I couldn't take it anymore; when I went home for Chinese New Year, the family genealogy book ha

"Clang!"

The buckle broke in two, and the metal fragments flew out, hitting the opposite stone wall with a clang.

Rust powder fell from the lid of the box, making Jiang Chen sneeze.

He tossed the broken clasp aside, gripped the edge of the lid with both hands, and forcefully pried it open.

The moment the lid was pushed open, the white light from the flashlight shone straight into the box.

A golden light reflected from the bottom of the box, dazzling Jiang Chen's eyes.

He subconsciously tilted the flashlight to a different angle and squinted to look into the box.

bullion.

Gold bars stacked neatly.

The top layer was covered with a layer of moisture-proof oil paper, which had turned yellow and become brittle, with the edges broken.

Jiang Chen reached out and carefully peeled off the oil paper. What was revealed underneath made him gasp.

Large yellow croaker.

Small yellow croaker.

They were stacked one by one, as neatly as bricks used to build a wall.

They stacked it up in three layers.

Each layer was lined with thick cotton cloth and tung oil paper to isolate moisture and air.

It is very well preserved. Although the surface of the gold bar is covered with a layer of dust, you can still see its heavy, dark gold luster by wiping it.

Jiang Chen casually picked up a large yellow croaker and weighed it in his hand.

weight.

It's much heavier than I imagined.

I almost lost my grip with one hand.

He turned it over and looked at the bottom, where a rectangular stamp was clearly imprinted.

"Central Mint".

There is also a line of smaller print next to it, which shows the year of casting and the weight.

1948. Ten taels.

"Wow!"

Jiang Chen was delighted and tossed the gold bar in his hand a couple of times.

"Great-grandfather, our family used to be wealthy landlords, right?"

He turned his head and grinned at the old man.

This thing would be an absolute hard currency nowadays.

Its collectible value far exceeds the price of gold itself.

During the Republic of China era, a single large yellow croaker in good condition could fetch an astronomical price at auction.

Not to mention that this box was stacked in three layers, with dozens of large yellow croakers alone.

The old man slowly walked over, glanced down at the gold bars in the box, and showed little expression on his face.

His calm and collected demeanor made it seem as if he were looking at a pile of ordinary farm tools.

"This was all earned by our ancestors with food and their lives when they fled famine."

The old man's voice was deep and resonant, each word spoken with great force.

"Some of it was accumulated little by little over generations by working as tenant farmers or long-term laborers for wealthy families. Some of it was obtained by our ancestors at the risk of losing their heads during the chaos of war in the Republic of China era, when they traded goods from warlords."

He reached out and touched the surface of the top gold bar.

Rough fingers glide across the cold metal, as if touching the face of an old friend.

"I haven't dared to move."

The old man withdrew his hand.

"I'm just afraid that one day the family will suffer a great calamity and we'll have to use it to save our lives."

Jiang Chen nodded and put the large yellow croaker back into the box.

He walked up to the second metal box, poked it with an iron rod, and the clasp snapped off.

Open the lid.

It's still gold bars.

But the gold bars in this box were smaller and more mixed than those in the first box. Large and small yellow croakers were stacked together, and some of the stamps on the surface were worn and illegible.

At the bottom were several small cloth bags. Jiang Chen picked one up and opened it to take a look—inside were pieces of gold, irregular little gold nuggets, as if they had been knocked off something.

The third box.

turn on.

It's gold bars again.

However, this box contained fewer items than the previous two, and the empty space was filled with several hard objects wrapped in cloth.

Jiang Chen opened a cloth bag and looked inside—it was a pair of jade bracelets, a deep, almost blackish green, with average translucency, but extremely old, with obvious staining on the jade.

The last box.

Jiang Chen pried open the buckle and lifted the cover.

This box contains a mixed bag of things.

The top layer is silver dollars.

There are various versions of Yuan Shikai silver dollars, including the "Boat Dollar" and the "Dragon Dollar".

They were bundled together in stacks of cotton cloth, with charcoal stuffed between the stacks to prevent moisture.

Beneath the silver dollars were some jewelry pieces.

A gold hairpin, silver earrings, a string of old amber beads, several jade cabochons, and a pair of cloisonné enamel bracelets.

The workmanship varies from rough to fine, and the pieces come from different eras.

It's clear that this wasn't collected all at once, but rather accumulated over generations.

Jiang Chen squatted in front of the box, the beam of his flashlight sweeping back and forth over the gold and silver jewelry.

He silently did some calculations in his mind.

The three boxes contained large and small yellow croakers, as well as gold fragments. Based on current gold prices, the gold alone is worth over 300 million yuan.

In addition, there's the premium for collecting these old gold bars from the Republic of China era, as well as the antique value of those silver coins and jewelry.

The total amount adds up to at least 500 million.

For Jiang Chen now, 500 million is not a large sum of money.

His offshore sovereign wealth fund accounts hold hundreds of billions.

But the significance of these boxes goes far beyond what money can measure.

This is the foundation of the Jiang family for hundreds of years.

It is a legacy accumulated by generations of people who risked their lives.

It is the material footnote to those words written in blood and tears on the wall.

Jiang Chen stood up and dusted off his hands, removing the dust and rust.

He tossed the large yellow croaker in his hand into the box, and the gold bars collided with each other with a dull thud.

"Great-Grandpa, what should we do with these things?"

He turned to look at the old man.

"Has it been sitting here getting moldy?"

The old man tapped his copper pipe, not in a hurry to answer.

He walked to the first box, bent down, and took out the smallest gold bar from the bottom. He twirled it in his hand twice and then put it back.

"I didn't dare to move it before because life was hard; this is something to save my life," the old man said slowly.

"Now..."

He looked up, about to continue speaking.

Suddenly, a series of hurried footsteps came from the stone steps leading to the secret chamber.

"Knock knock knock knock—"

The sound of the cane striking the stone steps was urgent and heavy, like someone frantically pounding a drum.

Immediately afterwards, an old yet stubborn voice came from the dark passage. The voice was amplified by the narrow passage and was filled with obvious panting and anger.

"Big brother! What are you guys up to down there?!"

Jiang Chen raised an eyebrow.

He knows that voice all too well.

The person who came was none other than my third grandfather, Jiang Wanhai.