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Chapitre 1

News: Major breakthrough in Shanghai archaeological history: Zhidanyuan site ends fishing village legend

Was Shanghai just a small fishing village over 600 years ago? This notion may soon be definitively proven wrong. After nine days of intensive excavation by experts from the Shanghai Municipal Cultural Relics Management Committee's Archaeological Department, the Yuan Dynasty stone gate site at the intersection of Zhidan Road and Yanchang Road in Shanghai was finally revealed yesterday. At the site, two massive bluestone pillars stand proudly at the northwest corner of the pit. The upper part of the Yuan Dynasty stone gate is clearly visible, and a structure paved with over 1,000 square meters of large stone slabs, already discovered two meters below, will soon be revealed. Such a large-scale and meticulously crafted ancient stone gate has never been seen before in China. It bears witness to the prosperity of Shanghai's shipping history over 600 years ago. This is the most significant discovery in Shanghai's archaeological history and one of the most important archaeological discoveries in the country.

The discovery of the site was purely accidental. In 2001, when the developer of Zhidan Garden was building an 18-story commercial building, they were unable to drive the piles to a depth of 7 meters. Mr. Ma Pingping, the project manager, spent 12,000 yuan to purchase a diamond drill and continued digging, unearthing artifacts such as iron alloy ingot fasteners and stone slabs. On May 3rd, a citizen concerned about cultural relic protection called the Municipal Cultural Relics Management Committee, which drew the attention of Song Jian, director of the Archaeology Department. He immediately dispatched Dr. Chen Jie, an archaeologist who lived near the site, to investigate. Dr. Chen discovered that in addition to the iron alloy ingot fasteners, there were also 25-centimeter-thick stone slabs joined together with tongue and groove joints, with 15-centimeter-thick backing slabs connected by iron fasteners. Beneath the slabs were also large horizontal beams with rivet grooves, supported by wooden piles. Dr. Chen immediately ruled out the possibility of an ancient tomb and reported this to Song Jian. Based on his extensive archaeological experience, Song Jian suspected this was a large underwater stone hydraulic engineering site and instructed the construction company to halt work and protect the site.

With meticulous preparation by municipal and district government leaders and relevant experts, the excavation of the site officially commenced on August 26th of this year. At the excavation site, reporters witnessed firsthand the discovery of Yuan and Ming dynasty artifacts, including bricks and tiles, blue-and-white porcelain shards, and celadon bowls, within the site's sedimentary layers. Several large wooden piles were found 5 meters underground at the southeast and southwest corners of the site. The Yuan dynasty stone gate is constructed of two massive square-column bluestone blocks, positioned along a north-south straight line, 680 centimeters apart. The tops of these blocks are 150-250 centimeters below the surface, with the exposed blocks reaching a height of 330 centimeters and a width of 90 centimeters. The blocks are regular in shape and have sharp edges. On the facing surfaces of the two blocks, grooves 28 centimeters wide and 17 centimeters deep have been carved into the center, with straight tops and bottoms. It is larger, more exquisitely crafted, and remarkably well-preserved than the Beijing Jinzhongdu Water Gate Site, which was named one of China's top ten archaeological discoveries in 1993 and is now housed in the Song, Liao, and Jin Dynasty Site Museum.

According to historical records, this location is near Luzipu and Hudulei, in the old course of the Wusong River. The Wusong River was Shanghai's most important waterway before the Ming Dynasty, flowing directly into the East China Sea. It played a crucial role in Shanghai's rise and development, but gradually silted up after the Tang Dynasty. During the Yuan Dynasty, Ren Renfa, the Director of Waterways, was commissioned to dredge the Wusong River and construct several stone and wooden sluices to control tidal sediment. The discovered stone sluice may be related to Ren Renfa's management of the Wusong River system.

Mr. Wang Qingzheng, a leader of the Municipal Cultural Relics Management Committee, said: "The Yuan Dynasty stone sluice gate ruins discovered this time are the largest in the country, especially the two stone pillars, which are remarkable and cannot even be compared with the Jinzhongdu Water Gate Site in Beijing, a national cultural relics protection unit. It is even more remarkable that this was discovered in Shanghai, a region that has historically had few major archaeological discoveries. The changes in Shanghai's urban development, waterways, and water conservancy construction are mentioned in books, but they are not clearly explained. Ancient architecture in Shanghai seems very important in Shanghai, but it does not rank among the top in the country. The Yuan Dynasty water sluice gate construction is not only a matter for Shanghai, but also for the whole country. It can be ranked first in the country, which is a glory for Shanghai."

In an interview, Chen Xiejun, the executive deputy director of the Cultural Relics Management Committee, confidently stated that this is the first time such an event has occurred in Shanghai since the founding of the People's Republic of China, making it exceptionally significant. The site is highly likely to be recognized as one of China's top ten archaeological discoveries.

Yesterday, leaders of the Shanghai Municipal Cultural Relics Management Committee officially announced that due to the immense scale and remarkably well-preserved state of the Zhidan Garden site, which holds significant importance in archaeological history, the committee has decided to build a site museum on the original site. It is understood that this will be the only site museum in the city. If all goes smoothly, construction is expected to begin within this year.

Shanghai Morning Post, September 6, 2002

Seeing this report again still makes me smile, especially as I begin writing this journal entry.

For the residents of Zhidanyuan Community, this wasn't exactly "new" news, as the construction site had been there for several years, and rumors of an ancient ruin had circulated a year before this report was published. To my shame, back then I was a novice reporter, a so-called "rookie," and I'd already run into trouble with this. When I first heard about it, I rushed to the scene to report it; I dare say I was the first reporter to cover it. However, the authorities were surprisingly cautious, immediately ordering the media to cover it up. I excitedly went back to the construction site to continue the story, but of course, I was turned away, and nothing came of it. It was like being doused with a bucket of cold water.

Unexpectedly, a year later, the relevant authorities reorganized the media to report on the matter. I had long since lost interest in it, so I only went to the site to take a quick look at the construction site, interviewed a few relevant personnel, and casually drafted an official article, which is the one mentioned above.

Of course, as I said, this news is also quite significant in its practical sense. For a relatively young immigrant city like Shanghai, which is the most modern and advanced financial, commercial, and industrial center in the country, what it lacks most is a long history and its historical documentation. Therefore, it always has an extraordinary enthusiasm for archaeology. Such historical sites are extremely rare and hard to find, and can be used to refute the view that Shanghai was a small fishing village before modern times. How could a small fishing village have built such a large-scale water gate structure?

The above is merely a summary of the reports about the Zhidan Garden ruins. Seemingly nothing suspicious? If it were truly as unremarkable as it appears, then there must be something wrong with my brain—which is, of course, impossible. Before recounting the series of incredible and bizarre events that followed this report, I must first solemnly declare that everything I have said is absolutely true, without a single lie. If you don't believe that humanity is actually completely ignorant of this world, you don't need to read any further.

The editorial office of the *Morning Star* newspaper maintained its usual relaxed atmosphere. Although it was working hours, there weren't many people. I didn't dislike this stress-free work environment. Even though it was already September, the weather in Shanghai was getting hotter and hotter. I wondered if it was due to global warming; in any case, the streets were like the height of summer, while my colleagues were still wearing short sleeves in the office. I was just thinking that today would be another day of relaxing in the air-conditioned office.

That's what a journalist's life is like. People often think that a journalist's life is full of excitement and novelty, but in reality, it's just about staying in the same circle you're working in, interacting with a fixed group of people, and the types of news are nothing more than a few. For sports journalists, it's just reporting on games, and for entertainment journalists, it's just looking for scandals every day. I can't reveal any more here, as that falls under the category of industry secrets and is not for outsiders to know.

Just then, my phone rang.

I wasn't surprised when I recognized the landlord's voice. I live alone in an apartment, and I consider myself to have a carefree life, largely due to my freedom. Today was the rent due date, and I remembered it clearly; I had the money ready. The landlord was being completely unnecessary.

However, the landlord said something else entirely. It turned out that the apartment building I was living in was facing some building problems and needed to be renovated immediately. I could no longer stay there and had to move out tomorrow. This was a very troublesome matter. Although the landlady apologized repeatedly, knowing that it was too hasty and that she had no other choice, it still couldn't change the fact that I had to move my things out today and might even be homeless tonight.

I said I was fine, but I was really worried. I didn't know if any of my friends would let me stay the night, but finding a place to stay isn't something that can be done in a day or two. Was I going to have to stay in a hotel? If so, I'd have to live on instant noodles for every meal...

Fortunately, just when I was in a dilemma, my colleague Shui Sheng came to me and asked me to ask the boss for two weeks of leave for him, saying that he was going back to his hometown to visit relatives and would leave that afternoon.

I couldn't help but feel secretly pleased. Shui Sheng was a complete newcomer, having only been at the newspaper for two or three years. He was usually quiet and reserved, not good at socializing, but we got along well. I remember when he first joined the newspaper, I often helped him with some problems. At first, I helped him revise his manuscripts, and later I even helped him finish a series of reports he was working on when he was sick. So he would come to me for help whenever he needed it. But these were secondary matters; the important thing was that he lived alone in a rented apartment.

So I readily agreed to help him get leave, thinking that the autumn harvest season was approaching.

After explaining the whole story to Shui Sheng, I shamelessly asked him for the rent. To my surprise, he hesitated and stammered for a long time.

Having no other choice, I had to give him a stern lecture, appealing to his emotions and reasoning with him, even bringing up old grievances, until he finally handed over the house key with a reluctant expression.

In the end, Shui Sheng still understands the bigger picture. I need to clarify that it's not that I always remember favors I've done for others; it's just that reporters as physically weak as Shui Sheng are extremely rare. Even covering regular social news like us, mostly within the city, often leaves him exhausted. If he were a sports or entertainment reporter, he'd probably be long gone by now. I really don't know how he passed the physical fitness standards as a child.

That said, if Shui Sheng hadn't given me the address, I wouldn't have known he lived in Zhidanyuan. I was quite surprised. The reports about Zhidanyuan were so sensational the other day, yet nobody knew he lived there. It's clear he wasn't very familiar with his colleagues; they often squeezed together at different places to play cards all night, and Shui Sheng had obviously never participated in such activities.

Anyway, things were resolved smoothly, and I didn't have any work to do, so I simply called a car to go back and move my luggage. Shui Sheng still seemed reluctant, saying she had to catch a train, and after giving a few instructions, she left.

I quickly packed my luggage, which was basically just a haphazard shoveling. I didn't have much luggage; after packing, I had two large suitcases—not too many, not too few, enough for one person to carry, but it would be quite a hassle. I hailed a taxi and sped straight to Zhidan Garden, hoping the driver could help with the loads. Shui Sheng said he lived in the row of houses closest to the archaeological site, which was incredibly noisy and the environment wasn't great, but it was on the ground floor, so he wouldn't have to carry large suitcases up the stairs. As I pondered this, I started chatting casually with the driver.

A while later, as the car was about to enter the entrance of Zhidanyuan residential area, the driver, on a whim, accelerated, changed lanes, and overtook another vehicle, completely unaware that a traffic policeman was standing there. The car was stopped by the policeman, who shouted "Illegal lane change!" and pulled out his notebook. Unexpectedly, the driver, who had probably been driving for twenty or thirty years, treated the policeman like a parent, refusing to surrender and fearlessly jumping out of the car to argue loudly. The two immediately began to quarrel.

Seeing this situation, I knew it wouldn't be resolved anytime soon, so I got out of the car and prepared to carry my luggage. Reluctantly, I carried the two large suitcases off the car, called to the guard standing at the gate, and asked him to watch one of the suitcases while I picked up the other and prepared to walk into the community.

Just then, a large truck loaded with mud and sand roared past, making a huge noise that made me glance back. I caught a glimpse of a black shadow emerging from the grass beside the gate, darting out as if startled. In that instant—and I clearly saw it was a black cat—it was brutally run over by the massive wheels. A sharp, piercing screech of brakes instantly drowned out the noise and construction sounds, plunging the surroundings into a sudden silence. The black cat was almost completely flattened by the enormous vehicle, its body grotesquely deformed, only its head protruding from the wheel. A large pool of blood gushed out, the gruesome sight starkly unfolding before my eyes. In fact, I witnessed the entire process of the poor cat being run over and killed. The truck driver peeked out, restarted the engine, and the heavy wheels rolled over the black cat one after another. The truck continued to roar away, leaving only a flat, filthy cat carcass lying in the middle of the road.

I carried the first suitcase inside and then back, drenched in sweat. Looking around, I saw the taxi driver's verbal altercation with the traffic police was over; the outcome was uncertain, but the car had driven away, leaving my other suitcase still there. I cursed myself for misjudging the situation and wasting my precious energy. The cat's seemingly stiff corpse lay across the middle of the road, its body likely run over by other speeding cars, judging from the dust it was covered in. There were quite a few people on both sides of the road, and at the intersection, a newsstand owner was peering out, but upon seeing the cat's body, their expressions were indifferent and dismissive. No wonder some say that people in modern society are becoming increasingly heartless. A life was lost just like that, and no one even frowned—probably except me.

Despite my initial surprise, I picked up the second suitcase, greeted the guard, and started walking back. I'd only gone a few steps when a dark figure darted past my feet into the adjacent garden, followed by a rustling sound of grass, and vanished in an instant.

I looked around, and it seemed like nothing was wrong, but something still felt off. I was a little surprised, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Just as I was about to continue walking forward, I suddenly realized that something must be different. When I turned around sharply to look again, everything seemed normal, but in the middle of the clean road, there was only a pool of bright red blood. The cat, the black cat's corpse, was gone.

A chill ran down my spine from the shadowy foot that brushed past me. I looked around again; the pedestrians seemed oblivious, and the bookseller was still looking around. My bewildered expression drew strange glances from some people. The security guard had been standing there the whole time, so I quickly called out to him, "Sir, have you seen where that dead cat went? Has someone taken care of it?"

"Huh?" The guard clearly didn't understand what I meant. "Dead cat?"

At that moment, I had a strange feeling, as if everyone had conspired to play a joke on me. This terrifying thought only flashed through my mind for a moment, but it sent chills down my spine.

Fortunately, I knew I hadn't encountered anything supernatural, because there was clear evidence—the bloodstain was still there. I believe I truly saw a cat run over. The question is, where did the body go?

"That's where a cat was just run over and killed, right where there was a pool of blood..." I figured the guard was probably just giving me the runaround, so I just pointed it out to him.

"I don't know," the guard shrugged. "Probably not quite dead. A frog can still jump even without a head." He then casually looked around again.

"Oh." I knew that asking any further would only make me seem crazy, so I gave a casual reply. The image of the black cat being run over by a tire, its body instantly flattened and bleeding, was vividly clear in my mind—a truly gruesome sight. I also knew that it was unlikely anyone could have cleaned up the cat's body in such a short time without the guards noticing. But regardless, it was impossible for an animal to survive being run over like that; even nine lives wouldn't be enough.

It was probably run over by another car, got caught under it, and was dragged away. That's the only guess I can make. Then I glanced at the bloodstains again, but there were no signs of dragging. Maybe... Anyway, if my guess is wrong, then something is beyond the scope of my rational thinking.

Putting aside the doubts about how resilient animals really are, I tried to focus on moving. Since I'd be staying there for at least two weeks, I figured I should get it clean. I carried all the boxes into the house and started setting up my belongings. By the time everything was done, it was almost dark. I could finally breathe a sigh of relief and collapse onto the sofa.

Putting aside the doubts about how resilient animals really are, I tried to focus on moving. Since I'd be staying there for at least two weeks, I figured I should get it clean. I carried all the boxes into the house and started setting up my belongings. By the time everything was done, it was almost dark. I could finally breathe a sigh of relief and collapse onto the sofa.

However, during the tidying up, I made an interesting discovery: the homeowner's private collection. Hidden among the sofa armrests and cushions were several pornographic magazines, including "Penthouse" and some Japanese AV magazines. I then easily found numerous adult films in the drawers of the TV cabinet—Hong Kong, Taiwan, Japan, Korea, Europe, and America—too many to count. Furthermore, there was plenty of "evidence" in Shui Sheng's bedroom; under the sheets, inside the bedside table, everywhere was suggestive. It seems that when I suddenly asked to borrow his room, he didn't have time to hide everything properly.

The thought that Shui Sheng, with his fair complexion, frameless glasses, and undeniably refined appearance, usually so shy, would have such a strong penchant for this kind of thing was truly unexpected. He was often listless at the newspaper office, and his several illnesses were attributed to overwork or being unable to handle the workload. Could it be from masturbation? If so, he deserves to be called a "gun god," hehe. That must be the reason he won't lend me the house. I couldn't help but chuckle.

Regardless, it's normal for a single adult male to be like this. I put these spiritual nourishments back in their places and then realized that it was already dark.

Through the window, I could clearly see the location of the archaeological excavation site. Since they stopped working as soon as it got dark, it was now pitch black and completely silent. I drew the curtains, praying that they wouldn't start work too early the next day and disturb my sweet dreams. That entire night, I sat at my desk and began writing this journal entry on my laptop. I had poured a lot of effort into it, writing on and off for over four months; if it hadn't been interrupted by certain events, it would have been finished long ago. This journal entry recounts a terrifying experience I had over a year ago.

The best way to overcome fear of the past is to confront it again, calmly reorganize it myself, and recreate it in writing. Many psychotherapies for memory impairment or schizophrenia caused by terrible past experiences actually involve the patient, under the guidance of a therapist, describing the entire event bit by bit—a process of recalling and immersing oneself in it again. The therapist, however, will constantly encourage and appropriately manage the patient's emotions. I believe that writing this experience in a journal was the only way for me to completely break free from the intense fear I felt at the time. (See *The Murderer* for details)

Before I knew it, it was almost midnight. Staring at the screen, my head started to throb and my fingers felt a little numb, so I stopped, drew back the curtains, and looked out. Only a few streetlights were on; I couldn't really see anything. I stretched, made myself a cup of coffee, and prepared to surf the internet for a while.