The old things I repaired have become fine

Chapter 690 Oh no! The burial objects in the cave are causing trouble!

Where is Princess Pingyang Zhao buried?
Faced with this problem, Shen Le could only turn his head and look around, hoping that one of the professors could give him some hints.

The people in the cave probably represent half of the elite archaeologists in Chang'an. If someone could provide the answer, it would most likely be one of them—unfortunately, he only received a chorus of shakes of the head.

"There is no record of this in official history."

There is no record of where her husband, Chai Shao, was buried—it is also unknown whether the couple was buried together.

"Xianling is the mausoleum of Li Yuan. So far, no tomb of Princess Pingyang has been excavated among the nearby burial tombs."

"There are none near Zhaoling either—of course, theoretically one shouldn't be buried near Zhaoling; Xianling is more likely."

"Nothing was found near Niangziguan either. Sigh, the Niangziguan Hydropower Station might even have more say in this matter than we do?"

"So you're saying they were taken away by the Trisolarans...?"

A voice drifted out from the crowd. Everyone laughed. An elderly professor, who was bent over, carefully examining the glaze on a terracotta horse, quickly turned his head to avoid spitting out his drink onto the terracotta figure.

"What! What are you saying!"

However, even if the location of the tomb is unknown, so many archaeological experts must have their own insights into the selection of tomb sites.

Even Shen Le, who had never studied classic works in the field of Yin house feng shui such as "The Burial Classic," "The Green Bag Classic," and "The Shaking Dragon Classic," instinctively knew:

"Who would choose a burial site by a pool or in the middle of a cliff? This isn't a novel like 'Ghost Blows Out the Light,' where all sorts of strange and unusual tombs are created!"

Given this, it's quite intriguing to see what's hidden inside this cave.

A group of professors, along with their students, were busy taking photos, counting objects, and drawing diagrams. Shen Le noticed the old professor examining the terracotta horse figurines; his eyes were practically glued to the figurines, and he was muttering to himself.
"This yellow...this green...this glaze...it's not mature Tang Sancai; it must be from a period earlier...eighty years? One hundred years?"

Shen Le was genuinely afraid he'd bite into the terracotta figurine. "Professor," she said, "the glaze on those pottery pieces was low-temperature lead glaze, and the lead content was...unpredictable. If you were to bite into it, you'd most likely get lead poisoning."

Of course, this assumes you can actually digest that enamel. But even if you can't, you'll still likely break a few teeth!
Another professor knelt on the ground, straightened his back, and awkwardly spread his arms to block the students behind him.

Two students, one on each side, grabbed his arms, as if less about rushing forward and more about preventing their teacher from falling onto the collection.
"Don't go over there...don't go over there! Don't touch it! Look at the painted patterns on this scabbard! It's never been unearthed before! Take pictures quickly—but don't use the flash! Be careful the paint doesn't fade!"

Not far from him, another professor lay sprawled on the ground, his head tilted as he peered through a crack in a wooden door at the edge of the hall.

His fingers unconsciously traced patterns on the ground, his voice trembling:

"What's in this room? What is it? Is it a ceremonial regalia? Nothing like this has ever been unearthed before!!!"

Half of the professors in the hall were engrossed, while the other half were going crazy.

Only one professor, the oldest of them all, with snow-white hair and skin loosely covering his bones on his arms, who looked to be at least eighty years old, walked slowly along the collection with his hands empty.

He walked, counted, and muttered to himself. He circled around once, then around again, and suddenly raised his voice:

"Xiao Li, Xiao Zhao!"

"Professor Meng!" Two professors with gray hair suddenly turned around and walked over. Although they were about to retire, in front of their mentor, they were still "little ones" and had no temper at all when addressed like that.

The two men bowed slightly, one on each side, carefully supporting their mentor's arm, listening respectfully to his teachings. Old Master Meng straightened his back, looked around, and said in a deep voice:
"Have you counted the number of armored soldiers displayed in this hall? Do you get a sense of their numbers?"

What does it feel like?
Shen Le listened intently while racking his brains for information. The hall contained dozens to hundreds of terracotta horse figurines, armor, and weapons, varying in quantity depending on the type.

However, asking him to deduce a pattern from this number is beyond his academic ability; he simply can't come up with anything...

Fortunately, Professor Meng wasn't there for him. The old man shifted his gaze slightly and fixed it on the two young researchers in the room.

One of them, carrying a notebook, quickly stepped forward and recited fluently:
"Forty Tang tri-colored warhorses, two hundred armored soldier figurines, twenty long spears, twenty long halberds, one hundred long spears... horizontal swords... shield swords... forty ceremonial swords with patterns..."

Two bass drums, two medium drums, four snare drums, one large cymbal, one small cymbal, two copper horns, two large ox horns, four long flutes, four short flutes...

A canopy decorated with bird feathers, suspected to be a feather canopy... and a large number of flags were displayed in front and behind..."

Upon hearing this list, even Shen Le, whose historical knowledge was utterly lacking, immediately understood. Where the old man's gaze was fixed, another young researcher stepped forward, his voice fluent:

"An imperial edict was issued to add feathered banners, drums, trumpets, forty guards with swords, and elite tiger-armored soldiers to the front and rear entourages. This is the funeral ceremony of Princess Pingyang Zhao, as recorded in the Old Book of Tang!"

The cave fell into an eerie silence. Everyone already had their suspicions, but when the evidence was laid bare before them, more than one person held their breath.

To Shen Le's left, Professor Han swallowed hard, seemingly choking, and reflexively tried to cough, but immediately covered his mouth tightly.

At this moment, he didn't dare to make a single extra sound!

Three generations, young and old, countless eyes swept across the room, meeting briefly before glancing up, down, left, and right. Shen Le didn't need to read minds to know they were looking for the same thing:
Where's the coffin?
Where is Princess Pingyang Zhao's coffin?
The ceremonial guards are here, the terracotta figures of armored soldiers and horses are here, and the armor and weapons are also here. So, what is the core essence of a tomb—

Where is the coffin?
We've already explored the area once, but we haven't found anything resembling a coffin. Moreover, the overall structure of this cave doesn't seem like it could hold a coffin!
“…Mr. Shen.” Old Meng glanced around again, his gaze landing directly on Shen Le. Shen Le quickly stepped forward, bending low and gently supporting his arms with both hands.
"Professor Meng, you can just call me Xiao Shen. The textbook I use in class was compiled under the supervision of your students!"

It was edited by him! Not written by his students!
The person who put pen to paper is already a student of this old gentleman's student!
Calling me Mr. Shen is too formal; I really can't accept it, it would shorten my lifespan!
“…Little Shen.” Old Meng smiled and readily corrected his form of address:

"You led us to this batch of cultural relics, which is excellent, very good, and extremely rare. However, my opinion is that these relics should be left as they are for now, and we can conduct a comprehensive excavation when we are confident that we can fully protect them."

What do you think? "

A slight commotion arose around them. Some people inhaled, some exhaled. Shen Le couldn't turn around, but he could sense the fluctuations of relief or disappointment.

Professor Han was a little better off, since he was only there to see the architectural structure and was satisfied with what he saw; he didn't expect to move the cave out as well.

The one kneeling on the ground, watching Ban Jian, the one crawling on the ground trying to see the carriage clearly, exhaled breaths that were almost burning with disappointment. One professor had already cried out in disbelief:
"Old Meng!"

"Ok?"

"Old Meng, we can't go this far!" At the other end of the cave, a professor who had been carefully taking photos of the armor while lying on the ground practically crawled over:

“This cave isn’t buried deep underground; it has openings that connect it to the outside. It’s not preserved in an oxygen-free environment all the time! If it can be preserved here, we can move it out and it can be preserved too!”

"is it?"

The old man chuckled softly. He neither argued nor looked away, but simply stared intently at Shen Le:

"Xiao Shen, what do you think?"

"I—I can't explain it well."

Shen Le didn't turn to look at the professor who had raised the objection, nor did he glance to the side. He simply stared at the elderly man before him, who was dragging his frail body as he trudged into the mountains, and spoke respectfully:
"Logically, these things, which are constantly exposed to the natural environment, shouldn't have lasted this long. I currently have no way of determining the conditions that would allow them to be preserved for so long—"

Perhaps it's the unique spiritual energy environment of this mountain?
Perhaps it's the essence of metal?
Perhaps it was that tiger tally, which had developed sentience and was almost fully formed, that governed everything?
Perhaps it's the stone sarcophagus above the cave, and the unknown entity within it? Of course, even now, Shen Le doesn't believe that Princess Pingyang Zhao's remains lie dormant inside that stone sarcophagus...

"If you can't make a judgment, then try not to change the status quo. That's the right thing to do." Old Meng smiled, raised his hand and patted Shen Le's hand with surprisingly strong force.

Then, he stretched out his arm, letting Shen Le support him, and slowly walked towards the miniature ancient house at the entrance of the hall:
"Everyone, hurry up! Record what you can, take photos if you can, and then leave in an orderly fashion—don't alter the environment here. Xiao Shen, can you take me first?"

Shen Le helped him take small steps forward. After only a few steps, her expression suddenly changed. She switched from supporting him to carrying him, one hand supporting Old Meng's back, the other scooping up his legs, and she took off running.
"Retreat! Retreat quickly! Retreat into the old house in an orderly manner! Don't look around! Get in here right now!!!"

Shouting, he leaped several times, landing directly at the entrance of the old house. Huang Yutong quickly increased the height and width of the gatehouse, making it the height of a normal gate tower, and opened all three main doors wide.

Before Shen Le even entered the cave, the entire cave was shaking violently, and dust and pebbles rained down from the ceiling, making a series of crackling sounds.

The quick-thinking students had already begun sprinting towards the old house. Professor Han took two steps, then suddenly turned back, grabbed a professor from the university who researched textile restoration, and dragged him towards the old house with all his might.

The professor was half-suspended on Professor Han's arm, struggling on his own:
"Let me take one more look! One more picture! I was almost done—"

"You almost lost your life!" Professor Han tossed him to the two students who had just realized what was happening and rushed back to drag him away, then went over to pull him up himself.

Shen Le had already flashed out like a wisp of smoke, picked up Professor Han, and turned to rush back into the old house. Professor Han only felt his body lighten, his vision blurred, and then his legs firmly planted on the ground before he realized what had happened:

"Isn't this that house? The old house I led the repair team to... Strange, it's quiet here, not shaking at all? Wait, where did Shen Le go again?"

Looking to the left, the three gates of the old house were wide open, and a steady stream of teachers and students were rushing in, their faces still showing signs of shock.
Looking to the right, Old Man Meng sat in an armchair in the main hall, slowly raising his eyes to look around, still with a look of "Who am I? Where am I? What happened?"

Two young men from the Special Affairs Bureau stood guard on either side of the gate, their lips moving as they counted heads to see how many people hadn't yet evacuated.
A few individuals had already recovered and were about to rush out:

"My advisor/Xiao Li/Xin Xin/Professor Ma is still outside!"

"Don't go out!" Professor Han was among the first to recover, and by this time he had already sorted out his thoughts:

"Stay to the side, don't move around, and keep order! Don't crowd at the doorway! Be careful of a stampede!"

Dozens of people were rushing out and running in, and what was worse, they couldn't see each other at all—Professor Han was certain that he couldn't see what was happening inside the cave—a collision could easily lead to a stampede!
"Shen Le! Maintain order!!!"

"It's in progress!" Shen Le responded loudly. With his shout, several flowing skirts fluttered out, gently but undeniably dispersing the crowd, directing the surging flow of people to the corridors, side rooms, and the back hall;

A row of clay figurines rushed out, over the gate, and straight into the cave. A moment later, two figurines at a time, carrying the shouting teachers and students, came back, put them down, and then ran off again…

The clay figurines ran much faster than ordinary people. In the blink of an eye, all the researchers and special affairs bureau personnel who had followed Shen Le into the cave were brought in without exception.

The professors exchanged bewildered glances, still shaken. Shen Le had already stepped out of the house, reached out and grabbed the ancient house, which had shrunk to the size of a string of beads, and looked up at it:

White light.

Abundant, sharp, and endless white light poured down from the top of the cave, illuminating the entire cave.

The cave echoed with creaking sounds as the objects placed on shelves, sealed in boxes, or displayed on the cave's edge came to life, one by one:
The armored warriors, with heavy steps, donned their armor themselves, picked up spears and halberds, and carried ceremonial swords and shields, forming a line.
Tang Dynasty (?) tri-colored horse figurines stand in formation, with armored soldiers mounting their horses and holding spears in their hands;
Some raised feathered canopies, some held high flags, some beat military drums, and some held bugles, blowing them with all their might...

Then, all the terracotta warriors turned their heads in unison, staring intently at Shen Le, who looked bewildered in the white light.

Shen Le: ...What do you want to do?
What do you want me to do? Just say it!
(End of this chapter)