NOVPUBYan was feeling a bit nervous at the moment, afraid that Brother Bao might bring up something strange.
Surely… it wouldn’t involve anything supernatural, right?
"An ancient tomb," Brother Bao sighed deeply, though Yan and Zhu Jue inwardly relaxed.
"An ancient tomb? That’s normal. What a coincidence," she said, trying to reassure him.
"There’s nothing we can do about it," Zhu Jue added.
"You’d think Yangcheng isn’t Chang’an City! The experts just arrived, and we still don’t know what level of tomb this is," Brother Bao continued.
"Honestly, we didn’t even dig it up ourselves during construction."
"What do you mean?" Yan was puzzled.
If they hadn’t discovered it during construction, how else could it have been found?
Brother Bao’s expression turned odd. "The experts came to us first. They said based on existing records and calculations, there should be an ancient tomb beneath our construction site."
"So we were temporarily assigned to dig at the location they predicted—and we actually found it."
Yan and Zhu Jue exchanged bewildered glances.
Had the local archaeology experts suddenly obtained some precise intel? There was no way they could’ve just calculated it, right?
"Sounds unbelievable, doesn’t it?" Brother Bao asked.
Both nodded in unison.
"According to the liaison teacher, last year, workers at another construction site in Yangcheng dug up artifacts. One worker secretly took them to Bin City to sell, but was caught and confessed. After that, emergency excavations were carried out at that site. Recently, based on what they uncovered, they deduced there might be another burial site here."
"Who knows if they’ll find more elsewhere," Brother Bao mused.
Yan felt the story sounded vaguely familiar, though tales of smuggled artifacts leading to major archaeological discoveries weren’t uncommon.
"Then your construction site will be shut down for a long time," Zhu Jue said, shaking his head.
Archaeological work was a lengthy process—halting construction for years was normal.
She recalled how in Chang’an City, roadwork, subway projects, or mall constructions often got delayed by discoveries beneath the ground.
"That’s why I said I’ve got nothing to do lately," Brother Bao shrugged, noticing his friends’ eyes fixed on him.
Bao Hui looked down at himself. "What? Why’re you staring?"
"If you’re not at the construction site anymore, can’t you change your clothes?" Zhu Jue said helplessly.
"Eh, old habits," he replied, patting the dust off his pants.
Night fell, bringing relief from the daytime heat—though the evening wasn’t much better, at least the scorching sun was gone.
As the temporary "host," Brother Bao led his old friends on a nighttime food hunt.
"We’ll have dim sum tomorrow morning. I’ll take you to a local institution—took me a while to find it," he said with a grin.
"Tonight, we’re keeping it simple: street food to welcome you. There’s this hidden gem near the construction site—congee stalls, stir-fried rice noodles. The flavors? Amazing!" Brother Bao sighed with genuine admiration.
Among close friends, formalities weren’t necessary. Hearing his enthusiasm, Yan and Zhu Jue grew eager.
"Brother Bao, since construction’s halted, are you staying here for now?" Yan asked from the back seat of his car.
"Yeah. My parents told me to stay and assist the experts unconditionally—do whatever they ask. If we run into this again, we’ll have experience."
Beyond the construction site’s barricades, Brother Bao drove in, parked, and led them out.
"You’re still living here at night?" Yan glanced around.
"Most workers have been relocated."
Nearing July, the prefab dormitories had water and electricity, but they were far from comfortable.
Brother Bao had previously worked alongside the crew, tying rebar and sharing their living conditions—no special treatment.
"Two teams stayed behind to assist the archaeologists—security, clearing topsoil, transporting debris. The prefabs we built aren’t going to waste; we rented them to the archaeology team as their base. Air conditioning, private bathrooms, even a canteen."
"The archaeologists seem happy. They say it’s great—air-conditioned rooms with ensuite bathrooms. Top-tier conditions."
Zhu Jue nodded. "Your family’s site really does have good facilities."
Even the basic four-person worker dorms had AC and private bathrooms.
"Mom says you can’t cut corners when making money. Everyone’s human—good food and rest mean better work. Even prefabs can be comfortable."
Though the site was mostly empty, many lights were still on. Brother Bao took them to the liveliest part of the dorm area.
"Lots of stalls used to be outside, but with fewer people, most left. Only Sister Chen stayed—her food’s the best. We recently hired her for the canteen: housing, salary, and insurance included."
Eating at a construction site canteen at night was a first for Yan and Zhu Jue.
"Sister Chen, I’d like stir-fried rice noodles."
"Got any mung bean soup?"
As they approached, the air buzzed with chatter and the sizzle of cooking.
Sister Chen—a petite middle-aged woman in an apron and hairnet—was deftly tossing rice noodles in a wok, the aroma irresistible.
"Smells good, right?" Brother Bao grinned.
"So good."
"Bao’s back!"
"Little Bao’s here!"
"You two sit. I’ll grab the food." Brother Bao pulled out two red plastic stools for them.
Yan and Zhu Jue watched as workers in uniforms and dusty students ate nearby.
Brother Bao returned with a large tray—claypot congee, soups, and braised pork knuckle with ginger.
"The noodles’ll take a bit. Save room for dessert."
"Brother Bao, your canteen’s menu is diverse," Yan remarked, eyeing the spread.
"Sister Chen leveled up our meals. Fewer options than school, but tastier and healthier," a student at the next table chimed in.
"Now we’ve got daily soups, desserts, congee. The main chef handles three meals; Sister Chen does snacks and late-night bites," Brother Bao said proudly.
Yan glanced at Sister Chen—her movements were swift, her wok effortlessly airborne. Time had etched its marks on her, but her skill was undimmed.
Listening to Brother Bao, Yan’s mouth watered.
"The food’s seriously good now."
"Little Bao, noodles are ready!" Sister Chen’s voice rang clear. With an "On it!" Brother Bao dashed to fetch the food.
He returned with three steaming plates of noodles. Yan unwrapped her chopsticks and took her first bite.
The stir-fried rice noodles were perfectly cooked—neither sticky nor clumpy, mixed with water spinach and bean sprouts. The eggs had an excellent hue, and the noodles tasted dry yet satisfying in the mouth. The side dishes were fresh and sweet, blending with the aroma of eggs, making the dish utterly non-greasy.
Yan wasn’t sure if this counted as authentic, but it was fragrant and delicious, offering an extra sense of fullness at night, comforting and homely.
"The rice noodles are delicious," Yan said.
"Way better than what we had in Bin City," Zhu Jue remarked.
"Right? Feels soothing in the stomach," Brother Bao chimed in while devouring his portion.
"Just thinking about not being able to eat this soon makes me sad."
"Sister Chen, it’s almost time—you should take a break," Bao Hui called out to her.
"I’ll wait for Teacher Gao and the others," Sister Chen shouted back. Yan noticed Brother Bao glancing around.
As they spoke, more people entered the canteen.
"That’s Teacher Gao—a top expert from the archaeology institute. I don’t know the specifics of his research, but they say he’s the one who locates ancient tombs and stuff," Brother Bao whispered to the two of them.
Yan and Zhu Jue turned to look. Her eyes immediately locked onto the figure.
The man called Teacher Gao was clearly the center of attention, flanked by two younger men. His face didn’t betray his age, but his hair was streaked with gray and white, his demeanor vigorous. However, the exposed skin on his arms and face bore the marks of long exposure to wind and sun.
The reason Yan stared at this "Teacher Gao" was because she saw a familiar halo around him.
The halo itself was unfamiliar, but its golden hue was one she recognized.
[Chronicles of Time and Space]
"Teacher Gao, Little Sun, Little Liu, what would you like to eat?" Sister Chen’s voice grew even louder, brimming with enthusiasm.
"Are those two next to him bodyguards?" Yan nudged Brother Bao and Zhu Jue, mouthing the words silently.
"No idea, and I don’t dare ask. My parents told me not to pry," Brother Bao muttered, burying his head in his plate of noodles.
"How old is Teacher Gao?" Zhu Jue asked.
"Forty-something, I think? Almost fifty. Not entirely sure," Bao Hui shook his head.
Yan quietly sipped her soup. This was the first time she’d seen a halo-bearer of such an advanced age. She wondered how long his halo had been manifesting.
Still, this halo seemed safe.
Especially with what appeared to be two bodyguards by his side. Considering Teacher Gao’s age, professional standing, and the sudden discovery of this ancient tomb—as Brother Bao had mentioned—Yan strongly suspected that Teacher Gao had already reached some agreement with the authorities.
After all, if Brother Bao’s parents forbade him from asking questions, it had to involve state affairs.
They ate their fill at the construction site and archaeology canteen. Afterward, Brother Bao took Yan and Zhu Jue on a tour of the temporary dormitories.
Since it was already dark, they couldn’t enter the excavation site, and there wasn’t much else to see. Exhausted from their journey, they walked off their meal before Brother Bao escorted them back to their hotel.
"I’ll pick you two up tomorrow morning for dim sum—a legit old-school place."
The next morning, Zhu Jue received a call from Brother Bao, his voice unusually grave.
"Guys, I can’t come get you today. You’ll have to explore on your own."
From Brother Bao’s brief explanation, Yan and Zhu Jue learned what had happened.
There’d been an incident at the site.
To be precise, thieves had broken in the night before.
According to one of the thieves’ accomplices, they’d heard the site was shutting down for archaeological work and planned to steal leftover construction materials.
But somehow, one of them had wandered into the excavation area, triggering an alarm. He’d taken a fall—physically unharmed, but now mechanically repeating, "I was wrong," kneeling and kowtowing relentlessly.
Like a man possessed!
Over the phone, Yan and Zhu Jue listened in stunned silence.
Last night, it was all scientific archaeology. Today, it had turned into a horror movie.
With Brother Bao tied up by the incident, the two of them lost their appetite for sightseeing. After a quick meal at the hotel, they hailed a cab to the site.
As outsiders, even though they’d visited the night before, Yan and Zhu Jue were barred from entering due to the sensitive nature of the situation.
Outside the temporary holding room, they watched as Teacher Gao emerged, his brow furrowed.
Gao Zhiyuan instinctively reached for his pocket, only to remember he’d quit smoking over six months ago—no cigarettes or lighter to be found.
Old habits died hard. When faced with a problem, he still craved a smoke to help him think.
Instead, he pulled out a hard orange candy from his pocket and offered some to the young people at the door.
Ever since he’d reported his "special condition" to the authorities, Gao Zhiyuan hadn’t encountered many situations that made him frown.
But now, his worst fear had materialized.
The butterfly effect.
It all started over half a year ago. As a frontline archaeologist, keeping a daily journal was both a professional requirement and a personal habit.
Then one day, Gao Zhiyuan realized that every time he finished writing his diary, he could see another version—one dated in the future.
His diaries didn’t just record his daily work; they included personal reflections, anything he deemed significant. Major discoveries in the field.
But the future entries he could access weren’t sequential. Dates and times were random, often fragmented, sometimes vague.
This excavation site had appeared in one such entry—a major discovery, a salvage operation. The future Gao Zhiyuan had written with profound grief.
According to the future diary, the site had nearly been bulldozed by construction managers, with workers looting artifacts in the chaos. By the time archaeologists arrived, it was a last-ditch effort—a loss mourned by the entire field.
The first to alert authorities and the cultural relics bureau? A street vendor named Sister Chen, who sold stir-fried rice noodles near the site.
This site was linked to the Nanyue Tribe, a group scarcely documented in ancient texts, long considered more legend than fact.
The Nanyue people—the sorcerers of Lingnan.
The future Gao Zhiyuan had railed against the construction company’s lawlessness and shortsighted greed.
Even more bizarrely, the diary noted that those who’d initially damaged the tomb or stolen from it seemed cursed—falling ill, losing their minds, refusing food or water. Yet later archaeological teams encountered no such issues.
After Gao Zhiyuan "submitted" his future diary to the state, its contents were verified one by one. He was assigned bodyguards for protection.
When he read the entry about the Nanyue tomb, he immediately initiated protocols.
The present was three years ahead of the diary’s timeline. To his surprise, the company overseeing the land now wasn’t the same as the one in the future records—though construction preparations were already underway.
He didn’t know what had changed. But fortunately, the tomb—nearly destroyed in the future—remained intact, allowing for proper preservation.
Yet an anomaly had still occurred.
Just as the rumors recorded in the diary suggested, the young man who sneaked into the construction site with ill intentions last night had been "cursed" by the dead.
When the boy was found, he was clutching a piece of pottery with inscriptions on it—text that Gao Zhiyuan didn’t recognize.
The candy in his mouth hadn’t even finished melting when a student handed him a copy of the inscriptions traced from the pottery shard. Gao Zhiyuan held it, studying it over and over.
"What do you think these characters resemble?" he asked.
"Oracle bone script? Though they don’t quite look like it," Brother Bao took the paper and examined it, while Yan and Zhu Jue immediately leaned in to look.
Their eyes froze.
No kidding, the more they stared, the more familiar one of the characters seemed.
Gao Zhiyuan had only asked the question casually, but now he noticed the two youngsters were stunned.
"Teacher Gao," Yan spoke up.
"Do you know Professor Gu Jin?"
Gao Zhiyuan’s expression stiffened. "Student, are you referring to Old Gu from Ning University’s Archaeological Research Institute?"
"Exactly," Yan nodded.
"The shamanic script of the southwestern tribes that Grandpa Gu studies… it looks very similar to this."
However… she exchanged a glance with Zhu Jue.
"Now, this problem might not just be about archaeology anymore."
Compared to the shamanic script Grandpa Gu researched, these "characters" were something both Yan and Zhu Jue had seen before.
They had seen them on the pair of bronze bells Ding Ling had gifted them.
