The wedding was livestreamed by the sister, revealing his identity as a Taoist priest.

The headquarters of Xingyao Live Streaming Platform in Beijing's CBD.

The red warning lights overhead were flashing wildly, and the technical department was in complete chaos, like a vegetable market.

Fatty Liu, with his round beer belly, stood in front of the control panel.

He ripped off his tie and spat on Old Li's face.

"What am I doing raising you bunch of good-for-nothings?!"

"After the last Yellow River God Consecration live broadcast, didn't I repeatedly remind you of this?"

"Did you ask me to immediately upgrade Chen Xiaoyu's live stream privileges to the highest level?!"

"You guys are fucking ignoring what I said, aren't you?!"

"The entire site is black right now, and my phone has been ringing off the hook with calls from investors!"

Old Li sat in front of the computer, his ten fingers leaving afterimages on the keyboard.

His face was covered in bitter sweat, and he didn't even bother to wipe it off.

"Mr. Liu, it's really not our fault!"

Old Li's voice was trembling with tears.

"We've already set up three dedicated lines for Chen Xiaoyu's live stream."

"The permissions are directly equivalent to those for the Spring Festival Gala broadcast; even the backup root server has been sacrificed!"

"I thought I was well-prepared, but who knew these netizens would go completely mad!"

Xiao Zhang gulped down a mouthful of water, his hands shaking so badly he couldn't even hold the thermos.

"Mr. Liu, please check the backend data yourself!"

Xiao Zhang pointed to the data monitoring screen next to him.

"Fifty million! A full fifty million real IP addresses flooded in simultaneously!"

"And it's increasing at a rate of hundreds of thousands per second!"

"This isn't just watching a live stream, it's like netizens from all over the country are crowding into our servers!"

"Don't even mention us, even Tencent's servers next door are going to be taken down today!"

"Our little dilapidated temple is no match for this enormous Buddha!"

Fatty Liu felt a chill run down his spine as he stared at the vertically upward-pointing red data line on the screen.

He slammed the folder he was holding onto the table.

"I don't care what method you use! Restore it to its original state right now!"

"Cut off all the bandwidth from the gaming section, the beauty section, and the e-commerce section!"

"Dedicate all server resources, absolutely, 100%, to Chen Xiaoyu!"

"If we can't fix this today, we're all packing our bags and getting the hell out of here to farm!"

Everyone in the tech department was on fire, frantically typing away on their keyboards.

For a time, the top streamers in other sections of the Xingyao platform were singing, dancing, and selling goods.

Suddenly the screen went black, and I was forcibly disconnected by the official platform.

All the computing power and bandwidth, like rivers flowing into the sea, surged wildly into that special live broadcast room numbered "001".

Time passed second by second.

The only sound in the entire large apartment was the clatter of keyboards.

Ten minutes later.

Old Li slammed down the Enter key, then collapsed into his gaming chair, panting heavily.

"Mr. Liu, the backup root server number six is ​​running at full capacity, and the data distribution is complete."

"The scene has switched in!"

On the large screen, the black screen flickered twice.

The ancient bronze cauldron has finally reappeared in the picture.

The screen was instantly filled with comments like snowflakes.

Fatty Liu stared intently at the screen, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

"What the hell is this thing? How can it cause such a frenzy online?"

……

Tanzhe Temple, located in the western suburbs of the capital.

This ancient temple, with a history of over a thousand years, is hidden deep in the mountains and forests, and its incense is very popular.

The aroma of tea filled the air inside a meditation room that was not open to the public.

Chu Qingshan, the curator of the Imperial Capital Museum, was sitting cross-legged on a futon.

The old man was seventy-five years old this year, dressed in a plain Tang suit, with a refined and scholarly demeanor.

Sitting opposite him was Master Huiyuan, the abbot of Tanzhe Temple.

Between the two was a low table made of rosewood, on which sat a set of purple clay teaware.

"The Venerable Master Huiyuan"

"Next month, the National Museum of China will host a special exhibition of ancient Chinese ritual artifacts, which is of extremely high standard."

"The higher-ups attach great importance to this and specifically requested several national treasures that can command respect."

"Could I borrow your temple's prized possession, that golden alms bowl from the Tang Dynasty, for a few days?"

Master Huiyuan's eyelids were half-closed, and he was turning a string of Bodhi prayer beads in his hand.

Upon hearing this, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, revealing a mysterious smile.

"Amitabha."

"Benefactor Chu, that purple-gold alms bowl is a sacred object of our Buddhist sect, imbued with a thousand years of incense offerings."

"How can it be moved at will, lest it be tainted by worldly noise?"

"Besides, your National Museum has so many good things, why bother with the items in this old monk's dilapidated temple?"

Chu Qingshan put down his teacup and snorted coldly.

"You old bald monk, don't try to play games with me."

"The National Museum has a lot of artifacts, but when it comes to Taoist and Buddhist ritual implements, who doesn't know the profound heritage of your Tanzhe Temple?"

"Just borrow it for half a month, I'll personally send a security convoy to pick you up."

"I guarantee you'll be returned to us completely intact, down to the last hair."

Master Huiyuan shook his head, and his fingers, which were moving the prayer beads, stopped.

"Benefactor Chu, it's not that this old monk is stingy."

"The use of ritual implements depends on fate. That purple-gold alms bowl has recently been suppressing its spiritual energy and is not suitable for receiving guests."

"You should try looking somewhere else."

"Bang!"

Before Master Huiyuan could finish speaking, the heavy wooden door of the meditation room was pushed open.

Chu Qingshan frowned, about to lose his temper.

Then he saw his beloved granddaughter, Chu Yao, rushing in in a great hurry.

Chu Yao is twenty-four years old, with bright eyes and white teeth, and a tall figure.

She is usually a treasure-hunting blogger with millions of followers online, and her main image is that of an intellectual, elegant, dignified and generous woman.

But at this moment, she was clutching a tablet computer tightly in her hand, panting heavily.

"No manners!"

Chu Qingshan put on a stern face, adopted the authority of an elder, and reprimanded him sternly.

"Can't you see I'm discussing serious matters with Master Huiyuan?"

"What kind of panicked behavior is this!"

"Have you forgotten everything I taught you about cultivating stillness?"

Chu Yao completely ignored her grandfather's scolding.

He rushed to the low table and slammed the tablet computer down in front of Chu Qingshan.

"Grandpa! Don't borrow that broken alms bowl!"

Chu Yao's voice became shrill and distorted, carrying an undisguised madness.

"Look at this!"

"Something terrible has happened!"

Chu Qingshan was startled by his granddaughter's appearance.

His granddaughter grew up surrounded by antiques with him since she was little; what rare treasures hasn't she seen?

Could something have happened to cause her to lose her composure like this? Could it be that the Forbidden City was robbed?

Chu Qingshan lowered his head unhappily and glanced at the tablet screen.

On the screen is a live stream.

In the center of the image is a huge bronze three-legged round ding.

Standing over three meters tall, the cauldron is covered in mottled bronze rust, exuding an ancient and wild aura.

There is a noticeable dent on the handle of the cauldron, as if it had been struck by lightning.

A water ripple pattern running east to west is carved on the belly of the cauldron, and the totem of the map of the Nine Provinces can be faintly seen on the three legs.

The moment Chu Qingshan's gaze fell on the screen, he seemed to be frozen in place.

He could no longer maintain the facade of authority and composure on his face.

His eyes widened, almost touching the screen.

His breathing stopped for a moment, and a strange "clucking" sound came from his throat.

"This...this totem..."

Chu Qingshan reached out his hands, wanting to touch the screen, but his hands trembled like a leaf.

"These lightning marks...this patina..."

Master Huiyuan, who was sitting opposite him, also noticed that something was wrong.

He put down the prayer beads and peeked inside.

"Benefactor Chu, it's just a bronze artifact, why make such a fuss?"

Chu Yao turned her head, looked at Master Huiyuan, and swallowed.

"Master, this is no ordinary bronze artifact."

"Both old men, Zhou Dechang and Ji Jingshan, were present."

"They've already taken a look themselves."

He suddenly raised his head and gripped Chu Yao's arm tightly.

"Yaoyao! Tell me! Where is this!"

"What is this thing called?!"

Seeing her grandfather's red eyes, Chu Yao quickly spoke up.

"In Jiangcheng, at the Peninsula Hotel."

"Grandpa Zhou said that this thing was left behind by Yu the Great when he controlled the floods."

"One of the Nine Tripods, the Yongzhou Tripod!"