The shop owner hadn’t expected Ramesses II to be so reasonable, but no matter who was reborn, they wouldn’t want their life to repeat unchanged. The human soul should be able to control its appearance—though the pharaoh had died at ninety-nine years old, his current appearance was from when he was in his twenties and had just ascended the throne, at his most youthful and vigorous.
The shop owner slightly sat up, looking at the papyrus scroll on the coffee table, and sighed: “I never expected the Book of the Dead could truly resurrect the dead…”
“Resurrection? No, this is only the first step—liberating my sleeping soul.” The pharaoh shook his finger, then bent down deeply, staring into the shop owner’s eyes, slowly saying: “The waters of the Nile can recede and rise again, vegetation can be harvested and regrow, so we believe humans can also be resurrected. After death, one must find the great god Osiris, cleanse oneself of sins committed in the mortal world, then use the Book of the Dead to return to the human realm. Additionally, one must maintain the immortality of the physical body.”
“Oh? Then you must have committed quite a few sins in life—it’s been over three thousand years since you died.” The shop owner rarely made sarcastic comments, feeling that if the doctor were here, he would definitely say the same.
The pharaoh’s expression stiffened momentarily. Under the sunlight, his form became increasingly clear, showing honey-colored bronze skin that didn’t look like a soul at all. His features were identical to the Ramesses II statues visible everywhere in Egypt—sharp, chiseled features as handsome as described in the poems praising him.
The shop owner had always liked collecting beautiful and artistic objects—the Mute House existed because of his overflowing collecting obsession. Seeing the pharaoh’s exotic handsome features, the shop owner couldn’t help narrowing his eyes, beginning to consider how to lure this arrogant pharaoh back to the Mute House for proper collection. Actually, he wanted more to take away a statue of Ramesses II, but when this guy was alive, each statue he erected for himself was larger than the last, some even dozens of meters tall—there was simply no way to move them into his small shop.
The shop owner was lost in thought while the pharaoh composed his expression and continued with a meaningful smile: “Do you know how we maintain physical immortality? Mummies? Have you seen them? Have you heard how mummies are made?”
The pharaoh didn’t wait for the shop owner’s response but reached out toward the shop owner’s straight nose, stroking while slowly saying: “First, use an iron hook to extract the brain matter through the nasal cavity. After complete removal, inject medicines inside.”
The pharaoh’s hand moved downward, along the shop owner’s jawline, brushing past his neck, then sweeping across his chest, finally settling at his waist. “Then, use a stone knife to cut open the side, remove the internal organs, wash the abdominal cavity with palm wine, sprinkle with spices, fill with medicines, then carefully stitch it back up. Then soak in a strong alkaline solution for exactly seventy days, then rinse clean. Finally, use a kind of waxy cloth coated with adhesive, strip by strip, carefully wrapping everything…”
The pharaoh’s voice was low, carrying the distinctive rolled tongue sounds of ancient Egyptian, echoing in the room. His hands wandered unrestrained over the shop owner’s body, not hiding his desire for the body beneath his hands at all.
“I thought our mummification techniques were the best… but how exactly did you manage this? This body… should have been preserved for five hundred years, right? No… at least over a thousand years…”
The shop owner lay on the chaise lounge, openly allowing the pharaoh’s harassment. Though the pharaoh now looked no different from a real person, he actually couldn’t touch him at all. Why should he argue with air? What he was thinking about was the hexagram he had cast before leaving: Water Thunder Difficulty, six-three line: “Pursuing deer without a guide, only to get lost in the forest. The gentleman should be alert—if not abandoned, proceeding brings misfortune.” That so-called guide should refer to this pharaoh, right? Then who exactly was that deer referring to? And who must be abandoned to prevent the doctor from facing danger?
The handsome pharaoh didn’t notice the shop owner’s absent-mindedness. After asking several questions without getting answers, he became increasingly frenzied, his deep brown pupils flashing with strange light.
“Oh oh! It seems this clothing is strange!” Though the pharaoh had identified the key issue, being in soul form, he couldn’t unbutton the shop owner’s crimson dragon robe. The extremely anxious pharaoh was helpless, almost covering him completely.
“Boss! The food here in Egypt is all very strange! I picked a few dishes where I could understand the ingredients… Hey hey! What’s going on? Who are you?” The doctor entering with the door was startled out of his wits.
This was indeed a horrifying scene. From his angle, the shop owner was pressed down on the chaise lounge, allowing that strange man to touch him all over. If not for the shop owner’s face showing no anger whatsoever, he would have pressed the alarm button by the door the next second.
“Audacious commoner, how dare you shout at me!” The pharaoh raised his head, instead directing all his anger at the doctor who had suddenly intruded.
The shop owner was too lazy to get up for the moment, pointing at the pharaoh and saying to the doctor: “This is the respected and great His Majesty Ramesses II.” Though he added all the proper prefixes and suffixes, his tone was very casual, sounding like he was joking.
The doctor’s hand pushing the food cart trembled, and he quickly turned to close the door. He didn’t think the shop owner was joking with him.
“So… the spell in the Book of the Dead worked?” The doctor rubbed his hands, constantly looking up and down at the freshly manifested pharaoh. This was a living soul! Though he was a researcher who revered science, supernatural phenomena also needed to be studied!
The shop owner remembered something, sat up, and pointed to the missing word on the second layer of the Book of the Dead, asking: “When sunlight shines again on… the ancient dead shall return. What’s the word in the middle?”
“Horis!” The pharaoh crossed his arms over his chest, raised his chin, and arrogantly spoke a word. But neither the doctor nor the shop owner understood—obviously this was an ancient Egyptian proper noun that even the gold-plated earring couldn’t translate.
The pharaoh thought for a moment and explained: “We believe that to resurrect a person and reunite their soul with their body, there must be an object to serve as a medium. Horis normally cannot be exposed to sunlight—it needs to accumulate yin energy to absorb power. But when the sun shines on it after a long time, as long as the soul and body are nearby, they can reunite.”
Listening, the doctor suddenly remembered something and picked up the Egypt travel guide from the coffee table, flipping to a page: “You’re not talking about the Abu Simbel temple you built, are you? Every year sunlight only twice passes through the sixty-two-meter tunnel to shine into the sanctuary. Once on February 21st, Your Majesty’s birthday, and another on October 21st, the day of Your Majesty’s coronation…”
“Yes, I placed my scepter in my own statue in the sanctuary. The first date you mentioned is correct—it’s my birth date. But the second date, though it is my coronation day, most importantly, it’s the day I chose for myself to return to the human world! Hahaha!” The pharaoh spread his arms wide, laughing wildly as if no one else existed.
The doctor listened dumbfounded. Though he had long known ancient Egyptians’ astronomy and calendar systems were incredibly powerful, this Abu Simbel temple was too miraculous—truly ingenious craftsmanship. To achieve such powerful miracles without computer calculations was amazing.
But the shop owner was displeased with the pharaoh’s arrogant attitude, propping his chin and saying indifferently: “What? You want to return to the human world? Using your broken-down mummy? I heard your mummy was once sold as dried fish in the market and even went to Paris for medical consultation due to mold. Oh yes, the Egyptian government even specially issued you a passport with ‘His Majesty the King’ written on it, and your mummy is now the treasure of the Egyptian Museum—you need to buy another ticket to visit it!”
The laughter stopped abruptly like someone had pressed pause. The pharaoh stared at the shop owner in shock, trying to see a trace of mockery on his face.
But unfortunately, the shop owner never joked.
“As for that Abu Simbel temple, though it hasn’t collapsed after over three thousand years, I’m sorry—fifty years ago it was moved to high ground several hundred meters away because the Egyptian government wanted to build the Aswan Dam. Though it maintains its original appearance with every stone block intact, unfortunately, the annual sunlight illumination dates were delayed by one day, becoming February 22nd and October 22nd. Well, I hope you don’t absolutely need October 21st to resurrect.” The shop owner pursed his lips, watching with good humor as the handsome pharaoh’s face stiffened, his whole being radiating anger as if about to burst into flames.
The doctor suddenly felt this pharaoh was quite pitiful. He had thought there was hope to return to the human world, but suddenly fell from heaven to hell. The doctor glanced at the calm shop owner, feeling the pharaoh’s biggest mistake was provoking the shop owner.
The pharaoh was indeed greatly shocked. The mummy was manageable—Egypt was so large, he could definitely find a body compatible with his soul, no matter how many years it took.
But the most tragic thing was that his scepter had been moved!
His scepter wasn’t actually the best Horis, but more and better Horis had already been claimed by previous pharaohs. Like divine artifacts, they couldn’t be mass-produced—once used, there was one less. His scepter could only produce effects in the original location of Abu Simbel temple, because it had to coordinate with the stars in the sky for the scepter to generate enormous energy. Now, unless he could rebuild the temple in the flooded location, he had no hope of resurrection.
But this was simply fantasy.
“If only… I had waited back then and sent people to find better divine artifacts…” The pharaoh dejectedly dropped his straight shoulders, like a wounded lion.
It seemed he should be able to lure this collectible back to the Mute House… The shop owner lightly curved his lips, picked up the Egyptian tea from the coffee table, took a sip, but frowned due to the strange taste.
The doctor couldn’t withstand hunger anymore, brought over a portion of breakfast from the cart for the shop owner, then held another portion and ate by himself.
Egyptian cuisine didn’t suit the shop owner’s taste—he only ate a few bites before putting down his knife and fork. The shop owner looked at the damaged Book of the Dead on the coffee table, raised his head toward the handsome pharaoh and asked: “By the way, I want to know—how exactly is your soul preserved in this Book of the Dead?”
“Actually, it’s not preservation. The real secret of the Book of the Dead is that it can summon departed souls.” The pharaoh was, after all, a dominant figure who had ruled the world, and quickly recovered from the blow, smiling mysteriously at the shop owner. Other people’s Books of the Dead were useless—only the one he found was effective.
The shop owner raised an eyebrow at this.
“Don’t you also have someone you want to resurrect?” The pharaoh studied the shop owner’s expression, sitting down leisurely and crossing his legs on the coffee table. Though he was a soul and couldn’t touch living beings or things they contacted—couldn’t touch the shop owner or the crimson dragon robe on his body—he could touch other things.
The shop owner remained silent.
The pharaoh smiled and kindly added: “Not to mention whether you can find that person’s most precious possession from life, or whether that object has the power to reverse fate, most importantly—if the summoned soul isn’t as powerful as mine, without a matching body in the short term, it will quickly fade away and eventually dissipate into the air.”
The shop owner thought of Fu Su in Emperor Qin Shihuang’s mausoleum, who had instantly vanished like smoke and ash, and his heart suddenly ached fiercely. So… so he actually had a chance to find her back?
The shop owner looked at the doctor beside him, who had finished eating and was enthusiastically flipping through the Egypt travel guide, only now realizing that the hexagram he had cast before leaving wasn’t just about the doctor.
It included him too.
“Pursuing deer without a guide, only to get lost in the forest. The gentleman should be alert—if not abandoned, proceeding brings misfortune.”
Who was the deer?
Who was the gentleman?
Who had to… abandon whom…