The iron chain was broken, covered in a layer of old rust, and the links were covered in cobwebs, clearly indicating that this was not a recent occurrence.
“Eh!” Du Juan Mountain was also surprised. “What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing, it just means you were wrong; someone has been inside,” I replied, shining my flashlight through the iron gate’s bars. I noticed debris piled up on the stairs, and the dust was thick. A musty, stale odor wafted up.
“You don’t really want to go down there, do you? It’s filthy!” he said.
I hesitated, wondering if it was necessary to go down; it seemed unrelated to the purpose of my visit. The broken chain could have a million reasons behind it, or it might not have been locked at all. But even if there were bizarre reasons, what did it matter to me? I decided to let it go.
Just as I was about to leave, I instinctively swung the flashlight beam and illuminated the seal by the door.
Perhaps it was a remnant of making rubbings, but I couldn’t help glancing at the calligraphy; maybe it was the odd position of the seal, too low and somewhat conspicuous, that caught my attention.
Upon closer inspection, I was stunned to see that the old seal was firmly affixed to the door and had not been broken.
“Strange, look!” I said to Du Juan Mountain. “It seems this seal was put on later.”
He leaned in to take a look and also found it odd. “Maybe the institute discovered that the iron chain had been cut, so they put up the seal.”
That was even stranger. Why not just replace the chain and lock it up? What was the point of the seal? I said this as I shone the light on the writing on the seal. “Who would be afraid of a seal if they had already broken the chain?”
“There’s nothing valuable inside anyway. Perhaps they felt that whatever was in there wasn’t worth more than a chain!”
“That makes sense.” I found it somewhat amusing. Owning something doesn’t mean you possess its value. These old documents hold no value for people today and could even require significant funds to process, which is why they still lie here.
The text on the seal read: “Sealed by the Archaeological Institute of XX University on July 6, 1990.”
As someone who makes rubbings, I have a good intuition for calligraphy. Those few characters were written well; this handwriting must have been imitated from a relatively common calligrapher, and it felt very familiar.
Looking at the date, the sealing must have occurred in 1990, when Wen Jin had already gone missing, so this matter should have nothing to do with them.
I felt a sense of relief; great! Hope was completely dashed. I decided to return and start over! I called Du Juan Mountain to lead the way. He didn’t want to stay here too long either; after all, it wasn’t a good place, and he sighed in relief when I said we were leaving.
We returned the way we came, and everything went smoothly. The civilized world was much easier than the ancient tomb; I wasn’t nervous at all. So what if someone saw us? Even a hundred guards wouldn’t be as fierce as a zongzi!
Back at the hotel, I felt uneasy. This way, the path ahead seemed much narrower. If the documents yielded no clues, what else could I explore?

Thinking about it feels a bit unbelievable. How could there be no files? Could it really be as said in “Cuckoo Mountain”? The likelihood is actually quite low; as long as the events in Xisha occurred, the files must be there. Those files couldn’t possibly fit into just one bag. If they were truly to be destroyed, it might take clearing out half a row of file cabinets. But all the files are packed tightly, not looking like they’ve been tampered with.

I realized that perhaps my preconceived notions were wrong. There are students in the archaeological team, and they might not be affiliated with the university. These students could be interns who are already working, so the place Wenjin is at might not necessarily be this research institute.

Thinking this way made me feel much better. I reopened my computer and began looking for information on other research institutes, copying it down one by one, preparing to ask someone tomorrow. After all, I have plenty of time. It’s better to check each one to avoid any regrets.

After copying everything, I lay on my bed and filtered through the information, contemplating what the next steps should be. Some of these units are strict, while others are more lenient, so I need to start with the simplest tasks.

Looking at the notes I had taken, I suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if there was something in this notebook that caught my attention, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was upon closer examination.

Could it be that my obsessive-compulsive tendencies were acting up?

I laughed a bit, but then suddenly felt a jolt all over as that seal flashed through my mind: research institute, research institute, research institute… XX University Archaeological Research Institute…

Oh my God! I suddenly realized why the words on that seal looked so familiar!

—That’s damn well my own handwriting!