It was clear that a perfectly good antique box made of red rosewood had just been dismantled by some prodigal kid.

Even if it wasn't a centuries-old antique, even if it was a modern imitation, it would still be worth something.

If you haven't seen it with your own eyes, not even the experts dare to give a definite answer.

Wen Yan just listened to it for a bit, and was sure this was definitely an old item.

That old man might not have known about the gold grains, but he definitely knew this thing was quite valuable.

For him to finally give it away, it was probably because he really couldn't hold on anymore, so he took one last gamble and picked someone who seemed the most reliable at the moment.

He wanted to ask more, but somehow he felt that it was probably too late to ask now.

As he was mulling it over, Zhang Laoxi's phone rang — it was the person who had previously helped him find that ninety-year-old man.

After the call, Zhang Laoxi seemed a bit emotional.

"That old man is gone. Before he passed, he said that to pay respects to the gods, you need a chicken, so he had his free-range chicken killed by a neighbor.

After paying his respects, he shared the chicken among the neighbors who looked after him, got the village chief and a few others to witness him writing his will.

He ate a big bowl of rice, drank half a bowl of porridge, went for a nap, and just never woke up again.

Now they're saying that the old man knew his time was up—no illness, no pain, a proper peaceful death.

But since I went there today, they want me to go do a ritual to send him off."

"Since the family doesn't mind us coming over today, let's go together then."

"They don't mind. His grandson is quite understanding.

The old man's son passed away at seventy, but before he died, he really suffered for several months, ended up unrecognizable from the torment.

The grandson feels like the old man had a good mood today, ate happily, enjoyed a good meal, suffered no pain, just went peacefully after a full stomach. That's pretty great."

Wen Yan packed up his things, and set off with Zhang Laoxi again. Passing by a funeral supply store, they stocked up on a bunch of stuff to bring along.

When they arrived, preparations were already underway.

According to the customs in this village, if a long-lived elder dies in the village, healthy and without disease, it's considered a happy death, and every household pitches in to help.

The old folks in the village, some of them were even a bit envious—no sickness, no pain, a full meal, fall asleep and just depart. That's the best ending these elders can hope for.

Wen Yan didn't introduce himself as someone from the funeral home, just quietly helped out. Seeing that nobody planned to send the old man to the funeral home, he didn't bring it up either.

The old man's face was peaceful, just like he was sleeping. In Wen Yan's senses, this was definitely one of the cleanest corpses he had ever seen.

No suffering before death, the soul had already dissipated, not even a trace of death qi lingering—a rare corpse with absolutely no chance of turning into a stiff.

After the one-day wake and farewell, the village chief came over, said something to the family, and they called a car to send the body to the funeral home.

Wen Yan went along for a bit to see him off.

This old man generously gave him what he considered his most precious possession at the very end, trusting he could take on the responsibility. Coming to pay his respects and bow a couple times—that was only right.

After work, Wen Yan took the car home. Near midnight, unable to sleep, he searched for how to clean stonework online and studied up for a while.

Then he checked the old man's notes. In the middle of the night, when all was quiet and the streets were empty, he grabbed his tools and headed to the main crossroads in the city center. Following the steps recorded in the old man's notes, he meticulously cleaned and scrubbed the stone archway.

After cleaning every inch up and down, he stood on the east side of the stone archway. When he looked up again, it seemed the archway had grown much larger, so big he had to crane his neck just to see part of it.

An instant later, it seemed to return to its original form.

Definitely not your average stone archway.

Everyone in the Scorching Sun Department knew about this. Back then, someone from higher up specifically ordered the archway to remain, purposely placed at the city center—definitely intentional.

Zhenjiang Archway...

He recalled what he'd read in the past couple days—decades ago, during the biggest flood, it seemed even then the water didn't reach this place.

Even if you set aside all the water god and dragon god stories, this thing seemed more like a boundary stone born of ancient experience: when water floods, everything above this archway is safe.

Wen Yan stood beneath the archway, hesitated a moment, then stepped forward again, stretched out a finger, and touched the archway, activating Scorching Sun, blessing it with yang energy.

Fierce yang energy surged forth, flowing like water along the intricate carvings on the stone pillar.

Seeing that his own yang energy wasn't nearly enough, Wen Yan also activated the Scorching Sun Jade, channeling more yang energy to reinforce the blessing.

In a flash, the yang energy followed the grooves, spreading over the entire stone archway. The blessing took, but it only went as deep as the surface.

In the very center of the arch, dots of gold light flickered—the familiar feeling that it couldn't be blessed at all surfaced again.

Wen Yan pondered, then withdrew the Scorching Sun power.

He could sense it—the most basic function of this stone archway was as a gate.

Recalling all the data and legends he'd read lately, he started to understand why Cai Heizi told him, when necessary, to come here.

The old man said this archway was the Zhenjiang Archway bestowed by the Dragon Mother.

If the archway is truly imbued with the supernatural, and the West River Dragon God is genuinely a dragon,

Then the legends are actually partially true.

Only after digging through the records these past two days did Wen Yan realize: according to the local myth, the Dragon Mother's surname was Wen—and she was supernatural, could enter water without drowning, and once saved many people.

And it's said that she once raised dragons—five of them…

Wen Yan could more or less see why Cai Heizi kept talking about resolving things peacefully, over and over.

He must've been intimidated.

Honestly, if it were me, I'd be intimidated too.

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