The photo album Ming Shu showed me was filled with all sorts of coffins, their lids always open, revealing the desiccated corpses inside. They were all from different eras; some had one body per coffin, others had a couple lying side-by-side, a husband and wife sharing one. There were even dozens of mummies concentrated within a single massive coffin. Each was enclosed in a transparent, airtight display case. What he called a private collection looked more like exhibits in a museum.

I asked Ming Shu what these mummies were for. Some people collect antiques, but I never imagined anyone would collect actual "bone antiques." I'd heard the mummies from Xinjiang could fetch a high price, but seeing so many collected together was truly eye-opening.

Ming Shu explained that many museums abroad specifically purchase well-preserved ancient corpses. He said these bodies hold immense research and aesthetic value—they are documents that freeze the beauty of eternal death, embodying significant commercial and cultural worth.

Ming Shu then turned to me and said, "Brother Hu, since you’ve seen my collection, would you let me see the ancient corpse-suppressing mirror you got from Yunnan? Name your price, or you can take any antique here in exchange."

I thought to myself that this Ming Shu was a connoisseur. He might even know the history of that bronze mirror. It might be better to feel him out first, not to tell him the ancient mirror no longer existed. So, I asked Ming Shu if there was any story behind the mirror.

Ming Shu chuckled, "Brother Hu, trying to play coy with me, are we? This bronze mirror is useless to you, but it’s incredibly useful to me. There is nothing in this world better at warding off evil than this. As for its origin, although I haven't seen it myself, the moment a few friends in the antique trade mentioned it, I immediately knew it had to be an artifact from before the Qin Dynasty, no doubt about it. You know that Qin Shi Huang was a Legalist, right?"

I only remembered that during the Cultural Revolution there was a period of "Criticizing Confucius and Evaluating Legalism," and I seemed to recall something about Legalist doctrine, but I couldn't recall the specifics. I just nodded along, pretending to understand. Da Jinya piped up beside me, "We know that. It was one of the schools of thought during the Hundred Schools of Thought period, a theory for governing a nation. It died out after Confucianism was venerated in the mid-Han Dynasty."

Ming Shu continued, "Speaking plainly between us, that bronze mirror capable of suppressing corpses and warding off evil is the symbol of the Legalist school. Legend says it was forged on Mount Ziyang, capable of reflecting the Four Cardinal Virtues: propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame. Records state that when a corpse caused havoc in the Yellow River, sinking boats, the King of Qin ordered this mirror hung at the river mouth, guarded by soldiers. When the Qin dynasty gave way to the Han, the mirror fell into the hands of a Han vassal king, and somehow it ended up in Yunnan. A mirror that can subdue a corpse transformation when placed on a bronze sarcophagus—there is no second one like it in the world. Hand it over to me. I absolutely won't let you lose out."

I listened to the gist of it. While I felt a pang of regret, there's no selling regret in this world. No matter how good the offer, I simply didn't have the item. So, I told Ming Shu plainly that I didn't have any ancient mirror at all; that was just Fatty boasting wildly. What he said at Qianmen, you'd have to go to Babaoshan to hear.

With that, I was about to rise and take my leave, but Ming Shu didn't seem to fully believe me and insisted I stay for a meal. Ming Shu still thought I was reluctant to part with it, so he took out another antique-looking jade piece and held it up before me. I could tell at a glance this was no common item. Judging by his manner, he wanted to "trade" with me—in our line of work, there are rules. If you show something to another party, it must first be placed on the table, and they must pick it up themselves; you cannot pass it directly into their hands, because these items are invariably valuable, and if it drops and gets damaged, the responsibility is unclear.

Since Ming Shu was holding it, it felt improper for me to reach out for it. I only glanced at it for a moment. Though it was only as thick as a little finger, it was definitely a piece of immense, market-defining value. Next to it, I felt the scorching summer heat outside completely vanish.

Da Jinya was partial to jade and praised it effusively: "The ancients said, jade nourishes the mountains, and water carries its fragrance far. Though this jade phoenix is small, the moment it appears, the entire room feels more vital. It truly gives us a refreshing feeling. May I ask which Tang Dynasty consort wore this?"

Ming Shu smiled proudly, "Old Brother Jin certainly has the eye! Which consort? Though Anecdotes of the Tianbao Era is historical fiction, it contains truths. When it says Imperial Consort Yang swallowed jade to quench her throat thirst, it refers to this piece. This material was carved from an ancient jade that rested at the bottom of the sea for ten million years. Jade is inherently moist, and having been submerged in seawater for so long only enhanced its beneficial properties. It can vent heat, moisturize dryness, soften hardness, and detoxify. It is a priceless treasure, and my personal favorite piece."

Da Jinya stared at it, his eyes glazed over: "Since ancient times, whenever we excavate a tomb and find a body seemingly alive, there will surely be large quantities of fine jade inside its abdomen or mouth. Ancient jades dug out of zongzi [corpse wrapping] are worth fortunes, let alone this one that the Imperial Consort kept in her mouth daily..." As he spoke, he stretched his neck forward, extending his tongue as if to lick it.

Ming Shu quickly withdrew his hand. "Are you serious? Not now. After I trade it to you, you can lick it however you want. You can even keep it in your mouth all day, and it won't be a problem."

Seeing my silence, Ming Shu assumed his offer wasn't high enough. He produced a scroll painting and, donning gloves, unfurled it for us to see. He told me, if you just nod, that deep-sea moist jade, along with this genuine Song Dynasty scroll, Sunset Glow on the Western Ox, will all be yours.

I thought that Ming Shu really did have a wealth of good things. I decided to look first, so I gave an noncommittal reply and gazed intently at the scroll. Although our group often dealt in antiques, we rarely handled calligraphy or paintings and had seen very few originals. But after years of dealing with artifacts, we had an instinct for true pieces, and having seen many murals in ancient tombs, I knew as soon as I looked that this was almost certainly an authentic "immortal elixir" (ultimate treasure).

The entire composition was structured with two strong diagonal lines cutting in. The foreground was dominated by lush woods, with an old ox grazing beneath a tree. The lines were clean and fluid, the brushwork marvelous, vividly capturing the gentle, unhurried demeanor of the old ox. In the middle ground was a thatched hut nestled among the trees. The distant background used light ink to render the shapes of faraway mountains shrouded in twilight haze. The transition between near, middle, and far distance was natural, shaded with alternating levels of substance and illusion, misty smoke and thin fog, as if covered by a veil of greenish gauze, giving the viewer a sense of profound tranquility, ethereal comfort, and separation from the mundane world.

Ming Shu said, "At night, when the light dims, this ox that is grazing under the tree will return to the hut to lie down and sleep. This is an exceedingly rare treasure."

I immediately started. Though the painting was exquisite, the ox moving in the painting seemed too miraculous. I had heard of antique dealers fooling people with two paintings—one featuring a traveler with an umbrella, and when it rained, the umbrella in the painting would open. In reality, the two paintings were secretly swapped, fooling the unknowing into thinking it was a divine object. This Sunset Glow on the Western Ox was probably the same.

Then Ming Shu immediately blocked the light, and when we looked again, the old ox was indeed lying down beside the hut. The spot where it had been grazing was empty. I was completely shocked. Could this ancient painting truly have been drawn by a divine hand?

Ming Shu did not hide it and told me the truth: the painting was dyed with a secret imperial medicine, which caused this phenomenon. Even without this feature, this Sunset Glow Resting Ox Painting would be enough to buy more than a dozen decent residences.

Ming Shu then presented two more items, escalating the price—he was truly sparing no expense, showing how long he had desired the mirror. Seeing I remained unyielding, he prepared to bring out something else.

I said to Ming Shu, "We have certainly opened our eyes today and learned a great deal here. But to be frank, I did take that ancient Legalist mirror, but an accident occurred, and I couldn't bring it out. Otherwise, we could have completed this trade. You're offering such a high price for that ancient mirror—is there a sign of corpse transformation among the mummies in your residence? If it’s convenient, could you tell us? I actually know a few methods to suppress corpse transformations."

I continued, "I think there’s no need for us to hold back from each other. We are both in the trade. That Thirteen-Whisker Porcelain Cat you have on display is worshipped by the Xiangxi Corpse Carriers. Since that’s the case, you must be familiar with this path. Surely you have a way to deal with corpse transformations?"

Ming Shu's ancestors were indeed Xiangxi Corpse Carriers. "Corpse Carrying" didn't mean carrying the dead on their backs; it was a method of tomb robbing. They would dig a pit, dismantle the side panel of the coffin, and crawl inside backward, never facing down—they performed all "reverse-hand work." These mysterious and eerie customs, who knows from what dynasty they originated. Ming Shu's family got rich this way. Later, his father encountered the Xiangxi Corpse King while carrying a corpse at Zouma Stream and lost his life. That generation of corpse carriers ended there. Because the family was wealthy and the ancestral skills were not passed down, he went to Nanyang to do business and eventually settled in Hong Kong.

After that, he began dealing in mummies. Mummies excavated from deserts, Gobi, high mountains, or barren plains, if they were of some status and well-preserved, could be labeled as King So-and-so, General So-and-so, or Princess So-and-so, allowing for exorbitant pricing and huge profits. The buyers were mostly museums, exhibition halls, and private collectors—all done through underground transactions, of course.

Not long ago, an overseas museum approached Ming Shu about a deal. They possessed an ancient scripture obtained from Tibet that documented a strange phenomenon surrounding the death of a Tibetan Demon Kingdom princess. She died from a peculiar illness and, after death, transformed into a glacial crystal corpse, which was revered as a divine miracle. She was buried on a snow mountain within the "Nine-Story Demon Tower." The scripture even contained specific clues about the tomb's location.

This was their biggest potential business deal. However, according to the intelligence Ming Shu had gathered, this millennium-old glacial crystal corpse was inherently extremely cold and possessed immense Yin energy. Ordinary people would die upon approaching it without the Reliquary Pagoda consecrated by Master Padmasambhava, which was impossible to obtain. It seemed any corpse-suppressing items would be useless. After much thought, he concluded that perhaps only that ancient mirror could help him carry her out of the Nine-Story Demon Tower.

Da Jinya and I had never heard this term before. We had long heard legends of the Xiangxi Corpse King, but what exactly was a Glacial Crystal Corpse? Was it more formidable than the Xiangxi Corpse King?