowned as the capital of flour-based foods, boasting a long history, a huge variety of noodle snacks, meticulous ingredient selection, and fine craftsmanship, truly representing the pinnacle of Chinese noodle culture…

This enthusiastic description came from Qiao Yu, but as Wang Guan and Beiye sat in the shop, the wafting aromas gave them a sense of agreement.

“Oh, by the way, where is your brother?” Wang Guan asked suddenly. “I don’t see him.”

“He went home early this morning,” Qiao Yu waved her hand. “Don’t worry about him. Come try this Mian Pi (cold skin noodles); it’s best dipped in aged vinegar. It’s smooth and delicious, with a tart tang that will surely whet your appetite.”

“Stop talking; I’m already drooling,” Wang Guan said with a smile. Without ceremony, he poured a bowl for Beiye and then eagerly dug in with his chopsticks. Chewy, soft, cool, and subtly spicy from the vinegar, it was truly unforgettable.

“This is nothing,” Qiao Yu giggled. “Tomorrow I’ll take you to eat Dao Xiao Mian (knife-cut noodles); that taste is truly heaven on earth…”

“You’re the big landlord; do as you wish,” Wang Guan laughed. “But we can’t just eat noodles all day. Eating vegetarian is fine, but we should have some meat too.”

“Plenty of that—things like Toutong, Guo You Rou, Wuzhai Hui Cai, and Liuzhai Zharou,” Qiao Yu beamed. “Forget it; I haven't tasted them in so long that I’m starting to drool myself.”

“The other dishes are relatively easy to understand,”

At this moment, Beiye asked curiously, “What exactly is that ‘Toutong’?”

“It’s similar to a soup, but also like Zaga (mixed entrails),” Qiao Yu explained. “On the surface, it looks like a bowl of thick soup swimming with chunks of mutton, but inside it contains many things: mutton, bone marrow, distiller’s grains, simmered flour, lotus root, Chinese yam, along with eight flavorings including astragalus and galangal. It’s more like Zaga than soup—Toutong Zaga!”

“The name is strange, but the taste should be good,” Wang Guan affirmed with some certainty, recognizing that in China, the weirder the dish name, the more localized its specialty. Of course, whether one could accept that specialty was another matter entirely.

Soon after, the three finished their delicious Mian Pi and left the noodle shop completely satisfied. Just then, a luxury car slowly approached and stopped beside them…RS