Earlier this year, the curator had gone to Kunming for rehabilitation due to his poor leg condition. However, being someone who couldn’t stay idle, he soon connected with colleagues in Kunming. Before long, he heard that an ancient tomb had been unearthed in ancient Dali City, and unable to contain himself, he took a train to Dali. Due to his professional status, although he didn’t directly participate in the excavation work of the Dali ancient tomb, he had examined all the unearthed artifacts one by one. This ancient tomb had already been discovered by locals before being reported to the state, and because of its remote location, a large portion of the antiques had already been stolen by the time archaeological personnel sealed off the site. The curator lingered in the area for a long time unwillingly, and indeed managed to buy a ceramic figurine suspected to have been unearthed from this ancient tomb.

“It’s only suspected, because I didn’t see any similar ceramic figurines among those unearthed artifacts. I only used devitrification identification and glaze surface microscopic observation methods to roughly determine this ceramic figurine’s period, which was close to the period of the unearthed ancient tomb. So I submitted this ceramic figurine, but they wouldn’t accept it, believing I had made an error in judgment.” The curator rubbed his hands together, his wrinkled face also showing distress. “So I had no choice but to bring this ceramic figurine back, originally planning to place it in my home collection room as just another collectible, but then…”

“But then what?” Lu Zigang hadn’t seen the curator continue for a long while, and became interested in the ceramic figurine in this brocade box. After washing and drying his hands, he put on thin gloves from the counter. When using antiques from Mute House, he wasn’t particularly careful because those objects were normally used items. But this ceramic figurine might be an unearthed burial object, so it deserved different treatment.

A palm-sized shadow blue figurine lay quietly in the brocade box.

Shadow blue was also a type of celadon, with a glaze color slightly tinged with blue, crystal clear and lustrous, with strong transparency. Shadow blue generally used iron as a coloring agent, mostly applying glaze over carved patterns on unfired bodies, so finished pieces were generally simple and elegant. The shadow blue figurine before them was also rather crude. Although the glaze surface was smooth, there were some areas where the glaze had peeled off, showing that the firing technique wasn’t very skilled, but one could still make out the clothing and patterns on this human figurine. This shadow blue figurine knelt on both knees with head slightly lowered. Unfortunately, the glaze on the facial features had been severely damaged and peeled off, making it impossible to see the original appearance clearly. Upon careful examination, Lu Zigang understood why the curator firmly believed this human figurine also came from that ancient tomb.

Regarding the excavation of the Dali ancient tomb, Lu Zigang, as an industry insider, had also heard about it. It was the mausoleum of a Dali noble, but due to many important burial objects being stolen, plus the chaotic times during the late Song and early Yuan periods when Dali’s throne changed hands frequently, the tomb owner’s identity remained inconclusive. The clothing on this shadow blue figurine was clearly what Dali nobles wore, and the patterns all over the body were complex, yet there was a blank space at the waist area, meaning one shouldn’t have ulterior motives—this was a typical Bai ethnic noble.

Lu Zigang rarely saw such shadow blue figurines and couldn’t put it down for a moment, but he didn’t forget the curator’s unfinished words and pressed: “So what happened?”

“…As a result, I’ve been having nightmares lately.” The curator wiped his face with his hand, feeling that one shouldn’t speak of supernatural things, but ever since he collected that Sword of King Yue and experienced that terrifying night at the museum a few years ago, he had come to believe somewhat. “I repeatedly dream of scenes of someone being executed. Looking at the surrounding scenery and flags, it should be when Dali City was occupied by Mongol soldiers.”

“The last person in power from the Gao family?” Lu Zigang thought briefly and found the answer in his memory. He couldn’t recall that person’s name for the moment, but Dali Kingdom’s ruling structure, which differed from the Central Plains, was still impressive. The Duan family of Dali was more like modern Japanese or British royalty in some sense—without real power, merely a mascot with symbolic meaning. The Gao clan was the true power holder in Dali, and if someone was publicly executed, the answer was obvious.

“Yes, his name was Gao Taixiang.” The curator knew this period of history deeply. “When Dali City fell that year, Dali’s last emperor Duan Xingzhi and Gao Taixiang fled separately. Gao Taixiang was captured, refused to surrender, and was beheaded beneath Wuhua Tower. Soon after, Duan Xingzhi was also captured but sent north to the Mongol court to meet Möngke Khan. Möngke Khan employed gentle policies, bestowed golden tallies, and ordered his return to serve as Dali’s general administrator, continuing to manage the original subordinate tribes. In my view, Duan Xingzhi was probably quite pleased—now free from the Gao family’s constraints, he would be much more comfortable.”

Lu Zigang raised his eyebrows. Those who studied historical artifacts rarely added personal preferences when commenting on historical facts, but the curator’s obvious expression of disdain for Duan Xingzhi was probably influenced by those dreams. Lu Zigang played with the shadow blue figurine in his hands for a while before placing it back in the brocade box, smiling: “Curator, I estimate you’re experiencing ‘thinking by day, dreaming by night.’ This shadow blue figurine doesn’t show any abnormalities.” Having said this, he helplessly spread his hands and continued: “Honestly, even if there were any, with my limited abilities, I couldn’t detect them.”

“No abnormalities?” The curator smacked his lips twice. “I was planning to send this shadow blue figurine for thermoluminescence dating, but I’m reluctant to drill holes in it. Fortunately, there are areas where the glaze has peeled off, so I sent it for compositional analysis the day before yesterday. The evaluation report hasn’t come out yet…”

Lu Zigang deeply felt the curator was being unnecessarily cautious, knowing the other party wasn’t really expecting any suggestions from him, or even if he had suggestions, they wouldn’t be heeded, so he honestly kept quiet.

The curator was still pondering, finally deciding to follow his intuition. Generally, unearthed burial objects with excessive yin energy would be placed in museum exhibitions. Because exposure to lighting and the constant yang energy brought by visitors would gradually dissipate the yin energy on burial objects.

Decided—next week’s ceramic exhibition would include this shadow blue figurine!

Gao Taixiang still remembered the day when he chose his own fate, simultaneously determining others’ fates, and even the fate of all Dali.

The Gao family’s wealth and power, extending through generations with overwhelming influence, had created a complex behemoth. Within the Gao clan, each generation’s power holder wasn’t chosen like Han families that valued eldest sons and legitimate grandsons, but rather based on ability. So in becoming a qualified Gao family power holder in the elders’ eyes, Gao Taixiang had paid unimaginable hardships and costs.

The Dali Duan family’s throne was, in fact, a spokesperson chosen by the Gao family power holder. After the Xiaoyi Emperor Duan Xiangxing, whom Gao Taixiang had assisted, died, his primary task was to select the appropriate person to inherit the throne from among the Duan family descendants.

No Gao family power holder would not enjoy this moment. Perhaps some might think becoming emperor was the most noble honor in the world, but possessing the power to choose who would inherit the throne, controlling the person on the dragon chair within one’s grasp, might expand one’s inner desire for power to the extreme.

At least Gao Taixiang enjoyed it, though he was somewhat tired of it. Although he was very young, being able to stand out from the Gao family filled with hidden dragons and crouching tigers, he had seen many underhanded schemes. Those Duan family descendants who surrounded him from morning to night like flies around pastries, seizing every opportunity, greatly annoyed him.

Until one day, a youth with clear eyes and brows stood before him, completely ignoring the killing aura from his recent battlefield return, saying nothing, just calmly gazing at him like that.

“Why don’t you speak?” Gao Taixiang admitted this Duan Xingzhi had indeed aroused his interest.

“Even if I don’t speak, Chancellor Gao knows my purpose.” A confident smile appeared at the corners of Duan Xingzhi’s lips, the light in those eyes almost blindingly bright under the sunlight. He slowly said: “Moreover, Chancellor Gao will ultimately choose me.”

“Oh? Then why would I choose you?” Gao Taixiang raised his eyebrows upon hearing this and laughed despite himself.

“Because I will die before you.” Duan Xingzhi said simply. His voice was gentle, yet contained an irresistible quality.

Gao Taixiang put away his smile, seriously examining for the first time the youth standing candidly before him. He didn’t say he would exhaust himself working tirelessly for Dali, didn’t try to use nepotism to curry favor, and didn’t use various means to hint indirectly. Because he knew what the other party wanted.

He was promising that he would be easier to control than other brothers, and if difficult to control, could be directly replaced.

“Very good, this is an agreement.”

“This is an agreement.”

“Very good, this is an agreement.”

“This is an agreement.”

Gao Taixiang awakened from his memories, reaching out to stroke the carved railings beneath his hands. Wuhua Tower was the tallest and most magnificent building in Dali City, with every detail so exquisite as to be almost unbelievable. Perhaps only the imperial palaces of the Han people in the Central Plains could compare. But even those powerful Han people couldn’t stop the Mongol cavalry, and magnificent rivers and mountains were ruthlessly trampled under horse hooves. Now it was their turn in Dali…

Heavy footsteps came from the wooden stairs behind him. Gao Taixiang didn’t need to turn around to know who was coming up. This was the highest floor of Wuhua Tower—in the Kingdom of Dali, only two people were qualified to ascend here.

“Chancellor, you should break through with your troops.” Duan Xingzhi’s slightly weary voice sounded behind Gao Taixiang, a pair of pale hands stained with blood pressing on the railing beside the latter.

Gao Taixiang’s gaze involuntarily fell on the bloodstains between those fingers. After confirming the other wasn’t injured, he narrowed his eyes: “What about you?”

Duan Xingzhi’s gaze was vacant, looking at the panicked Dali subjects below Wuhua Tower. After a long while, he sighed: “I will live and die with Dali.”

“Are you willing?” Gao Taixiang smiled coldly. Under his assistance, Duan Xingzhi had been on the throne for three years. This youth wasn’t as harmless as he appeared. He had ambition, though well-hidden, but in Gao Taixiang’s eyes, it was basically impossible to conceal.

Duan Xingzhi’s thin lips pressed into a straight line. How could he be willing? But in this critical moment of survival, he couldn’t fail to see the facts clearly or deceive himself that everything still had hope.

“We’ll break through separately.” Gao Taixiang said lightly. “This way, the Mongol soldiers can only divide their forces to capture us. At least they need one of us two to survive.”

“Why?” Duan Xingzhi turned his head to ask. He wasn’t asking why the Mongol soldiers would spare one of their lives—obviously to appease the Dali subjects. He was asking why Gao Taixiang was going to such trouble.

His answer was Gao Taixiang’s slight smile. “After all, we have an agreement, don’t we?”

Duan Xingzhi helplessly curved his lips. Indeed, they had an agreement. Two people breaking through separately would definitely have better survival chances than Gao Taixiang alone. Moreover, even if Gao Taixiang were captured, as long as he surrendered, he could completely regain everything he originally possessed.

He was still overthinking.