"Shh!" Professor Zheng suddenly held up a finger. The screech of tires braking hard echoed from outside the window. Mu Feng lunged toward the window, pulling back a corner of the curtain. Downstairs, two black SUVs were parked, and the man in the black jacket was speaking into a walkie-talkie.
"The back door!" Professor Zheng reacted with lightning speed, fishing a key out from behind the bookcase. "Take the fire escape down to the basement; it connects to the next building."
Mu Feng grabbed the silver pot and shoved it into Professor Zheng’s hands. "Professor, you keep it safe. We’ll lead them away!"
"Wait!" Professor Zheng grabbed his sleeve and pulled a crumpled note from his desk drawer. "There’s a shipment of Han Dynasty bronzes at the black market in the south of the city tonight. Among them is a bronze *zun* with the inscription 'Second Year of Heping.' It’s very likely the genuine article!"
Before Mu Feng could process this, the sound of chaotic footsteps thundered in the hallway. Professor Zheng shoved open the secret door behind the bookcase. "Go! Now!"
The three of them scrambled into the narrow fire escape, the sound of heavy pounding on the door echoing behind them. As they ran, Mu Feng asked Qin Yue, "Why does your professor have a secret passage in his house?"
"He used to help the state recover stolen relics from Sanxingdui," Qin Yue panted. "His house is full of traps..."
After climbing through the basement pipes into the neighboring unit, Mu Feng suddenly braked to a halt. Through the window, he saw two tattooed men guarding the back gate of the residential complex.
"The roof." Mu Feng made a split-second decision. The three scrambled onto the terrace, dangerously leaping across laundry poles to the next apartment complex, and finally slipped out through the back kitchen of a hot pot restaurant.
Once they were lost in the crowd, Su Yuqing’s legs gave out, and she nearly collapsed to the ground. "Brother Feng, what on earth is going on? Is one silver pot really worth all this?"
"If this involves an international relic smuggling syndicate, it’s not just about the money anymore." Mu Feng hailed a taxi. "Driver, take us to the South Side Second-hand Market."
In the car, Qin Yue used her phone to search for information. "The 'Second Year of Heping' is the reign title of Emperor Cheng of the Western Han. If that bronze *zun* is real, it should be... Oh my god!" She suddenly covered her mouth. "The *Book of Han* records that Emperor Cheng once bestowed a bronze wine vessel upon the Xiongnu Chanyu!"
Mu Feng’s pupils constricted. If this involved diplomatic relics, the value was simply immeasurable! The Mystic Pupil between his eyebrows suddenly burned with intense heat, and a blurry image flashed before his eyes: a bronze vessel covered in green patina, with bird-and-worm seal script carved into the base...
At the entrance to the second-hand market, Mu Feng bought three baseball caps and black masks. After weaving through several shops selling old appliances, he stopped in front of a booth selling incense and candles. He asked as if reciting a code, "Do you have any Han Dynasty incense burners?"
The stall owner was a one-eyed old man; he squinted his remaining eye at the question. "You lot look unfamiliar."
Mu Feng pulled a black card from his wallet—a pass given to him last month for his help in appraising items for the Antique Dealers' Association. The old man’s attitude changed instantly, and he lifted the curtain behind his stall. "Take the elevator to the second basement level."
As the elevator doors opened, a wave of noise hit them. In the dimly lit underground space, dozens of stalls were arranged in a circle around a makeshift auction stage. A man in a Tang suit was shouting prices: "Ming Dynasty blue and white porcelain plate with lotus patterns, starting bid at eighty thousand!"
"Let’s split up and look around," Mu Feng whispered. "Qin Yue, watch the auction stage. Yuqing, keep an eye on the exits. I’m going to look for that bronze *zun*."
He wove through the various stalls, his Mystic Pupil pulsing with a faint heat. As he rounded a booth selling ancient coins, a beam of golden light suddenly pierced his vision. In a glass case in the corner sat a bronze *zun* the size of a palm, its surface deliberately coated in fresh mud to make it look aged!
"Boss, how much for this?" Mu Feng suppressed his excitement and pointed to a fake item next to it to ask the price.
"That one is thirty-five thousand," the bald owner said without looking up. "A Republican-era imitation."
Mu Feng pointed at the genuine bronze *zun* as if by chance. "What about this piece of junk?"
The owner finally looked up to size him up. "You’re an expert, then? This *zun* is..."
"Cut the crap, the base mark is clearly engraved on," Mu Feng scoffed dismissively. "Five hundred. I’ll take it back as a trinket."
A glimmer of cunning flashed in the owner’s eyes. "Little brother, this is..."
"Three hundred." Mu Feng turned as if to walk away.
"Hey, hey, hey!" The owner hurriedly grabbed him. "Five hundred, fine, five hundred!"
Just as Mu Feng was pulling out the money, a commotion broke out near the auction stage. He looked back and nearly cursed out loud—Zhao Jinya had walked in with a few subordinates, accompanied by a blonde, blue-eyed foreigner!
"The final lot for today," the host raised his voice, "a Western Han bronze beast-faced *zun*, starting price at eight hundred thousand!"
Mu Feng narrowed his eyes. The bronze *zun* on stage had a dull golden glow, clearly an imitation. Meanwhile, the genuine one he held in his hand, dismissed as trash, was erupting with sun-like golden light in the vision of his Mystic Pupil!
Suddenly, Qin Yue sent a text: "Zhao’s men are heading toward you!"
Mu Feng quickly scanned the payment code and stuffed the bronze *zun* into his inner pocket. As he turned, he saw the man in the black jacket and two others walking toward him. In a moment of desperation, he grabbed the box of copper coins from the stall and slammed it onto the ground!
With a loud clatter, hundreds of coins scattered everywhere. Taking advantage of the chaos as the crowd scrambled for the money, Mu Feng ducked behind the auction stage. Here, various "antiques" awaiting auction were piled up. His Mystic Pupil suddenly stung—in a wooden crate in the corner, a black box with peeling lacquer was radiating a purple-gold light!
"The next item is an unsold Song Dynasty lacquer box..." Before the host could finish his sentence, the venue lights went pitch black.
"Police! Nobody move!" The sound of a loudspeaker exploded in the darkness.
Mu Feng seized the opportunity to lunge for the wooden crate. In the red glare of the emergency lights, he saw the full text of the *Orchid Pavilion Preface* written in gold dust on the inside of the lacquer box, and on the back of the lid was the prominent collection seal of Emperor Taizong of Tang!
"Brother Feng! Over here!" Su Yuqing’s voice came from the direction of the ventilation ducts. Mu Feng had only taken two steps with the lacquer box under his arm when his collar was suddenly yanked from behind—it was Zhao Jinya’s foreign bodyguard!
"Hand it over." The foreigner spoke in stiff Chinese, his other hand reaching toward his waist.
Mu Feng thought fast, grabbed a nearby vase, and smashed it on the ground. "Fire!"
The foreigner reflexively let go, and Mu Feng performed a slide, diving into the ventilation duct. Inside the duct, Qin Yue was holding up her phone to provide light. "Hurry! The exit is behind the trash station!"
As the three of them crawled out of the duct, the sound of sirens wailed in the distance. Mu Feng opened the lacquer box, gasping for breath. Under the moonlight, a yellowed silk scroll slowly unfurled—Wang Xizhi’s running script looked like swimming dragons and startled phoenixes!
"This... this couldn't be..." Qin Yue’s voice trembled.
"A Tang Dynasty copy of the *Orchid Pavilion Preface*," Mu Feng swallowed hard. "The version Taizong ordered Feng Chengsu to replicate..."
Su Yuqing suddenly pointed across the street. "Oh no!"
Zhao Jinya’s SUV was roaring toward them. Mu Feng shoved the lacquer box into Qin Yue’s arms. "You two take a taxi to the Cultural Relics Bureau and find Professor Zheng!" He turned and ran in the opposite direction, shouting, "The silver pot and the bronze *zun* are with me!"
The SUV promptly turned to give chase. Mu Feng ducked into an alleyway, his Mystic Pupil burning hot. Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared in front of him—it was the one-eyed boss from the silver shop! The old man raised an iron bar and grinned viciously. "Kid, hand over the goods!"