The Lost Tomb Vol. 1

Chapter 2: Fifty Years Later

Fifty years later, at Xiling Seal Art Society(1) in Hangzhou, my thoughts were suddenly interrupted by an old man. I closed my grandfather's journal and looked up at him.

"Do you accept rubbings here?" He asked me.

It seemed that he was just asking casually and I was very talented in this line of work, so I gave him a perfunctory answer, "Yes, but the price isn't high." This basically meant: if you don't have anything good, get out and stop delaying my reading.

In this line of work, I could close for three years and then open back up and quickly make enough money to close for another three years. I was used to being idle and hated dealing with customers who were half-knowledgeable. Later, whenever I saw those kinds of people, I would just act like I had nothing to offer them and would drive them away. But I recently had too much free time on my hands, and seeing that the peak season was almost over without anything good coming in, I was feeling a little uneasy.

"Then I'd like to ask if you have any silk book rubbings from the Warring States Period? There's one in particular that a grave robber stole from a tomb in Changsha fifty years ago and then got swindled out of by an American." The man asked this while looking at the collection of things on my counter.

"If it was taken by the Americans, then why would I have it?" I became annoyed as soon as I heard his request. "Of course, if you're looking for rubbings, then you can just go to the market to find them. But how can you expect to get hold of a certain book in particular?"

He lowered his voice, "I heard you have contacts. Lao Yang recommended you."

Startled, I immediately became alert. Didn't Lao Yang go to prison the year before last? What, did he sell me out? I became anxious and my back broke out in a cold sweat. "Wha...Lao Yang who? I don't know anyone by that name."

"I know, I know," he chuckled and pulled a watch out of his shirt pocket. "Look, Lao Yang said you'd understand once you took a look at this."

That watch had been given to him by his first love when he was in the Northeast. He treated it like it was as valuable as his own life. When he was drunk, he would take it out and look at it while shouting, "Ah, my beautiful nightingale!"(2) But when I asked him what the girl's name was, he thought about it for a long time before he broke down crying and said that he'd fucking forgot what it was. If Lao Yang was willing to give this watch to this person, then that showed that this old man really was someone of interest.

But no matter how I looked at him, I felt that his face was really disgusting. But when someone comes to your door, it's better to speak frankly, so I raised my hand and said to him, "Since you are a friend of Lao Yang's, what can I do for you?"

He grinned, revealing a large gold tooth, "A friend of mine brought something back from Shanxi. I wanted you to take a look at it and tell me if it's real."

"I can tell from your accent that you're from Beijing. A big player from Beijing coming to the south to seek my advice is awfully flattering, but why? Aren't there many experts in Beijing? It seems the wine-lover's heart is not in the cup!"(3)

He laughed, "They all say that southerners are shrewd. It looks like they weren't lying. Even though you're so young, you can still see through things clearly. To be honest, I really didn't come to see you this time. I want to meet your grandfather."

My expression immediately changed, "Looking for my grandfather...what are you up to?"

"After your grandpa stole that Warring States silk book from Changsha Dart Summit, did he leave one or two rubbings behind? My friend just wants to know if it's the same as the one we have."