Chapter 4: An Ancient Jade

“The great treasure ships that Zheng He sailed to the Western Seas centuries ago were just like this one! Building such a grand vessel would have required at least three years’ taxes from an entire province…” I slowly added, my voice calm.

Hearing my words, the slight furrow in Xueya’s brow eased away entirely. An irrepressible excitement glimmered across her face. “You truly are a man who understands, Lord Jiang. Since we’re speaking openly, let me be direct as well. My salvage team has discovered a ship just like this, in a certain stretch of the Yangtze River…”

She paused mid-sentence, her luminous dark eyes fixed on me. In Xueya’s gaze was a mysterious quality that was hard to define. Pale-skinned and exquisitely featured, with a presence that drew the eye, her lively eyes seemed as though they could see straight through a person’s soul.

“Hive Company is no ordinary operation. For you, raising a sunken ship from the riverbed would be as easy as Zhang Fei eating bean sprouts—a trivial task. Why invite the two of us in, just to split the spoils?” I asked quietly.

Xueya gave a helpless little smile. “To tell you the truth, Lord Jiang, I’ve already sent three salvage teams down to the river for this wreck. Every single person who went under vanished without a trace, as though they’d sunk into the sea itself. No word, no sign, their fates unknown.”

Wang Yueban’s small eyes gleamed mischievously at this, darting about as he grinned. “Miss Xueya, you really came to the right pair! Lord Jiang and I, we’re old hands at this. We could do it with our eyes closed!”

I coughed several times, cutting him off. Turning to Xueya, I said, “Miss Xueya, I’m sorry. This isn’t something the two of us can do. Truly, my apologies.”

I shot Wang Yueban a look. “Yueban, stop eating. We’re leaving.”

Wang Yueban had just fished a slice of lamb from the hotpot and was about to pop it in his mouth. Seeing me rise to leave, he panicked and swallowed the whole piece in one go. It was still scalding hot from the pot, of course. He couldn’t help himself—mouth agape, he spat the lamb out with a “pfft,” and it landed right back in the bubbling broth.

“Oh—my—just a mistake! Purely an accident! So sorry, really sorry…” Wang Yueban apologized profusely, grimacing at the burn.

Xueya merely glanced at him and smiled gently, unruffled. Her attention returned to me. “Don’t rush off just yet, Lord Jiang. Let me show you something. If you still wish to leave after seeing it, I won’t stop you.”

With that, Xueya brought her slender, elegant hands to the back of her snow-white neck, and with a magician’s flourish, presented her hands before me.

They slowly opened to reveal an ancient jade pendant. Under the room’s lamplight, it radiated a delicate, lustrous glow.

I’ve seen countless jades since childhood, in all shapes and sizes, but this one—so smooth and warm—was truly a rarity.

But what struck me most was how familiar it seemed. The more I looked, the more it tugged at my memory. Unconsciously, I reached for the jade hanging at my own throat.

Wang Yueban stared at us in amazement, his voice timid. “Lord Jiang, how come you both have the exact same jade? What’s going on here?”

“Where did you get that piece?” I couldn’t help but ask Xueya, my voice sharp with surprise.

Her expression grew grave, and I saw tears glimmer in those dark eyes. Her voice trembled. “Lord Jiang, I didn’t seek you out just to raise the sunken ship… There are many things we must face together.”

My mind was in turmoil. Forcing myself to remain calm, I looked at Xueya and said, word by word, “Very well. I… agree… to… help… you.”

Wang Yueban, seeing my sudden change of heart, was utterly bewildered. He glanced between us, lost. “You both have the same jade pendant… Could it be you’re husband and wife?”

Before he finished, a rush of color flooded Xueya’s cheeks, turning them as red as ripe apples.

The Yangtze River springs from the Roof of the World, the Tanggula Mountains on the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau. It is the third-longest river in the world, the longest in Asia, and for five thousand years, its waters have nourished the brilliant civilization of China.

Countless people, ships, and treasures have sunk to its depths, swallowed forever by the current and the silt below, never to see daylight again.

It’s no exaggeration to say that the riverbed of the Yangtze is a vast treasury, within which lie innumerable smaller hoards and secrets.

In preparing to recover this Ming Dynasty treasure ship, Xueya’s team had crafted a meticulous plan—flawless in its coordination of people and resources.

Wang Yueban and I spent three days eating and resting, gathering our strength. On the fourth morning, we climbed into Xueya’s car.

The convoy consisted of five off-road vehicles, each assigned its own task—one for provisions, one for equipment, and so on.

To avoid attracting attention, Xueya instructed that the cars travel spaced far apart, dispersing their presence.

We sped down the highway all day, only stopping as dusk fell.

Climbing out, I realized we’d halted in front of a country inn—a rustic farmhouse restaurant, really, set in a remote mountain village.

A large wooden sign stood at the entrance, the words “Farmhouse Delight” painted in crooked red characters, with several lines of smaller, equally crooked writing beneath.

In the dim light, I moved closer and made out the menu: braised carp, spicy fried chicken, roasted wild rabbit, wild greens salad…

After a whole day on the road, everyone was ravenous. Especially Wang Yueban, who hopped out of the car like a hound, nose twitching as he sniffed the air heavily, nearly drooling at the rich aroma of roasting meat that filled the evening.