Not long after, when Beijing’s weather began turning cold, the owner took them to visit the Forbidden City.

Due to increasingly deteriorating circumstances, few people came to visit the Forbidden City. The originally magnificent palace with red walls, green tiles, and golden splendor looked incredibly cold and desolate under the shroud of gunpowder and war. Only vehicles continuously transporting wooden boxes and cotton passed through Shenwu Gate. Seeing this with his own eyes, Wei Changxu realized the southward relocation of national treasures was a foregone conclusion, and his heart rejoiced.

He didn’t understand political complexities and didn’t care what reasons drove this southward migration. As long as those ingeniously crafted national treasures could be preserved from war, he was satisfied.

But relocating cultural artifacts and antiques south wasn’t as easy as imagined – it was a massive undertaking. Qing emperors since Kangxi had incredibly strong collecting obsessions, and succeeding descendants followed suit, even intensifying this practice. So the Forbidden City’s treasures were truly countless. The southward relocation couldn’t take everything – only the most precious items could be selected. Antiques were roughly categorized into porcelain, jade, bronze, calligraphy and paintings, seals, ruyi scepters, snuff bottles, folding fans, court beads, ivory carvings, lacquerware, glassware, musical instruments, armor, ceremonial implements, and many other types. There were also numerous books and documents – the Complete Library of the Four Treasuries stored in Wenyuan Pavilion, the Four Treasuries Compendium stored in Cuizao Hall, rare local gazetteers, various Buddhist sutras and scriptures, Grand Council archives, memorials and records, daily records, imperial genealogies, maps, and countless other complex books.

As Wei Changxu walked with Su Yao, listening to the owner enumerate these treasures like precious family heirlooms, his head began aching. When he finally reached their destination, he saw Forbidden City staff had already begun categorically packing these cultural artifacts and antiques.

The owner came here because packing required industry expertise. Several antique dealers from Liulichang were invited to carefully advise staff on what materials required what types of boxes, what filling materials besides cotton were needed, how to efficiently utilize every gap, and so forth. In return, these invited antique dealers would accompany the Forbidden City antiques south, much safer and more reliable than traveling alone. At least they wouldn’t need to find their own train or ship tickets.

Wei Changxu and Su Yao were just two children. The owner brought them because he couldn’t safely leave them alone in the shop – as long as they sat obediently to one side without causing trouble, no one minded. But Wei Changxu wasn’t content just sitting foolishly. He brought Su Yao, his little follower, to help pass rope, move cotton husks, deliver scissors, and such. He was sensible enough not to touch those precious antiques, afraid of accidentally breaking something they couldn’t afford to replace even if they sold themselves.

Wei Changxu was sweet-tongued and diligent, Su Yao was shy and well-behaved. The two children quickly won everyone’s affection, and Wei Changxu gained permission days later to examine antiques that weren’t being packed. Of course, even those eliminated antiques couldn’t be casually taken, but just looking was fine.

One day, he found a large box of beads. He grabbed several to ask the owner and learned they were bodhi seeds.

“Bodhi seeds? Are these from the bodhi tree in Yinghua Hall’s courtyard?” Wei Changxu remembered that lush bodhi tree, like a great green umbrella in summer’s height. Having often listened to antique shop owners’ conversations, he actually knew quite a lot – he knew the story of Shakyamuni sitting quietly under the bodhi tree for seven days and nights, achieving enlightenment and becoming Buddha. He also knew that in Buddhist terminology, bodhi meant enlightenment.

“No, bodhi seeds are fruits from a type of Chuangu grass that grows in snowy mountains. There are many varieties of bodhi seeds, most suitable for making prayer beads.” The owner picked up a bodhi seed, examining it carefully. “Look at this prayer bead’s surface with evenly distributed black dots and a concave circle in the center, like stars supporting the moon. The entire bodhi seed forms a pattern of heavenly stars surrounding the moon, hence called Star-Moon Bodhi Seeds. This is one of the four famous types of bodhi beads.”

“Ah? Such precious things – why aren’t they packed and taken along?” Wei Changxu immediately worried. His daily examination of eliminated antiques stemmed from this psychology – always feeling everything should be taken without leaving anything behind.

The owner fingered the bodhi seeds in Wei Changxu’s hands, saying lightly: “I’ve seen that box of bodhi seeds before. They should be palace collections accumulated over many years – loose beads not yet strung. These are Silver Thread Bodhi, Buddha’s Eye Bodhi, Phoenix Eye Bodhi, Heavenly Intent Bodhi… Look, though there are many varieties and they’re quite rare, perhaps blessed by high monks, bodhi seeds are plant fruits. As long as this Chuangu grass doesn’t go extinct, more bodhi seeds will grow. They’re not that precious.”

The owner’s expression was calm, but his tone carried indescribable desolation. He straightened up, gazing at those cultural artifacts being successively packed, and sighed: “But look at that porcelain – the firing secrets are lost. Those jade ornaments – the jade-carving masters have passed away. Those are truly priceless heirlooms. Break one and there’s one less…”

“This…” Wei Changxu bit his lower lip, wanting to say this journey would be problem-free, but knowing this was self-deception. These days, everyone busy in the Forbidden City looked grave. Even knowing the road ahead was uncertain, they had to carefully feel their way forward.

The owner was just momentarily sentimental, quickly recovering. He patted Wei Changxu’s head, knowing this child loved antiques to an obsessive degree, and offered consolation: “Buddhism teaches six realms of reincarnation. People will eventually die, and objects will also perish, so everything should be viewed lightly. Just do your best within your capabilities.”

Wei Changxu heard the weathered experience in these words. Looking up, he found the owner staring fixedly at Su Yao, who was holding an ancient book nearby.

At this moment, the owner’s eyes held some complex meaning Wei Changxu couldn’t decipher. Even years later when recalling this scene, he never understood it.

Though coldly told this large box of bodhi seeds couldn’t be taken, Wei Changxu didn’t give up. He persistently found the director and gained permission to begin a mission with Su Yao. They folded paper packets, placing one bodhi seed inside each. Whenever a box of cultural artifacts was sealed, they reverently placed these packets inside, praying these bodhi seeds could protect the antiques from accidents. They also strung bodhi seeds into bracelets, giving each worker a string, praying for their safe journey.

Wei Changxu wore a string of brown Sun Bodhi, Su Yao wore white Snow Chan Bodhi, and the owner wore Golden Bell Bodhi.

Then, on February 6, 1933, the Forbidden City’s first batch of cultural artifacts officially began loading and departure.

Some people began spreading malicious rumors that Director Yi Peiji was stealing from his post, claiming these antiques transported from Beijing were to be sold to foreigners. Three people make a tiger; repeated accusations create truth. Some people actually believed it. The matter spread with increasing detail, and even the Nanjing government issued summons for court proceedings. The accompanying hardships need no elaboration – several people were implicated and imprisoned, unable to appeal their grievances, only released much later.

The owner found them in Shanghai months later. Rather than proposing departure, he stayed to participate in artifact preservation work.

Three years passed in a flash. The Nanjing government finally organized the Chaotian Palace warehouse, and Forbidden City artifacts returned from Shanghai to Nanjing. Wei Changxu was now a youth, his thin frame still growing taller. Su Yao was nearly ten, increasingly shy and introverted. After safely reaching Nanjing with the artifacts, they spent another year on organization work. When everyone thought they could settle down – fourteen-year-old Wei Changxu had even considered leaving to join the army – 1937 proved anything but peaceful.

The twenty-sixth year of the Republic, July 7, 1937: the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, and Peiping fell.

Subsequently, on August 13, the August 13 Incident erupted in Shanghai, and Shanghai fell.

War had reached near Nanjing. Sometimes looking up at the sky, you could see that heavy cloud mass on the horizon seeming ready to press down at any moment, so oppressive it was hard to breathe.

The day after the August 13 Shanghai Incident, the Palace Museum decided to continue relocating artifacts. The first batch left for Changsha early on the 14th. The owner wanted Wei Changxu and Su Yao to leave Nanjing with the first batch of artifacts, but Wei Changxu knew the owner definitely wouldn’t leave first and stubbornly stayed to accompany him.

Artifacts were successively transferred, roughly divided into three routes: the southern route to Hankou then Changsha, finally reaching Anshun; the central route to Yichang then Chongqing, finally reaching Leshan; the northern route via Xuzhou and Zhengzhou to Xi’an. Wei Changxu’s group ultimately chose to take the train north. It’s said the central route’s over nine thousand boxes of artifacts remained stranded in Nanjing until December 8, finally boarding the Huangpu steamship to leave Nanjing.

Five days later, Nanjing fell, and Japanese forces committed the shocking Nanjing Massacre.

How much longer must they remain in darkness before dawn arrived?

Wei Changxu and Su Yao squeezed into the truck cargo space, unconsciously swaying with the vehicle’s motion. It was now spring 1939. After countless hardships, when the artifact-laden train left Nanjing two years earlier, it was bombed by Japanese air forces just reaching Xuzhou. Fortunately, the train had stopped on abandoned tracks, narrowly escaping disaster. Passing through Zhengzhou also involved bombing, but again they escaped unharmed. After Zhengzhou they transferred to Xi’an, then to Baoji, but due to heavy Japanese bombing, were forced to relocate again. The Qinling mountain journey from Baoji to Hanzhong – merely over one hundred kilometers – took nearly three months.

Crossing the Qinling Mountains, they encountered bandits and wolves, experiencing multiple dangers. Wei Changxu felt this was no different from being a soldier.

It’s said the other two artifact routes weren’t smooth sailing either. The water route to Chongqing nearly capsized in the Three Gorges, saved only by experienced boatmen’s last-minute efforts. The Changsha route also faced countless difficulties, nearly suffering Japanese bombing, ultimately deciding to transfer artifacts to the Emei-Leshan area.

Wei Changxu’s group was also heading toward Shu, but by land route.

Li Bai once wrote: “The Shu roads are difficult, more difficult than ascending to heaven.” Wei Changxu had thought crossing Qinling’s mountain paths was treacherous enough, but reaching Shu’s plank roads, he learned what “Shu roads are difficult” truly meant.

So-called Shu roads were actually plank roads – drilling holes in cliff faces, inserting stone or wooden stakes, then laying wooden or stone planks across them. These narrow plank roads had limited load capacity – each vehicle could carry at most three or four boxes, requiring someone to lead the truck ahead. When turning on cliffs, horns had to sound warnings. The convoy moved incredibly slowly. A mere two-li section of plank road took two or three days for one round trip. Wei Changxu asked local guides – at this pace, reaching Emei would take at least six or seven months.

“Brother Xu, are you feeling better?” Thirteen-year-old Su Yao now completely looked like a youth, his military coat worn and tattered from the journey, but his face remained pale. He worriedly touched Wei Changxu’s forehead with concern.

Having endured the entire cold winter in Qinling’s forests, even Wei Changxu’s strong constitution couldn’t withstand it. Su Yao grew anxious, even somewhat self-reproachful. If Wei Changxu hadn’t insisted on giving him all his clothes, how could his body have become so deteriorated? Thinking this, Su Yao removed his military coat and wrapped it around Wei Changxu despite his protests.

“Brother Xu, rest here. I’ll go find the owner and see if he can get medicine.”

Wei Changxu wanted to grab him and prevent wandering around. They were already receiving special care by riding the truck – didn’t he see others walking below? But being ill, and with Su Yao moving quickly, his outstretched hand caught nothing.

That damn kid… Wei Changxu helplessly closed his eyes again, his feverish body stopping his brain from thinking. In his daze, he seemed to hear someone shouting loudly, then harsh car horn blaring. His body began violently swaying uncontrollably. Opening his eyes in shock, he saw the truck he was riding had rushed off the plank road, plunging headfirst toward the deep ravine below!