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墨書 Inktalez
"Are you going to buy it or not?" The Boss's displeased question jolted me back to reality. I put down the yellowed booklet, still wanting more. "Boss! Do you have any more booklets like this?"
His gaze towards me was clearly strange. The old book market usually opens on Saturdays at three or four in the morning, with vendors buying bags and bags of books. The leftover scraps are only picked up by a few scattered customers after seven or eight o'clock, following some haggling. For the Boss, such customers were evidently not worth his time; he dismissively said, "Look for yourself. If you can't find it, then it's gone!" His tone implied that he was busy and didn't want to be bothered.
I rummaged through the Book Stall for over an hour, finding mostly common items. One book titled "Sixteen Character Yin-Yang Formula" caught my attention, but after flipping through it briefly, I tossed it back onto the stall. Another book, "Tomb Raider Notebook," which was a complete copy of "Southern School Sanjie," was riddled with typos. Turning back, I asked again, "Boss, do you have any more copies of that booklet?"
The Boss was clearly getting impatient. He was in the business of reselling books—buying by weight and selling by the piece. He barely glanced at the covers; who would read every single book? If he did that, he might as well just sit down and read for pleasure instead of making money. He shook his head and told me to check out the nearby Book Stall and not disturb his business.
After browsing the other Book Stall for a while, I returned and asked, "Do you have any books about the Taklamakan Meteorite? You know, the one that fell over forty years ago!"
"I don't know!" The Boss replied curtly. "Boss, how much is this one?" I asked, holding up the yellowed booklet. "Thirty!" he said. "Thirty is too expensive; it's just thirty pages with blank ones!" "Fifteen is my final offer; I paid thirteen for it!" "Fine! Fifteen it is; deal!" I pulled out some crumpled bills and handed them to him. The Boss stuffed the book into a plastic bag without looking up and continued sorting through his books.
I had just taken a couple of steps when the Boss suddenly called out, "Hey, wait a minute!" I thought perhaps he had a change of heart and wanted to refund me. But then I worried he might backtrack on our deal. Though hesitant in my mind, my feet stopped.
The Boss said, "The old man selling books told me someone would buy this book today; I didn't believe him at first. He insisted on giving that person a phone number!" His words piqued my curiosity about that old man.
The Boss left me a number which I saved in my phone before heading home. After washing up, I prepared to go to work for overtime in the afternoon; we were currently iterating on a game version! Ah, being an overtime worker is tough!
Let me introduce myself:
My name is Xia Ji, I'm twenty-four years old and born into a family of archaeologists. My ancestors were involved in antique trading at Liuli Factory; how many generations it's been is unclear to me. During college entrance exam applications, my father adamantly refused to let me apply for an archaeology major—this was my grandfather's wish.
My family has always been connected to cultural relics! Whether it's heirloom antiques or unearthed artifacts, there's always been a heavy atmosphere surrounding them. My grandfather was a field archaeologist who reportedly died in the Xinjiang desert. Several uncles are involved in archaeology as well as forensic science and funeral services—all related to death.
After graduating from university, I found a job as a game planner. With deadlines approaching for version releases, I've had to pull several all-nighters recently. So much so that even I don't know when I'll visit the old book market again; yet here was this stranger who seemed to know exactly when! Out of curiosity, I decided to call the number.
"Hello! Is this Mr. Li Hongwei?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"Oh! It's from the old Book Stall Boss who gave me your number. I'm curious about the content of the second half of that book; sorry for bothering you!"
"Oh! Finally found you! Tomorrow around three in the afternoon, meet me at Drum Tower District Industrial Road Stilt House station; I'll come out to pick you up!" Hearing this made me think that this guy must be confused—why would he want to meet me? But I kept my mouth polite and hung up after saying goodbye, planning to take an afternoon nap before heading out!
At three in the afternoon, I arrived at Stilt House bus station.
A chubby old man approached me wearing a large tank top on top and baggy shorts below, with sandals on his feet. He carried a free supermarket bag containing a thermos and several books in his left hand. The old man seemed to recognize me as he smiled and waved over.
I couldn't be sure it was him, so I hurriedly made a phone call, and indeed, it was him!
We arrived at a Tea House, where the old man took out a cup of tea and two small cups, pouring tea for me.
After sipping his tea for a while, he spoke up, "You really do look just like him..." Halfway through his sentence, he seemed to realize he had misspoken and quickly changed the subject. "Are you very interested in the latter half of this book?" I nodded in agreement.
I pulled out the booklet and asked, "Old man, did you write this?" He sighed and said, "Ah! That was decades ago. Do you believe that everything in there is true?" "I don't believe it!" "I am that Li." I thought to myself, "While it's well written, saying that makes him sound crazy!"
He appeared unconcerned and pulled out a file from his bag. "This matter can be verified; I didn't just make it up. I may have only exaggerated a bit in literary terms!"
I took the file and examined it closely; it contained daily reports from July to August 40 years ago. It was indeed verifiable, but this was too outrageous! I cursed inwardly, "This is almost like using a beauty filter! And he calls it literary exaggeration!"
To my surprise, the old man's next words were even more shocking: "I know the whereabouts of your grandfather Xia Youfang!"
I was utterly astonished. My grandfather's disappearance was the greatest taboo in our family. This mysterious old man actually knew where my grandfather was!
My grandfather was born in 1915 and graduated from Peking University with a degree in Archaeology under Mr. Li Ji. He had participated in the excavation of the Peking Man skull and also took part in the discovery of oracle bones at Yinxu. Later, it was said he died in Xinjiang, with not even his bones found. To spare my grandmother's feelings, our entire family avoided mentioning his name, and gradually his disappearance became a taboo for us.
My grandfather was undoubtedly an extraordinary person. It was said that as long as the old man grabbed a handful of soil, he could smell the age of a Tomb. Just by looking at the sealed earth, he could tell who was buried inside! Even the Boss of Liuli Factory loved to watch him; if he looked at antiques for just a moment longer, they would definitely sell for a good price. Honestly, I didn't believe any of this. It all seemed like nonsense! As I grew older, I just laughed it off!
Regarding his Archaeology work, I wasn't particularly clear on that. While flipping through Archaeology magazines, I even saw published papers on Yinxu Tomb attributed to his name. The old man's expertise in this field was recognized nationally!
"Can you tell me my grandfather's whereabouts?"
"Not so fast! Here’s a book; read it first. I'll tell you later!"
"Alright! Thank you very much!"
"Today can be considered a return to its rightful owner!" The old man then took out a thick Diary. "This Diary is your grandfather's work manual; I'm returning it to you!" I extended my hands respectfully to receive it.
Time flew by; dusk had fallen. The old man quietly pulled out something tightly wrapped in plastic from his bag and carefully unwrapped it—it was a Black Stone Fragment that he handed over to me.
I took the Black Stone Fragment and examined it; it was about the size of my palm with very neat edges. Holding it in my hand felt icy cold and somewhat heavy; both sides were smooth and etched with strange symbols!
"This is what your grandfather entrusted to me; I've kept it for many years—today it returns to its rightful owner!" The old man pointed at the strange symbols on the stone. "Kid, I've studied these runes for half my life and still can't understand them!"
I took the meteorite and those books and stuffed them into my backpack. On the bus, I opened the lower part of the booklet; inside was a stark white page with blood-written words: "Never walk my path!" I felt utterly disappointed—what kind of ridiculous book is this? It was simply nonsense!
The only thing worth celebrating was that I finally witnessed my grandfather's handiwork! In the face of his craftsmanship, it felt like standing before an ancestor.
I returned home and took out the meteorite once more, examining it closely under the light. The meteorite had a delicate and smooth texture, almost like a mirror. On its front side, there were inscriptions resembling Sanskrit, as if they formed a piece of writing. The back was covered with dense symbols that looked like carvings or cracks. In short, with my limited knowledge, I couldn't decipher it! From the damage to the characters, I could infer that this was just one of the fragments.
I carefully stored the meteorite away. The lights were already off, and I was about to fall asleep when suddenly, the phone rang!
I glanced at the caller ID; it was my grandfather calling.
"Hey, are you doing alright?"
Hearing him say that, I guessed he was mostly asking about the meteorite! I replied nonchalantly.
"The meteorite is just fine!"
He hesitated for a moment and sighed. "Ah... well, as long as it's good... If anything happens at night, remember to call me. I sleep lightly at night and can answer anytime!" He reminded me repeatedly. I casually acknowledged him and hung up.
"What could possibly happen to me?"
That night, however, something significant did occur. Thankfully, my grandfather's call served as a reminder; otherwise, I might have missed witnessing another sunrise.
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