November 4th.
It had been 9 days since Yun Yi transmigrated back.
Yun Guoqiang, who hadn’t shown his face in a long time, opened the front door and kicked off his mud-speckled hiking boots.
“Yun Bao—”
His daughter didn’t come downstairs to greet him as usual.
The empty living room was silent.
It was as if he had returned to the time when his wife was divorcing him and had taken the two children back to her parents’ home.
Yun Guoqiang shuffled in his slippers and tracked her down to the study.
“Daughter?”
“Dad.” Yun Yi’s expression was listless. She was sunk into a chair, clutching a history comic book to her chest.
Back then, Xiao Zhi had sat in the same spot, holding the same book. After learning that the Yan dynasty didn’t exist in history, his eyes had been full of shock.
Yun Guoqiang recognized the book: “Your mother bought this for you.”
“Ex-wife,” Yun Yi corrected him for the ten-thousandth time.
Yun Guoqiang brought over a printed copy of the emperor’s portrait and spread it across the desk.
The person in the painting stood with sleeves clasped, silently meeting her gaze.
Those smooth dragon-robe sleeves—she had personally tugged on them.
Inside the sleeve hem was a hidden pocket. That was how Xiao Zhi had hidden the little gourd in his sleeve, taking it out to play with from time to time. She remembered it all.
Later, he had strung the gourd together with a jade pendant and hung it at his waist daily.
The ministers all imitated him.
For a time, every household in the capital raced to plant gourds.
Yun Guoqiang’s expression was rarely this serious: “The dragon robe in the painting is the same style as your friend’s. Where is your friend?”
“He went home.”
Yun Guoqiang’s colleagues had stayed up several nights but still couldn’t determine which dynasty the emperor in the painting belonged to.
“Can you call him over? Dad wants to meet him.”
“He can’t come.” Yun Yi turned her face toward the window. The view was unchanged—a corner of the backyard, where the tulips had yet to sprout.
By her calculation, she had been back nine days, which meant three full seasons had passed in Yan.
Yun Yi shifted her gaze away, unwilling to look at that patch of flowerbed.
Seeing his daughter less lively than usual, Yun Guoqiang made casual conversation: “He’s not a local?”
The Emperor had grown up in the capital. Yun Yi replied: “He’s a local.”
“Dad will treat him to a meal.”
Seeing his daughter’s delayed reactions, Yun Guoqiang fired off question after question.
Things like “works out of town” or “went abroad” and so on.
“Dad, stop interrogating. Xiao Zhi really can’t come.” A thin mist rose in Yun Yi’s eyes.
Yun Guoqiang’s fists hardened.
Can’t come was an excuse!
Clearly he had broken up with his precious treasure!
He never should have believed that “male friend” nonsense!
Yun Guoqiang cursed and grumbled.
Yun Yi truly didn’t understand—where did a middle-aged man who dug dirt day and night at an excavation site get so much energy?
He even had the spare energy to video call his eldest son abroad.
“Yun Xi, get your mother on the phone.”
“Dad, just call her directly.” Yun Xi didn’t want to become a “Dad-to-Mom relay.”
“Your mother blocked me.”
“…”
When dividing assets in the divorce, Yun Yi’s mother had taken the family’s golden retriever. It certainly hadn’t forgotten its former master’s voice.
A wet dog nose appeared on screen.
—Smooch.
Kelu carried the phone in his mouth into another room.
Cheng Su’s face appeared in the video call: “Yun Guoqiang, what do you want?”
“Your daughter got dumped. Her boyfriend broke up with her.”
The atmosphere froze for a moment, like the calm before a storm.
For once, the couple was in sync.
“Which stinking brat! Son, book a flight!”
“Mom… calm down.”
“Your sister got dumped!”
“Which bastard!”
“Woof woof!” Kelu cursed filthily.
The estranged family rarely shared such unity. Yun Yi listened to her parents, brother, and dog denounce Xiao Zhi.
.
Someone said: “Start a Tencent meeting.”
Three people and one dog joined the meeting.
Meeting topic: Curse the heartless scoundrel to death.
Yun Yi felt a lingering fear—thankfully Xiao Zhi wasn’t here.
She looked at the back of Yun Guoqiang’s slightly balding head: “Loving family, may I go out for a bit?”
Yun Guoqiang waved his hand.
The mother and son in the video nodded.
Even the dog ignored its little master.
Mom: “Where’s that stinking brat from?”
Dad: “Seems like a local.”
Mom: “Seems? What kind of father are you! Your daughter likes someone and you don’t even do a background check?”
Dog: “Woof!”
Yun Yi retreated outside the door.
This was a condemnation meeting that didn’t require the subject’s participation.
.
The bank.
Yun Yi opened the safe deposit box.
The dragon robe lay quietly inside.
On the ink-black background, the golden coiled dragon was strikingly visible.
Yun Yi brushed the dragon’s eye and let out a breath of relief.
The clothes were still there.
She tilted her head slightly and secretly sniffed the dragon robe.
The scent she remembered—somewhere between sandalwood and citrus—was gone.
Only the gardenia fragrance of laundry scent beads remained.
Realizing her behavior was improper, Yun Yi suddenly turned around. Around her were only rows of silver safe deposit boxes—the place was empty.
“So what?” she said defiantly to herself. “Peeking at the dragon’s face is punishable by eye-gouging. What’s the crime for smelling the dragon robe? Nose amputation?”
After returning home, she carefully hung the dragon robe in her wardrobe.
In the study separated by a wall, the meeting content had evolved into “Condemning Yun Guoqiang.”
“Have you ever cared about your daughter? All you see are dead people’s tombs. Do you still want a living family?”
“Have you ever cared about the family? Did you ever once wash your son’s or daughter’s diapers?”
The family members, separated by the Pacific Ocean, had no idea Yun Yi had secretly gone out.
Daoist Xiao’s notebook was still on the “IOU” page.
The safe deposit box with an annual fee of 280 yuan—Yun Yi had rented it for one year. Xiao Zhi needed to repay 280 taels of gold within one year.
The signature line was still blank.
She picked up the pen and drew an X on the signature line.
The condemnation from the study next door gradually ceased.
Yun Yi threw herself into work.
She adjusted the ambient light, set up her phone, and began recording a study video. This was her daily routine as a study blogger.
After Cheng Su and Yun Guoqiang divorced, she settled in the United States, and Yun Xi had also gone there for further studies.
Both had urged her countless times to take the IELTS, apply for graduate school, and join them abroad.
The vocabulary words she had learned so well recently—why couldn’t she memorize them now?
Yun Yi wrote and paused in her vocabulary book: emperor, empress.
The image of the Emperor in his dragon robe at morning court inexplicably popped into her mind.
She abruptly put down the pen and said in frustration: “Memorizing vocabulary is so painful.”
Having been scolded across the ocean by his ex-wife, Yun Guoqiang, posing as a nanny, took the clothes out of the dryer.
He observed from the doorway for a minute, confirmed his daughter wasn’t recording a video, then carefully entered her room.
“Dad didn’t interrupt your work, did he?”
“Dad.” Yun Yi turned around and comforted him. “Mom didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“Heh heh, my wife scolded me to satisfaction.”
“…” Fine, she had worried for nothing.
Yun Guoqiang clumsily opened the wardrobe door.
His hand paused. His gaze landed on a dust bag.
“Your friend left—why did he leave this… clothing at our place?”
He had guarded against everything but hadn’t guarded against his father, who never did housework.
Yun Yi: “You…”
Yun Guoqiang blocked the wardrobe: “Let Dad take one look. Just one.”
He was a cultural relic fanatic. Ever since he first laid eyes on the dragon robe, he couldn’t forget it.
Yun Guoqiang spread the dragon robe flat on Yun Yi’s bed.
The coiled dragon woven in gold crouched on the dusty-pink bedding, softening its sharp, unstoppable aura.
It looked soft and plush, like an obedient, well-behaved four-legged snake.
Yun Guoqiang stroked the embroidery on the dragon robe obsessively. The voice kept repeating in his head: “This is the real thing.”
But reason told him this robe was very new.
Yet the kesi silk materials and craftsmanship—modern times couldn’t replicate them.
Yun Yi, of course, knew it was real. She was just racking her brain over how to explain that Xiao Zhi wasn’t a tomb robber.
“That kid—was his ancestor an emperor? Dad’s excavated so many tombs—what haven’t I seen?”
Yun Guoqiang sat cross-legged on the carpet, his smile calm and sincere.
Where should she even begin?
“Dad, do you know the Yan dynasty?”
Yan dynasty again. The lion-faced incense burner the homestay owner had asked Yun Guoqiang to appraise was said to have been passed down from the Yan dynasty.
Yun Guoqiang didn’t interrupt. From his daughter’s tightly knit brows, he could tell the child had a lot bottled up inside.
Yun Yi told him about her soul transmigrating to Yan, then about Xiao Zhi coming to the modern era.
Yun Guoqiang grasped the key points: “The car Mom and Dad bought you—Xiao Zhi smashed it, so that kid never paid for it?”
“Dad!”
“Alright, alright.” Yun Guoqiang bowed to Yun Yi, signaling her to continue.
When Yun Yi got to the wooden chest, Yun Guoqiang’s expression turned resentful.
“Dad’s going to dig right now!” He’d dig three feet deep to find it!
“Haha, how are you the same as me?” Yun Yi’s tightly knit brows relaxed, revealing her first smile in a long time.
“That’s called father-daughter telepathy.” Yun Guoqiang rubbed his daughter’s head. “Look at how anxious my precious treasure is. Give Dad that Xiao-somebody’s phone number—Dad will call him right now.”
“He doesn’t have a phone.” How would an ancient person have a cell phone?
“When your mom and I divorced, all she did was block me! That kid actually changed his number? I’ll kill him!”
See? He still didn’t believe her. Yun Yi was out of ideas.
.
More and more artifacts were unearthed from the retreat palace.
Facing the artifacts, Yun Guoqiang often thought of his daughter’s transmigration story, the characters in it so vivid.
He attributed it all to “the child not forgetting everything cleanly at birth.”
The retreat palace ruins were vast. After the archaeology institute reported it, approval came quickly.
The government sent a work team to communicate with Xiao Family Village.
The excavation was now set in stone.
The excavation site grew livelier.
Not only were there staff from all sides, but also villagers watching.
The village chief’s attitude toward Yun Guoqiang had changed.
“Teacher Yun,” the village chief brought some men, “I heard your archaeology team is still hiring? These few—they’d just be playing mahjong at home anyway. I brought them to help you dig.”
The excavation site was indeed short-handed.
Yun Guoqiang wasn’t picky. He personally led them down to Pit No. 1, gave brief instructions, and they began digging enthusiastically.
A transparent glass room was set up beside the pit, fully equipped with tables, chairs, and related equipment.
The institute’s staff bustled about.
“That portrait has a badly damaged corner—right where the signature is. The conservator is working overtime.”
“The painting paper is brittle. Be extremely careful during restoration.”
Someone still wasn’t reassured and insisted the conservator sync the restoration progress to the computer.
The village chief craned his neck, glanced at it, and froze on the spot.
“Why do you have a portrait of our village’s ancestor?” the village chief asked.
The staff member looked up from the screen: “You recognize the person in the painting?”
A group of archaeology staff gathered around the village chief.
He provided an important clue: “It’s identical to the portrait in the inner room of our ancestral hall.”
Yun Guoqiang’s eyes gleamed gold: “Village chief, take us to see it?”
“Village chief,” Old Yu also pleaded, “his identity is extremely important to our research.”
“Uncle,” a clear, crisp voice drifted over, “take us to see it!”
Yun Guoqiang leaped up from the pit: “Yun Bao, why are you here?”
Yun Yi stood in a patch of orange slanting sunlight. The light couldn’t brighten the dark circles under her eyes.
She forced out a smile.
“Is it still too late to study archaeology now?”
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