Fortunately Su Yao had already gotten off the truck.

In that instant, Wei Changxu’s mind actually flashed with this thought.

Perhaps it was potential bursting forth at a life-or-death moment – Wei Changxu quickly made a judgment. If he jumped down immediately, he might luckily catch the wooden planks below the walkway. But his first action was to throw the boxes from the truck downward. He remembered habitually glancing at the box number prefixes when boarding – they started with “Jing,” meaning the Classics section of the Complete Library of the Four Treasuries. Since they were books, they weren’t afraid of falling, but they feared falling into the river – once soaked with water, they’d be ruined.

The three boxes of books were heavy, but during the fall, whether from multiplied strength in desperate circumstances or heavenly coincidence, Wei Changxu managed to throw all three boxes onto the mudflats before the truck plunged into the river. With no time to see if the truck driver could jump in time, he spotted a place thick with vegetation and threw himself diagonally in that direction.

Wei Changxu’s last image was his bodhi seed prayer bracelet caught and broken by tree branches, the scattered beads floating everywhere, creating a calming atmosphere under the dark blue sky. His spirit relaxed, and then he knew nothing more.

“…Why won’t you let me save him? This child is still alive!”

“If you do that, you’ll change history! If you hadn’t come to this time through the compass, this person might have died like this. If you save him and create a butterfly effect, causing subsequent events to change and history to deviate, will you take responsibility?”

“I’m a doctor! My responsibility is to save lives and heal the wounded! How could I just stand by and watch?”

“You must consider the big picture. If it’s like this every time, I think we shouldn’t rashly use the Luoshu Nine Stars Compass anymore.”

“…Are you threatening me?”

“This isn’t a threat, it’s speaking truthfully.”

“You!”

Who were these two people? Why were they arguing? Luoshu Nine Stars Compass? Why did this name sound somewhat familiar?

Wei Changxu’s consciousness cleared for just this moment before he again fell into darkness with dizziness. Only after what felt like a lifetime did he again feel pain throughout his body.

Still hurting meant he was still alive.

Wei Changxu gritted his teeth and persisted in feeling his body. His leg should be broken, but fortunately the military coat Su Yao had wrapped around him at the end protected his chest and upper body from greater trauma. Heaven’s protection indeed.

He wondered if those three boxes of books were damaged.

In his daze, Wei Changxu vaguely felt himself being moved around, fed pills and given injections. When he could open his eyes, he immediately saw Su Yao’s tear-reddened face.

The owner knew Wei Changxu couldn’t speak yet, but understood from his gaze what he most wanted to know. He patted his head reassuringly: “Those three boxes of books – not one was lost or soaked. It’s thanks to you. Your leg is fine too, but you need good rest. Someone saved you – do you remember who? We couldn’t find them, but we should thank them properly.”

Some arguing fragments flashed through his mind. Wei Changxu shook his head in confusion – he hadn’t understood those words at all.

The owner frowned. The cliff was extremely dangerous – they’d taken a long detour, reaching the bottom mudflats only after a day. The driver had died in the fall, but Wei Changxu was already lying properly on the mudflats, his broken leg bound and set extremely well, bandaged so carefully that he hadn’t lost too much blood. The scattered books on the mudflats had been stacked neatly one by one, even arranged in their original order. Only someone working in a museum could accomplish this. Even the three bodhi seeds Su Yao had stuffed in the book boxes and the fallen Sun Bodhi bracelet were all found without exception.

Su Yao, also keeping watch nearby, suddenly straightened up and turned to fiddle with a small radio beside the bed.

“Our righteous cause has finally triumphed over tyranny… The Japanese Emperor has announced unconditional surrender…”

Through crackling radio waves came thrilling news. Immediately the room filled with cheers and tears of joy. Wei Changxu squeezed his eyes shut hard, still not quite believing this was real.

Having spent too long in darkness, the sudden arrival of light brought instinctive trembling and disbelief.

“Brother Xu! We can go back!” Su Yao joyfully threw himself at Wei Changxu. He was now nineteen, an adult. Wei Changxu couldn’t withstand his pounce, falling from the small stool to the ground. The pain awakened him.

This wasn’t a dream! This was real!

“Yes, we can go back.” Wei Changxu suppressed his wild joy, instead turning to look at the wooden boxes piled in the temple, saying rationally: “We won’t leave quickly – at least another two years, until domestic conditions stabilize.” At twenty-two, he was completely an adult and could quickly analyze the situation.

Su Yao carefully helped him up from the ground. Due to the plank road accident, Wei Changxu’s body had lasting damage. Unable to recover properly in the harsh mountains, he grew increasingly thin. Over these years, Su Yao treated him like fragile treasure, especially after the owner left and they depended on each other.

“The owner… probably won’t return with us, will he?” Thinking of the owner, Su Yao lowered his head and pressed his lips together.

Wei Changxu squeezed his shoulder without speaking.

Seven years ago, after they settled at Mount Emei, the owner left. He only returned quietly to see them once three years ago. Recalling now, Wei Changxu realized the owner’s appearance was exactly the same as over ten years ago. If he were with them now, he’d seem younger than them.

“Don’t think about it. Let’s celebrate properly!” Wei Changxu stood and opened the window, letting long-absent sunlight shine on his face, breathing out deeply.

Soon, very soon his wish would be fulfilled!

In fact, the return journey wasn’t as smooth as imagined.

Though the Japanese Emperor signed the treaty declaring unconditional surrender, domestic Japanese warlords weren’t willing to retreat. Combined with drastic domestic changes and renewed disputes between the Kuomintang and Communist Party, the situation again became confusing.

Cultural artifact organization proceeded methodically. Without air raid concerns, artifacts returning to Nanjing concentrated in Chongqing, departing only two years later. The journey had constant accidents, but fortunately their group had no casualties. Following the Yangtze River downstream, they reached Nanjing directly. The Peiping Palace Museum, established on Double Ten Day in the fourteenth year of the Republic, finally reunited all relocated artifacts in one place after twenty-two years and two months.

Domestic war still hadn’t ended, but Wei Changxu wasn’t too worried. After all, these were internal disputes that would never threaten ancestral heritage. He daily buried himself in organizing those priceless artifacts, often marveling during leisure at these fifteen years of wandering. Every artifact route exceeded twelve thousand kilometers. That these million artifacts survived the long march without a single loss or damage was truly precious – a miracle.

Due to day and night toil, his health declined, but he worked without rest daily. When Su Yao urged more rest, he paid no attention.

By late 1948, artifacts began transferring to Taiwan in batches. Wei Changxu didn’t obstruct and couldn’t obstruct – he was just a small administrator. What could separation accomplish? He knew these artifacts would receive good care, even across the Taiwan Strait.

Some urged him to leave the mainland for Taiwan, but he didn’t agree, remaining at Nanjing’s Chaotian Palace, organizing the remaining artifacts. Su Yao quietly accompanied him throughout.

Until the following autumn when maple leaves reddened again, he became alone.

The owner appeared before him again, still so young.

Wei Changxu’s lips trembled as he placed the white jade longevity lock in his hands.

“How did he go?” The owner’s words were calm, as if he’d long known Su Yao would have an accident.

“On the ladder… fell down…” Wei Changxu closed his eyes, seemingly still seeing that night’s scene. “The warehouse was dark… to prevent fires… so no oil lamps were lit… he… stepped into empty space…”

“Hmm, again before twenty-four. He probably didn’t experience much pain before going. That’s good.” The owner said lightly, his tone carrying indescribable melancholy. He looked down at the longevity lock in his hands, then stared at Wei Changxu for a long while, sighing: “Thank you for caring for him, though it was incidental. Now that war has ended, your wish… should be fulfilled, right?”

Wei Changxu was confused and couldn’t understand what the owner’s words meant. He surveyed the neatly organized warehouse around him, seeming to understand something, and relaxed with closed eyes.

Before the owner remained only a pile of clothes. He bent to pick up a walnut-sized bodhi seed from the garments.

It was a Vajra Bodhi seed, the most precious variety of bodhi seeds.

Vajra means incomparably hard and indestructible, with power to destroy all evil. Vajra Bodhi seeds also have segment grades – commonly five or six segments, resembling walnuts. The more segments, the more precious. The one in the owner’s hand was a legendary twenty-two-segment Vajra Bodhi seed. Its reddish-brown surface bore fire damage marks and was now covered in cracks.

“Twenty-six years ago, when the Great Buddha Hall behind Zhongzheng Hall caught fire, you exhausted your final vow power to reincarnate, taking human form…”

“Your wish to protect antiquities here is fulfilled. I’ll surely choose a place with flourishing incense to let you receive more offerings and restore your vow power…”

Since then, no one ever saw that administrator named Wei Changxu. Those who knew him thought he’d left in grief over his brother’s accident.

Everything was strange, but the owner didn’t think deeply. Seeing Wei Changxu barely keeping his eyes open, he told him to rest well.

The road was still long.

Yes, the road was indeed long. Only in autumn of that year did they reach the towering, imposing Jianmen Pass. Then they traveled from Chengdu to Mount Emei, staying seven years.

Every antique in Dumb House has its own story, carrying many years with no one to listen. Because they cannot speak…