Chapter Ninety-Eight: Striking It Rich

The well wall was damp and slippery, covered in moss, making it easy to lose one's footing with the slightest misstep. Qin Feng carefully controlled his movements, each step taken with utmost caution.

“Feng, be careful!” Zhang Hu's voice echoed from above, tinged with concern.

Qin Feng did not look back, only responding with a quiet affirmation before continuing his descent.

He had no idea how much time had passed before his feet finally touched solid ground. The beam of his flashlight wavered in the darkness, illuminating his surroundings. He found himself in a man-made passageway; torches lined the walls at regular intervals, but they had long since extinguished, the passage bearing the marks of age.

On either side of the corridor, strange patterns were carved into the walls—mysterious symbols that looked particularly eerie in the dim light.

“Feng, what do you see? Any discoveries down there?” Zhang Hu’s voice broke the silence, drifting down from the mouth of the well.

“Come down and see for yourself,” Qin Feng replied, then pressed onward along the corridor.

The passage was narrow, barely wide enough for a single person, twisting and turning with no clear destination. Qin Feng advanced, flashlight in hand, scrutinizing his surroundings in hopes of finding some valuable clues.

Suddenly, he halted, his gaze settling on a stone door at the end of the corridor. The door was tightly shut, adorned with the same peculiar patterns as those carved into the walls.

“It seems this is the place we’ve been searching for,” Qin Feng murmured, taking a deep breath. He approached the stone door, running his hand gently across its surface, seeking a mechanism to unlock it.

“Feng, look here!” Yang Tianchen’s voice trembled with excitement and disbelief. He pointed to the base of the stone door, nearly flush with the ground.

“There seems to be a groove here!”

Qin Feng shone his flashlight, and sure enough, there was an irregularly shaped groove hidden in the shadows beneath the door, easily overlooked unless one examined closely.

By the flashlight’s beam, Qin Feng realized that the groove’s shape matched perfectly with the jade ring he had acquired earlier.

“Could it be…” Qin Feng’s heart raced. Was the jade ring the key to this stone door?

He took a deep breath, pulled the ring from his pocket, and pressed it slowly into the groove. The jade ring fit seamlessly, as though destined to merge with the stone.

The moment the ring nestled fully into the groove, a deep rumbling filled the sealed corridor. The stone door shuddered, dust cascading down, illuminated starkly in the flashlight’s beam.

Zhang Hu and Yang Tianchen held their breath, watching the door slowly open, as if a giant beast, dormant for a thousand years, was awakening.

As the door opened, a wave of decayed, chilling air surged forth, tinged with a strange fragrance that sickened the senses.

With the stone door fully open, a chamber of about ten square meters was revealed. By the flashlight’s light, they could see clearly that the chamber’s walls were embedded with fist-sized glowing pearls, casting a ghostly radiance throughout.

“My goodness…” Zhang Hu couldn’t contain his astonishment, his eyes round, mouth agape wide enough to fit an egg.

In the center of the chamber stood a stone table, piled high with gold and jewels. Bathed in the soft glow of the pearls, the treasures shone brilliantly.

Golden goblets and dishes, jade ornaments, agate, pearls, gemstones—an array so dazzling it overwhelmed the senses.

“We’ve struck it rich! This time, we’ve really hit the jackpot!” Zhang Hu babbled incoherently, never having seen such wealth in his life.

Yang Tianchen, more composed, strode over to the table and picked up a golden goblet, examining it closely. After a moment, he raised his head, his tone solemn. “If I’m not mistaken, these are all relics from the Qing imperial family.”

“Imperial family?” Zhang Hu inhaled sharply. He knew what that meant—these treasures were worth a fortune!

Qin Feng said nothing. He circled the table, his gaze drifting to the chamber walls, which were lined with calligraphy and paintings. Though many had suffered the ravages of time, their exquisite brushwork and artistry remained evident.

“‘Fishing in the Stream Mountains’ by Tang Yin, a fragment of ‘Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains’ by Huang Gongwang… My god, these are priceless antiques!”

Qin Feng’s eyes swept over the paintings, finally lingering on an unassuming landscape. The style was ancient, the brushstrokes bold and vigorous, though unsigned. Yet Qin Feng sensed a majestic energy emanating from it, as if the mountains and rivers themselves surrounded him, soothing his soul.

He carefully removed the landscape from the wall, his movements gentle, as though handling a lover. Though plain in appearance, the painting exuded an indescribable charm that captivated him utterly.

“Feng, can you hurry up?” Zhang Hu, clutching a golden jar and sweating profusely, grumbled, “No matter how valuable these things are, we need to live long enough to enjoy them!”

Qin Feng smiled, rolled up the painting, and said, “Tianchen, call your people over. We need trustworthy folks—the temptation here would overwhelm most.”

Yang Tianchen was taken aback; he had assumed Qin Feng would bring his own men, given that he had found the place. “Haha, all right, I’ll call them now!”

Within an hour, three inconspicuous trucks pulled up at the foot of the mountain. Several sturdy men, under Yang Tianchen’s direction, expertly loaded the chamber’s antiques onto the vehicles—clearly veterans at such work.

Watching the treasures fill the trucks, Zhang Hu’s eyes glazed over, drooling as he rubbed his hands together. “Feng, we’ve really made it this time! These treasures will keep us comfortable for generations!”

Qin Feng patted him on the shoulder, laughing. “Don’t celebrate too soon. These things aren’t exactly legal—we need a reliable channel to sell them.”

Yang Tianchen added, “Exactly. Don’t flaunt your wealth. We need to keep a low profile or trouble will follow.”

Qin Feng nodded in agreement. He understood well that these antiques’ origins were dubious; once exposed, they would attract endless complications.

Time flew by. Soon enough, the day arrived for Qin Feng’s antique shop to open. The sound of firecrackers echoed down the street, the entrance crowded with guests offering congratulations. Inside, the shop was filled with dazzling antiques, each worth a fortune.