Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
"Be careful." Shen Mo Ting supported Lin Xueqing as she crouched down, vigilantly observing their surroundings.
Lin Xueqing held the Peach Wood Comb in her hand, carefully examining the structure of the Dark Compartment against the Blueprint. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
"Here..." Her fingers gently traced the edge of the Dark Compartment. "There’s a groove."
The shape of the Comb fit perfectly into the groove. The moment she inserted the Comb, a barely audible "click" sounded.
"Wait." Shen Mo Ting suddenly said, "Let me check."
He took out a device and scanned around the Dark Compartment. "No traps. It can be opened."
Lin Xueqing took a deep breath and slowly turned the Comb.
The bottom of the Dark Compartment slid open silently, revealing a brocade box. The box looked very old, yet showed no signs of dust.
"Over two hundred years..." Lin Xueqing murmured, "It has been perfectly sealed for over two hundred years."
Shen Mo Ting put on gloves and carefully took out the brocade box. "Should we open it now?"
Lin Xueqing nodded.
As soon as the lid was lifted, a faint fragrance wafted out. Inside was a yellowed letter and a jade pendant.
"This is..." Lin Xueqing held her breath.
The handwriting on the envelope had become blurred, but she could still make out the three characters: Lang Shining.
"Is this really a letter from Lang Shining?" Shen Mo Ting was also taken aback.
"No, it's not just a letter." Lin Xueqing pointed at the top of the envelope. "Look at this seal."
Under the moonlight, a special stamp adorned the envelope. It was an extremely rare insignia, representing a private correspondence from the Qianlong Emperor.
"So this is..."
"Private communication between the Qianlong Emperor and Lang Shining." Lin Xueqing's voice trembled slightly. "And it's the kind that must not be seen."
Shen Mo Ting pondered for a moment. "No wonder it was hidden in a place like this."
Lin Xueqing carefully opened the envelope. The paper inside had become brittle, but the handwriting remained clear.
"Your Majesty: I have heard that heavenly secrets must not be revealed; however, this matter concerns the state and cannot be ignored. There are conspiracies in the Western Regions, plotting treachery. As an artist, I am truly an undercover agent. This matter is of great importance, and I dare not speak plainly, hence I inform you with this Secret Letter..."
Both of their breaths grew heavy.
"I see," Shen Mo Ting murmured. "Lang Shining is not just a painter."
"He is a spy for Qianlong," Lin Xueqing continued. "And this letter reveals a conspiracy that could change history."
"That's why such complex mechanisms are needed for protection." Shen Mo Ting picked up the jade pendant. "This jade must be the token."
At that moment, footsteps echoed from afar.
"Someone's coming." Shen Mo Ting quickly tucked away the letter and jade pendant. "We need to leave immediately."
Lin Xueqing took out her comb, and the Dark Compartment silently closed. The two swiftly hid in the shadows.
The footsteps grew closer. In the moonlight, a shadow flitted past in the corridor.
"Let’s go." Shen Mo Ting pulled Lin Xueqing's hand, quietly retreating along the wall.
As they left the Qianqing Palace, Lin Xueqing glanced back. The moonlight washed over the ancient palace, which stood majestically as if whispering secrets that had remained unknown for over two hundred years.
The Forbidden City Restoration Institute was brightly lit in the early morning. Lin Xueqing and Shen Mo Ting sat in the Old Curator's studio, where an old, dust-covered letter lay open on the table.
"So, the Old Curator has known about this secret for a long time," Shen Mo Ting remarked as he looked at the letter.
Lin Xueqing nodded. "He has been studying the mechanism of the Comb all along, just to find this letter."
"So those people attacked him..."
"They probably thought the Old Curator had already found the letter," Lin Xueqing sighed. "But in reality, he only solved half of the puzzle."
Shen Mo Ting picked up the Peach Wood Comb. "This Comb was likely never just a simple token from the beginning."
"Right, it’s a key," Lin Xueqing gently traced the comb's surface. "A specially crafted mechanism key made by the Ministry of Works for the Qianlong Emperor."
"Then here’s the question," Shen Mo Ting squinted. "Why did this key end up lost all those years ago?"
Lin Xueqing fell silent for a moment. "Perhaps that was exactly what Qianlong intended."
"What do you mean?"
"Look at the date on this letter." She pointed to the paper. "The fifteenth year of Qianlong. What happened that year?"
Shen Mo Ting pondered for a moment. "The Zungharian Campaign?"
"Yes. That battle is crucial to the Great Qing's rule in the northwest." Lin Xueqing's eyes sparkled. "And Lang Shining's secret letter reveals the internal conspiracies within Zunghar."
"So Qianlong deliberately let the Comb slip away..."
"It's a trap," Lin Xueqing said. "He wants his opponents to believe that the whereabouts of the Comb and the letter have been leaked."
Shen Mo Ting suddenly understood. "To draw the snake out of its hole."
"And now, someone wants to uncover this part of history," Lin Xueqing gazed out the window, "by any means necessary."
Just then, the phone rang abruptly. It was a call from the hospital.
"The Old Curator has woken up." Lin Xueqing hung up the phone. "He wants to see us."
The hospital corridor remained quiet. Pushing open the door to the intensive care unit, they found the Old Curator leaning against the headboard, his face pale but his mind clear.
"Xiao Lin," his voice was weak, "you already know the secret of the Comb, right?"
Lin Xueqing nodded. "You found out about this long ago?"
"Only part of it," the Old Curator smiled bitterly. "I found the Blueprint, but I could never decipher the Coordinates. Until you showed up..."
"Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"Because it was too dangerous," the Old Curator sighed. "Those people have been lurking in the shadows, watching. What they want is not just a historical truth."
"Who are they?" Shen Mo Ting asked.
"I don't know either," Old Curator shook his head. "But they seem to know everything about the Forbidden City, as if..."
"As if they belong here," Lin Xueqing interjected.
Old Curator's gaze suddenly sharpened. "Xiao Lin, do you remember what I told you?"
"Some doors are meant to be unseen."
"Exactly," Old Curator's voice dropped lower. "Similarly, some truths are better left unspoken for protection."
Lin Xueqing felt a stir in her heart. "Are you saying...?"
But Old Curator had already closed his eyes. "I'm tired; let me rest for a while."
As they exited the hospital room, Lin Xueqing's expression was grave.
"He is reminding us," Shen Mo Ting said.
"Yes," Lin Xueqing gazed out at the Forbidden City. "This secret may be one that should continue to lie dormant."
Comment 0 Comment Count