The Company

Chapter 13 Dumb Shop: Red Dragon Robe (Part 1)

This was the second time the Doctor had seen the Boss spit blood. The scene this time was even more alarming—the Boss continued speaking while crimson blood seeped from the corners of his lips, his face still maintaining a perfect smile. The horror of it could rival a midnight horror movie.

The Doctor was filled with regret. He should have dragged the Boss to the hospital right after they left the Master's villa. Instead, he had forgotten all about it after a night's sleep—a truly irresponsible oversight. In truth, it wasn't entirely his fault. The Boss, who stayed year-round in the sunless Dumb Shop, already had a sickly pale complexion devoid of color. With no prior warning or any signs of weakness or illness, it was easy to overlook his condition.

"Come on, let's go to the hospital for a check-up! There's one nearby," the Doctor said, not bothering to justify his negligence. His heart racing, he grabbed the Boss's arm and pulled him toward the door.

But the Boss didn't move. Instead, he withdrew his hand, took out a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his lips, and said calmly, "I can't go to the hospital."

"Why not?" the Doctor was taken aback. When he turned around, he caught the bitter smile in the Boss's eyes. Cursing his own foolishness, it took the Doctor a long moment to find his voice again. "How... how have you lived this long? Does spitting blood like this affect your health?" he asked hesitantly. Though he had witnessed many strange things in the Dumb Shop—like the candle said to have burned for centuries, the Classic of Mountains and Seas sealing mythical beasts, and the white snake spirit he had just encountered—he absolutely refused to believe that the person standing before him, whom he had known for years, was a monster.

The Doctor recalled the few times he had physical contact with the Boss; his body temperature was unnaturally low, unlike that of a living person.

A cold draft slipped through the poorly sealed door, causing the wick of the Changxin Palace Lantern to flicker and the shadows of antique furniture on the walls to sway restlessly. Seeing the shifting expressions on the Boss's face, the Doctor felt no fear. Instead of retreating, he took a step closer.

Clearly seeing the concern in the Doctor's eyes, the Boss couldn't suppress a flicker of surprise. Even the Master's family, who had interacted with him for three generations, maintained a respectful distance due to his unchanging appearance over the centuries. Yet the Doctor, who had known him for only two or three years, showed even more concern upon hearing that he might be a two-thousand-year-old fairy.

When the Boss remained silent, the Doctor grew anxious. "If it's inconvenient to say, that's fine." But I am a doctor—I might be able to help..."

Perhaps having unburdened himself today, the Boss felt lighter, as if the secrets he had long carried like a heavy weight were no longer so oppressive. For a moment, he thought it might not matter if he told the Doctor everything.

After all, he was truly about to leave.

The Boss placed the half-cooled kettle back on the small red-clay stove to reheat it. "My master was an alchemist," he said softly. Steam soon rose from the kettle, misty vapor escaping the spout and dissipating into the chilly air.

The Doctor, being a chatterbox himself, wasn't the best listener. He couldn't resist interjecting, "Was your master affected when Qin Shi Huang burned the books and buried the scholars—no, the alchemists alive?"The Boss shook his head and said, "My master was a very famous alchemist who disdained associating with those fraudulent sorcerers in the palace. He departed on a spiritual journey just one year after entering the palace."

Seeing the nostalgic expression on the Boss's face, the Doctor knew he was thinking about his master and suppressed the urge to interrupt, waiting quietly instead.

Soon, the kettle on the stove began boiling. The Boss finally snapped out of his reverie, poured out the cold tea from the teapot, and brewed a fresh pot. Instantly, the aroma of tea filled the Dumb Shop, refreshing everyone's spirits.

"After the incident where the medicine-tasting attendants suddenly died, the First Emperor didn't abandon his pursuit of immortality. However, from then on, when elixirs were presented, the alchemists themselves had to taste them instead of using attendants," the Boss said, holding his teacup without drinking, just turning it in his hands. "Before my master departed on his spiritual journey, he left behind two elixirs. Since he could no longer be found, I, as his disciple, had to taste them."

The Doctor was stunned, his raised teacup freezing mid-air, hardly believing what he had heard. "You mean you took the immortality elixir? That's impossible! How could there be an immortality elixir in this world?" The Doctor was so agitated that he forgot he was holding a full cup of tea. Scalding tea splashed out and burned his hand, but he didn't feel the pain, still waving his hands excitedly.

The Boss remained calm, reaching over to take the teacup from the Doctor's hand and set it down, preventing the precious Song Dynasty white-glazed porcelain from being accidentally smashed to pieces.

"How is this possible? How is this possible?" The Doctor unconsciously repeated these words. He had thought the Boss's long life might be due to being some kind of spirit creature, but this truth was even harder for him to accept.

Just by taking some kind of medicine? What medicine could grant immortality? The Doctor absolutely refused to acknowledge that ancient alchemy could be more advanced than modern medicine!

The Boss also knew this was hard to believe, but he had indeed lived through over two thousand years. Stroking the smooth, fine glaze of the Song porcelain in his hand, the Boss thought to himself that he probably counted as an antique in the Dumb Shop too - and quite an ancient one at that.

Gradually recovering from his out-of-control state, the Doctor began to realize this might be a rare opportunity to glimpse humanity's secrets. Suppressing his excitement, he drank the remaining half-cup of tea in one gulp, calmed his emotions, and asked, "Boss, could you tell me more about this?"

Why not? Feeling the warmth of the tea through the cup in his hands, the Boss let his thoughts drift slowly into the past.

"After Fusu was killed, General Meng Tian, unwilling to accept this, led his troops back to Xianyang to confront Huhai. I don't know what ultimately happened to him - history records that he took poison to commit suicide, but he was most likely assassinated."

"What about you?" the Doctor couldn't help but press. The Boss had been Fusu's closest study companion - Huhai would certainly not have spared him."Me?" The Boss's thin lips curled into a frosty smile. "Though my father held no noble title, as a member of one of Qin's oldest families, he could still detect the subtlest shifts within the imperial court. Before Huhai's envoy reached the border, he'd already sent me an urgent letter claiming he was critically ill. I rushed back to Xianyang, only to be immediately confined to a secret chamber upon entering my home. I wasn't released until the funeral rites for Qin Shi Huang began. That was when I learned Fusu had taken his own life."

The Doctor remained silent. Though the Boss's narration was calm and measured, careful listening revealed undercurrents of regret. Had he returned to Xianyang a few days later, he might have prevented Fusu's death and perhaps altered the course of history.

The tea in the Boss's cup had gone cold. He raised it to his lips and took a sip, the altered flavor of the cooled tea spreading through his mouth like the tumult of emotions in his heart.

No one could comprehend the shock and fury he'd felt upon seeing the figure standing upon the imperial throne.

He had envisioned countless times the imperial crown resting upon Fusu's head, had dreamed of standing by his side witnessing the birth of a new emperor, of building an ideal and powerful nation together—a Great Qin that would last ten thousand generations!

The Boss's grip on the teacup suddenly tightened, sending ripples across the tea's surface that gradually stilled.

But all of it had vanished like passing smoke. That crown, that imperial seal—he had carefully hidden them deep within the Dumb Shop, yet no worthy master had ever appeared to claim them.

A suffocating silence filled the Dumb Shop. After a long while, the Boss finally broke the silence: "On the day of Qin Shi Huang's funeral, all high-ranking court officials went to Mount Li. Few returned. I didn't return either."

"Buried alive? Using this to eliminate political rivals? How treacherous of Huhai~~" Noticing the Boss unconsciously touching his neck, the Doctor finally understood the origin of that gruesome scar.

The Boss nodded. "When I awoke again, I was inside Qin Shi Huang's tomb. The wound on my neck had healed and stopped bleeding, but when I looked around, I saw corpses everywhere—like being in hell. Most were those who had opposed Huhai, including my father~~ My father had endured humiliation his entire life, never imagining he'd die inexplicably in that place. I carried my father's body out of the tomb and buried him in our ancestral graveyard. I believe even in death, he wouldn't have wanted any connection with the Ying family."

After this, the Boss paused again, pouring a cup of warm tea before continuing. After burying his father, he went searching for Fusu's grave. The men sent by Zhao Gao had buried him carelessly. Traveling incognito, he eventually found a lonely grave mound near the frontier. He couldn't let Fusu rest alone in such desolation. He exhumed Fusu's body and brought it back to Mount Li.

Qin Shi Huang was never buried in the magnificent mausoleum he'd constructed during his lifetime—his remains were lost. All because his son Huhai wanted that grand tomb for himself.During his lifetime, Qin Shi Huang doted on his youngest son, wishing he could offer him all the finest things in the world. Yet one wonders if the emperor ever imagined that the great Qin Empire he built with his own hands would one day be entirely grasped within the palm of this very son. Even the eternal resting place he had constructed for himself was taken by Huhai without the slightest hesitation, as if it were his birthright.

Boss found it bitterly ironic, a cold sneer escaping his lips. "That’s why I buried Fusu at Mount Li. Since he couldn’t become the emperor of the Qin Empire in life, I made sure he would command those ten thousand terracotta warriors in death."

His words resonated with such force that Doctor couldn’t help but look up and study Boss anew. He had long sensed that the depth of experience in Boss’s eyes didn’t match his youthful appearance, but now, as impassioned words flowed from him, a flush of vitality colored his face. One could easily imagine what a formidable figure he must have been in the annals of history.

Having closely observed Boss’s expressions earlier, Doctor could clearly see his reverence for Qin Shi Huang. It wasn’t hard to deduce that Boss had once aspired to achieve great deeds by Fusu’s side, determined to contribute to the rise of the Qin Empire.

Throughout history, the wise have often walked a lonely path. For a person of grand ambition and exceptional talent to encounter an appreciative ruler in the right era and at the opportune moment is exceedingly rare. That Gan Luo met Fusu two thousand years ago was an extraordinary stroke of luck. Fusu, by nature gentle, benevolent, and intelligent, would have undoubtedly become a sagacious monarch with proper nurturing. With the exceptionally gifted Gan Luo assisting him, the two would surely have accomplished remarkable feats.

Yet Huhai effortlessly destroyed it all.

Doctor could envision how, after Fusu’s death, Boss must have embarked on his search for Fusu’s reincarnation with unwavering determination. He longed to reclaim the past, to once again stand alongside Fusu at the pinnacle of power and steer the course of history. But he soon discovered that each reincarnation of Fusu died young, and gradually, the search transformed into a duty, trapping him in an inescapable cycle that persisted for over two millennia.

Boss composed himself, unwilling to speak another word about Fusu. Knowing that Doctor was most curious about the elixir of immortality, he slowly began, "It was only a few years later that I noticed something unusual about my body. Not only did my appearance remain unchanged, but any injuries I sustained healed rapidly. After a long time, I concluded that it must have been due to the elixir of immortality my master created."

Doctor’s interest was instantly piqued; he leaned forward eagerly and pressed, "Any unusual symptoms? Do you lose hair? Are there any differences in other bodily functions? Ah, if only I could examine you! I promise the data would remain confidential."

Boss smiled faintly. "I know you wouldn’t disclose it, but over the years, I haven’t stopped researching myself. Perhaps there’s no need for lab tests—I might already know the reason."

"Tell me!" Doctor was nearly driven mad with impatience, sweating profusely.

Boss quite enjoyed keeping him in suspense, though it wasn’t intentional; he needed to organize his thoughts and find the right words. After a moment of contemplation, Boss asked, "What is the cause of human aging?""It's senescent cells," the Doctor immediately replied, hesitating whether to explain what cells were when the other person continued speaking. "Humans are like cells—cells divide, and new cells grow. When the rate of cell division slows down and becomes less than the rate of cell aging, the human body enters old age. Is that correct?" The Boss carefully chose his words.

"Correct," the Doctor nodded, feeling an indescribable sense of dissonance. Hearing modern medical terms from the Boss felt as absurd as seeing the latest Apple computers being sold in the Dumb Shop.

"However, there are exceptions to such cells. Infinitely proliferating cells become immortal, everlasting cells." The Boss narrowed his phoenix eyes.

"You mean... cancer cells!" The Doctor widened his eyes, his face full of disbelief. "Are you saying the immortality elixir you ingested caused cancer? But shouldn't that accelerate your death?" Normal cells have a limited number of divisions—for instance, human cells can only divide about fifty to sixty times in a lifetime. Cancer cells, however, lose this limit and can divide almost infinitely, but the human body's organs absolutely cannot withstand it.

"So, the function of this Crimson Dragon robe I wear is to suppress the division rate of cancer cells, maintaining a delicate balance in the body's cells. This way, the organs neither decay nor fail." The Boss reached out and touched the robe that had accompanied him for two thousand years, speaking calmly: "Since ancient times, it has been said that 'gold and jade generate cold,' preserving the corpse from decay. This fabric is woven from ancient black gold and black jade threads, originally prepared for Qin Shi Huang's burial. During his reign, the First Emperor collected some artifacts from the mythical era. In later dynasties, such divine artifacts became extremely rare, with many being imitations. For example, the jade burial suits found in Han tombs are actually crude replicas."

"Can... can I touch it?" The Doctor swallowed hard and, after the Boss nodded, eagerly reached out. The fabric felt both soft and firm to the touch, with a piercing cold temperature. The Doctor speculated that some rare metal must have been added to the fabric, giving it weak radioactive properties to preserve the flesh from decay. In the past, the Doctor would never have believed the Boss's words, but the mythical era indeed existed as an enigmatic period before the feudal era. He had witnessed with his own eyes how the Classic of Mountains and Seas could seal mythical beasts and alternate dimensions. If a bamboo slip could cast spells, then a fabric that prevented decay wasn't too far-fetched.

The Doctor couldn't figure out the principle but knew the Boss wouldn't understand such scientific questions either, nor would he cut off a piece for testing. So, while running his hands over the fabric, he asked, "So, you haven't taken off this robe for over two thousand years?" The Doctor was brimming with curiosity—to him, the Boss was the research subject he had always dreamed of. He truly wanted to strip off the robe to study its material and, while at it, examine the Boss's body. If possible, he even wished to touch the Boss's heart, which had been beating for over two millennia..."Stop looking at me like that." The Boss could swear that if the Doctor had a scalpel in hand right now, he would undoubtedly dissect him without hesitation. "It's fine to take it off for short periods, at least it's okay not to wear it while sleeping. This robe only needs to be nearby to work." The Boss found the Doctor's question amusing and curled his lips in good humor. Over these two thousand years, he had rarely maintained such close proximity to others, especially since the Doctor's warm fingers seemed to transmit through the thin fabric to his skin, providing some comfort to his discomfort.

"This robe is styled like a Mao Suit—it wasn't this fashionable two thousand years ago, was it?" The Doctor looked at the Boss's stand-up collar and asked with a laugh.

"During the Republican era, I saved the Master's grandmother. The Master's grandfather was a renowned antique restorer at the time, and he helped tailor the robe into this style. Who would have thought it would go out of fashion just a few years later?" The Boss smiled self-deprecatingly. "Fortunately, wearing it now isn't too strange—it's still better than ancient attire."

"This dragon actually moves, doesn't it?" The Doctor's hand hesitated near the Crimson Dragon's body. The dragon was embroidered so vividly that he felt nervous even touching it.

"During the Song Dynasty, this robe tore once, and I asked the Imperial Embroidery Institute to mend it for me. The fabric has specific patterns in each thread, and the institute ended up embroidering this Crimson Dragon over the tear. The silk threads used weren't ordinary either—they were soaked in my blood, which is why the dragon is crimson." The Boss stroked the dragon's head resting on his shoulder with deep nostalgia. "The tear was never perfectly mended. It used to shift positions only every few years, but lately, it's been moving once a day. I think it hasn't had enough of my blood and is growing impatient."

The Boss's fingertips still held traces of the blood he had coughed up earlier. The Doctor watched as a drop of blood seeped into the fabric, and the Crimson Dragon's head shifted slightly, its body seeming to swell a bit more. Only then did the Doctor realize and looked down at the area between the Boss's chest and abdomen.

The tear in the robe was large, and the messy stitches were the Master's recent handiwork. Recalling the Boss's earlier spitting blood, the Doctor gasped and said, "This robe can't be damaged, can it?" Even disrupting the thread patterns would affect its function?"

In simple terms, this Red Dragon Robe was like an extremely intricate circuit board—if a few wires were messed up, it would short-circuit completely. Otherwise, the Boss wouldn't have gone to such lengths to embroider such a peculiar dragon over the previous tear. And since he said it was fine to take the robe off for short periods, the only explanation for the Boss coughing up blood so quickly was this.

The Boss smiled bitterly; he hadn't intended to mention this. "After I die, if my body doesn't decay quickly, you can handle it as you wish."

The Doctor was stunned. Although he had fantasized about dissecting the Boss, it was just a mental fantasy—he never expected it to actually happen. It took him a long moment to find his voice again. "Couldn't... couldn't you find someone else to embroider it?"The Boss toyed with the empty teacup in his hand and said with a light smile, "The Song Dynasty marked the pinnacle of Suzhou embroidery's development, with even the imperial court establishing a dedicated Embroidery Academy. This Crimson Dragon on my robe required the collective effort of thirty-seven embroiderers from the academy, taking a full two years to complete. Do you think it's possible to find so many skilled embroiderers in this day and age?"

Indeed, it was impossible.

The Doctor rose anxiously, pacing back and forth in the Dumb Shop. "There must be some way... Couldn't machines do the weaving?"

"No matter. Don't trouble yourself over it. I've lived far too long. Now that Fusu's affairs are finally resolved, it's time for me to rest." The Boss smiled faintly, carrying a sense of relief.

The Doctor stopped in his tracks, realizing where the crux of the matter lay.

The Boss certainly had the means to keep himself alive, but he had already lost the will to live. No amount of urgency from others would make a difference.

This was something he often witnessed in the hospital—illnesses that had a fifty percent chance of recovery would gradually worsen due to the patient’s lack of cooperation, ultimately leading to the worst outcome.

The Doctor walked up to the Boss, placed his hands on his shoulders, and looked him straight in the eyes as he asked seriously, "Are you and Fusu friends?"

"Yes," the Boss thought. If they weren’t friends, he wouldn’t have endured over two thousand years in this world just to see whether his reincarnation could live a normal life.

"Then what about me?" The Doctor’s grip on the Boss’s shoulders tightened slightly.

The Boss stared at him blankly.

He knew this man wasn’t Fusu—he could tell the difference clearly. They were vastly different, two entirely separate individuals. Their living environments, life experiences, and beliefs were all distinct, without even the slightest resemblance. Unlike the reincarnations of Huo Qubing or Xiang Yu, Fusu’s reincarnation lacked one soul and one spirit, so no matter how strong his attachment was, it couldn’t influence the Doctor’s life—not in the slightest.

The Fusu in his heart was still dead.

The Boss had to admit that when he saw the Doctor’s unwavering expression in Fusu’s memories just now, his heart had turned to ashes.

Enough. He had ultimately succeeded. Even if Fusu could never be reborn, his reincarnation would not be burdened by the tragedy from two thousand years ago.

That was enough.

If their roles were reversed, Fusu would probably have lingered in this world for just as long for his sake.

But he was truly tired. Having witnessed countless cycles of life and death, he knew that defying fate by lingering in the mortal world would likely lead to a fate no better than that of the white snake spirit.

"Aren’t we friends?" The Doctor, not receiving an answer from the Boss, grew somewhat agitated. "If we aren’t friends, why did you risk your life to save me? If you hadn’t come to rescue me, the Red Dragon Robe wouldn’t have been damaged, and you wouldn’t be dying... Was I just overthinking it? You only saved me because I’m Fusu’s reincarnation..."

"We are friends," the Boss interrupted the Doctor’s self-pity. He looked up, watching the flickering candlelight reflected in the Doctor’s glasses, unable to discern the emotions hidden behind them.

Over the years of being with the Doctor, despite his chattiness, his tendency to talk incessantly, and his habit of bringing things and forcing him to share them... they had become friends. A sincere smile tugged at the corner of the Boss’s lips as he said calmly, "I saved you—just you. It has nothing to do with anyone else. You’re a good doctor. If you live, you’ll save many more people."

The Doctor blinked, feeling the candlelight in the room was a bit too harsh, making his eyes ache. "Then you must live too. There are so many antiques in the Dumb Shop—how can you bear to abandon them?"

The Doctor knew how dearly the Boss cherished the antiques in the Dumb Shop, which only deepened his guilt. If the Red Dragon Robe hadn’t been damaged, even after fulfilling his wish, the Boss would have continued guarding the Dumb Shop as its antique store owner.

The Boss could feel the heat from the Doctor’s palms on his shoulders, almost unbearable. He stood up to refill the teapot, using the motion to break free from the Doctor’s grasp, and said with a light, carefree smile, "The Curator will take care of them. I’m sure he’ll look after them well."

Yes, if that old man found out the antiques in the Dumb Shop were left to him, he’d probably be so excited he’d have a heart attack.While internally grumbling, the Doctor racked his brains for something that could keep the Boss alive. Hearing the sound of water being poured, he suddenly had an epiphany and said, "Boss, you mentioned there were two immortality pills back then. You took one, but what about the other? Did Qin Shi Huang take it? But if he did, he shouldn't have died, right?"

The sound of pouring water abruptly stopped. The Doctor stole a glance and noticed the Boss's expression had darkened, realizing he had accidentally stumbled upon a key point. He quickly added, "Don't hide anything from me anymore. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Is dissecting my corpse not enough? Now you want to study that pill too?" The Boss shot the Doctor an annoyed look, thinking this guy was really pushing his luck. The Doctor chuckled without defending himself, feeling that this kind of mutual teasing was exactly what friendship felt like.

After refilling the teapot with water, the Boss sat back down and poured tea into both their cups. "Remember when I was away for a few days recently?"

"Yes, I ran into the Curator the day after you left. He said he exchanged some Warring States alchemy cauldron with you. Warring States period? Do you recognize that cauldron?" The Doctor, proud of his deductive skills, saw the Boss raise an eyebrow and knew he had guessed correctly.

"Yes, that alchemy cauldron was left by my master. There's a hidden compartment at the bottom where the other immortality pill was originally stored. It was meant for the First Emperor to take after he returned from his eastern tour, once it was confirmed that I had no adverse effects from taking the pill. Ironically, the First Emperor died during that eastern tour." A sarcastic smile tugged at the corner of the Boss's lips.

"Originally? So the other immortality pill is gone?" The Doctor could guess why the Boss had disappeared those days—he must have gone to investigate the excavation site of that alchemy cauldron.

The Boss nodded and sighed. "The compartment in the cauldron was completely covered in patina. It's certain that no one had opened it for over two thousand years. Which means the other pill was taken more than two millennia ago."

The Doctor and the Boss exchanged a look, both seeing shock in each other's eyes. If someone else had taken that immortality pill, it meant there might be another person who, like the Boss, had lived for over two thousand years...

"Who else would have known how to open that compartment in the cauldron?" the Doctor asked with difficulty.

"The attendants in charge of the pills knew, but they wouldn't dare tamper with a tribute pill..." The Boss felt his throat tighten and struggled to swallow the blood rising in it.

"So after Qin Shi Huang's death, only one person could have legitimately taken that pill..." The Doctor gulped.

"Huhai..." The Boss let out a long sigh, leaned back in his chair, and looked up at the deep, dark ceiling of the Dumb Shop.

The Doctor fell silent. He knew that the Boss's admiration for Fusu was matched only by his hatred for Huhai.

Although the chance of Huhai still being alive was less than one percent, even the slightest possibility would never let the Boss rest easy.

He thought to himself that he needn't worry about the Boss losing the will to live anytime soon.The two sat in silence within the darkness until the eastern sky began to pale and the distant clamor of the morning market drifted in.

"Thank you." The Boss's voice emerged just as the first rays of sunlight slipped through the door crack of Dumb Shop.

Having stayed awake all night, the Doctor instantly became exhilarated upon hearing those two words from the Boss, his grin stretching nearly to his ears. He understood the meaning behind the Boss's gratitude. "What for? You saved me, and I never said thank you! True friends don't need words like 'thank you'."

The Boss straightened up, watching the Doctor's sunshine-bright smile and unconsciously catching his good mood. "Oh? Then what are true friends like?"

"True friends share joy and sorrow, solve problems and face crises together. They slap some sense into you when you're confused, and firmly support you when you've truly decided on something." The Doctor adjusted his glasses, his expression suddenly turning serious as he asked, "Now, tell me your decision."

The Boss seemed stunned by the Doctor's words, exhaling deeply after a long pause. "I...I'm afraid I have to take a trip to Lishan..."

The Doctor shot to his feet, patting the Boss's shoulder. "I'll apply for annual leave right now and go with you! Don't refuse - I might be busy later, but this time I'm definitely coming with you."

Before the Boss could protest, the Doctor had already strode out of Dumb Shop's main door.

The Boss only had time to turn and see the Doctor's retreating figure, watching the warm sunlight spill over him and outline a golden halo, so sacred it was almost blinding. His objections stuck in his throat, never to be spoken. The Boss relaxed into a smile and closed his eyes.

Friends... huh?

"Luoyang spade, tomb-raiding talisman, Faqiu seal, black donkey hooves... Where did you buy all these things?" The Boss grew increasingly exasperated as he watched the Doctor pull items from his backpack. Just which tomb-raiding novel had misled him like this?

"Taobao! Shipped directly to our hotel - very convenient." The Doctor said proudly while continuing to produce various tomb-exploration essentials from his bag. He'd done extensive research before their departure. They were staying at a hot spring hotel near Mount Li, and he'd arranged for online purchases to be delivered there directly. Otherwise, he seriously doubted these items would get past airport security.

Though he was utterly amazed that the Boss had managed to produce an ID card to purchase plane tickets. The Doctor desperately wanted to check if the birthdate on the Boss's ID showed BC years, but didn't dare.

The Boss watched sideways as the Doctor continued unpacking ground-penetrating radar, metal detectors, gas analyzers and other advanced equipment. "Did you buy these online too?" He must have spent a fortune.

"No, no, I borrowed these from Curator uncle." The Doctor wiped sweat from his face, smiling cheerfully. "I just gave him a call - don't worry, I didn't go into details. When he heard I was out with you, he immediately sent them express. Actually, I think if he weren't attending a conference in Beijing right now, he'd probably have mailed himself over too."Boss helplessly closed his eyes. Although Doctor hadn’t explained in detail to Curator, since these items had been mailed to Mount Li, even an idiot could guess which tomb they were planning to covet. Was there any need to ask?

“What do you think we’ll need? When do we make our move?” Doctor asked eagerly. He and Boss had engaged in a fierce argument before coming here, and he had ultimately achieved a major victory—Boss agreed to take him to the underground palace of Qin Shi Huang’s mausoleum.

It was Qin Shi Huang’s mausoleum, after all! Spanning an area equivalent to seventy-eight Forbidden Cities in Beijing, the world-renowned Terracotta Army merely guarded the periphery of the tomb. If the ancient Egyptian pyramids were the largest above-ground royal tombs in the world, then China’s Qin Shi Huang Mausoleum was the largest underground imperial tomb—virtually the undiscovered ninth wonder of the world! Although figures like Xiang Yu and Huang Chao had attempted to loot Qin Shi Huang’s tomb, Xiang Yu only burned the structures above the tomb and dug two “Overlord Trenches,” failing to locate the entrance to the underground palace. To this day, no one had truly entered the underground palace of Qin Shi Huang’s mausoleum…

Wait, that wasn’t entirely true. There was one person, and he was standing right in front of him.

Boss looked at Doctor’s sparkling, starry eyes and sighed in resignation. “It’ll be clear tonight. You should rest first; it’s not time yet. We’ll set off after dark.”

Head aching as he surveyed the room filled with instruments and tomb-raiding gear, Doctor scratched his head in distress. “Do we have to bring all this stuff on the ground? I don’t think I can carry it all…”

“If these things alone could get us into the First Emperor’s tomb, the underground palace would have been looted long ago,” Boss said calmly.

Doctor was thoroughly deflated, but upon reflection, it made sense. While these items would surely be useful for an ordinary ancient tomb, the world-famous Qin Shi Huang Mausoleum naturally required unconventional methods. Doctor dutifully packed away the items, then glanced at the backpack Boss had placed in the corner. He figured Boss must have already packed the essentials, so maybe he could bring a digital camera or something? Heh heh…

Soon, nightfall descended upon the land. Boss picked up the backpack he carried with him, and Doctor also grabbed a backpack. Although Boss had said none of the items he’d prepared were necessary, Doctor felt more at ease bringing some things along—like a flashlight, water, and compressed biscuits, for instance. After all, Boss could go without food and drink for a long time, but he certainly couldn’t.

Mount Li had been known since ancient times for its hot springs, with the famous Huaqing Pool located on its slopes, so there were many hot spring resorts and sanatoriums in the area. They were staying at a private hot spring inn, and no one would notice them leaving at night. Doctor followed Boss deep into the mountains. At first, he didn’t think much of it, but as they walked farther, the distant lights faded, leaving only the moon and stars in the sky for company. Doctor had initially worried that Boss might not remember the way after two thousand years away, but seeing Boss constantly adjusting their direction based on the celestial constellations put his mind at ease. While two millennia were enough to turn seas into mulberry fields, the stars in the sky remained largely unchanged.

Fearing that the flashlight’s beam would be too conspicuous in the mountain forest, Doctor didn’t turn it on. At first, he paid attention to his footing, but eventually, he stopped looking altogether, trudging unevenly through the woods as he followed Boss. After more than three hours of arduous trekking, Boss finally came to a halt under Doctor’s expectant gaze.Although it was the depths of winter, the Doctor was already drenched in sweat. He took a sip of water and scanned his surroundings, finding no difference from the mountainous forests they had traversed earlier. The only somewhat conspicuous features were several piles of barren rocks scattered irregularly around them.

"We've arrived, but we must wait until midnight to locate the entrance," the Boss remarked. Despite covering the same distance, not a single drop of sweat beaded on his face; instead, his complexion grew increasingly pale.

"Alright." The Doctor casually found a rock to sit on but couldn't resist asking restlessly, "Are we entering through the mausoleum's entrance? Didn't they say Qin Shi Huang's tomb is full of traps? Could it be dangerous?" He decided to tighten his shoelaces a bit more.

"The main entrance to the underground palace was sealed long ago. Huhai naturally wanted to create the illusion that the First Emperor had already been buried. In truth, there are several hidden entrances to the underground palace. Knowing he would enter the tomb later, I sealed off the remaining entrances after burying Fusu in one of them."

The Boss stood with his hands behind his back, gazing into the distance at Qin Shi Huang's mausoleum. The burial mound formed a massive arc, resembling a flattened hill. He knew that although the place now appeared utterly desolate, over two thousand years ago, it had housed magnificent palaces and breathtakingly splendid structures, all reduced to ashes by Xiang Yu's fires.

In the blink of an eye, one could almost see the grand halls engulfed in raging flames; with a single breath, one could almost smell the acrid, choking odor; with a tilt of the ear, one could almost hear the heart-wrenching cries...

The Doctor looked up, observing the Boss's solitary figure.

A chilly evening wind whipped through, causing the Boss's clothes to flutter noisily. His Red Dragon Robe had once fit him perfectly, but in recent days, he had grown drastically thinner, appearing increasingly frail. The Crimson Dragon on his Mao Suit had expanded over the past few days, now covering more than half of the fabric. The dragon's scales reflected the shimmering moonlight, its claws sharp and vivid, seeming to writhe and flutter in the wind as if ready to tear through the cloth and devour the Boss whole.

It felt as though, in the next moment, the person before him might vanish from sight.

A sense of unease welled up in the Doctor's heart. He rose and stood beside the Boss, clearing his throat before pressing, "All the entrances to the underground palace are sealed? Then how do we get in?"

The Boss remained lost in thought for a long while in the evening breeze before snapping back to reality and replying indifferently, "After the First Emperor's death, the tomb's construction continued under Huhai's orders. The uprisings by Chen Sheng and Wu Guang were indeed driven by their inability to endure Huhai's tyranny. The craftsmen, knowing they would ultimately be sacrificed, secretly dug an escape tunnel for survival. Unfortunately, when the time came for the sacrifices, they were not buried alive, rendering the tunnel useless."

The Doctor shuddered at the tale, acutely aware of the countless lives lost on this land. If corpse transformation were to occur... He couldn't help but glance down at his feet, fearing a skeletal hand might emerge from the soil to grab his ankle.

The Boss cast him a sidelong glance and remarked coolly, "Watching too many horror movies is not good for you."A bead of cold sweat formed on the Doctor’s temple—he still wasn’t used to the Boss joking with him while keeping a perfectly straight face.

The Boss glanced at the moonlight in the sky and strode toward a nearby pile of scattered rocks. He pulled out an irregularly shaped glass bead the size of a ping-pong ball from his robe and slipped it into a crevice in the stones. The Doctor watched, wide-eyed, as the inconspicuous crevice and the glass bead fit together perfectly, as if they had been naturally crafted. Unable to believe his eyes, the Doctor circled to the other side of the rock and discovered a tiny hole, no larger than a fingertip, at the back.

“What is this?” the Doctor asked, turning back to look at the glass bead embedded in the stone. Under the moonlight, it shimmered with iridescent colors, clearly indicating it was no ordinary object.

“As recorded in Huainanzi, ‘The Pearl of Sui and the Jade of Bian He—those who obtain them become wealthy; those who lose them become impoverished.’ The Jade of Bian He is the Heirloom Seal of the Realm, while the Pearl of Sui is one of the Two Treasures of the Spring and Autumn Period, alongside the Heirloom Seal. Together, they are known as the Sui Pearl and He Jade,” the Boss explained, covering the radiant glow of the Pearl of Sui with his palm to prevent its light from standing out too much in the darkness.

“The Pearl of Sui? A treasure even more renowned than the Heirloom Seal? But I’ve hardly heard of it,” the Doctor said, his eyes still dazzled by the brief glimpse of the pearl’s splendor. He blinked several times to adjust.

“That’s because the Heirloom Seal was imbued with the significance of the Imperial Jade Seal and has been passed down through the long river of history. As for the Pearl of Sui, historical records only mention it up to the era of Qin Shi Huang, after which it vanished completely,” the Boss replied calmly, glancing up at the sky. “It’s about time.”

As he spoke, he removed his hand. At that moment, the moonlight shone directly onto the crevice. Passing through the tiny hole at the back, the light refracted repeatedly within the pearl’s crystalline structure. The Pearl of Sui began to glow visibly brighter, eventually projecting a straight beam of light.

Though the beam was faint, it stood out starkly in the darkness, as there were no other light sources around.

Instantly, the Doctor understood why the Boss had waited for a clear night to act and why the Pearl of Sui had disappeared after the reign of Qin Shi Huang. This treasure, it turned out, had been crafted specifically for the Mausoleum of the First Emperor.

“That marks the emergency entrance to the underground palace. Walk fifty-three steps west, then thirty-nine steps north, and you’ll find the entrance to a secret passage—a route the craftsmen originally left for themselves,” the Boss said, memorizing the direction indicated by the pearl’s beam before carefully prying it out and tucking it back into his robe. In the past, he wouldn’t have needed the Pearl of Sui to locate the entrance, but two thousand years had passed, and the landscape had changed. It was better to be certain; otherwise, with Mount Li so vast, how would he ever find such a small entrance?

In the darkness, the Boss furrowed his brow, recalling the phone call he had made to the Curator before setting out. He had confirmed that the Warring States black-gold alchemy cauldron had been handed over by a young man who deliberately asked the Curator to exchange it for something at the Dumb Shop.

Was it Huhai? Had he intentionally lured the Boss out? Was he still determined to enter the Qin Mausoleum’s underground palace?

“Boss?” the Doctor called out, tilting his head in confusion.

Suppressing his thoughts, the Boss replied calmly, “Let’s go.”

Not long after the two had left, a shadowy figure emerged from behind the pile of rocks and quietly followed them.

(End of Chapter)