004 Museum

Upon ushering Zhang Wenjie into the room, he shivered all over from the cold, frost coating his glasses, and he fumbled around with his eyes to locate the remote control and adjust the temperature higher.

"You truly are a naive lad, sleeping on a chilly bed, solely relying on the robust firepower. It nearly froze me to death."

I scoffed slightly, remarking, "You're not much older than me, yet you can't control your own body, leaving it hollow."

Zhang Wenjie chuckled and shook his head, incessantly rubbing his knees, chilled to the bone, and said gruffly, "Alright, spare me the potshots."

Suppressing a laugh behind my hand, I inquired, "As the saying goes, one doesn't visit the Three Treasures Hall without a purpose. What brings you here so suddenly?"

Zhang Wenjie cast an odd glance my way and said, "You seem startled. Lin Lao has informed me; it's not about the supporting pot. Besides, you've only just started in this line of work, and..."

Before he could finish, I promptly interjected, "Be precise with your words; I haven't started yet."

Zhang Wenjie shot me a glare and said, "Alright, alright, you outsiders. Let's leave it at that. You may not be aware yet, but during the dog days, involving oneself with the supporting pot is akin to digging one's own grave."

Perplexed by his words, I leaned closer as Zhang Wenjie explained some unwritten rules of the supporting pot industry to me.

Indeed, the grave-robbing profession is divided into various factions, such as the Gold-Finding Lieutenant, the Mountain-Unloading Warrior, the Mountain-Carrying Taoist, and so on. But broadly speaking, they can be categorized into northern and southern schools.

These factions have their own terms for grave-robbing. Some call it "turning the bucket," others "exploration," while the brethren of our group term it "supporting the pot." In any case, it's a shadowy profession, with names deliberately obscured.

As for the saying in the grave-robbing circle about "the four corners of the earth, the four seasons," it's all nonsensical and entirely irrelevant.

Each grave-robbing gang has its own territory. The northern faction never trespasses into the southern faction's turf, and vice versa. Even sworn brothers of the same sect delineate their areas in advance, keeping to themselves. After all, no one wants others to meddle with their spoils; otherwise, it becomes a life-and-death struggle.

However, there's one exception: cooperative development.

It's a profession fraught with slaughter, greed, cruelty, and bloodlust. But since the founding of the Yin and Yang School by Huan Ye, which has endured for over a century, there must be some reason behind it.

Even the choice of season is highly considered.

In summer, with long days and short nights, people are restless, and there's much movement. The fields are mostly filled with ripe fruits, making concealment difficult. During this season, grave-robbing is easily discovered, leading to failure or worse, imprisonment or death.

In a year, the golden period for grave-robbing lasts only from September to February of the following year.

During this time, days are short and nights are long. Fields are either covered with tall canopies or shrouded in cold, endless nights. If there are a few heavy snowfalls, it's even better.

Even cats and dogs hardly stir, presenting a golden opportunity for grave-robbing. Therefore, in reality, most major grave robberies occur during this period. You can verify this if you wish.

After listening to Zhang Wenjie's account, my worldview was utterly refreshed, and I couldn't help but recall a saying: the wisdom of the working people knows no bounds.

"So, you didn't just come here to tell me all this, did you?"

Zhang Wenjie glanced at his wristwatch, realizing it was lunchtime. He stood up and said, "Let's go, I'll treat you to lunch."

Stepping out, we hailed a taxi and headed to a noodle shop called Rujia near the South Gate.

The shop wasn't large, run by a mother and daughter. My attention was immediately drawn to a young woman.

The maiden was clad in white Hanfu, her face veiled in white gauze, with her hair tied in a ponytail, revealing only a pair of clear, captivating eyes, resembling limpid pools of water.

At this moment, she stood before a large cauldron, stretching noodles, gracefully dancing amidst the billowing steam, as ethereal as a fairy.

I inquired, "What is the maiden's name?"

Zhang Wenjie replied, "Shi Jingxia, renowned as the White-Faced Xi Shi."

"White-Faced Xi Shi, a name with a double entendre, quite clever," I remarked.

Zhang Wenjie teased, "Why, do you have any ideas?"

This fellow always had a witty rejoinder at the ready, living up to his name. Ignoring him, I proceeded directly into the Rujia restaurant.

I ordered a bowl of oil-splashed noodles, a roujiamo, and a bottle of chilled Northwest Wolf Beer to complement the meal, a trifecta of perfection that was simply delightful.

Tossing a clove of garlic into his mouth, Zhang Wenjie commented as he ate, "After lunch, come with me to the Provincial Museum for a stroll."

After finishing our meal, we made our way to the Provincial Museum. It was commendable that admission was free, a thoughtful touch.

However, anything offered for free inevitably attracts crowds, a testament to human nature. We waited in line for over an hour before exchanging our IDs for two tickets and entered the museum.

Zhang Wenjie accompanied me for a brief tour but soon grew impatient, urging me to move along.

"Truly a country bumpkin in the city, never seen the world. These are all replicas; what's there to see?"

"Weren't you the one who wanted to come here?"

"Alright, alright. Take your time to explore. I'll go on ahead."

My gaze was deeply captivated by the glittering artifacts under the lights.

Dutiger talismans, agate cups adorned with gold beast heads, silver sachets embroidered with grape and bird patterns, gilded horse-dancing cups engraved on silver pots, the mural "Procession at the Gateway" from the Tomb of Crown Prince Yide, gilded parrot-patterned silver cans with raised handles, Queen's Jade Seal, and many more left one in awe and wonder.

After what seemed like an eternity, with no sign of Zhang Wenjie returning, I went in search of him. After a labyrinthine journey, I finally found him in a gallery named "Future Technology."

Zhang Wenjie stood with folded arms before a glass display case, wholly absorbed in his own thoughts, oblivious to my call.

I stood beside him, also peering into the glass case. Inside was a model of a large tomb in the shape of the character "中" (Zhong). Such tombs were of exceptionally high standards, often reserved for imperial burials.

A detailed information sheet affixed to the display case provided extensive details about this ancient tomb.

This was the Yong Tomb of Emperor Wen of Western Wei, located in Liugu Town, Fuping County, Weinan City, Shaanxi Province. It was a flat-topped earthen mound, facing south, covering nearly a hundred acres, and standing about twenty meters high.

To the east of the Yong Tomb was a slightly smaller companion tomb, where Princess Yuan Mingyue, the sister of Emperor Wen of Western Wei, was interred. Overwhelmed by grief upon Emperor Wen's death, Princess Yuan Mingyue passed away shortly after, creating a poignant tale of sibling affection.

Presently, modern scientific instruments have revealed the underground structure of the Yong Tomb. However, considering factors such as the preservation of cultural relics and the national prohibition on excavating imperial tombs, the Yong Tomb can only be presented to the world in this manner.