Chapter Eighty-One: Yuan Long

There couldn’t possibly be such a coincidence—Yuan family… A-Long… if that’s not my father, who else could it be?

Because of Fatty’s earlier comments, a barrier had grown in my heart toward my father. So when I saw this man who called himself Old Fish, so solemnly wanting to speak with my grandfather about matters concerning my father, my heart felt as though it had become a drum, beaten wildly, thumping in my chest.

“If we’re talking about intelligence, no one can compare to your third son. But that boy is far too unruly; it’s only natural you didn’t let him inherit the family business. I thought you’d choose the second son, but in the end, you picked the eldest—who’s the least suited for this line of work. So, you’ve placed your hopes on A-Long, haven’t you?

A-Long’s right hand is born for a Tomb Raider. If your Yuan family were ordinary grave robbers, A-Long would surely thrive in the trade. What a pity… Of course, I’m not here to question whether choosing A-Long was right or wrong. When we learned of that matter, we were already too old, and some things can only be left for the next generation.

But do you truly understand A-Long?

Ha, you’re his father. Asking such questions must seem amusing to you. But, Ah-Xi, I think your eldest, A-Long, is no ordinary man. The first time you brought him to meet me, I sensed his thoughts were very complicated. When we handled those affairs together, he clearly knew certain things but insisted on pretending ignorance, always acting as though he realized everything too late.

You’re his father; of course you wouldn’t notice these things. But I, watching from the side, saw it all clearly. Many matters we never told him about, A-Long still knew.

Naturally, that could just be his intelligence. But three months before your wife married in, I happened to see him in Henan.

Ah-Xi, since I mention Henan, I’m sure you know where I mean. Not only was A-Long there, he had very close dealings with the leader of that place. How much he’s hidden from you, you can imagine.

Strictly speaking, this is a family matter for your Yuan household. But I truly fear that A-Long, in a moment of madness, might collaborate with those people. If he really does, the consequences would be more than a few families could bear.

I’m about to board a ship soon, so these matters are yours to handle alone. Old friend, farewell. Remember to burn a stick of incense at eldest brother’s grave for me, and tell him Old Fish is about to join him.”

I stared at the last word of the letter for a long time, unable to regain my composure.

Old Fish’s words couldn’t be clearer. It seemed my father had been planning something for a very long time. He could deceive even my grandfather; deceiving me would be even easier.

I never really understood what kind of person my grandfather was, but I remember as a child, whenever he merely glared, everyone in the house would kneel before him. He never lost his temper with me, but still, every time I saw his half-closed eyes, fear gripped my heart, and I would answer whatever he asked, never daring to lie in front of him.

My father, Second Uncle, Third Uncle, and Aunt were even more terrified of Grandfather, to the point of being deathly afraid. I remember the four of them, all grown adults, would kneel before Grandfather like children, and I’d often hide behind the house, secretly amused. Grandfather was almost like an emperor in our family, his word absolute. If he found out someone was hiding something from him, he’d probably beat them half to death.

Yet now, my father had managed to keep things from Grandfather.

If Grandfather had seen this letter back then, I’m certain there would have been some consequences for my father. But thinking carefully, it seemed more likely that Grandfather never saw the letter. Its contents would have been very important to him, and if it were me, after reading it, I’d have destroyed it, never letting anyone else discover it, not even the slightest chance. At the very least, Grandfather should have kept the letter close to him…

“Wait, hang on…” I suddenly sensed something was amiss.

This letter was found inside the blood-red cypress coffin, and when it was discovered, Fatty and Peanut noticed six fingerprints on the lid—those could only have been left by my father. If that’s the case, then my father should have seen this letter.

Judging by the timing of that pitch-black iron door, it must have been Grandfather and his generation who sealed the tomb chamber. If my father could enter, Grandfather should have discovered the letter as well. So the key question is: which came first, the letter or the fingerprints?

If the letter was placed inside first, then when my father opened the coffin, he would have found it. In that case, the chances of us later finding the letter in the cypress coffin would be nearly zero, because my father would have been more eager than Grandfather to dispose of it. So that’s unlikely; the letter must have appeared after my father opened the blood-red cypress.

Analyzing these things, I felt like I was investigating some secret agent. And combining Old Fish’s words in the letter, it seemed my father really might have, in some ways, betrayed Grandfather.

Thinking this, a sudden fear gripped me. If I kept digging and discovered my father was a thorough villain, what would I do?

“No, I can’t think like that. Father would never do anything harmful to Grandfather. I’m only seeing one side of things; I must not jump to conclusions.” I shook my head, warning myself not to dramatize things like those heart-wrenching TV dramas. Surely there were deeper reasons behind all this.

I’d finished reading the letter. Though it didn’t contain anything particularly meaningful for me, it still left me shocked. Some time ago, I could never have imagined that my own family hid so many secrets.

Next, I was ready to open the wooden box my father had brought out, eager to see what the blue-blooded dragon pattern—said to hide a map of the Four Mountains—really looked like.

Yesterday, when Er Lengzi came, Fatty had put the wooden box into the bedside cabinet. I opened the cabinet, intending to take it out, but suddenly, the hand I reached in with started to tremble.

The box was still there, but a white chill was rising from the cabinet; as my hand reached in, a bone-chilling cold spread from my fingers up my back. Looking closer, a layer of what looked like frost had settled on the wooden box.

When I took it out, it felt like I was holding a block of ice rather than a wooden box.

But less than half a minute later, when I tried to turn on all the lights in the room for a closer look, all the strange phenomena vanished—the cold, the frost, not a trace remained.

“This thing is indeed extraordinary,” I thought, and began examining the box’s exterior.

It was nearly thirty centimeters long, but only three to five centimeters thick. The surface was intricately carved with floral patterns, stunningly beautiful. Such craftsmanship would be difficult even with modern machinery, let alone in ancient times. Aside from much of the lacquer having peeled, the box was fairly well preserved.

But after scrutinizing it for ages, I couldn’t find where the box opened.

This was strange. First, I was certain it was a container. When I gently shook it, I could hear something rattling inside, and the seams around the edges clearly marked where top and bottom met. I’d thought it was simply two halves one could pry apart, but after trying every method I could think of, I couldn’t open it.

I considered trying to pry it open with something, but decided against it. The item was in my possession; I could wait for Father to wake up and ask him how to open it.

I sighed, suddenly wanting to go outside.

Having been trapped in the ancient tomb for several days, I longed for sunlight. So I simply changed into the clothes Second Uncle had left in the cabinet, took the wooden box with me, and pushed open the door to step outside.