Ya She

Chapter 19 Nine Dragon Cup

The doctor emerged wearily from the operating room, jotting down a brief surgical report on the patient's medical record as he walked. Having just completed an eight-hour surgery and stood by the operating table all day, his legs felt weak even as he walked.

He desperately needed a big meal to replenish his energy. Looking at the medical record in his hand, the doctor felt his handwriting was starting to resemble illegible scribbles. Oh well, everyone's the same; as long as we can understand each other, that's fine. Fortunately, the head doctor was there to handle the communication with the families, so as an assistant, he only needed to complete the written documents.

It was already evening, and apart from the emergency room, which remained packed, the corridors of the rest of the hospital were almost overflowing with people. The doctor was once again thankful that he had been transferred from the emergency department this year. He smiled and greeted the nurse on duty, handed in the patient records, and prepared to go back to the break room to change and go home. He thought, "I'll also drop by the 'Silent Shop' place; if the owner hasn't eaten, I'll drag him out for a big meal."

Thinking of the delicious boiled fish fillets, the doctor's mood immediately brightened, and his pace quickened considerably. Just as he rounded the corner and was about to descend the stairs, he unexpectedly bumped into someone walking up the wall, face-to-face. The doctor inwardly cursed; he couldn't stop himself from stepping forward. The handrail was far away on the other side, out of his reach. Fortunately, there was a handrail on the side of the staircase where the doctor was standing, for the convenience of patients with difficulty going up and down. The doctor grabbed the handrail with his left hand, but couldn't stop himself from leaning forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the other person carefully holding a cup, undoubtedly filled with hot water. If he continued bumping into them at this rate, he would surely be soaked.

Faced with the choice between being scalded with hot water or rolling down the stairs, the doctor's brain hadn't even made a final decision when his body reacted. He braced himself on the handrail with his left hand and fell to his right.

An ordinary person would have jumped to the right side of the stairs and grabbed the handrail to stop the fall. But doctors cherish their hands most; they even wear rubber gloves to protect them when washing dishes or doing housework, fearing any accidental injury. In this situation, the doctor couldn't possibly risk injuring their wrists by grabbing the handrail. They even suppressed the urge to brace themselves with their hands, tucking them in front of their chest, reflexively closing their eyes, and preparing to use their back to absorb the impact.

The expected pain didn't occur. Instead, the doctor felt an arm encircle his waist, pulling him back from the brink of a fall. He opened his eyes in surprise, only to realize that his glasses had long since fallen off during the series of accidents. Through his blurry vision, the doctor saw that he had been saved by the man he had almost collided with head-on. The man's other hand was still holding a cup steadily, clearly indicating that the rescue was effortless and natural. The doctor could only vaguely make out that the man was wearing a hoodie, obscuring his face, and his severe nearsightedness prevented him from seeing his features. But the doctor instinctively felt that this person wasn't a staff member of their hospital. Awkwardly, with the man's help, he stood up again, searching for his fallen glasses as he cleared his throat and said, "It's very late, visiting hours are over. If you need medical attention, please go to the emergency room." "Brother..." the man's murmured voice faintly reached his ears. The doctor froze, almost wondering if he was hallucinating. But the doctor's attention was immediately drawn to a slight pain in his left hand. Wait, when did he cut himself?! How could he be so careless? Luckily, it was his left hand, and the wound wasn't deep...

"Your glasses." The man's voice rang out coolly, this time speaking into the doctor's ear. The doctor saw something being handed to him from his left and reflexively took it with his left hand.

The moment his fingertips touched the cold object, the doctor knew it wasn't his own glasses. But before he could see what it was, his consciousness seemed to be pulled out of his body, and he knew nothing more.

Hu Hai pulled the limp doctor back into his arms with one hand, and caught the jade cup in his hand before it fell to the ground with the other.

He looked at the glaring bloodstain on the jade cup, a satisfied smile curving his lips. Then, his crimson eyes looked expectantly at the sleeping man in his arms.

"Brother, I know you are still in this body. As long as I seal this soul, you will wake up again."

two

"That's the situation. By the time the hospital security guards realized something was wrong and rushed over, he was already unconscious. That person left this jade cup and ran away." Chun Ge stood in the Silent Shop, frowning as he smelled the strange incense in the shop. "He's still asleep. I suspect this cup came from you, boss. I was afraid you'd worry, so I gave it to you first." As he spoke, he carefully took a white jade cup from his pocket and gently placed it on the counter.

The shopkeeper didn't reach for the white jade cup. He just stared at the glaring bloodstains on it for a long time before saying calmly, "This Nine Dragons Cup doesn't belong to this shop."

"This white jade cup is called Nine Dragons Cup?" Chun Ge glanced at it and indeed, eight divine dragons in different poses were embossed on the cup, and the handle was carved from a single dragon, making a total of nine dragons. Even without knowing its origin, Chun Ge could tell that the Nine Dragons Cup was quite valuable. He knew the doctor often stayed in this antique shop, so he was afraid that the Nine Dragons Cup was also some kind of precious antique, and he couldn't afford to pay for it if it broke. "Then I'll leave it with you for now, boss. I'm worried that with so many people coming and going in the hospital, it might get lost or broken. I'll head back now!" Chun Ge always felt that this antique shop was eerie, and he felt uncomfortable staying there any longer.

"Is he alright?" the boss suddenly asked as Chun Ge turned to leave.

"Oh, he's still asleep. I've already checked him out, and he's fine. It's just that the continuous high-intensity surgeries have left him exhausted. We'll talk to him when he wakes up. Bye!" Chun Ge was also in a hurry to get back to work, so he left after saying that casually.

The boss didn't say anything, but went into the inner room, found a brocade box of similar size, and put the Nine Dragons Embroidery inside.

"Boss, what did you just put in there? I saw it! Let me see it!" As soon as the doctor regained consciousness, the first thing he heard was the curator's familiar nagging voice.

Huh? Is he in the Silent House now? He seems to remember being in the hospital just now. The doctor struggled to open his eyes, only to find himself surrounded by darkness, and unable to move any part of his body.
What happened? Was he having a nightmare? Or did he actually fall down the stairs and break bones all over his body? But he didn't feel any pain!
As the doctor was lost in thought, a bright light suddenly shone before his eyes, and the curator's face, magnified several times, appeared in front of him, startling him.

The curator was clearly more shocked than him, and gasped, "My God! Nine dragons! A thin white jade cup! The quality of the jade! The design! Could it be the Nine Dragon Cup that Emperor Kangxi loved most?"

“The Nine Dragon Cup!” A light voice drifted from the creaking of the carved door. The doctor easily recognized the voice as belonging to the painter who frequented the Silent Shop; no one else spoke with such a calm yet arrogant tone. “What a coincidence, you’re here too?” The curator glanced to the side before his gaze returned. “This Nine Dragon Cup is a wine vessel. If filled with jade wine, nine surging dragons can be seen within it. Legend has it that the infamous bandit Yang Xiangwu broke into the palace three times because of this cup, but failed each time, thus making the Nine Dragon Cup famous. After Emperor Kangxi’s death, the Nine Dragon Cup was buried with him in the Jingling Mausoleum as one of his cherished possessions. During the War of Resistance against Japan, a group of bandits took advantage of the chaos to loot the Jingling Mausoleum, and the Nine Dragon Cup disappeared without a trace. Boss, is this the legendary Nine Dragon Cup?”

The boss didn't answer, but the artist leaned over for a glance and then walked nonchalantly into the back room of the Silent Shop.

The doctor paid no heed to the painter's dismissive attitude, for he seemed to have discovered something that horrified him. Why was the curator talking about the Nine Dragon Cup while his eyes remained fixed on him? He didn't seem to have any strange fetishes!
The doctor watched in horror as the curator carefully pulled out a handkerchief, dried his hands, and then, with eyes gleaming green, reached out his sinister hand towards him. He was so horrified he almost screamed. Fortunately, the shop owner intervened in time to save him: "Trust me, you don't want to touch this Nine Dragon Cup."

The curator's hand froze in mid-air. "Why? Is there some other explanation?"

"Legend has it that only the true emperor can touch the Nine Dragon Cup; if anyone else touches it..." The shopkeeper paused meaningfully.

"What will happen?" the curator asked anxiously.

"Who knows? You can give it a try," the boss said with a smile.

"..." The curator obediently withdrew his hand.

The doctor almost laughed upon hearing this. Wasn't the boss obviously lying? And the curator actually believed him! Just as he was chuckling to himself, the doctor found himself turned around, facing the boss's deep, dark gaze. He was startled, then horrified. For in the boss's dark pupils, he saw his own reflection—an exquisitely carved jade cup!

He must be dreaming. Yes, just like that strange yellow millet pillow from last time, it must be!
Thinking this, the doctor calmed down. After all, he was dreaming! But, boss, didn't you just tell the curator that the Nine Dragon Cup shouldn't be touched? How come you picked it up yourself after the curator left? The doctor complained as he felt himself being held in a pair of cold hands.

This dream was absolutely bizarre!

He was placed on the third floor of the Treasure Pavilion, from which he could see the entire interior of the Silent Shop clearly. The doctor watched with curiosity as the owner wiped each antique piece with a rag, realizing that the owner also needed to clean regularly. He had assumed the owner was someone who never lifted a finger and used some strange method to keep the Silent Shop spotless! "The new guy," a hoarse voice suddenly called out as the doctor was lost in thought.

The doctor looked around but didn't see any customers enter the store. Strangely, the owner seemed not to hear anything and continued working.

He must be hallucinating… Just as the doctor thought this, he noticed the smoke emanating from the gilded dragon-shaped incense burner on the counter, as if it had a mind of its own, automatically swirling towards him without any wind. “New guy, where did you come from?”

When the smoke rolled over, the doctor instinctively tried to hold his breath, but the next second he remembered that he was dreaming and that he had absurdly turned into a jade cup, so inhaling some secondhand smoke shouldn't be a problem.

"Are you... talking to me?" The doctor tried to speak, but the voice he made didn't sound like the voice he used to hear himself. It was as if they were on different levels. The voice he made sounded like the buzzing of a jade cup, but it was still understandable.

"Besides you, who else in this shop is new?" Boshanlu was very patient, the smoke from the incense burner returning to its previous swirling motion, like a lazy old man lying back in his recliner. He spoke in a mix of ancient and modern Chinese, making the doctor dizzy.

"Brother Boshan, have you forgotten? There's another newcomer, the one with the golden ghost mask that's always hanging on the wall. He only arrived last week." A charming female voice appeared out of nowhere. This time, the doctor followed the sound and found that the candlelight of the Changxin Palace Lantern on the left side of the door flickered a few times as the woman spoke.

"That ghost mask is too full of resentment." The smoke from the Boshan incense burner flickered a few times, as if expressing his strong dissatisfaction. "I really don't know why the boss kept that ghost mask. It always makes me feel like someone is spying on me, which goes against the harmony in the Silent Shop. It's not good." "Hehe, that golden ghost mask actually seals the soul of a handsome man! It's a pity that he's still sealed and can't come out to chat with us." The candlelight of the Changxin Palace Lantern flickered merrily, suggesting that it belonged to a lively woman.

No, no, the doctor quickly dismissed the thought. How could he think like that? No matter how outrageous it seemed, it was just a lamp!
"Boshan censer... Changxin Palace Lantern... they can actually talk?" The doctor couldn't help but start to complain. Even if this was his dream, it was still a bit outrageous, wasn't it? An antique extravaganza?
"Tsk, can't you talk too? So what if you have the Nine Dragons Cup?" Changxin Palace Lantern said in a very disdainful tone. "Also, my name is Linglong, and next to me is my little sister Linlang. She doesn't talk much. Ever since our sisters Langya and Jinyu got married, she's become even less talkative."

"Married...married off?" The doctor was shocked. The Changxin Palace Lantern could get married? Married to whom? A third wheel? And weren't the Changxin Palace Lanterns all made of bronze? Why were they all named after precious jade?

"What? Do you look down on us for not being married yet? Humph! This young lady has high standards!" As if this had struck a nerve with Linglong, the candlelight on the Changxin Palace Lantern flickered rapidly, revealing her agitated state of mind. Meanwhile, the Changxin Palace Lantern beside it burned calmly, the two lanterns, one still and one moving, forming a stark contrast.

"Yes, yes..." The doctor was completely speechless.

“Grandpa Boshan, this new little brother is a bit strange.” A bright, boyish voice suddenly interjected, “Grandpa, didn’t you say that only ancient artifacts over a thousand years old can condense into a spirit? This Nine Dragon Cup is just a small thing that’s only three or four hundred years old. There’s something strange about it.”

To hell with this weirdness! The weirdest thing is this shop! What kind of "silent shop" is this?! The antiques inside can clearly talk! And these little things are only three or four hundred years old! The doctor suppressed his urge to roar and looked in the direction of the sound. He instinctively felt that the sound came from the celadon porcelain plate on the opposite side of the treasure pavilion. He remembered that the curator had said that it should be an antique from the Song Dynasty.

Is it possible that something from the Song Dynasty still has a "young boy" accent?

"As long as you have a strong belief, anything is possible." Boshan Furnace also quoted a popular advertising slogan.

The doctor weakly defended himself, saying, "I am not the Nine Dragon Cup. Before today, I was still a human being." He must be confused in his dream. He should just wake up. Why bother arguing with these problematic antiques?

But as soon as he finished speaking, he noticed that the atmosphere in the store was not right. After a brief silence, a murmur suddenly broke out.

Although the doctor couldn't quite make out what they were saying, it sent chills down his spine. Everywhere he looked, even though there was only the owner in the shop, the whole place seemed to come alive, bustling with noise—he could only hear the voices, not see the people. After a moment of shock, the doctor was speechless. He already knew the owner's shop had valuable items, but he hadn't expected so many antiques to be so ancient. According to that broken plate, the talking artifacts here were at least a thousand years old! There were so many!
This is just the storefront; there's also the inner room, which outsiders rarely get to enter... The doctor suddenly felt that the broken plate's comment about "a little thing that's three or four hundred years old" wasn't an exaggeration.

"Young man, is what you said true?" After an unknown amount of time, the shop returned to calm, and the representative of Boshan Incense Burner asked.

"It's true, I even lit incense for you yesterday..." The doctor suddenly felt that this dream was far too bizarre. It must be because he woke up the wrong way...

"Ah! It's that cheap Indian incense you lit in my belly! It's suffocating this incense burner!" The Boshan Incense Burner suddenly became agitated, and the smoke it spewed out was like a volcanic eruption.

"It's alright... I just happened to be passing by a fragrance shop and they gave it to me as a gift... I even took a look, and it's a type of sandalwood," the doctor explained cautiously. He had specifically asked the owner, and the owner hadn't said anything against it when he ordered it!
"Do you know what kind of incense the boss usually burns? It's Qinan incense! The top-grade agarwood! Only emperors could afford Qinan incense! In the Han Dynasty, it was even said to have the power to bring the dead back to life! In the Song Dynasty, a piece of Champa Qinan incense was already worth 'ten thousand gold pieces'! How dare your cheap incense catch my eye? It's suffocating me!" Boshan Incense Burner transformed into a roaring emperor, and for a moment the echoes reverberated throughout the shop, leaving the doctor dizzy from the roar. "Brother Boshan, that's not the point right now." The roaring emperor's outburst was unbearable for everyone, and Linglong quickly interjected, "Are you the doctor who's been coming to the shop a lot lately? The reincarnation of Fusu?"

"Hmm, it seems the person you're talking about is me." Hearing that he was someone's reincarnation made the doctor feel a little uncomfortable. However, he couldn't deny it, after all, these antiques had been with the boss for so many years, and had definitely seen and heard a lot.

"This is bad. The person who delivered the Nine Dragons Cup said that you fell into a coma. It seems there's something wrong with the cup." Linglong's tone grew increasingly serious.

"Something's wrong?" The doctor was startled, recalling the strange man who had appeared in the hospital earlier. Wasn't he holding a cup? Was he not dreaming, but had he really turned into a cup?
"Just as people can be good or bad, so too can objects." The Boshan furnace's temper had softened somewhat, its smoke becoming much calmer. It seemed that he and Linglong were the most senior here, so no one interrupted them while they spoke. "Some objects are inherently made to pray to the heavens, such as ritual vessels used in sacrifices. Therefore, these objects embody the craftsman's devout efforts, imbued with spirituality from the moment they are created, and easily condense into spirits. Many ancient tales of the strange and supernatural believe that the spirits appearing are mountain and wild monsters, but a large portion are also the spirits of objects. There's another type of object that easily condenses into spirits; they are inherently made for cursing and vengeful purposes. For example, Chen Ajiao's witchcraft doll. Sigh, Yansheng still can't understand."

The wisps of smoke rising from the Boshan incense burner swirled forlornly in the air, appearing rather melancholy.

"Why bring up that good-for-nothing? He's been in seclusion for over two thousand years and still hasn't figured things out. He deserves to sacrifice his essence for a woman." Linglong said with a look of utter disappointment.

The doctor recalled the witchcraft doll they had mentioned. The doll, along with the Boshan incense burner and the Changxin Palace lantern, were all Han Dynasty antiques, having shared a long history and undoubtedly sharing a deep connection. "That witchcraft doll, wasn't it sent to a museum? It should be well taken care of!"

"Hmph! Museums? They're our graveyards. Who wants to go there? The antiques they keep are usually lifeless objects, devoid of spirit. Even worse, some were locked up while still conscious—it's like being imprisoned alive!" the boyish voice grumbled again, the celadon glaze gleaming blindingly under the lamplight. "I heard they even broke a Ge ware celadon sunflower-shaped plate the other day! That was my brother from the Song Dynasty! So pitiful, gone just like that, not even a intact body preserved. Waaah!"

The doctor was speechless. The incident had indeed caused quite a stir, and even he, who was usually oblivious to worldly affairs, had heard about it, so he was naturally quite moved.

"Ahem, let's get back to the main topic." Boshanlu coughed twice as he noticed the topic had strayed a bit. "This Nine Dragon Cup is a fine jade cup carved from Hetian jade. Jade has the effect of bringing good fortune and warding off evil. Since you are the reincarnation of Fusu, you must have been wearing that longevity lock since birth?"

"Yes, that's right." The doctor didn't know why Boshanlu brought this up; he had already placed the longevity lock, which had been broken in two, in the coffin in the Qinling Mausoleum.

“Ancient jade artifacts have the power to absorb people’s souls. That longevity lock once preserved Fusu’s fragmented soul before his death. It was only after you accidentally broke it that it was freed.” Boshanlu stopped there, drawing out his words without finishing them.

The doctor was taken aback and asked, "Are you saying that my soul was actually absorbed into this Nine Dragon Cup?"

“Exactly, I don’t know why this happened. People’s obsessions are usually stronger before they die, and they are more likely to attach themselves to jade artifacts. You are a living soul, and your body is fine. Could it be that someone did something to it?” Boshanlu was completely puzzled.

"So that means this cup has to break for me to be free?" The doctor began to worry. In the Silent Shop, would the owner accidentally break anything? That was impossible! "Not only that, only ancient jade artifacts can preserve the soul for a long time. This Nine Dragon Cup isn't a jade artifact that's only three or four hundred years old. I think it can only keep your soul alive for seven days at most," Linglong said with a hint of regret.

Regret? Regret my foot! He's not dead yet!

The doctor started to get angry. He wanted the cup to break within seven days, while he was completely immobile. That was simply a pipe dream!
The doctor had been trapped in the Kowloon Cup for four days and four nights, unable to move. He had gone from being terrified to numb, because he had tried countless methods, but none of them could attract the boss's attention or make the Kowloon Cup move even a fraction of an inch.

Perhaps this was his fate; perhaps he should have died long ago.
The doctor fell completely silent, listening listlessly to the conversations of the antiques in the shop. The antiques had all lived for over a thousand years and were accustomed to the life and death of people, so they didn't take the doctor's predicament of being trapped in the Nine Dragon Cup too seriously.

"Young man, it's alright. A person's life is over in the blink of an eye. Simple!" The Boshan furnace emitted wisps of smoke as it spoke a popular saying it had heard from somewhere.

"It's alright if you die, we should move to a new place. Tsk, but Fusu's reincarnation won't die young anymore, I wonder if the boss will continue the search!" Linglong said bluntly, her words dancing in the candlelight, without considering the doctor's feelings at all.

The doctor knew these antiques weren't capable of the subtleties of human interaction, and Linglong's bluntness only made him feel uncomfortable. Not wanting to discuss his own affairs, he changed the subject, asking, "Does the boss move around a lot?"

“Yeah, staying in one place for a long time, and with the boss’s appearance not changing, will arouse suspicion, okay?” Linglong snorted. “But the old days were better. As long as you moved to a different place, no one would recognize you. Now that the internet is so advanced, even if you hide deep in the mountains, it’s easy for people to find out.”

"The lesser hermit lives in the mountains, the greater hermit lives in the city." Boshanlu chuckled. "The boss is doing very well now."

Indeed, in this commercial street, such an inconspicuous shop would hardly attract attention. The doctor knew that the mute shop had always had very few customers, but he thought that the owner had only moved here three years ago, so he could infer that he had been moving more and more frequently in recent years, which showed that his situation was not good.

Thinking of this, the doctor sighed. He was barely able to take care of himself, so why was he worrying about others?

As usual, the three bluebirds flew out at eight o'clock in the morning and landed on the rosewood shelf. They drank some dew that the owner had specially collected for them early in the morning and ate fresh bamboo shoots.

The vet looked somewhat apologetic. He was the one who initially said he would keep Sanqing, but he only remembered to feed and water it for the first few months. After the New Year, the hospital became busy, and he couldn't take care of it anymore. Fortunately, the owner was looking after it. The vet kept a close eye on Sanqing, watching it happily eat bamboo shoots, the crisp sound echoing in the shop. For some reason, he felt a little hungry.

He hadn't slept or drunk anything for several days. Although he didn't feel hungry or thirsty, after living for twenty-five years, he was used to eating and drinking from time to time. He hadn't even moved an inch in the past four days, which made it somewhat unbearable for him.

"Sanqing. Sanqing?" The doctor couldn't help but call out the name of the Three Bluebird. He didn't know if it was his imagination or if he really saw a miracle happen in his expectations, but the Three Bluebird stopped eating as soon as he finished speaking and tilted its head to look around.

The doctor was immediately excited, as if he had seen a ray of light in the darkness, and called out the name of the Three Bluebirds repeatedly. The Three Bluebirds seemed to have heard him, and abandoned the bamboo shoot they were eating, spread their wings, and began to fly around the shop.

Of course, along with the dust kicked up by the wings, there was also a series of shouts and cries from the antiques.

"Hey! What's wrong with this damn bird?! The boss just cleaned me up!" The boyish-voiced celadon plate cried out in exasperation. "Careful! Careful! Don't touch me! I'm so delicate!"

"Sanqing, be careful! Didn't the boss strictly forbid you from flying around? Be careful not to get kicked out!" This slightly concerned tone came from a gilded lacquer box with a hundred birds paying homage to the phoenix on the nearby display cabinet.

"Sanqing can't hear us, and you new guy, Jiulongbei, stop yelling!" The Huzhou wolf-hair brush on the bamboo tube laughter stand mercilessly shattered the doctor's remaining hope.

The shop was small, and although the Three Bluebird wasn't large, its wingspan and long tail feathers made it difficult for it to move around inside. The owner was quickly alerted, came out from the back room, called the Three Bluebird back, and brought it inside.

The doctor was disappointed; he had been hoping that the Three Bluebirds would come to his rescue! If they had accidentally knocked him to the ground, he would have been free. However, he hadn't expected the Three Bluebirds to cause such a commotion, almost damaging the antiques in the shop, and he apologized repeatedly.

The antiques were just exaggerating; their lives were simply too dull. Besides, hadn't they all weathered centuries of storms and seen countless ups and downs? This little incident was nothing to them! So no one took it seriously and went back to their own business. The doctor was already fed up with the sighing King Yue's Golden Seal recounting his past, tired of the pedantic scholar spouting off about the Huzhou wolf-hair brush, and weary of the gossip about the various girlish affairs of the Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix lacquer box. Let him go. He's too uncomfortable with this kind of life!

Moreover, after giving him hope, they cruelly shattered it. The doctor felt that his heart could not withstand such torment, even though, strictly speaking, he no longer had a heart.

"Ah! The Emperor! The Emperor is here!" Just as he was feeling utterly bored, the celadon porcelain plate beside him suddenly became excited, as if it had been injected with chicken blood. The doctor knew that this fixed time meant that arrogant painter was coming to the Silent House to copy the scroll; he came every day, almost without fail, rain or shine.

The doctor also knew that the painter's past life was Emperor Huizong of Song, Yue Ji, and that this celadon porcelain plate always looked inexplicably excited whenever the painter came. Today, he finally couldn't help but ask, "Yingqing, how did you recognize him as your emperor?" Yingqing was the name of this young porcelain plate, and celadon glaze was also known as Yingqing glaze, so everyone called him Yingqing.

Yingqing watched the painter walk into the inner room until he was out of sight, then reluctantly turned her gaze away. "Of course I recognize him. His appearance is still the same as it was back then. It's just that I was just an ordinary plate back then, and I only saw him once from afar. It was a court festival! The Emperor is truly invincible, thunderous, and mighty!"

"Majestic?" The doctor was momentarily speechless. He couldn't believe the painter's small frame matched the word "majestic." Had he mistaken him for someone else? But Ying Qing was from the Song Dynasty, indeed from the same era as Emperor Huizong. However, the doctor suddenly thought of something and asked in surprise, "You mean, Emperor Huizong reincarnated, and looks exactly like him?"

"What's the big deal? Actually, not everyone can be reincarnated. Only souls with deep-seated attachments before death can be reincarnated with a slight trace of their previous life's attachments. And their appearance after reincarnation is usually the same as before." Ying Qing knew that the doctor wasn't a true ancient artifact's cultivated essence and was completely ignorant of these common-sense things.

The doctor suddenly realized that the stories in the book about seemingly having met in a past life were actually based on something. However, he still felt something was off. "Why wouldn't Fusu's reincarnation be like that? I remember the boss saying that Fugong was also reincarnated as a woman!" The doctor would never forget the mental stampede he experienced upon hearing this news. But after separating Fusu and himself into two separate individuals, it didn't feel so awkward. After all, reincarnation as a man or a woman has a fifty percent probability, which was normal for someone in the medical field like him. But in the stories he'd heard at the Silent Shop, he'd never heard of Xiang Yu, the Hegemon-King of Western Chu, being reincarnated as a delicate young woman!
"That's because of Fu Gong. A part of your soul is imprisoned in the Longevity Lock, and it has never been completely intact," Ying Qing explained patiently. Because he was considered one of the younger ones in the Silent House, few people asked him for advice, so he talked a lot when he was happy, regardless of whether the doctor wanted to listen or not, and started to gossip.

The doctor was also bored, so he treated it as a stand-up comedy routine, and besides, Yingqing's boyish voice was soft and pleasant to listen to. As he listened, he saw the owner come out from the inner room, wipe the antiques in the shop again, open the cabinet door, and pick out a set of purple clay teaware to brew tea.

The doctor knew that the boss's daily tea consumption was irregular, and the teaware he used varied as well, but he still couldn't get used to it. Those piles of expensive porcelain and pottery were like concubines, begging for the boss's favor while simultaneously fighting tooth and nail for his attention.
Even though he knew his boss couldn't hear him, the doctor still felt despair for this chaotic world.
This isn't a silent shop at all! Every single antique here can talk!
It was already the evening of the sixth day, and the doctor had resigned himself to his fate.

The three bluebirds were probably locked in an inner room by the owner because of the trouble they caused last time. The owner would bring them clean water and bamboo shoots every day, and they never came out again.

The antiques, having long been accustomed to the passing of life over the millennia, were all busy with their own affairs, except for Yingqing, who seemed somewhat melancholy after developing feelings for the doctor. Although the doctor hadn't lived enough, he had witnessed countless deaths in the hospital, and his current situation was akin to being told he had a serious illness and being sentenced to death.

At first, I felt resentment, but I became numb to it. What can I do? He's had such a miserable life!

But deep down, a sliver of hope lingered. He inexplicably trusted that his boss would save him.

"Huh? The boss actually took out a jar of wine? That's rare! He's drinking wine instead of tea today?" A commotion broke out in the Silent Shop. The doctor looked over and saw the boss carrying a small jar, walking towards him.

"Oh! Drinking requires a Nine Dragon Cup, boss, are you sure you didn't do it on purpose?" The antique dealers around him stirred up trouble as if they didn't want the world to be in chaos. The doctor swore he saw a fleeting smile on the boss's lips.

Didn't they say he couldn't hear?
Before the doctor could react, he found himself being lifted up by a cold hand. The surrounding laughter grew louder and louder. The doctor felt extremely uncomfortable. Although he knew these antiques were lonely and had grown mold, he didn't want them to gather around and stare at him!
Well, in this situation, I can't stop them from watching.
The doctor felt himself being held in the boss's hand, being carefully wiped with a soft cloth. The pressure was just right, just enough to remove the dust from his body. Only then did he realize that the boss had been wiping the antiques in the shop every day for the past six days, but had overlooked him!

In other words, the boss actually knows something!
The doctor felt a renewed sense of hope and stared intently at the boss's face, which was so close to his own, hoping to glean some clue. But the boss still wore the same faint smile he always had on his face, unchanged.

The clear, amber-like liquid was poured into the Kowloon Cup, and the aroma of the wine immediately filled the Silent Shop.

"Ah! This is the Autumn White Dew of Hangzhou, preserved for over a thousand years! I really want to drink it!" The delicate candlelight flickered.

The doctor thought to himself, "How can someone like her drink alcohol? If you poured that kind of alcohol on her, she would have just set herself on fire!"
Listening to the clamor of the antiques around him, the doctor felt as if his entire body was immersed in highly concentrated liquor, as if he were drunk, and his consciousness gradually drifted away.

As the boss picked up the Kowloon Cup, his handsome face drew closer and closer. Hey! Is it really okay to use him like a cup?
The doctor didn't make it to the very end; he was plunged into darkness.

The inpatient ward was as quiet as it is on weekdays at night.

Holding the Kowloon Cup, the boss bypassed the nurse on duty and walked straight towards a ward as if he knew the way well.

The ward door opened easily, revealing the doctor fast asleep on the bed. Only a small bedside lamp illuminated the room, casting a dim light on the sleeping doctor and adding to the eerie atmosphere.

The boss only glanced at the other person before looking towards the corner of the ward and said indifferently, "I've given you seven days. Now you should give up."

From the shadows of a dark corner emerged a man in a hooded sweatshirt, his face obscured by the hood, only a few strands of long, silvery-white hair cascading down with his movements. "He is my imperial brother. Where have you hidden him?" Hu Hai's voice was tinged with an unyielding weariness. He had planned meticulously; once he sealed the soul memories belonging to this modern man, his imperial brother's soul should have taken over this body. But he waited seven days, and nothing came.

The only explanation is that this person is not his elder brother, but if he is not, how could the boss be so close to him?
No, he didn't believe it.

The boss laughed, but this time his smile carried an unyielding tenderness. "He is not your imperial brother, he is not Fusu."

Hu Hai was stunned by the firmness in the shopkeeper's words. Could it be that he had mistaken the person for someone else? But the shopkeeper couldn't help but get close to his elder brother's reincarnation! Had the shopkeeper been using a smokescreen all along? But the person who frequently visited the Silent Shop and received special treatment from the shopkeeper—could it be the same person who delivered the blank stele?

Thinking this through, Hu Hai felt there was no point in staying any longer. He walked toward the ward door, and as he brushed past his boss, he paused for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't. Instead, he quickened his pace and left.

The boss listened to the footsteps in the corridor gradually fade away before walking towards the hospital bed. The doctor had been asleep for seven days, and his complexion was extremely pale. The boss helped him sit up and brought the Nine Dragons Cup to his lips.

The dew from the Nine Dragon Cup was slowly fed into the doctor's mouth. The shopkeeper watched as the bloodstain on the cup disappeared and smiled with satisfaction. But the smile vanished instantly, and he turned to look coldly at the dark corner where Hu Hai had just stood.

A small red bird emerged unsteadily from the shadows, exchanged a nervous glance with the owner, and then, startled, spread its wings and flew out the window.

Ugh! My owner is so mean! They left without waking me up! Why is this person so mean? I didn't see anything! Ugh!

When the doctor woke up again, he found himself in the hospital.

Hospital leaders and colleagues came and gave him a comprehensive physical examination, but they still couldn't find out why he had been in a coma for seven days. The hospital assumed it was due to the heavy workload and granted him seven days of paid leave.

The doctor knew, of course, why he was in a coma, but he couldn't say! If he did, he might not only lose his job, but he would also be sent to a mental hospital.

"Boss, you're not just kidding me when you say you can't hear these antiques, are you?" The doctor began his seven-day vacation, but decided not to go anywhere. Staying at the Silent Inn was fine; why bother squeezing onto trains or planes to travel? He was actually quite a homebody! His boss was even more of a homebody.

The shopkeeper brewed a pot of Tieguanyin tea in a Ge kiln teapot, and upon hearing this, smiled and said, "Antiques can talk? You must be dreaming."

The doctor pursed his lips, unsure whether the owner was being evasive or telling the truth. After waking up, he naturally couldn't hear the incessant chatter of the antiques anymore, but even without hearing them, he could still sense something amiss in the Silent Chamber. "Look, let me tell you! This Boshan incense burner is picky about the low-grade incense I used for it, and those two Changxin Palace lanterns are sisters—the one on the left is lively, the one on the right is quiet. Look, look! How fiercely the flame on the left flickers!"

"That's because that spot is a crack in the door, and when the wind blows through, the candlelight naturally flickers violently," the shopkeeper said with a helpless smile.

The doctor was speechless. Could it all really have been a dream? But wasn't it a little too real? When did his imagination become so vivid?

He habitually picked up his cup to drink tea, but then the doctor suddenly thought of those shameless cups that groveled for the boss's favor, and realized that the one in his hand was one of them.
"What? You don't like Tieguanyin tea?" The shopkeeper asked, puzzled, seeing the doctor holding the cup with a strange expression.

The doctor put down the cup, forcing a smile, and said, "I'm afraid I'll slip and break this antique. I'll go to the supermarket and buy some disposable paper cups." Although he wasn't sure if he was dreaming, a unease had set in; he could no longer look at the room full of antiques with normal eyes.
The shopkeeper chuckled and said, "If you're not used to this, you can use that Nine Dragon Cup."

The doctor followed his gaze and saw the Nine Dragon Cup, placed on the treasure pavilion, in the same spot it had been during those seven days.

(End of this chapter)