The Tomb-Raiding Journey Starting from Time Travel

Chapter 9 （The Uncle-Nephew Duo）

Zhao Yang first sized up the two men standing in front of his stall.

Strictly speaking, they weren't exactly an old man and a young man. The older one looked to be around fifty, with a strong build, a buzz cut, and deeply etched smile lines. However, his eyes were sharp and full of life. The younger man beside him appeared to be in his late twenties, with a slimmer build. He shared some facial features with the elder, suggesting they might be related, perhaps father and son. Both men wore simple gray cotton clothes, each with a water canteen hanging from their waist and a bulging sheepskin backpack slung over their back, giving them the appearance of seasoned travelers.

What startled Zhao Yang even more was the peculiar scent emanating from them, noticeable even from over a meter away thanks to his keen sense of smell.

"It's the smell of rammed earth from a Ming dynasty tomb!"

Zhao Yang was certain of it. The scent of rammed earth from Ming tombs was distinct and unmistakable. It seemed these two were fresh from their latest tomb raid.

"One finger, one bucket," Zhao Yang responded, using a coded phrase.

“One finger, one bucket” meant ten thousand dollars!

Ten thousand silver dollars for half a jade bi? Anyone else might have punched him for asking such a price—it was tantamount to robbery. But Zhao Yang knew the two men were his fellow tomb raiders; the mere fact that they inquired about the price meant they were interested.

What Zhao Yang didn't expect was how easily the older man accepted the offer. He smiled and nodded, "Alright, one bucket. I'll take it!"

Take it? So easily?

Zhao Yang's eyes widened in surprise. If the older man hadn't been nodding so enthusiastically, he would have thought he misheard.

As for Chen Fuwang beside him, he was utterly bewildered. He muttered to himself, wondering if this jade bi was really worth a bucket of water. Where couldn't you get a bucket of water? At the very least, it should be worth ten catties of white flour!

But just as the elder agreed to the deal, he added, "However, the price I'm offering is for the complete piece, not just half."

The complete piece?

Zhao Yang nearly lost his temper. All this excitement for nothing—it was just a tease.

"I only have half of the jade bi," Zhao Yang said, shaking his head. It seemed this deal wasn't going to happen.

But the older man chuckled and said, "I understand, young man. I know where the other half of the jade bi is. If you help me find it, I’ll pay you the full price—every penny. And I’ll even give you a hundred taels of silver as a deposit!"

As he spoke, the older man pulled two large silver ingots from his bulging backpack, each weighing fifty taels, and much bigger than two fists.

Chen Fuwang’s eyes lit up instantly at the sight of the silver.

But Zhao Yang frowned and didn’t take the silver.

He understood the old man’s implication—likely, the other half of the jade bi was still in the Tang dynasty princess's tomb from the night before. They wanted him to accompany them back down.

This was no joke. The corpse in that tomb was vicious beyond belief. Even with all his tricks, Zhao Yang had barely escaped with his life the previous night. There was no way he would go back down. Even for ten times the price, he might go down alive but wouldn’t come back up.

So Zhao Yang shook his head firmly and said, "Sir, there's a big zongzi (corpse) in that pit. Even with a guan da ding (ritual talisman), it's likely a one-way trip. I was lucky to escape with this item. Besides, my ancestors have a strict rule—one can only enter a pit once."

"Mojin Sect..."

The elder was startled and immediately recognized the reference, uttering the name “Mojin” with surprise.

Only members of the Mojin Sect adhered to the rule of never entering the same tomb twice.

Zhao Yang didn’t deny it. Though he wasn’t technically part of the Mojin Sect, he wore a Mojin amulet and practiced the "Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Technique" from their teachings. More importantly, Zhao Yang needed a reason to decline their request to re-enter the tomb. Citing a traditional rule sounded better than admitting he was too scared.

"No wonder you have such skills to descend into such a pit. It's an honor to meet you!"

The elder clasped his hands in respect, complimenting Zhao Yang after confirming his Mojin affiliation. He then added, "But young man, I think you’ve misunderstood. I’m not asking you to go back down into the tomb."

The elder looked up at the midday sun, smiled, and continued, "It’s already noon. How about we head to the tavern for a meal and discuss things in more detail? The meal's on me."

At the mention of food, not only did Chen Fuwang’s stomach growl, but Zhao Yang’s stomach also rumbled embarrassingly.

Zhao Yang thought it over. After wasting half a day with these two, it seemed only fair to let them treat him to a meal. So he nodded, and the three of them headed to the largest tavern in town, the Fengxian Tavern, where they rented a private room on the second floor.

Since the other two were footing the bill and seemed well-off, Chen Fuwang didn’t hold back, ordering a full table of the best food and drink.

The pair didn’t mind at all, focusing on the meal first.

After a hearty feast, Zhao Yang finally opened up and asked the two men in coded language, "May I ask where you’ve recently split the mountain armor? And how many doors did you c***k?"

The elder smiled and responded, "We have no such talents. We’re just chopping wood on the mountain and burning it below. We make a living off minor skills, but we’ve visited many treasured halls, though never found the dragon’s lair."

Zhao Yang chuckled. Their humble tone belied their expertise. To be this fluent in tomb raiding jargon, they were clearly seasoned pros, not to mention the ease with which they recognized the half jade bi from the princess's tomb.

"May I ask your name, young man?" the elder continued in plain language.

"Zhao, given name Yang. This is my brother, Chen Fuwang," Zhao Yang replied, introducing Chen Fuwang as well.

Chen Fuwang didn’t understand the conversation but kept quiet, focusing on his food.

The elder glanced at the clueless Chen Fuwang, then introduced himself out of courtesy, "My name is Shan, the third child in my family, so they call me Lao San. This is my nephew, Bao Sheng."

Zhao Yang turned his attention to the young man, Bao Sheng, realizing they weren’t father and son but an uncle-nephew duo.

In the tomb raiding business, many taboos could easily lead to death. As a result, many raiders relied on superstitious practices to protect themselves. There was a saying in the tomb raiding world: "With nephews and uncles, survival and return are assured."

The words for "nephew" and "uncle" in Chinese sounded like the words for "save" and "live," so some raiders believed that having an uncle-nephew duo on the team would bring good luck. It seemed this pair was quite superstitious!