Chapter 321: The Treasure of Prince Gong's Mansion

The clamor of storing winter cabbages and the bustle of every household have temporarily ceased, and the Siheyuan is once again shrouded in the silence of deep winter. The stove fire reflects on the windowsill; people curl into their blankets early, warding off the howling north wind outside.

However, for Li Ping'an, some secrets hidden beneath the dust of history have quietly surfaced in this utter stillness.

This clue came rather by chance.

A few days ago, he visited the Ghost Market again. Not for the already hoarded antiques, but more as a habit—a pleasure in seeking possibilities and testing his eyesight amid silence and chaos.

In front of a stall selling old books and odds and ends, he halted, his gaze sweeping over a pile of yellowed, brittle sheets. Most were useless old ledgers and outdated almanacs, but his Divine Perception twitched slightly, sensing an unusually heavy, somber aura.

He crouched, seemingly casually rummaging, and finally pulled from the broken papers an old book whose cover was missing, its thread‑binding in disarray, nearly falling apart.

The pages were of a special material, like silk and paper, unusually tough, allowing them to survive to this day. In tiny, dense script they recorded names and quantities of items, interspersed with obscure directional notes and symbols; unlike ordinary ledgers, they resembled… a secret record.

What caught his eye further was that one page repeatedly mentioned place names such as Cui Jin Garden, Di Hua Pavilion, Bat Pond, and some obscure entries about "interwall" and "underground chamber."

Combined with the heavy, somber historical aura and the ledger's faint hint of top‑tier bureaucratic extravagance and secrecy, a name struck Li Ping'an's mind like a flash of lightning—He Shen!

And the repeatedly mentioned locations in the ledger unmistakably pointed to one place—the Prince Gong Mansion! There lay the core of He Shen's Residence from those days!

His heart leapt. The legend of He Shen's Treasure has long circulated in Four Nine City, with countless rumors and uncertain truth. Could this seemingly insignificant tattered ledger be one of the keys to that massive treasure?

The discovery stirred the long‑dormant currents in his heart. Not merely for the potentially nation‑rivaling wealth, but for a fierce urge to uncover historical secrets, to test his own abilities, and an instinct rooted deep in his soul to amass foundations for the future.

He kept it quiet, paid a trivial few coins, and slipped the "secret record" into his chest as if carrying a glowing ember.

In the days that followed, his outward life remained normal—work, home, teaching his son, accompanying his wife and daughter. In secret, however, he used every spare moment to study the secret record, cross‑referencing it with his mental map of the Prince Gong Mansion's layout (a vague impression from a past visit blended with present hearsay), repeatedly dissecting the obscure symbols and directional notes.

Timing had to be cautious. Though the Prince Gong Mansion is no longer open to the public, relevant authorities now manage it, making it far from a place one can casually explore. He needed a foolproof opportunity.

The chance arrived on a moonless, wind‑howling night with a biting north wind. Such weather even reduces the time patrols linger outside.

At midnight, the Siheyuan was utterly silent. Li Ping'an, like a shadow merging with the night, slipped silently over the courtyard wall, using the shadows of buildings and trees to creep toward the mansion that had accumulated countless secrets.

At this time, the Prince Gong Mansion no longer bore the bustling traffic and brilliant lights of its heyday. The towering walls, in the night, resembled a silent beast; the red lacquer peeled away, revealing a sense of faded grandeur and gloom.

He avoided the main gate where guards might be posted, choosing a relatively secluded corner; his body, agile as a raccoon, vaulted the high wall and dropped into the courtyard.

Ancient trees towered within the garden, branches clawing in the cold wind like ghostly silhouettes. The rockeries, pavilions, and water pavilions, under the hazy moon, were mere vague outlines, their stillness exuding a heart‑pounding pressure.

Li Ping'an did not act rashly; he held his breath, focused, and let his Divine Perception flow outward like liquid mercury, expanding slowly. Ten meters, fifty meters, a hundred meters… wherever his perception passed, each grass, each tree, each brick, even the insects hibernating in the soil, fed back clearly into his mind.

It was an exceedingly subtle yet mentally draining experience. He "saw" patrols wrapped in coats, hunching their necks, moving slowly along a fixed route under the wavering flashlight beams; he "heard" the wind sighing through the empty windows of the pavilions, like the wail of a wronged spirit.

Guided by the secret record, his Divine Perception focused on the areas around Cui Jin Garden, Di Hua Pavilion, and Bat Pond. It pierced the thick snow and frozen earth, carefully probing underground anomalies.

At first, there was no yield. Just as he began doubting the record's authenticity, or that the treasure had already been taken by predecessors, deep beneath a rockery near the rear tower, his Divine Perception brushed against something unusual!

It was a vast cavity, cleverly concealed! The feedback from his perception showed it was packed with items! A rich, time‑settled scent almost seeped through the soil—cold hardness of metal, warm luster of jade, fragrant resin of wood, crisp shine of porcelain… various aromas mingled, forming a massive, suffocating energy field!

Found it!

Li Ping'an's heart surged with joy, but he immediately forced it down. He carefully condensed his Divine Perception into a filament, like the finest surgical blade, and probed the cavity.

What he "saw" shocked him to the brink of fainting, even though he had mentally prepared.

Stacks of gold ingots and silver sycee piled like mountains, radiating dazzling light in his perception; countless treasures fashioned from jade, agate, coral, and pearls, glittering and brimming with spiritual aura; scroll after scroll of ancient paintings, piece after piece of porcelain—though he could not "see" their exact forms, the lingering brilliance of ages far surpassed everything he had obtained at the Ghost Market! There were also numerous rustic bronze vessels, exuding an even older, mysterious vibe!

This is a corner of He Shen's Treasure! Perhaps only the tip of his immense wealth, yet already astonishing!

No more hesitation! Long nights breed many dreams!

Li Ping'an inhaled deeply, gathered all his focus, and let his consciousness sink into the Spiritual Spring Space, locking onto the underground vault's location. An invisible, overwhelming suction suddenly surged, centered on him!

The process was not without risk. He felt his spiritual energy depleting rapidly, veins bulging on his forehead, cold sweat instantly soaking his undershirt.

Transporting such a massive, energy‑laden object was a first for him, a huge burden. He could even "feel" the ground tremble slightly, as some loose earth above the vault fluttered down.

Fortunately, the violent energy fluctuation and minor physical changes occurred deep underground at night, drawing no attention from the patrols above.

In a few breaths, the massive treasure that had slumbered for over a hundred years, along with its original underground boxes and wooden racks, was shifted wholly and intact into his wondrous Spiritual Spring Space, quietly placed on a vacant spot, accompanied by old jars, ancient books, livestock and fruit.

Having done all this, Li Ping'an felt a sudden, intense weakness, his vision darkening, nearly losing his footing. He dared not linger, forced a breath, and once again, like a specter, slipped over the Prince Gong Mansion's high wall along the same route, merging into the surrounding darkness.

Returning to Xi Kua Yuan, confirming his wife and children still slept, he immediately entered the Spiritual Spring Space. Gazing at the suddenly appearing, hill‑like treasure and inhaling the blend of metal, dust, and history, he finally was certain that tonight was no dream.

He did not rush to inventory it—that would be a massive undertaking. He simply stood quietly, feeling the impact of this sudden, world‑shaking wealth.

After the excitement came deeper composure. In this era, these items are absolute death warrants; they must never be known to a second person.

They will continue to slumber in the space until the winds of change blow, until the day they are needed to raise a tranquil sky for his family.

He exited the space, lay on the kang, listening to his wife's steady breathing, his heart gradually calming. Tonight's experience was thrilling, exhilarating, and bore the weight of potentially altering history's course.