Yun Guoqiang was hunched over studying a portable X-ray spectrometer. Even Old Yu didn’t know what this rod was for.
Using the spectrometer to detect the corrosion products on the rod’s surface, Yun Guoqiang deduced it was made of brass.
Xiao Liu glanced at the spot Yun Yi had dug and asked Yun Guoqiang: “With Xiao Yun digging like that, won’t she wear herself out?”
Yun Guoqiang looked over without being obvious.
“Old Yu already analyzed that area with ground-penetrating radar—there’s nothing there but rammed earth. My daughter’s just lacking exercise—let her practice.”
“!” That was just cruel!
By now, the two newly arrived laborers were competing with Yun Yi, determined to dig more than her.
Yun Guoqiang stood before the big pit and gave the two a thumbs-up: The daily wage isn’t high, but you two have an eye for work—with you here, the whole Emperor Ridge could be dug clean.
Yun Yi grew more frustrated the more she dug.
The yellow clay beneath her feet had been dug into a rectangular pit two meters long and one meter wide.
Why had Xiao Zhi gone to such trouble to make that wooden chest?
If she’d known she could transmigrate back at any time, she should have hung gold all over her body!
Thwack! The sounding rod came down. She planted both feet on the shovel…
To outsiders, archaeology seemed mysterious and alluring.
Years ago, when Yun Guoqiang was still an archaeology graduate student.
His first date with a girl was at an ancient tomb on the city outskirts.
The girl, in a fit of impulsiveness, actually agreed.
Two young people who had never held hands ended up holding hands in a gloomy graveyard—the girl was too scared.
Yun Guoqiang was actually scared too, but he pretended to be calm: “This tomb… is the joint burial of a Western Zhou noble and his wife.”
“They were so in love…” The girl’s voice trembled. She raised her hand and pointed diagonally behind him. “Qiang, look—fireflies.”
Yun Guoqiang turned his head—rows of blue-green ghost flames drifted into view.
Thud. His legs gave way, and he collapsed beside the tomb.
Nearly scared to death on the spot.
The girl thought he was romantic to the point of death, and later married him, giving birth to Yun Xi and Yun Yi.
“I’m not digging anymore…” Even if a hundred million were buried below, Yun Yi couldn’t dig another stroke.
Xiao Liu ran over and found Yun Yi sprawled in the dirt pit like an unearthed mummy.
“Xiao Yun, what are you trying to dig up?”
Yun Yi was exhausted. She drawled: “A noble metal with extreme chemical inertness.”
Xiao Liu was speechless—if you want to pan for gold, just say so.
“The professor has ground-penetrating radar—it can detect metal.”
“!”
The mummy in the pit came back to life. Howling, she scrambled over to Yun Guoqiang.
The excavated rectangular pit was covered with a green tarp, with several unearthed artifacts neatly arranged beside it.
Yun Guoqiang and Old Yu were discussing one of them.
“Is this rod a clothes-drying pole?”
“There’s no hook—how would you hang clothes? And there’s a lotus leaf pattern on the back. The craftsmanship is exquisite—it doesn’t look like something ordinary.”
Yun Yi stepped closer and suddenly said: “This is a pole for stirring petals in a hot spring pool.”
“How does Xiao Yun know?” Old Yu picked up the long rod, gestured with it, and found Yun Yi’s explanation reasonable. “Old Yun, I heard from the village chief that Emperor Ridge used to have a hot spring—high sulfur content, the water was a beautiful emerald green.”
Yun Guoqiang was fed up with the Xiao Family Village chief. “If he loves money so much, why doesn’t he develop a hot spring hotel?”
Yun Yi nodded slightly.
Old Yu knew the inside story and explained: “It fell through.”
Coincidentally, just as Xiao Family Village applied for a hot spring hotel development permit, the spring dried up. Before the approval came through, the water was gone—not a single drop left.
“Eerie. Too eerie.” Old Yu stomped the ground twice. “This is why they say there’s something under Xiao Family Village!”
“Teacher Yun, Teacher Yu!”
Yun Yi turned her head. Several familiar faces appeared in her line of sight—all staff from the archaeology institute.
“This was just dug up.”
Behind the staff followed two laborer brothers covered in yellow mud.
The experts gathered in a circle, conducting an on-site appraisal.
“Is this a bronze lamp?” Old Yu cross-checked the totems repeatedly.
The hexagonal lamp had auspicious fortune and longevity patterns carved on all six sides. Full of ancient charm—definitely not something an ordinary official’s household would possess.
A crack split open in Yun Yi’s mind, holding fragments of antique scenes: the four treasures of the study sinking in shadow, a hexagonal palace lantern casting light, igniting a patch of orange-red glow.
A man sank into a chair, idly twirling a pen between his fingers—round and round, monotonously.
Yun Yi couldn’t see his expression clearly, only felt a sense of desolation. Her heart clenched inexplicably.
“Is this a brush?”
The expert’s words yanked Yun Yi’s thoughts back.
Her gaze paused, landing on the object in Uncle Yu’s hand.
Across a thousand years, the bristles had long since worn away.
Yun Yi recognized it at a glance—there was no mistaking it.
It was the short brush Xiao Zhi had used.
Back when her soul had transmigrated into the imperial seal, Xiao Zhi had scrubbed her “rear” hard with it.
Yun Yi’s lower body tightened—phantom pain struck.
“This is a short brush. It originally had horsehair bristles.” Yun Yi put on gloves, naturally took the brush, and gestured with it skillfully. “It was used for washing seals.”
“Ah, yes, yes, yes—that’s exactly it.” The group of experts nodded their brick-like heads.
Yun Guoqiang studied his daughter, thinking to himself: Not having his daughter study archaeology was a mistake.
Seeing her hoist the sounding rod and throw herself back into frenzied digging, Yun Guoqiang couldn’t help but think: Could his precious treasure have been a gopher in a past life?
Right now, Yun Yi’s tiger’s mouth ached, her knuckles were swollen and painful. Finding the wooden chest was like searching for a needle in the ocean.
Then she thought again: Xiao Zhi’s palace still had the national treasury!
Any single piece of gold, silver, or treasure in there would be enough to spare her thirty years of struggle.
On the other side, the laborer brothers, equally addicted to digging, made another find: several bronze basins and other vessels.
“If there really was a hot spring, then this place looks like a bathing pool.”
“It could be an imperial hot spring retreat palace.”
Hearing this.
Yun Yi trembled.
Emperor Ridge, Fuyun Ridge.
This place was very likely Xiao Zhi’s retreat palace.
In that case, the wooden chest—and the national treasury—were not here.
The get-rich dream in her mind died with a splat.
All for nothing.
She washed her hands and sat down to rest.
Liu Ping: “Xiao Yun, does your shop’s hair tie set still have stock?”
His girlfriend was Yun Yi’s die-hard fan.
Yun Yi: “I have new ones in the car. I’ll give Sister Xiao Xie a pack.”
“How can I let you do that? I’ll pay.” Not being greedy was one of Liu Ping’s principles.
Yun Yi took a sample hair tie from the car. This style had sold out the moment it launched. The main image model was Xiao Zhi himself.
She opened her phone and pulled up that photo.
A neat back of a head.
Thin ears against the light, burned into clear outline—one could even see fine, downy hairs.
The hair was smooth, blacker and glossier than a girl’s. A ponytail tied with the cloud hair tie she had designed.
So natural and cute.
Cute.
After a long while, the phone screen went dark.
In that square inch of dim light, a lonely face was reflected.
Yun Yi suddenly recognized herself and felt a chill in her heart: How could a tyrant like Xiao Zhi be described as “cute”?
.
A full week had passed since she transmigrated back.
In those seven days, Emperor Ridge had appeared on the news several times.
The experts—mainly her father and the old men from the archaeology institute—had become familiar faces to the audience.
Taking the microphone from the reporter, the expert said: “This is an imperial hot spring retreat palace. The dynasty is currently undetermined. This is a major discovery in the archaeology world…”
The villagers of Xiao Family Village opposed the excavation.
Some villagers blocked the mountain road with boulders. The archaeology institute called the police—the conflict made local news.
Yun Yi recognized several familiar faces on TV—all people who had fiercely opposed the excavation back then.
At this moment, she sat cross-legged on the living room carpet, a mobile display rack propped beside her leg, filled with freshly made hair tie sets from the factory.
She set her phone on a stand and directly made a video call.
A mud-covered face appeared on screen, like a wild boar that had rolled in the mud.
“Dad, when are you coming home?”
“I’m waiting for Old Yu to come back together.”
Yun Yi didn’t believe him: “I want to talk to Uncle Yu.”
The camera was half-blocked by a mud-caked fingertip. The view swayed dizzily. A moment later, “Wild Boar Number Two” appeared on screen.
Old Yu wiped his stubbled face: “Is that Xiao Yun? Your dad took a big tumble in Pit No. 2 yesterday.”
“Old Yu, stop talking—don’t be a blabbermouth…”
“Dad, Dad.” Yun Yi was so angry the corners of her eyes reddened.
—”Teacher Yu! Teacher Yun! There’s a discovery!”
The screen cut and shook, shattering into countless strange halos, then went completely black.
The voice remained—the phone had probably been stuffed into Yun Guoqiang’s pocket.
“A scroll painting was found!” the staff member said excitedly. “Hidden in a wooden box—the wood might be agarwood! Excellent seal! The painting is superbly preserved!”
“Let me see,” Yun Guoqiang said. “Did you bring the specialized preservation tube?”
“Yes.”
“Quick, let’s look.” Old Yu urged.
“This is…”
“An emperor’s portrait.”
“So it really is an imperial retreat palace!” Old Yu said. “Old Yun, this emperor looks…”
Very handsome, right?
Yun Yi’s heart pounded. A guess vaguely surfaced.
The person in the painting should be Xiao Zhi.
But Old Yu’s tone shifted: “This emperor has angry brows and glaring eyes—one look and you can tell he’s a tyrant.”
Yun Yi thought: That’s right—he’s always executing people’s entire clans. He deserves the title of an eternal tyrant.
Old Yu let out a “hey”: “Why does he look so much like Xiao Yun’s boyfriend?”
“Stop talking nonsense. My daughter doesn’t have a boyfriend.” Yun Guoqiang was displeased. “Only a friend. Male.”
Suddenly, the phone screen saw daylight again. Yun Guoqiang’s big face loomed over the camera: “Why didn’t you hang up? Perfect—Yun Bao, look at this portrait. Does it look like your friend?”
Yun Yi held her breath and looked.
The painting paper had yellowed, the pigments long since mottled.
The person in the painting had sword-like brows and starry eyes, an imposing aura.
The exquisitely detailed brushwork captured the Emperor’s absolute majesty.
Looking closely, apart from being stern, the emperor in the painting had deep lines of age between his brows—much more mature than the Xiao Zhi she knew.
The Xiao Zhi she knew was vivid and three-dimensional. How could a mere scroll capture his bearing?
“Similar, yet not.”
“I think he looks quite similar. Doesn’t he also have a dragon robe like that?” Yun Guoqiang frowned, recalling that exquisite dragon robe, and suddenly found the matter suspicious.
This retreat palace’s era was unknown—there was no record of it in historical texts.
How had that kid’s dragon robe so precisely recreated the one in the painting? It was a one-to-one replica.
Old Yu: “Let’s check the records when we get back. Wonder which tyrant in history this emperor is.”
Yun Yi immediately objected: “Uncle Yu, how does he look like a tyrant?”
Old Yu didn’t take it seriously, continuing to critique the painting: “His brows and eyes do—fierce. His whole body radiates hostility.”
Yun Yi felt unhappy. Xiao Zhi—she could complain about him all she wanted, but the moment an outsider said a word, she didn’t want to hear it.
She defended him: “He looks warm and gentle—one glance and you can tell he’s a benevolent ruler.”
Old Yu was baffled. Was this girl’s eyesight failing?
Yun Guoqiang studied his daughter strangely.
His precious treasure’s eyes were clear and sincere as she stared at the emperor in the painting and murmured: “He’s not. He’s quite cute.”
Cute…?!
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