Rey de los saqueadores de tumbas

Capítulo 3

"Yes, I study film at Shanghai University. It's just that sometimes people ask me to shoot some small commercials, and I just earn some pocket money."

"But your commercials are on TV all the time. Do people ask you for autographs?" That's true. Her shampoo commercials seem to be broadcast repeatedly during prime time slots, and every now and then, her hair-flipping pose will appear in your eyes.

If I had to point out any flaws in her, it would be that her eyes always seemed a little dazed, perhaps because she had just woken up and her gaze was somewhat languid. Also, she always answered me in a very casual tone. If it were a boisterous man, this kind of attitude would be quite irritating, but this beautiful woman didn't give me that feeling; instead, it added to her mystique.

"No, I'm fine."

As I was mopping the floor, I suddenly noticed that most of the floor from the bathroom to the living room was waterproof. I jokingly asked him, "Do you often encounter this kind of thing? You don't seem nervous at all, like it doesn't matter to you."

To my surprise, she looked at me and nodded.

My little deduction succeeded.

“I especially love the feeling of soaking in the water.” She paused, made a gesture indicating that the water was above her neck, and smiled. “It’s much more comfortable than sleeping in bed, so I easily lose myself in it. Once I’m in, I can’t stop, it’s like my soul is leaving my body. So the water often overflows, but luckily the people downstairs are quite polite. Shui Sheng has never said anything.”

I remembered the numerous watermarks that had been on the ceiling before, and finally understood the reason. Besides, Shui Sheng isn't good at socializing, so she probably wouldn't know how to handle something like this. Especially since the other person is a beautiful woman. But I've never heard of such a strange habit before. Maybe some people are addicted to saunas and Turkish baths, and she's probably the same type.

In any case, she initially gave me the impression that she had a somewhat eccentric personality.

I continued mopping the floor diligently for a few more minutes. Su Ying swept the water onto the balcony. I made small talk for a bit, then immediately thought of a crucial question: our encounter last night. Just thinking about the atmosphere last night sent a chill down my spine.

Do you also have the habit of going for a walk in the middle of the night?

"It really was you last night." "No, I couldn't sleep last night, so I went for a walk." She looked at me and fiddled with her hair as she answered.

I couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you scared in the middle of the night?"

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid... there might be ghosts!" I joked.

"What's there to be afraid of about that kind of thing!" Unexpectedly, Su Ying became a little impatient, and her voice sounded somewhat agitated.

"No, I was just joking. Well, hehe..." I didn't expect Su Ying to get so easily agitated, so I quickly explained.

"Then what were you doing there in the middle of the night?" she immediately retorted.

"Huh?" I didn't expect her to ask that, and then realized I had no reasonable explanation at all. Should I earnestly tell her that there was a black cat that got run over by a truck, vomited a lot of blood, and then wandered around my window in the middle of the night, meowing loudly, so I went out to chase it, and then I ran into her instead? Basically, if I gave that answer, Su Ying would either think I was crazy, having a fit of hysteria, or that I was making up an excuse with bad intentions and ulterior motives, neither of which I wanted to hear.

For a moment I desperately tried to come up with an excuse in my mind. Neither of us spoke, and the scene became somewhat awkward.

"It's okay, actually I don't want to know either." Seeing my embarrassment, Su Ying spoke first, "We need to clean up quickly, I have class this afternoon."

"Oh, right." I quickly replied, "I also have things to do this afternoon and need to rush back to the newspaper office. Let's hurry."

So Su Ying and I continued our work while chatting idly, focusing on cleaning. Before long, we finished dealing with the water in the room. After saying goodbye, I went downstairs to wash up and prepare for the afternoon's work.

Back in my room, I turned on my computer and checked my workload for the month. I realized that I hadn't published enough articles this month, and if this continued, I might not be able to meet my targets.

This is no joke. As a seasoned professional journalist... But then again, the recent news has been really lackluster. After all, journalists have to find their own ways to dig up news. Although I've been online every day for the past two days, I haven't been able to collect any interesting or novel information.

I don't want to follow the crowd and write about trivial matters or sensationalize boring news, so I haven't written much since publishing that official article about Zhidan Garden.

Zhidan Garden! That's right! I almost forgot I live right next to this archaeological site. So, I'll have to dig up some news from here, no matter what, to make the most of this luck.

I hastily finished my lunch with instant noodles and headed straight to the construction site as soon as I left the house.

As I approached the construction site, I spotted a man in the distance, wearing a hard hat and standing by the edge, seemingly directing the work with blueprints in hand. That was the archaeological team leader in charge of the excavation; I remember his name was Zhang Qiang. At that press conference, he was surrounded by countless reporters, his face flashing with light so brightly that he seemed bewildered. So, I had a strong impression of him, though I couldn't recall what he had said at the time. Now, seeing him overseeing the excavation alone gave me the perfect opportunity for a private interview.

"Hello, Captain Zhang! My name is Na Duo, a reporter from the Morning Star." I introduced myself smoothly. "I'd like to ask if there's been any progress in the archaeological excavation?"

The man's dark skin gleamed in the sunlight. "Hello. It seems like I've been dealing with reporters the whole time these past few days," he said with a smile.

Zhang Qiang was clearly an honest and straightforward person. It was easy to deal with him; he usually didn't hide anything or play tricks.

However, to my utter disappointment, the excavation work had made almost no progress. What Zhang Qiang told me was basically the same information released at the press conference ten days prior. No meaningful artifacts had been unearthed. Archaeological work is indeed slow, as it requires meticulous attention to detail. Looking towards the site, I saw some workers hauling soil around the perimeter, while a few scattered professional excavators inside were diligently scrubbing with brushes no bigger than their palms, their backsides sticking out high, looking like lizards with their tongues lolling out from a distance. Every now and then, someone would sweep up a shard of porcelain or a piece of tile, examining it for a long time, looking at it with a magnifying glass, flipping through a booklet, and finally shaking their head and tossing it aside. According to Zhang Qiang, the current daily progress is only one to four meters, because they must proceed with extreme caution, step by step, and what they've unearthed are mostly old items thrown into the riverbed by nearby villagers years ago, of no real value. And therefore, no news value whatsoever.

I glanced at Zhang Qiang; he seemed quite interested. I remembered a joke that archaeologists prefer older wives because, to them, older things are more valuable. In short, people who do archaeology always seem a bit eccentric, always interested in the dead and the broken.

In reality, they are simply doing their job as best they can, just in different places and in different ways. Archaeology is still a very important field for humanity and society, though it carries a certain mystique.

I watched for a while and got tired of it, but I was also unwilling to give up. I was thinking about how to squeeze out a report from a different angle and in a different format. I kept asking Zhang Qiang all sorts of questions, such as the situation of the archaeological team, the background of the team members, the purpose of the unearthed old artifacts, and predictions about the future of archaeology.

At first, Zhang Qiang patiently answered all my questions, but after a while, it was clear that he was getting annoyed with me. He patted me hard and said with a wry smile, "Come back tomorrow. Someone from Beijing is coming tomorrow. He's an expert in archaeological excavation, an absolute authority. He's coming to re-examine the construction date and purpose of this place. Come back and find him then. He'll definitely have some news for you. I really have nothing more to tell you."

"Re-examining?" I couldn't help but ask curiously, "Didn't the press conference announce that the age and purpose had been determined, that it was a water gate structure from the Yuan Dynasty? Why re-examine it? Have there been any new discoveries?"

"No." Zhang Qiang was clearly trying to be patient as he spoke to me. "There were disagreements about the age and purpose from the beginning, which is normal; it happens every time we do archaeological excavations!"

Why are there disagreements?

"Why? To provide you journalists with news!" he joked.

Finally, I asked Zhang Qiang for the phone number of this archaeological expert named Ruan Xiuwen, and then went to work. At least I had gained something.

When I returned to my new home that evening, I was still quite used to it since I had just moved in. Normally, I might just pick up a book and read it, but I had been online all day at work these past two days, so I felt a bit aimless. That's when I thought about the large amount of intellectual legacy left by the homeowner.

Who is dreaming whose dream? Is it you or me who buried hope?

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Ghost King