Chapter 63: Relentless Shadows

Seeing how astonished Yun Ketian was, Lu Ming scoffed and said, “Look at you, acting as if you’ve never seen the world. It’s just an animal head.”

“Lu, it’s not that simple. The twelve animal heads from the Old Summer Palace—though barely over a hundred years old—were stolen from us. They are witnesses to a painful history, carrying immense symbolic weight. Their loss abroad is a wound for every Chinese citizen.” As the son of a provincial governor, Yun Ketian understood the political significance of such artifacts far more deeply than Lu Ming, and naturally grasped their true importance.

When the Old Summer Palace was burned, the twelve zodiac heads were scattered abroad, their whereabouts unknown. Ever since, their loss has been regarded as a national humiliation. Over the years, countless Chinese have tried every means to recover the twelve heads, but foreign holders have stubbornly refused to return them, exploiting the national sentiment to drive their prices to astronomical heights. To this day, after relentless efforts, only four have been retrieved; seven remain lost overseas. Each return is celebrated as a grand event, a symbol of China’s growing strength. That Lu Ming could nonchalantly bring one back left Yun Ketian utterly astounded.

Lu Ming looked at Yun Ketian for a moment before finally asking, “If it’s so important, why doesn’t the state step in to reclaim them?”

“It was the nation’s property to begin with—how could we go and buy back what is already ours?” Yun Ketian replied. Lu Ming paused, thinking it over before grasping the logic. To pay for what was stolen from you—what kind of humiliation would that be? It would shame the nation’s dignity.

Having understood, Lu Ming said, “If the country values it so much, then here—let your father return it to the state.” As he spoke, he tossed the animal head to Yun Ketian.

He had already inspected this piece: it was merely a work of art. Perhaps it held special meaning for the nation, but to him, it was of no use.

To Yun Ketian’s horror, Lu Ming simply tossed over a national treasure. He nearly fainted from shock, hastily and carefully catching it. “Lu, this is no joke,” he stammered, still shaken, as he gently placed the dragon’s head into a box, though his face was alight with joy. Lu Ming’s consent for his father to return such a national treasure would surely be a tremendous boon, a priceless political resource—it was, after all, a deed that would bring honor to the nation.

At this moment, Lu Ming opened another box and took out a pottery jar. Yun Ketian’s eyes immediately lit up. “Wow, Lu! The Euphronios Krater—an absolute masterpiece!”

Lu Ming shot him a sidelong glance and laughed. “Not bad, kid. You know your stuff.”

Yun Ketian grinned sheepishly. The Yun family had a long and distinguished lineage; his mother’s side was a family of scholars. From birth, his environment ensured that his knowledge and perspective were a cut above the rest. He’d studied these masterpieces in specialized classes for years.

Qin Lan, meanwhile, examined the jar for some time, then remarked, “It’s just a pot. What’s so special about it?”

Yun Ketian’s lips curled into a cold sneer—he was about to retort and show off his erudition, but recalling the bruising methods of this fierce woman, he wisely held his tongue.

Lu Ming glanced at Qin Lan and said, “You don’t know a thing.” With that, he placed the jar on the corner of the coffee table, appraising it. “This would make a fine ashtray—big belly, plenty of room, saves you having to empty it all the time.”

Yun Ketian nearly coughed up blood. To use a piece worth hundreds of millions as an ashtray? But with Lu Ming’s word final, he dared not object, and could only watch helplessly as a priceless treasure was relegated to collecting ash.

To Lu Ming, it was just another piece of art, of no real value—so an ashtray it became.

Then he opened the third box. Inside lay a golden crown, set with a ruby the size of a pigeon egg, dazzling and magnificent.

“What’s this?” Yun Ketian asked.

Lu Ming laughed. “Stumped, aren’t you? Let me tell you—it’s the crown of that Pharaoh… what was his name, something like Carter.”

He couldn’t quite recall the tongue-twisting name, so he gave Yun Ketian a vague explanation.

Yun Ketian gasped, “Tutankhamun’s crown?”

“Why do you always have to make a scene? Are you ill?” Lu Ming snapped.

Yun Ketian smiled sheepishly. “Lu, it’s just that everything you’ve taken out has been so astonishing—I can’t help myself.”

He knew the tales of Tutankhamun—reputedly the most ruthless, mysterious, and powerful of all pharaohs, as well as the longest-lived. Scientists were still working to unravel the mysteries of his life and tomb, which remained unsolved to this day. Yun Ketian could hardly imagine how the enigmatic pharaoh’s crown could have ended up in Lu Ming’s hands.

Lu Ming, meanwhile, gazed at the crown with a thoughtful look. Of the three items, only this crown radiated a peculiar energy, arousing his curiosity and a desire to probe further.

After a moment’s thought, he poured his spiritual power into the crown. Instantly, he found himself transported to another world.

Everything here was shrouded in gray—the sky, the earth. Dust blanketed the ground, where the bones of countless animals lay scattered, some piled into heaps like small mountains.

Perplexed, Lu Ming surveyed the scene. He realized that here, he existed in the form of energy rather than a physical body. Experimentally, he moved, and thus began to drift across this desolate realm. Soon, he sensed a force summoning him and, unable to resist, floated toward its source.

Before long, he saw, not far ahead, the massive figure of someone draped in a cloak and holding a staff, standing before a towering temple. The figure was dozens of meters tall—a giant.

The summoning force emanated from this colossal presence. Lu Ming drifted closer, staring up.

The figure slowly turned. Lu Ming saw to his shock that it was a gigantic skeleton. The skeleton gripped a staff, wore a crown upon its head, and its eye sockets blazed with ghostly blue flames as it fixed its gaze on him.

A surge of fear and a sense of mortal danger overwhelmed Lu Ming. As he realized the threat, the immense skull’s jaws suddenly opened, unleashing a powerful suction that dragged him toward its mouth.

Desperately, Lu Ming mustered all his strength to resist, but it was useless. Seeing he was about to be swallowed, in a moment of panic, he abandoned resistance and, instead, hurled himself directly at the giant skeleton.

With a thunderous crash, Lu Ming—existing as pure spiritual force—slammed into the skeleton’s chest, delivering a full-force blow.

The skeleton staggered from the impact, and the suction vanished. Lu Ming seized the chance to flee back the way he’d come, with the skeleton striding after him in pursuit.

Exerting every ounce of energy, Lu Ming finally returned to his entry point just before the skeleton caught him—and vanished.

The skeleton, watching Lu Ming disappear, shook its head and turned away.

Back in the shop, Yun Ketian and Qin Lan anxiously watched the petrified Lu Ming, unsure what to do. For half an hour he had been in this state, and they could neither guess the cause nor find a remedy.

At that moment, Lu Ming’s body jolted. He opened his eyes wide, blood seeping from his nose, ears, and mouth.

“What’s wrong?” Yun Ketian and Qin Lan asked, alarmed by his sudden awakening and the blood streaming from his face.

Lu Ming wiped the blood from his lips, cursing fiercely, “Damn it, trying to play dirty with me? If I don’t settle this today, I’m not worthy of my name!”

Qin Lan frowned. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing—just got tricked by that relentless pharaoh. I’m going to deal with him right now.”