The employer was an elderly man surnamed Yan, around seventy years old with a full head of white hair. He wore a neat, symmetrical traditional Chinese jacket, with a straight back, but his eyes were not good—covered with a fog-like haze, dim and lackluster.

Indeed, the eyes are the spirit of one’s vital energy. With dull eyes, his entire presence seemed diminished.

The girl who had been kicked into the vat by Mu Dai was Yan’s granddaughter, named Yan Hongsha. She didn’t bother to change her clothes, just stood beside the old man, wringing water from her garments. Her hair clung to her face in wet strands, the black and white contrast making her look like a figure from a painting.

The old man Yan spoke to Zheng Mingshan first, being very polite in his speech. Mu Dai pondered that her Senior Brother must have dealt with this person before, though they weren’t very familiar.

Then Yan turned to speak to her, kindly and courteously: “It’s not a difficult matter. Just accompany us on a short trip, a bit of a journey. We’ll cover all food, lodging, and travel expenses. It will be two or three days at minimum, no more than five or six days at most. The price is twenty thousand, with a ten thousand deposit paid upfront. How does that sound?”

Mu Dai looked at the old man, not knowing what expression to use to receive this news.

Just a few days for twenty thousand!

She felt somewhat elated—so this was how much she was worth.

Zheng Mingshan coughed once and glanced at her, his meaning clear: stay calm, don’t act like you’ve never seen the world.

The old man Yan then instructed Yan Hongsha: “Hongsha, tell Mu Dai what our business is.”

Yan Hongsha made a sound of acknowledgment, then helped the old man put on an eye mask—a silver-gray silk cover that emitted a faint fragrance of traditional Chinese medicine.

Zheng Mingshan stood up and said, “I won’t listen. I’ll wait outside.”

This was protocol. Just as one shouldn’t spy on others practicing martial arts, when people need to discuss private matters, it’s best to voluntarily step away rather than wait to be asked to leave, which would be awkward.

The old man Yan, wearing his eye mask, cupped his hands toward Zheng Mingshan’s direction, as if thanking him for his understanding.

Yan Hongsha’s first words were: “We are treasure collectors. Have you heard of that?”

She hadn’t heard of it, but anything with the word “treasure” made one uneasy. Mu Dai looked at her: “It’s not illegal, is it? Not… treasure stealing, right?”

Yan Hongsha rolled her eyes at her, while the old man Yan chuckled softly.

“Earlier, my grandfather had you read the words on the table. If you don’t understand, let me explain. It mentioned gold, silver, and gemstones. These things, in ancient times and even today, are extremely valuable.”

Mu Dai didn’t contradict her, though privately she thought money was more practical.

“But the formation of gold and silver is opposite to that of gems and jade. Gold and silver are formed deep in the earth, receiving the essence of the sun. Gems and jade receive the moon’s radiance and are not covered by soil. We have a saying: ‘Gems are in wells, transparent to the blue sky; pearls are in deep waters; jade is on steep shoals, all covered by clear air or water.'”

Yan Hongsha nodded as she spoke. She had clearly shown off this flowery speech to many people.

Mu Dai vaguely understood the meaning: gems in wells extend directly to the blue sky, pearls are in deep water, and jade is found on dangerous, rushing river shoals, all covered by the bright sky or river water.

A thought occurred to her: gems in wells—there was a waterless well in the courtyard just now, and Yan Hongsha called herself a “treasure collector,” so they specialized in collecting gemstones?

“These gemstones might not be as valuable as top-grade pearls and jade, but the finest specimens are extremely valuable. Common ones include cat’s eye, amber, starry sand, emerald, rose stone, sea gold elixir, and so on. Ancient people studied and categorized China’s gem-producing regions, identifying two major areas.”

As she spoke, she turned to the wall where a large leather map hung. The map was old, clearly many years old, with mountain ranges and rivers drawn in bold strokes, giving a powerful, vast impression.

“One area is the ‘Western Regions,’ which today would be the Xinjiang area. This isn’t surprising. Xinjiang is full of treasures, like Hetian jade, big red dates, Hami melons, raisins, lamb skewers…”

The old man Yan coughed twice. Mu Dai held back her laughter and played along: “Yes, I also love lamb skewers.”

“The other area, according to books, is ‘Yunnan’s Jinchi Guard and Lijiang.’ Jinchi Guard refers to the area from the Lancang River to Baoshan, basically Yunnan. That’s why my grandfather and I live in Kunming—it’s convenient to get anywhere in Yunnan. As for Xinjiang, we couldn’t get used to living there.”

Mu Dai thought for a moment. She didn’t know much about gemstones, but she understood some basics: “Gemstones… should also be extracted from mineral deposits, right? What you’re talking about are mine shafts, right? These mine shafts are also covered with soil, aren’t they?”

The expression on Yan Hongsha’s face seemed to say: I knew you would ask that.

“In the treasure collecting profession, knowledge is passed down through generations within families. There are a few practitioners. With good luck, finding one well can support you for a lifetime. Why bother with mining? What we collect comes from the wells I mentioned—wells transparent to the blue sky!”

Mu Dai’s temperament had always been to respond gently to gentleness but firmly to firmness. When Yan Hongsha became aggressive, she didn’t hold back either: “Those kinds of wells have open mouths. Unless they’re in uninhabited areas, if people are around, whatever’s there would have been picked up by passersby long ago.”

Yan Hongsha laughed “Ha ha ha,” with a pause after each “ha,” taking three laughs to complete: “I knew you wouldn’t understand anything. Pearls are hidden inside oysters, jade is encased in rough stone. Do you think gemstones at the bottom of wells are flashing gold that blinds your eyes? What you pick up are just stones! They need to be given to craftsmen to cut open before you know what treasure is inside.”

Mu Dai fell silent. She didn’t know. She had truly imagined it was like entering the treasure cave of the Forty Thieves, where one would see jewels and jade all around as soon as they descended.

Apparently, at first glance, the well bottom just contained ordinary-looking stones.

Yan Hongsha corrected her mistaken assumptions again: “Ordinary people who recklessly go down would certainly die. Books record that ‘treasure vapor like mist, permeating the well, those who breathe it too long often die.'”

So there was poison gas, too? Mu Dai immediately felt that twenty thousand yuan wasn’t that much after all and promptly declared: “I’m not going down any wells.”

Yan Hongsha snorted: “You think anyone can just go down a well? Going down wells requires training.”

The old man Yan seemed to know what Mu Dai was thinking: “This treasure vapor isn’t poison gas, but since ancient times, good things have always been guarded by ferocious entities. Just like the legend says, pearls are guarded by dragons; wells that produce treasures also have deadly treasure vapors. So when going down a well, someone must always remain above. The treasure collector carries a bag and a bell. Once at the bottom, they quickly gather gemstones into the bag. When they feel the treasure vapor becoming overwhelming and unbearable, they immediately ring the bell, and the person above, upon hearing it, will pull them up at once.”

Mu Dai stared at the bell on Yan Hongsha’s waist.

So that’s what the large bell was for.

She processed what she had heard. So, the grandfather and granddaughter normally went to remote places to find these mineral wells?

No wonder they needed someone to accompany and protect them. Since the Yan family had collected treasures for generations, they surely had unique methods to deal with the treasure vapor. They indeed had a profitable business. No wonder the old man and young woman could live in such a mansion in the city center and specifically hire people to serve them.

If she didn’t have to go down the wells, this job suddenly became attractive. She could earn money while broadening her horizons—why not?

Mu Dai nodded: “Alright, I have no problem with that. Where is the well we’re going to this time? Yunnan? Or… Xinjiang?”

Yan Hongsha didn’t speak for a while. When she did, she was hesitant: “This time, we’re not going to a well…”

Not going to a well? Then why had she spent so long explaining how to collect treasures? Did she just enjoy moving her lips?

Yan Hongsha said, “Come with me to my room. I want to show you something.”

Without waiting for Mu Dai’s agreement, she turned and walked toward the back hall. Mu Dai thought for a moment and decided to follow. Just as she stood up, the door opened, and a woman dressed like an hourly worker carried in a bowl of soup.

“Sir, your soup.”

What kind of soup? It smelled rather strange. A glance showed chrysanthemum flowers floating on the surface.

The woman, seeming to notice Mu Dai’s confusion, smiled and explained: “Chicken liver and chrysanthemum soup. One serving of chicken liver, three qian of chrysanthemum. Would the young lady like a bowl as well?”

Could chicken liver be cooked together with chrysanthemum?

Mu Dai felt she truly had seen too little of the world.

Yan Hongsha showed Mu Dai a video clip.

It was nighttime, but the moonlight was clear, and the camera’s resolution was good, unlike some cameras that produced noisy images.

It seemed to be by water, perhaps the sea. The water was calm, with silk-like wrinkles spreading across the surface. The moon reflected on the water, like endless phosphorescent dots, or like a huge, uneven mirror.

Yan Hongsha pointed to the center of the screen: “Here, look.”

What was that? A dark, black mass.

The person filming seemed to anticipate the viewer’s question. The next second, the camera zoomed in.

It was quite large, about the size of a small round table. But what was it?

As if to answer her confusion, the object suddenly opened a line in its body.

Mu Dai’s eyes widened immediately.

“This, this is…”

“That’s right, an oyster. Have you ever seen an oyster this big?”

Mu Dai held her breath, not speaking, as on the screen, the oyster slowly moved its body.

There was a voiceover in the video, an excited male voice: “I’ve never seen an oyster this big. It’s basking in the moonlight now. Legend has it that on the night of a full moon, old oysters become especially happy and continuously rotate their bodies following the moon’s east-to-west path to receive moonlight…”

He continued: “I checked before. The world’s largest pearl, also called the ‘Pearl of Laozi,’ is the size of a human head, currently valued at over 20 million US dollars. An oyster this big, if it produces a pearl, would be almost unimaginably valuable… I want to get closer and see.”

The video stopped there.

Yan Hongsha explained to her: “The person speaking is my uncle, Yan Jiuxiao.”

“My uncle is our Yan family’s treasure collector, but our family hasn’t been in business for several years because my grandfather’s eyesight has deteriorated.”

When collecting treasures, even knowing that treasures are in wells, one can’t just blindly search. One must train their eyes from childhood, developing the ability to discern treasure vapor. How easy is it to distinguish faint treasure vapor among countless clear and turbid vapors in the vast world?

So the key to treasure collecting isn’t the collecting itself, but the ability to discern.

However, the world has its fairness. What is gained in one aspect is lost in another. The old man Yan’s eyes couldn’t handle strong light, even rarely seeing sunlight. He had lived indoors for years, and as he aged, he became increasingly half-blind, finding it difficult to see anything.

The irony was that while he could barely see anything else, he could still, with great effort, see treasure vapor.

The old man Yan focused on resting his eyes while guiding his granddaughter Yan Hongsha in learning to descend wells. Yan Jiuxiao, however, couldn’t sit still. Although he usually earned a lot, they were extravagant spenders with astonishing consumption. To avoid depleting their resources, Yan Jiuxiao said he wanted to go out and “try his luck.”

In private, he told Yan Hongsha, “As treasure collectors, we don’t let treasures escape our eyes. These treasures aren’t just limited to gemstones. There are pearls in the south, jade in the west. If there’s an opportunity, we might as well get involved.”

Xinjiang was too far away, so Yan Jiuxiao went to Hepu in Guangxi.

About ten days ago, he called Yan Hongsha, telling her that in Hepu, he had heard of a village called Five Pearl. It was a good place because, reportedly, the village had for generations followed ancestral methods of pearl harvesting, collecting only natural pearls, never cultivating them artificially.

Most treasure collectors believed that artificial carving and polishing left traces of tools, inferior to natural formation. It was like artificial beauty—certainly beautiful, but when compared to natural beauty, it lacked the aura of natural perfection.

What made him even happier was hearing that Five Pearl Village had been abandoned.

Yan Hongsha still remembered his excited tone: “I heard it’s been abandoned for several years. Old oysters, undisturbed, can focus on producing pearls. Someone drowned in the sea, and villagers from nearby avoid coming here, which is perfect for peace. Maybe I can find a treasure in these waters.”

A few days later, he sent Yan Hongsha the video clip she had just shown.

Guangxi, Hepu, Five Pearl Village—what a coincidence.

Mu Dai asked her: “Then what happened?”

“Nothing more. After that, my uncle went silent.”

Mu Dai’s back felt cold.

Yan Hongsha didn’t say anything else. It wasn’t completely silent. There was one night when she was half-asleep, dreaming, and she received a call from Yan Jiuxiao.

It was unclear whether it was a dream or a real call; perhaps it was a dream.

In the dream, Yan Jiuxiao was crawling on the seabed, his hands sinking deep into the sea sand. The underwater currents pushed his trembling body. His face was deathly pale, his eyes bloodshot, and suddenly he locked eyes with her.

He called to her with a sobbing voice: “Hongsha, I don’t want to die here…”

Yan Hongsha jolted awake to find that she was answering a phone call. On the other end, the sound of waves was extremely loud.

Trembling, she softly asked: “Uncle?”