Chapter 3: The Reason
"Second Brother, so what if that kid cheated us out of eight thousand yuan? We can just find another place and make another deal to earn it back. Is it really worth spending the whole day watching him?"
At the east exit of Luochuan City's antique market, two men squatted in an alleyway smoking cigarettes. The thin middle-aged man was the same person who had approached Su Xiaofan earlier. Beside him was a younger man whose face was filled with impatience.
The weather had turned hot unusually early that year. Although it was only mid-May, the temperature at noon had already climbed above thirty degrees Celsius. Even doing nothing but squatting there left them drenched in sweat.
Su Xiaofan and Zheng Dagang had guessed correctly. These men were indeed tomb raiders who made their living robbing ancient graves. People in their line of work usually slept during the day and worked at night. Today, however, they had reversed their schedule, forcing themselves to remain outside under the blazing sun. The younger man, unaccustomed to it, had become increasingly irritable.
"What the hell do you know? Do you think I'm doing this because of eight thousand yuan?"
The man called Second Brother, Wu Chuanbao, took a hard drag on his cigarette before grinding the butt beneath his shoe.
"That bronze artifact the kid brought out has never appeared on the market or in any museum. Even if it's a fake, it must have been copied from the genuine article. As long as we keep our eyes on him, we'll eventually uncover the real thing."
"Second Brother, how much did the buyer actually offer? Why are you taking this so seriously?"
The younger man was named Wu Chuanpeng, Wu Chuanbao's fifth cousin.
People in their profession rarely trusted outsiders. Members of tomb-raiding crews were usually relatives or fellow villagers. Decades ago, the one who entered the tomb was almost always the son, while the father stayed outside guarding the entrance. Sons occasionally betrayed their fathers for treasure, but fathers almost never betrayed their sons. Over time, this became an unwritten rule of the trade.
Although fewer people followed that tradition nowadays, most tomb-raiding gangs were still bound by blood ties or hometown connections, and outsiders were seldom accepted.
Wu Chuanbao's crew was exactly like that. Every member carried the surname Wu, and all were related by blood. Even the most distant relatives were still within five generations.
"Fifth Brother, the deal hasn't been completed yet. Don't ask questions you shouldn't. Have you forgotten the rules?"
Wu Chuanbao's expression darkened.
Their profession was highly specialized. Some members located tombs using feng shui techniques. Others dug the tunnels. Some entered the tombs to retrieve artifacts. Others searched for buyers. Everyone had a specific role, and no one was allowed to interfere with another's responsibilities.
Years ago, Wu Chuanbao had worked in southern China smuggling cultural relics and had built up numerous contacts. Naturally, he became responsible for finding buyers.
Whenever the crew unearthed artifacts, they handed everything over to him. He photographed the items and sent the pictures to his long-term clients. If someone expressed interest, he negotiated the price before personally delivering the goods.
Their operation could almost be described as vertically integrated. Since they handled everything from excavation to sales themselves, they maximized their profits.
Many other tomb-raiding gangs had no buyer connections and were forced to sell priceless artifacts for next to nothing, enriching only the middlemen.
"Second Brother, that's not what I meant."
Seeing Wu Chuanbao's face darken, Wu Chuanpeng immediately became nervous.
Within the crew, aside from the elder they all respectfully called Third Master, Wu Chuanbao held the highest status. After all, the selling price determined everyone's earnings. If the artifacts couldn't fetch a good price, they'd all go hungry.
"Fifth Brother, this artifact was specifically requested by someone from Hong Kong."
Seeing his younger cousin's anxious expression, Wu Chuanbao softened slightly.
After all, once the item was sold, everyone would receive a share. Although each person's portion differed, the accounts were kept transparent, so Wu Chuanpeng did have the right to know.
"They're offering this much."
Wu Chuanbao quietly raised one hand.
"And if the condition is good enough, they'll pay even more. Tell me—how could I not take this seriously?"
"Fifty thousand?"
Wu Chuanpeng was stunned. An individual artifact worth fifty thousand yuan was already considered valuable.
"Fifty thousand? Fifth Brother, your horizons are too narrow."
Wu Chuanbao sneered.
"Five hundred thousand?"
Unable to contain himself, Wu Chuanpeng raised his voice before quickly lowering it again after glancing around.
"Second Brother... Isn't this just an ancient woman's hair ornament? How can it possibly be worth that much?"
Having spent several years robbing tombs with his family, Wu Chuanpeng understood the market fairly well.
Among burial objects, jade and porcelain were the easiest to sell. They had broad appeal among collectors and were highly recognized both domestically and overseas.
Paintings were the rarest finds because tombs were damp, making preservation difficult. Sometimes murals or scrolls disintegrated the moment fresh air entered through the tunnel. But if a famous painting survived intact, it could be worth a fortune.
Bronze artifacts, despite their historical significance, were much harder to sell. The government's crackdown on trafficking such relics was severe, transportation risks were high, and buyers often used those risks as leverage to drive prices down.
"If you're asking me, who am I supposed to ask?"
Wu Chuanbao sighed.
"The buyer sent us an illustration of this exact object. Otherwise, why would I have let that kid fool me?"
He had been in the business for over twenty years and had handled countless antiquities. Anything freshly unearthed, he could usually distinguish as genuine or fake almost by instinct.
Yet somehow, he'd been outwitted by a young nobody.
Losing eight thousand yuan wasn't what bothered him.
The real problem was that his longtime Hong Kong client had specifically requested this artifact and had even raised the offer by another three hundred thousand yuan.
That left Wu Chuanbao no choice but to return and keep watching Su Xiaofan.
According to the buyer, unless Su Xiaofan possessed the genuine artifact, it would have been impossible for him to create such an incredibly accurate replica.
"If it's really that valuable, do you think that kid actually has the real one?"
Wu Chuanpeng looked toward the antique market.
"Second Brother, wouldn't it be easier to rob a few more tombs? Didn't you say plenty of Qin and Han tombs contained these things?"
The underworld had its own divisions of labor.
Although Wu Chuanpeng wasn't particularly brave, he understood that violence wasn't their crew's strength. Besides, Su Xiaofan clearly had plenty of connections within the antique market. If they resorted to force, they might not come out ahead.
"You think I haven't considered that?"
Wu Chuanbao replied irritably.
"These ornaments are usually scattered throughout the tomb. Archaeologists can recover them because they carefully brush away dirt little by little. If we're hoping to find a complete one, it's almost entirely a matter of luck. It's nowhere near as easy as you think."
He had seen fragments of these ornaments before, but never a complete specimen.
Something that small, buried beneath layers of soil, was almost impossible to locate without painstaking excavation.
Keeping an eye on Su Xiaofan was by far the easier option.
"Fifth Brother, Mount Mang hasn't been peaceful lately. Third Master ordered us not to enter any tombs for the time being."
A trace of fear suddenly appeared on Wu Chuanbao's face.
"Second Brother... I'll listen to you and Third Master."
Seeing that expression, Wu Chuanpeng shivered.
He knew exactly what his cousin was referring to.
Ever since the Lunar New Year, tomb raiders operating around Luochuan had suffered one strange accident after another.
It wasn't that the police had caught them.
Something much stranger had happened.
The first incident involved a crew from northern Sichuan.
While excavating a Han Dynasty tomb, their tunnel suddenly collapsed, burying the two men inside alive. Even the lookout stationed at the entrance was killed.
Only the crew member responsible for selling the stolen relics survived because he hadn't been present.
The experience terrified him so badly that he disappeared from Luochuan altogether.
The second incident involved a crew from Xishan.
After spending six months excavating a massive Qin Dynasty tomb, they finally broke through.
Their organization was well funded. The tunnel had been reinforced, and everyone entering wore oxygen masks.
Five men went inside while three remained above as guards.
More than two hours passed without any movement.
With dawn approaching, the three men waiting above could no longer hold back their anxiety and entered one after another.
Eight men entered the tomb.
Only one emerged.
But the survivor had gone completely insane.
He knelt at the tunnel entrance, repeatedly kowtowing without saying a single coherent word.
By the time nearby villagers discovered him, he had already died there.
The theft of a Qin Dynasty tomb—and the deaths involved—naturally alarmed the authorities.
Local archaeologists initially planned a protective excavation.
Unexpectedly, on the very first day, one of the hired laborers from a nearby village died.
Rumor had it that even military personnel were called in.
Eventually, experts from Beijing arrived and concluded that the tomb contained highly toxic mercury vapor. They determined that excavation was currently impossible and ordered the tunnel sealed.
These two incidents caused an enormous stir.
Within tomb-raiding circles, everyone knew about them.
Some claimed the underworld beneath Mount Mang had been disturbed and was punishing grave robbers.
Others insisted they had unearthed a jiangshi—a Chinese hopping vampire—that had drained everyone's life force.
Rumors spread everywhere.
People who made their living dealing with the dead naturally held a certain respect for ghosts and spirits.
After these incidents, almost no one dared rob tombs around Luochuan anymore.
Many crews relocated to Shaanxi and Shanxi provinces.
Ironically, the once rampant tomb-robbing problem around Luochuan nearly disappeared, and local public security improved considerably.
"Come to think of it... it really has been strange."
Wu Chuanpeng rubbed his arms despite the blazing sun.
"The last few times we entered tombs, I always felt like something was watching us. Second Brother, maybe we should find a real master later and ask for protective talismans."
Recently, especially around Mount Mang, all kinds of bizarre incidents had been occurring.
A few days earlier, something particularly eerie happened in the village where Wu Chuanpeng's group had been renting a house.
No one knew whether it was because of hormone-laced feed, but more than a dozen roosters belonging to the village's largest poultry farmer somehow managed to mate with several thousand hens in a single night.
The entire village was thrown into chaos, with chickens squawking wildly until dawn.
The incident frightened Wu Chuanbao and the others so badly that they immediately moved out of the village and rented a place in Luochuan City instead.
And because of that move...
Wu Chuanbao had crossed paths with Su Xiaofan's roadside antique stall.
(End of Chapter)
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