Volume One, Chapter 8: Treasures

"Taibai?" I stood frozen in place.

I vaguely remembered that the first door was inscribed with "Hukou," where we encountered a mechanism reminiscent of the Hukou Waterfall; the second door bore the inscription "Chenxiang," where we witnessed a dragon-carved agarwood sculpture guarding the tomb. What, then, was the meaning of "Taibai" on the third door?

"If every stone door corresponds to a tomb chamber or a mechanism... tell me, apprentice, do you think we might have dug into Li Taibai’s coffin?" Master Qi, standing behind me, rattled off nonsense that only deepened the confusion in my already spinning head.

"Nonsense. Li Bai’s cenotaph is in Anhui. Besides, 'Taibai' doesn’t necessarily refer specifically to Li Taibai. Don't let the Tang Dynasty label cloud your judgment." I struggled to recall my studies; in ancient texts, the term "Taibai" originally referred to the planet Venus, the Morning Star, or as we commonly know it, the Great White Planet.

"Oh—" Master Qi drew out his tone, wearing an expression of sudden realization. "So, apprentice, you mean we’ve dug up the coffin of the Great White Planet himself?"

I remained silent. I decided to sever all relations with him for exactly ten minutes—no talking.

But when everyone joined forces to push open the third stone door, we all stood rooted to the spot, joining me in a shared, stunned silence.

The chamber was filled entirely with funerary pottery figurines!

Nearly all the figurines were precious "Tang Sancai"—a type of lead-glazed earthenware popular in the Tang Dynasty, typically featuring three or more colors, most commonly yellow, green, and white. Because of their limited survival, Tang Sancai holds immense artistic value. Standing at the entrance, a rough glance revealed civil official figurines, warrior figurines, male and female attendant figurines, messenger figurines leading dogs, horses, and camels, along with cups, plates, bottles, bowls, pitchers, and glazed jars... A kaleidoscope of three-colored brilliance, blossoming everywhere.

But what shocked us most wasn't the beauty of the figurines, but their sheer volume.

The Tang Dynasty had strict regulations on the number of funerary objects: officials of the fifth rank and above could be buried with sixty grave goods, while those of the third rank and above could have ninety. For instance, if someone in the court was a mere seventh-rank nobody, they absolutely could not be buried with nine hundred items unless they wanted to lose their head. This is why many stories in this genre deliberately avoid the Tang Dynasty; there are simply too few treasures in Tang tombs, and the restrictions are too tight to permit any exaggeration.

Yet, as I counted the figurines before me, large and small, there were easily nine hundred of them, let alone ninety.

"If these were all authentic and we found a good buyer, we could trade them for ten apartments in the capital. The kind where you can see the Forbidden City when you wake up," Master Qi clicked his tongue.

"If you want to be an official, don’t dream of getting rich." I irritably pointed toward the path ahead, telling Master Qi to take the lead and move as quickly as possible.

I estimated the area of this third shaft to be larger than the previous two combined. At our current snail's pace, it would take an eternity to finish exploring. Moreover, even if we could afford the time, these antiquities could not. I am a flesh-and-blood police officer, not a museum’s glass display case. Despite the three archaeologists behind me, who were anxious and warned me that these national treasures were oxidizing rapidly, there was nothing I could do.

"Understood, let’s make it quick." Master Qi agreed, immediately raising his wrist light to clear the path. From behind, he looked as if he were wielding a dazzling sword of light, slicing through the gloomy tomb.

Walking in a dark tomb passage with gold and jade treasures on both sides, with no one else around, one must rely entirely on self-discipline. It is difficult for anyone to resist such temptation. Yet, Master Qi moved with swift, steady steps, never looking back.

Watching his back, I couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration. You see, a greedy person could never do our job. Every piece is worth a fortune; every artifact is a national treasure. No matter who it is, if they were to steal even one piece, the loss to the nation would be immeasurable.

National treasures belong to the country, and even more so, to every citizen. They deserve to be properly preserved—either resting in their native soil or shining brightly in a museum. They should not be traded in the hands of criminals, forced to endure the pain of oxidation after being dug from their peaceful earth, or locked in illegal private collections, never to see the light of day.

Many tomb raiders are blinded by gold and silver, only to end up miserably dead, keeping company with the bones in the tomb, or languishing in prison for decades. Trading one's life for money or thrills is not happiness; it is not adventure. I don't want anyone to repeat the tragic mistakes of those tomb robbers.

True freedom is found among the thorns.
Passing through a mountain of treasure, without a single speck of gold sticking to one's body.

As we continued through the dense rows of Tang Sancai, we noticed that many figurines had been knocked askew by the currents of the sea. Still, it was visible to the naked eye that the heights of these figurines were uneven, with some even exceeding a meter. Based on this alone, one wouldn't be surprised if this were an imperial tomb.

"Apprentice, have you read the Xihai County Annals? Your Xihai City probably didn't even have a fishing village a thousand years ago. Where could such an emperor have popped up from?" Master Qi’s voice drifted from the front of the line.

I replied without hesitation that the owner of this tomb must have overstepped his status.

The Tang Dynasty was known for its lavish burials. Despite legal constraints, instances of overstepping occurred. For example, if a father was a powerful third-rank military governor and his favorite young son passed away, even if the child held no official title, the father might bypass the rules to place a stele that was only permitted for officials of the third rank or higher.

Such minor infractions usually wouldn't reach the ears of the imperial court. Even if there were some who submitted memorials to criticize, the court, hindered by power, human sentiment, and various other factors, would likely turn a blind eye.

"But this owner overstepped way too extravagantly. He probably came from a family of big merchants, with so much money they didn't know where to burn it, so they spent it all on the afterlife," Master Qi speculated.

In ancient times, the status of merchants was very low. As Bai Juyi recorded in his poem *Song of the Pipa Player*, it was common for women in the demimonde to marry merchants. However, many ancient merchants were wealthier than the state itself, and their travels went unquestioned. With the prosperity of Tang maritime trade, if they could navigate the connections, it wouldn't be strange for them to sneak away to a remote coast and build an out-of-spec tomb.

I lowered my head in thought, various possibilities swirling in my mind like the waves of the sea.

The waves receded, revealing a sea merchant of immense wealth, sailing on a magnificent, brightly decorated ship with embroidered sails. He hunted giant whales, opened the heavenly pools, drifted across the mythical islands, weaving through the turbulent seas. With clouds like banners rolling over the sea and golden halberds lining the river mist, he traded with merchants from all nations, accumulating countless jewels. I imagined those massive ships returning fully loaded, slowly entering the port under the sunset, their decks piled high with exotic treasures. The aged merchant, still full of spirit, would run his fingers over the sparkling pearls and silks, pointing toward the Xihai waves, declaring his final resting place.

As we walked, the group suddenly stopped.

I pulled myself back to reality. I stepped forward to look and found that Master Qi, distracted, had started playing around with a pottery figurine.

He hooked his hand around a brown-robed judge figurine with a green face, fiddling with the amber-yellow document on the figure's chest, saying, "We are police officers here to protect cultural relics. It wasn't easy to get down here to see you, so why don't you record a third-class merit for us in the ledger? A third-class merit will do."

*You have the heart to play around? All these precious artifacts are oxidizing rapidly. We need to get out and find people to protect them.* I was just about to reprimand him.

But the next second, I stopped in my tracks, staring blankly at Master Qi and the judge figurine.

"What's wrong?" Master Qi looked at me.

I frowned, slowly voicing my doubt: "The other figurines were knocked over by the water, so why... why is this one standing upright?"

"Don't blame me. This guy was standing when I got here; I didn't have the kindness to pick him up," Master Qi said, spreading his hands innocently.

I looked closely at the Tang Sancai behind him, and my heart gave a jolt—*Look, starting from this judge, all the figurines behind him are standing upright!*

"Oh, I see." Master Qi let go of the judge figurine and said, "Don't make a fuss, apprentice. This just proves that the seawater flowed in from nearby."

That was why the water acted like a divider, knocking half the figurines over while the other half remained perfectly upright.

"Everyone, start looking. The leak can't be far!" I immediately ordered.

But as we searched, we discovered something even stranger: this shaft, while neatly lined with figurines in the front, was filled with a vast expanse of wooden coffins further back.

They looked dark, desolate, and terrifying.

"This is strange. Stacking so many funerary objects in the shaft is one thing, but why are all the coffins crammed in here too?" The archaeologists whispered, bewildered.

Not just them—I was also completely baffled. Since the owner had the capability to build such a massive underwater tomb, why not build separate burial chambers?

"Sigh, they shared the same boat in life, so they gather their spirits together in death. Being surrounded and lively isn't necessarily a bad thing," Master Qi said, signaling the group to stop with a grin. "But there are a bit too many residents here. I'll go have a chat with them first; you guys stay back."

"Chat? Chat about what?" I looked up at him.

Master Qi kept smiling. "Listen closely."

I focused, straining my ears. Suddenly, a "rustle-scratch" sound made me recoil a few steps.

In the corner, a wooden coffin seemed to be moving. It emitted a brittle, fragmented sound that drowned out the silence of the chamber and our conversation. It was faint, piercing, yet rhythmic. I could hardly describe the sound. It wasn't like the fluttering of insect wings or the gnawing of rodents; it sounded more like some living thing was scratching from inside the coffin, pushing against the lid as if trying to climb out.

Master Qi looked back, and the archaeologists turned pale. He sighed almost imperceptibly and gave me a subtle look.

I understood his intention immediately.

As police officers, we are, of course, steadfast materialists who resolutely implement the instructions of the central authorities: we do not believe in evil, we do not fear ghosts, and we do not fear pressure.

But now, we needed to speak symbolically, using "magic to defeat magic" to settle everyone’s nerves.

I stepped forward, my voice booming to drown out the surrounding noises. "We may not believe in or fear ghosts and gods, but we must respect our ancestors."

Master Qi joined in, "I’m going to negotiate with these old antiques right now and ensure we get through. Don't worry, I have an amulet."

"You really have an amulet? Where?" I raised an eyebrow.

He actually pulled my hand, touched his abdominal muscles, and laughed, "Right here."

Through his clothes, I could clearly feel a card-shaped hard object.

"Oh, what is this?" I pretended to be surprised, quickly pulling my hand back as if burned.

Master Qi intentionally teased everyone, saying, "This is a treasure I obtained in the capital years ago. I’ve kept it for a long time. Guess what’s written on it?"

I smiled, "Your amulet couldn't possibly say 'Searching for dragons and dividing gold by watching the mountains,' could it?"

Seeing us chatting, the archaeologists gradually shed their fear. They curiously leaned in, asking, "Is it 'Each mountain fold is a pass'?"

"Haha, all wrong." Master Qi laughed. "It’s my attendee pass for the Capital’s Commendation Conference for Combating Organized Crime!"

Silence filled the room. I coughed twice, "Master, that’s a bit too heavy-handed. Can a card like that really serve as an amulet?"

"Of course, it even has the personal signature of a very powerful person on it," Master Qi said, brimming with pride.

Upon hearing this, not only were the archaeologists no longer afraid, but I also quickly straightened to attention.

Honestly, I had never asked about Master Qi’s background before. Every time a clueless newcomer at work asked about it, he would always laugh it off. I had warned everyone under my command that no matter how curious they were, they were absolutely forbidden from checking his information on the national internal network; if detected, it would be reported directly to the ministry for criticism. This was, in a way, our country’s method of protecting national security personnel.

I had only heard that in his youth, Master Qi was a true "Capital Prince," with an unfathomable family background. But because he was overly handsome and conspicuous, he wasn't suited for secret intelligence work, which was why he often assisted in special investigations under the guise of being a police officer.

But he never put on airs or lost his temper; he liked to joke, but when it came to major issues, he was never ambiguous. Master Qi was the "super cheat code" in my mind, the true "amulet" I treasured.

At this moment, I watched the back of this "amulet"—he was protecting us tightly, just like a mother hen protecting her chicks—just like when he first took me out on patrol during my police academy internship. He had made me hide behind him, open the body camera to secure evidence, and repeatedly warned me not to be impulsive or reveal myself.

Under everyone’s gaze, he cleared his throat and strode to the center of the tomb, announcing in a tone that was half-joking and half-solemn:

"Dear victims, you are all residents of several thousand years; it’s bad luck enough to be burglarized. We, the police, understand your feelings and will certainly strive to solve the case as soon as possible and restore your peace."

"But grievances have their source, and debts have their debtors. You all had better cooperate honestly with our police work. If you dare to use those tricks you used on tomb raiders against us, trying to scare us or trip us up... a person does the same job in death as they did in life. If we meet in the underworld later, well, I’m sorry, but we’ll be forced to initiate an investigation on the spot."

Master Qi finished, sweeping his gaze around the room. His eyes suddenly became sharp and piercing.

I had never seen that look in his eyes before. Sharp as a hawk, staring straight into every dark corner of the tomb. It was like a heaven-sent sword, its hilt pointing to the heavens and its blade piercing the underworld, washing away millions of years of dust.

I don’t know if it was my imagination, but the air pressure seemed to drop, and the surrounding noises suddenly quieted.

When Master Qi returned triumphantly, he regained his usual relaxed demeanor. "Hey, there are so many victims here who witnessed the crime; it would be great if one of them were willing to sit up and help us with a statement."

"Stop joking. If one of them actually sat up, you’d be the one lying down," I stomped my foot in the empty tomb. Whether it was the cold or something else, I felt goosebumps all over.

To my surprise, the moment I finished speaking, a figure suddenly sat up in the corner of the tomb.