The Company

Chapter 43: Bodhi Seed

1932, Beiping

Wei Changxu crouched inside the Zhonghua Book Company at Liulichang, flipping through a book while pricking up his ears to listen to the conversations among the old shopkeepers.

Liulichang typically had little business in the early mornings, so after breakfast, the shopkeepers would carry their birdcages and gather outside the Zhonghua Book Company to chat. Sometimes they discussed the tense political situation, other times they lamented how Beijing had been stripped of its capital status by the Republican government and renamed Beiping, and occasionally they vented their anger about the fair-haired, red-bearded foreigners. When the sun shifted slightly in the sky, they would all be called back by their shop assistants.

Indeed, Liulichang was Beijing's most bustling antique street. Since the Shunzhi era of the early Qing Dynasty, it had been a gathering place for Han Chinese officials. Later, guildhalls from all over the country were established nearby, and officials and imperial examination candidates often congregated here to browse book markets. The market gradually evolved into a neighborhood, with bookstores and antique shops from Qianmen and Chenghuang Temple eventually relocating here.

As the saying goes, people hoard gold in troubled times and collect antiques in prosperous ones. With the late Qing Dynasty's turmoil looming, streams of people came to Liulichang to exchange antiques for gold. Day after day, Wei Changxu observed how the number of shopkeepers gathering for morning chats with their birds dwindled, their expressions growing increasingly grave. Amid the current hardships, with the Japanese occupying the three northeastern provinces and advancing toward the pass, many had quietly closed their shops and fled south for safety.

Today, the old shopkeepers' conversation lacked its usual vigor. After exchanging a few desultory remarks, they dispersed. Seeing that he wouldn't hear any useful information, Wei Changxu tossed a few coins on the counter, grabbed his newspaper, and headed southwest through Liulichang. The streets were sparsely populated, the once-bustling lanes now bleak and deserted. Every passerby wore expressions of anxiety and fear. From distant Beijing city came sporadic gunshots—whether from clashes between soldiers or privately held firearms among civilians, no one could tell. Perhaps those shots had claimed more lives, but no one showed any reaction, all instinctively bowing their heads and quickening their pace.

Weaving skillfully through several alleys, Wei Changxu pushed open the door to Dumb Shop. The moment he stepped inside, a child bumped into him and snatched the "Beiping Daily" from his hand.

"Su Yao, how many characters can you even recognize? You'll still need me to read it for you," Wei Changxu curled his lip, choosing not to argue.

At nine years old, Wei Changxu came from what had once been a wealthy family. But in turbulent times, prosperous families often fell the hardest. When he was six, his family met ruin, leaving him a street urchin begging for food. He nearly starved to death before the owner of this antique shop took pity on him. Later, recognizing the boy's interest and insight regarding antiquities, the Boss kept him on as an apprentice.Su Yao was three years younger than him. When Wei Changxu first came to Dumb Shop, Su Yao was still an infant in swaddling clothes. The Boss said this child was also picked up by him during turbulent times, but Wei Changxu privately suspected the child was most likely the Boss's illegitimate son. Because the Boss was just too biased—even though Su Yao was young, the sheer amount of doting attention he received was practically blinding! Look! That white jade Longevity Lock the child had worn around his neck since infancy was clearly priceless! He himself never had anything so fine to wear!

Wei Changxu watched the six-year-old child lying over the huanghuali kang table reading characters and newspapers while inwardly grumbling. He placed the breakfast he'd bought outside beside Su Yao just as a young man around twenty years old emerged from behind the mica screen—this was the Boss of Dumb Shop.

This person perpetually wore a black Mao Suit. Embroidered on it with red thread was a vivid Crimson Dragon, crouching obediently on his right shoulder, exuding immense majesty. No matter how many times Wei Changxu saw it, he couldn't tear his eyes away. All these years, he'd never seen the Boss wear any other clothes, except perhaps adding an outer coat during autumn and winter.

Seeing the Boss wet a towel, gently wipe Su Yao's little hands clean, then place the meat pie on a sacrificial red porcelain plate, neatly cut it into six pieces with a small silver knife, pour soy milk from a jar into a blue-and-white porcelain bowl, and set it beside Su Yao—the entire sequence was performed with such practiced ease that Wei Changxu watched with burning envy.

Alright, he shouldn't be competing for favor with a kid three years his junior, especially since this snowball-like child was one he'd watched grow up. Wei Changxu dutifully washed his hands, grabbed a meat pie, and while eating, said cheerfully to lighten the mood, "Today those people were chatting about that big fire in the imperial palace before. Boss, do you remember it?"

The Boss was boiling water on a small red clay charcoal stove. Hearing this, he paused briefly before speaking slowly, "That was nine years ago, wasn't it? It started from Shenwu Gate, burning from south to north. Later, for some reason, the Great Buddha Hall behind Zhongzheng Hall also caught fire. The blaze lasted all night, reportedly destroying over a hundred palace halls and burning many rare antiques." The Boss's voice was always calm and detached, but when he reached the last sentence, even he couldn't conceal the regret and anger in his words, his phoenix eyes narrowing unusually.

Wei Changxu eagerly continued, "I was born that very year! My mother was startled by the fire into early labor—that's why I came out prematurely! I heard that while people were fighting the fire, they saw many figures—some handsome, some enchanting—dashing out from the flames at Zhongzheng Hall. They say those were ancient antiques that had cultivated into spirits and taken human form!"

This rumor had circulated among the common people, but it was the first time Su Yao had heard it. The child immediately lifted his head from the newspaper, his clear black-and-white eyes fixed unblinkingly on Wei Changxu, hoping he would say more.The boss, however, lowered his gaze and idly poked at the charcoal embers in the small brazier with a pair of fire tongs, speaking with indifference: "These are all rumors deliberately spread by the palace guards who stole from their own posts. Do you really think that fire started by accident? In those years, treasures were flowing out of the palace. Customers at Liulichang could even place orders for items from the palace—even the pearls from the empress’s phoenix crown or the hundred-pound golden bell from the Shouhuang Hall could be obtained, utterly brazen. When things got out of hand and the palace launched an investigation, they simply set a fire, claiming all the missing antiques had been burned to ashes, making it truly impossible to verify."

Wei Changxu curled his lips. In truth, this was something anyone with eyes could see. Even the emperor himself was leading the charge in selling off antiques. When those above behave unworthily, those below will follow suit—hadn’t everyone else learned to imitate this perfectly?

Su Yao, seeing that there was no more story to listen to, turned his attention back to the newspaper in his hands. After a moment, he lifted his head and asked haltingly, "Brother Xu, auction? What’s an auction?"

Wei Changxu leaned over to look and nearly choked with anger. Slamming the table, he fumed, "Those scoundrels! They actually want to auction off the palace’s antiques! To raise money for buying airplanes? Whose rotten idea is this? How outrageous!" Even at nine years old, he knew that although this was called a public auction, it was really about selling those national treasures to foreigners.

How laughable! If they couldn’t even protect the legacy of their own ancestors, how could they be expected to defend the nation’s territory?

"Boss! What should we do about this?" Wei Changxu turned to the boss for help. Seven years ago, when the palace was converted into the Palace Museum and opened to the public for exhibition, he had visited several times. In his eyes, not a single one of those exquisite and precious national treasures should be lost! Moreover, those treasures no longer belonged to the imperial family—they belonged to the entire nation!

The boss remained calm, his gaze fixed on the small kettle atop the red-clay charcoal stove. When the water boiled, he steadily lifted it and brewed a cup of Dahongpao tea, with three parts red and seven parts green leaves. Inhaling the tea’s aroma, he raised his head and met the expectant gazes of the two, one big and one small. A faint smile touched his lips as he said, "Don’t worry, this auction won’t succeed. Haven’t you seen how the newspapers are publicizing it extensively? If they dare to auction national treasures, the students will be the first to object. I suspect protests and demonstrations will follow."

Wei Changxu felt somewhat reassured. The university students in Beijing were passionate and often organized protests. Combined with the media’s influence, it seemed unlikely the auction would proceed.

The boss took a sip of the golden tea broth and sighed. "It’s just that the flames of war will inevitably reach here sooner or later. If those treasures are to avoid destruction, they will probably be moved to the south soon."

Wei Changxu and Su Yao exchanged glances. Unlike Su Yao’s bewildered expression, Wei Changxu understood clearly: like everyone else, his boss was likely considering fleeing south to avoid the turmoil.

In Wei Changxu’s heart, the boss had always been remarkably prescient.

Sure enough, the auction was thwarted by the students’ fierce opposition and protests, but a new controversy soon arose. Whispers spread that the Palace Museum’s antiques were to be relocated south. One faction argued it was imperative, but many more believed it was better to preserve their integrity than compromise—moving the antiques south would only unsettle the people and amounted to abandoning the nation’s territory.Wei Changxu watched the scholars in the newspaper engage in verbal battles, spouting phrases like "The lonely city remains, while antiquities flee in panic." He cursed his own lack of education, wishing he could pick up a pen and retort. It was the warlord soldiers who were failing to act! The antiquities themselves were blameless! Why should they perish alongside this city of Beijing?

What mattered more—human lives or cultural relics?

Different people would likely have different answers.

Though young, Wei Changxu understood that the artifacts in the Forbidden City could not be judged by ordinary standards.

They were the heritage passed down through millennia of Chinese civilization.

They were the culture of this nation.

They absolutely must not be plundered or destroyed!

"Boss, I want to join the army." After days of inner turmoil, Wei Changxu finally clenched his fists and declared firmly.

Su Yao tilted her head, gazing at him with childish incomprehension. In her young mind, she had yet to grasp how terrifying soldiering could be.

The Boss set down the blue and white porcelain lidded bowl in his hand, patted Wei Changxu's head, and said with a smile, "You're only nine. They won't take you."

"But..." Wei Changxu knew this was true, wishing he could grow up instantly.

"Don't rush. I understand your feelings. Your wish will be fulfilled." The Boss's enigmatic smile miraculously soothed the restlessness and frustration in Wei Changxu's heart.

Not long after, as Beijing's weather began turning cold, the Boss took them to the Forbidden City.

Due to the worsening situation, few visitors came to the Forbidden City anymore. The imperial palace, once resplendent with red walls, green tiles, and golden splendor, now appeared desolate and bleak under the shadow of war. The only traffic through the Shenwu Gate was an endless stream of carts transporting wooden crates and cotton. Seeing this with his own eyes, Wei Changxu realized the southward relocation of national treasures was already underway, and he felt a surge of joy.

He didn't understand political complexities, nor did he care about the reasons behind the relocation. As long as those exquisitely crafted national treasures could be preserved from the ravages of war, he was content.

However, relocating cultural relics was far from simple—it was a massive undertaking. Since Emperor Kangxi, Qing dynasty rulers had possessed extreme collecting obsessions, and their successors had followed suit, even intensifying the practice. Thus, the treasures in the Forbidden City were truly innumerable. Not all could be taken south—only the most precious were selected. The antiquities were roughly categorized into porcelain, jade, bronze ware, calligraphy and paintings, seals, ruyi scepters, snuff bottles, folding fans, court beads, ivory carvings, lacquerware, glassware, musical instruments, armor, ceremonial implements, and more. There were also countless books and documents: the Complete Library of the Four Treasuries from Wenyuan Pavilion, the Essence of the Four Treasuries from Cuizao Hall, rare local chronicles, various Buddhist sutras, Grand Council archives, memorials and official records, court diaries, imperial genealogies, maps, and numerous other complex texts.

As Wei Changxu walked with Su Yao, listening to the Boss recount each item like treasured possessions, he felt his head beginning to ache. When they finally reached their destination, he saw Forbidden City staff already busy sorting and packing the cultural relics into crates by category.As for why the Boss had come here, it was because professional expertise was needed during the packing process. Several antique dealers from Liulichang had been invited to meticulously instruct the staff on matters such as which types of antique materials required specific boxes, what additional padding beyond cotton wadding was necessary, and how to efficiently utilize every available space. In return, these invited antique dealers were to accompany the Palace Museum's antiques southward, which was considerably safer and more secure than traveling alone. At least they wouldn't have to separately arrange for train or boat tickets themselves.

Wei Changxu and Su Yao were two young children. The Boss had brought them along because he didn't feel comfortable leaving them alone at the shop. As long as they sat quietly on the side without causing trouble, no one paid them any mind. Wei Changxu, however, wasn't content to just sit there idly. With Su Yao trailing behind him like a shadow, he helped by passing ropes, moving cotton hulls, delivering scissors, and such. He was sensible enough not to touch the precious antiques, fearing that if he accidentally damaged any, they could never afford to repay it even if they sold themselves.

Wei Changxu was sweet-tongued and diligent, while Su Yao was shy and well-behaved. The two children quickly won everyone's affection, and within a few days, Wei Changxu was granted permission to browse through the antiques that weren't being packed. Of course, even those discarded antiques couldn't be taken away freely, but merely looking at them was harmless.

One day, he uncovered a large box of beads. He picked up a few and went to ask the Boss, only to learn that it was a box of bodhi seeds.

"Bodhi seeds? Are they the fruits from that bodhi tree in the courtyard of Yinghua Hall?" Wei Changxu recalled the lush bodhi tree, which in midsummer stood like a grand green umbrella, its canopy spreading gracefully. Having often overheard conversations among antique shop owners, he actually knew quite a bit. He was aware of the story where Sakyamuni sat in meditation under the bodhi tree for seven days and seven nights, attaining enlightenment and becoming a Buddha. He also knew that in Buddhist terminology, "bodhi" means awakening.

"No, bodhi seeds are the fruits of a type of coix grass that grows in snowy mountains. There are many varieties of bodhi seeds, and they are most suitable for making prayer beads." The Boss picked up a bodhi seed, examining it carefully as he said, "Look, the surface of this bead is evenly dotted with black spots, and there's a concave circle in the center, resembling stars surrounding the moon. The entire bodhi seed forms a pattern like the celestial sphere with stars clustering around the moon, hence it's called the 'Starry Moon Bodhi Seed.' This is also one of the four famous types of bodhi beads."

"Ah? Such valuable things—why aren't they being packed and taken along?" Wei Changxu grew anxious upon hearing this. His daily habit of browsing through the discarded antiques stemmed from this very mindset; he always felt it would be better to take everything along and leave nothing behind.The Boss fiddled with the bodhi seeds in Wei Changxu’s hand and said calmly, “I’ve seen that box of bodhi seeds before. They should be loose beads from the palace’s collection over the years, not yet strung into bracelets. These are silver thread bodhi, Buddha’s eye bodhi, phoenix eye bodhi, heavenly will bodhi... Well, although there are many varieties and they are quite rare—perhaps even blessed by eminent monks—bodhi seeds are merely the fruits of a plant. As long as grasses like river valleys don’t go extinct, more bodhi seeds will continue to grow. They aren’t all that precious.” The Boss’s expression was indifferent, yet his tone carried an indescribable desolation. He straightened up, gazed at the cultural relics and antiques being packed into crates one after another, and sighed, “But look at those porcelain pieces—the secret firing techniques have been lost. Those jade ornaments—the master craftsmen who carved them have passed away. Those are truly priceless heirlooms. Once one is broken, it’s gone forever…”

“This…” Wei Changxu bit his lower lip, wanting to say that nothing would go wrong on this journey, but he knew it would be self-deception. These past few days, everyone bustling about in the Forbidden City had worn grave expressions. Even knowing the road ahead was uncertain, they had to proceed with utmost caution.

The Boss had only been momentarily reflective and soon regained his composure. Patting Wei Changxu’s head, aware of the boy’s near-obsessive love for antiquities, he offered contrary consolation: “Buddhism speaks of the six realms of reincarnation. People are destined to die, and objects will eventually perish, so one must learn to be detached. Just do your best within your capabilities.”

Wei Changxu could hear the profound weariness in these words. He looked up and noticed the Boss staring intently at Su Yao, who was flipping through an ancient text not far away.

At that moment, there was a complexity in the Boss’s eyes that he couldn’t decipher—a mystery he would still fail to unravel even years later when recalling this scene.

Though coldly informed that the large box of bodhi seeds couldn’t be taken along, Wei Changxu refused to give up. Insistently, he sought out the director and, after obtaining permission, embarked on a task with Su Yao. The two folded square paper packets, placed a single bodhi seed inside each, and reverently tucked one into every crate of artifacts as it was sealed, praying the seeds would protect the antiques from mishaps. They also found time to string the bodhi seeds into bracelets, distributing one to every staff member, hoping they would safeguard everyone on the journey.

Wei Changxu wore a brown sun bodhi bracelet himself, Su Yao a white snow zen bodhi one, and the Boss a golden bell bodhi bracelet.

Then, on February 6, 1933, the first batch of the Forbidden City’s cultural relics and antiques officially began loading and transport.

Although Wei Changxu had known from the start that the journey would be difficult, he never imagined it would prove so arduous and fraught with hardship.They barely made it out of Beijing. The moment the trucks loaded with antiquities exited the Forbidden City gates, they were surrounded by students who had been waiting there. After painstakingly inching their way to the railway station, the atmosphere grew increasingly chaotic. Some radical students even lay directly on the tracks, attempting to stop the national treasures from leaving the capital through this act of protest. It was only after the Curator delivered a lengthy, persuasive speech that they were convinced to leave. Moreover, due to the widespread coverage of the southbound relocation of national treasures in newspapers, when the train passed through Xuzhou, bandits emerged attempting to rob the treasures. These desperate outlaws engaged in a fierce gunfight with the local military, only retreating reluctantly after realizing there was no profit to be gained.

It wasn't until the fourth day that the two trains carrying the cultural relics finally managed to reach Xiaguan in Nanjing. Soon after, orders came down stating the antiquities were to be transferred to Luoyang and Xi'An. Other antique shop owners who had accompanied the trains south all departed with their own belongings. Wei Changxu knew the Boss would likely do the same, but he had no desire to leave whatsoever.

How could he willingly depart when he hadn't yet seen these national treasures settled safely?

Though he hadn't uttered a word, the Boss saw right through his thoughts and only kept him and Su Yao behind.

"Why did the Boss leave by himself?" Su Yao tugged at Wei Changxu's clothes, visibly upset, his little mouth pouted so much it could have held a soy sauce bottle.

"Be good, the Boss went to handle the antiques from Dumb Shop. He'll be back," Wei Changxu reassured him, actually quite pleased that he could stay. He carefully tucked the white jade Longevity Lock hanging from Su Yao's neck inside his collar—wealth shouldn't be flaunted, especially in such turbulent times.

The Forbidden City's antiquities remained stored at Xiaguan Railway Station in Nanjing for over two weeks before being transported by ship to Shanghai. During this period, artifacts from the Beijing Palace Museum arrived in five separate batches, including treasures from the Summer Palace and the Imperial College. Having gained the trust of the staff, Wei Changxu was now able to help out, doing whatever tasks he and Su Yao could manage. When the final count of cultural relics and antiquities was tallied, everyone fell into stunned silence.

A total of 19,557 crates, containing tens of thousands of cultural relics and antiquities.

Wei Changxu was profoundly shaken by this number—and these were only the carefully selected items, every single one an extremely precious treasure.

Yet now he had no way to view those dazzling precious objects. The vast warehouse was filled with neatly stacked wooden crates, the air thick with the unpleasant smell of dust and cotton padding. Despite this, Wei Changxu couldn't help but feel an inexplicable sorrow in his heart.

To what depths of ruin must a nation fall before being forced into such a massive cultural exodus?

And when will these treasures finally be spared from obscurity, polished anew and displayed in museums for public admiration and reverence?

Will he... ever live to see that day... Can he ensure that every single one of these treasures remains intact in this world...

"Brother Xu?" Su Yao, sensing Wei Changxu's despondency, tugged uneasily at his sleeve. Now dressed in coarse linen, Su Yao remained fair-skinned but had grown noticeably thinner from their recent hardships, his once round oval face now sharpened to a pointed chin.

"Don't be afraid. We will prevail." Wei Changxu held Su Yao close, murmuring the words as if to convince the boy—or perhaps himself.

But reality always proves crueler than imagination.

Malicious rumors began circulating that museum director Yi Peiji was stealing the artifacts he guarded, shipping these antiquities out of Beijing to sell to foreigners. Repeated lies gain credibility, just as false accusations stick. Some actually believed these tales, and the stories grew increasingly detailed until even the Nanjing government issued a subpoena, scheduling a court hearing. The ensuing ordeal saw several innocent people imprisoned without recourse, only released long afterward.

Months later, Boss found them in Shanghai and, without mentioning departure, stayed to participate in the cultural relics preservation work.

Three years flashed by. The Nanjing government finally prepared the Chaotian Palace storage facility, allowing the Palace Museum artifacts to return from Shanghai to Nanjing. Wei Changxu had grown into a lanky youth still shooting upward, while Su Yao approached ten years old, becoming increasingly shy and introverted. After safely reaching Nanjing with the artifacts, they spent another year on reorganization. Just as everyone thought they could settle—with the fourteen-year-old Wei Changxu even considering leaving to join the army—1937 erupted in turmoil.

The 26th year of the Republic: July 7, 1937, the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, and Beijing's fall.

Then August 13, the Battle of Shanghai, and Shanghai's occupation.

The war advanced toward Nanjing. Sometimes looking skyward, one could see thick clouds looming ominously at the horizon, suffocating and oppressive.

The day after the Shanghai incident, the Palace Museum decided to continue relocating artifacts. The first batch departed for Changsha on the morning of the 14th. Boss wanted Wei Changxu and Su Yao to leave Nanjing with this shipment, but knowing Boss would never evacuate first, Wei Changxu stubbornly stayed with him. The artifacts were transported in three main routes: south to Hankou, then Changsha and finally Anshun; central to Yichang, then Chongqing and eventually Leshan; north through Xuzhou and Zhengzhou to Xi'an. Wei Changxu's group ultimately chose the northern train route. Reportedly, the central route's nine thousand crates remained in Nanjing until December 8 before finally boarding the ship Huangpu to depart.

Five days later, Nanjing fell, and the Japanese army committed the world-shocking Nanjing Massacre.

How much longer must they linger in darkness before dawn finally breaks?Wei Changxu and Su Yao squeezed into the gaps between crates in the truck cargo compartment, their bodies jostling unconsciously with the swaying of the vehicle. It was already spring of 1939. They had endured countless hardships along the journey. Two years earlier, the train carrying cultural relics had departed from Nanjing only to be bombed by Japanese air forces upon reaching Xuzhou. Fortunately, the train had stopped on abandoned tracks, narrowly escaping destruction. They also experienced bombing in Zhengzhou, but luckily emerged unscathed without any damage. After passing Zhengzhou, they diverted to Xi'an, then later to Baoji, only to be forced to relocate again due to intense Japanese bombing. The mere hundred-kilometer journey from Baoji to Hanzhong through the Qinling Mountains took them nearly three months. During the crossing, they encountered bandits and wild wolves, surviving multiple perilous situations. Wei Changxu felt that even military service couldn't be more arduous than this.

It was said the other two routes transporting antiquities hadn't been smooth sailing either. The water route to Chongqing nearly capsized in the Three Gorges, saved only by experienced boatmen's last-minute efforts. The route diverted to Changsha also faced numerous difficulties, narrowly avoiding Japanese bombing before ultimately deciding to redirect the cultural relics to the Emei and Leshan area.

Wei Changxu's group was also heading toward Sichuan, though they were taking the land route.

Li Bai once wrote: "The road to Shu is harder than climbing to the sky." Wei Changxu had thought the mountain paths crossing the Qinling Mountains were treacherous enough, but only when they reached the plank roads entering Sichuan did he truly understand what "the difficulty of the Shu road" meant.

These so-called Shu roads were essentially plank pathways - holes chiseled into cliff faces where stone or wooden pillars were inserted, supporting horizontally laid wooden or stone planks. These narrow pathways had limited load capacity, with each vehicle carrying at most three or four crates. Someone had to lead the trucks forward, sounding horns when making turns along the cliffs. The convoy advanced with surprising slowness - a mere two-li section of plank road required two to three days for a round trip. When Wei Changxu asked their local guide how long it would take to reach Emei at this pace, the estimate was at least six or seven months.

"Brother Xu, are you feeling any better?" Thirteen-year-old Su Yao had completely grown into adolescent form, his military coat worn ragged from the journey, though his face remained pale. With concerned expression, he reached out to touch Wei Changxu's forehead.

The entire harsh winter spent struggling through Qinling's mountain forests had taken its toll even on Wei Changxu's robust constitution. Su Yao grew increasingly anxious, even resentful toward himself. If only Wei Changxu hadn't insisted on giving him all the warm clothing, how could he have become so ill from the cold? Thinking this, Su Yao took off his military coat and wrapped it around Wei Changxu despite his protests. "Brother Xu, stay seated. I'm going to find Boss and see if he can get any medicine."

Wei Changxu wanted to stop him from wandering off - the fact they could ride on the truck was already special treatment, unlike others who had to walk. But illness had weakened him, and Su Yao moved too quickly. His reaching hand grasped nothing but air."This damn kid..." Wei Changxu helplessly closed his eyes again, his feverish body having halted all coherent thought. In his dazed state, he seemed to hear someone shouting loudly, followed by the piercing blare of a car horn. His body jerked violently as if beyond his control. Startled, he opened his eyes just in time to see the long truck he was riding in careen off the mountain path, plunging headlong toward the deep ravine below!

Thankfully, Su Yao had already gotten off the truck.

Strangely enough, that was the thought that flashed through Wei Changxu's mind in that critical moment.

Perhaps it was the surge of adrenaline in the face of death, but Wei Changxu quickly assessed the situation. If he jumped immediately, he might still manage to grab onto the wooden beams beneath the mountain path. Yet his first instinct was to throw the boxes from the truck downward. He remembered habitually noting the numbering on the boxes when boarding - they began with the character "Jing", indicating they contained the Classics section of the Complete Library of the Four Treasuries. Being books, they could withstand the fall, but immersion in the river would ruin them completely once waterlogged.

The three boxes were heavy, but during the descent - whether due to superhuman strength born of desperation or sheer luck - Wei Changxu managed to hurl all three onto the riverbank before the truck crashed into the water. With no time to check if the truck driver had escaped, he aimed for a densely vegetated spot and threw himself sideways in that direction.

The last image burned into Wei Changxu's vision was his bodhi seed prayer beads snapping against a tree branch, scattering countless beads across the dark blue sky in a strangely comforting spectacle. His mind relaxed, and then he knew nothing more.

"...Why won't you let me save him? This young man is still alive!"

"Doing so would alter history! Had you not traveled to this timeline through the Luoshu Nine Stars Compass, this person might have died here. Saving him could trigger a butterfly effect, setting off a chain of events that deviates from recorded history. Are you prepared to bear that responsibility?"

"I'm a Doctor! My duty is to heal the wounded and rescue the dying! How can I simply stand by and do nothing?"

"You must consider the bigger picture. If this happens every time, perhaps we shouldn't casually use the Luoshu Nine Stars Compass anymore."

"...Are you threatening me?"

"This isn't a threat, but plain truth."

"You!"

Who were these people? Why were they arguing? Luoshu Nine Stars Compass? Why did that name sound vaguely familiar?

Wei Changxu's consciousness surfaced only for that brief moment before dizziness overwhelmed him and darkness swallowed him again. After what felt like a lifetime, he gradually became aware of pain radiating from various parts of his body.

The pain meant he was still alive.

Gritting his teeth, Wei Changxu carefully assessed his injuries. His leg was likely broken, but fortunately the military overcoat Su Yao had wrapped around him before leaving had protected his chest and abdomen from worse damage. Truly heaven's mercy.

He wondered if the three boxes of books had been damaged.

In his semi-conscious state, Wei Changxu vaguely sensed being moved about, administered pills, and given injections. When he finally managed to open his eyes, the first thing he saw was Su Yao's tear-streaked face, her eyes red from crying.The Boss, who had also been keeping watch, knew that Wei Changxu couldn't speak yet, but understood from his gaze what he most wanted to know. He patted his head with relief and said, "Not a single book from those three boxes was lost or water-damaged, all thanks to you. Your leg is fine too, but you need to rest and recover properly. Someone saved you—do you have any recollection of who it was? We couldn't find anyone, but we must properly thank them."

Fragments of an argument flashed through his mind, but Wei Changxu shook his head in confusion. In truth, he hadn't understood a word of what was said.

The Boss frowned. The cliff was extremely dangerous, and it had taken them a long detour—a full day—to reach the mudflats at the bottom. The driver had already fallen to his death, but Wei Changxu was lying safely on the mudflats. His broken leg had been expertly set and meticulously bandaged, preventing excessive blood loss. The books scattered across the mudflats had been neatly stacked, one by one, even arranged in their original order. Only someone who worked in a museum could have managed that. Moreover, even the three bodhi seeds Su Yao had tucked into the book box, along with the dropped sun bodhi seed bracelet, were all recovered without a single one missing.

Everything was strange, but the Boss didn't dwell on it too much. Seeing Wei Changxu struggling to keep his eyes open, he urged him to rest properly.

The road ahead was long.

And indeed, the road was very long. It wasn't until autumn of that year that they reached the towering, imposing Jianmen Pass. Afterward, they traveled from Chengdu to Mount Emei, where they stayed for seven years.

"Our justice will inevitably triumph over the truth of brute force has finally received its ultimate proof... The Japanese emperor has announced unconditional surrender..."

Amid the crackling radio waves, exhilarating news spread, and for a moment, the room was filled with cheers and tears of joy. Wei Changxu squeezed his eyes shut, still unable to believe it was real.

Having been in darkness for too long, the sudden arrival of light brought an instinctive tremor and disbelief.

"Brother Xu! We can go back!" Su Yao joyfully threw himself at Wei Changxu. At nineteen, he was already an adult, but Wei Changxu couldn't withstand the impact and fell from the small stool to the ground. The pain jolted him awake.

This wasn't a dream! It was real!

"Yes, we can go back." Suppressing his overwhelming joy, Wei Changxu instead turned to look at the wooden boxes piled in the temple and said rationally, "We won't leave immediately. We'll need to stay at least two more years, until the domestic situation stabilizes." At twenty-two, he was fully an adult now, capable of quickly analyzing the pros and cons of the situation.

Su Yao carefully helped him up from the ground. Due to the accident on the plank road, Wei Changxu had been left with chronic health issues. The austere life in the mountains hadn't allowed for proper recovery, and he had grown increasingly thin over the years. Su Yao had treated him like a fragile treasure all this time, especially after the Boss left, as they had only each other to rely on.

"The Boss... probably won't be returning with us, right?" Thinking of the Boss, Su Yao lowered his head and pressed his lips together.

Wei Changxu gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze but said nothing.Seven years after they settled at Mount Emei, the Boss had left, only returning secretly to see them briefly three years ago. Reflecting on it now, Wei Changxu realized the Boss's appearance hadn't changed at all from over a decade ago. If he were with them now, he'd almost seem younger than them.

"Enough thinking—let's celebrate properly!" Wei Changxu stood up, pushed open the window, let the long-missed sunlight fall on his face, and exhaled deeply.

Soon, very soon, his wish would come true!

In reality, the journey back wasn't as smooth as imagined.

Although the Japanese emperor had signed a treaty declaring unconditional surrender, the Japanese militarists within the country were unwilling to withdraw. Coupled with the sudden shifts in the domestic situation and renewed disputes between the Nationalists and Communists, the political landscape became murky once again.

The sorting of cultural relics and antiques proceeded methodically. With the threat of air raids gone, artifacts destined for Nanjing were gathered in Chongqing, setting off only two years later. The journey was fraught with incidents, but fortunately, no one in their team was injured. They traveled down the Yangtze River straight to Nanjing. The Palace Museum in Beiping had been established on the Double Tenth Festival in the 14th year of the Republic, and after 22 years and two months, all the relocated artifacts and antiques were finally reunited.

The civil war in the country still hadn't ended, but Wei Changxu wasn't too worried. After all, these were internal conflicts and would never endanger the legacy of their ancestors. He buried himself daily in organizing the priceless cultural relics, often reflecting during breaks on the 15 years of upheaval and displacement. Every category of antique had traveled over 12,000 kilometers. That millions of artifacts could complete this long march without a single piece lost or damaged was truly remarkable—nothing short of a miracle.

Due to his relentless work, his health gradually declined, yet he toiled daily without rest. Whenever Su Yao urged him to take more breaks, he paid no heed.

By the end of 1948, artifacts began to be transported in batches to Taiwan. Wei Changxu didn't try to stop it, nor could he—he was just a minor curator. And what did it matter if they were separated? He knew these artifacts would be well cared for, even across the strait.

Some advised him to leave the mainland for Taiwan, but he declined, remaining in Nanjing's Chaotian Palace to organize the remaining relics. Su Yao stayed quietly by his side all along.

Until the following autumn, when the maple leaves reddened again, but he was left alone.

The Boss reappeared before him, still as youthful as ever.

Wei Changxu's lips trembled as he placed the white jade Longevity Lock into his hand.

"How did he go?" the Boss asked calmly, as if he'd long expected something to happen to Su Yao.

"On a ladder... he fell..." Wei Changxu closed his eyes, as if he could still see the scene from that night. "The warehouse was dark... to prevent fires... we didn't light any kerosene lamps... he... missed a step...""Hmm, not yet twenty-four again. He probably passed without much suffering, that's a relief." The Boss spoke softly, his tone carrying an indescribable melancholy. He lowered his gaze to the Longevity Lock in his hand, then looked up and stared at Wei Changxu for a long moment before sighing deeply. "Thank you for taking care of him, even if it was just incidental. Now that the war has ended, your wish... should have been fulfilled, right?"

Wei Changxu was dazed and couldn't comprehend the meaning behind the Boss's words. He glanced around the neatly organized warehouse as if suddenly understanding something, then relaxed and closed his eyes.

Before the Boss, only a pile of clothes remained. He bent down and picked up a Bodhi seed the size of a walnut from within the garments.

It was a Vajra Bodhi seed, the most precious variety among all Bodhi seeds.

Vajra signifies indestructible hardness with the power to crush all evil. Vajra Bodhi seeds are further graded by their number of segments - commonly seen ones have five or six segments resembling walnuts, with more segments indicating greater rarity. The one in the Boss's hand was a legendary twenty-two-segment Vajra Bodhi seed. Its reddish-brown surface bore scorch marks and was now covered with cracks.

"Twenty-six years ago, when the Great Buddha Hall behind Zhongzheng Palace caught fire, you exhausted your final spiritual power to reincarnate and take human form..."

"Now that your wish to protect these ancient artifacts has been fulfilled, I will surely choose a place with abundant incense offerings where you can receive worship and rebuild your spiritual power..."

From that day on, no one ever saw the young administrator named Wei Changxu again. Those who knew him well assumed he had left grief-stricken after his younger brother's accident.

(End of Chapter)