Chapter 62: Modifying the Fate of Historical Artifacts from Afar

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Outside the window, the sunlight is bright and the sky is a clear blue.

Lin Xuan woke up driven by his biological clock.

He washed up and walked toward the kitchen.

He fried two eggs and heated two cups of milk.

Carrying his breakfast to the dining room, he casually picked up the Mobile Phone lying on the table.

The screen lit up.

A bold, red news notification dominated the headline of the lock screen.

"Headline News: Major Archaeological Breakthrough!"

"An unexpected collapse in an outer burial pit surrounding Shaanxi's Tang Zhaoling has revealed a secret stele from the early Tang Dynasty during emergency excavation!"

Lin Xuan casually swiped to unlock and tapped into the news details.

He treated it as a routine archaeological excavation and paid it no mind.

He took a sip of milk and his gaze swept downward.

"According to the latest report from the Shaanxi Cultural Relics Bureau."

"Heavy rain last night caused the soil in a hidden burial pit surrounding Zhaoling to loosen and collapse."

"The archaeological team conducted emergency excavation overnight."

"The tomb pit is extremely small with a unique structure; no gold or silver burial goods were found, nor was the authentic manuscript of the 'Lanting Preface' mentioned in historical records."

Lin Xuan swallowed his milk.

Not finding the Lanting Preface is common knowledge.

He continued reading downward.

"However, in the center of the tomb pit, a well-preserved green stone stele was unearthed."

The news included a high-definition image.

The surface of the stone stele was covered in mud.

The early Tang regular script carved upon it was clear and legible.

Lin Xuan's gaze fell on the image, and his pupils suddenly contracted.

Below the image was an interpretation by archaeological experts.

"The inscription was personally written by Tang Taizong Li Shimin."

"The content is extremely abnormal, completely overturning the historical community's understanding of the early Tang imperial burial system."

"The inscription contains only fourteen characters: Culture belongs to all people under heaven; treasures shall forever remain in the Hongwen Guan."

"Experts speculate that Emperor Taizong's thinking may have undergone a major transformation in his later years."

"Shifting from viewing treasures as private property to the advanced concept of cultural sharing."

"The discovery of this stele may rewrite the history of Tang culture."

Culture belongs to all people under heaven; treasures shall forever remain in the Hongwen Guan.

These fourteen characters reveal a reflection of modern universal values.

Lin Xuan raised his head, his gaze passing through the corridor to the half-open door of the secondary bedroom.

Xiao Sizi was hugging a plush teddy bear, rubbing her sleepy eyes as she walked out.

"Brother Lin Xuan, what's for breakfast?" she yawned, her voice soft and sweet.

Lin Xuan felt his breath cut off.

He looked at the four-and-a-half-year-old girl before him.

Last night, right in this room.

The girl, with tears falling, had asked, "Where did Aye go?"

With extremely severe wording, he had rebuked Li Shimin's selfishness and explained the meaning of modern Museums.

And this morning.

An archaeological news story that rewrote history emerged out of nowhere.

A stone stele bearing Li Shimin's own handwriting and inscribed with the modern concept of cultural sharing was dug out from the soil of fourteen hundred years ago.

This is not a coincidence.

Lin Xuan took a deep breath, a faint pain throbbing in his chest.

This is a true intersection of time and space.

This is a physical reality modification achieved through a mutual rush from both sides.

That lofty Emperor of the Great Tang, across the long river of fourteen hundred years, understood the questioning from future generations.

With a stone stele buried deep underground, he responded to Lin Xuan's anger and to the heartache of 1.4 billion people in later generations.

He forcibly twisted the wheels of history.

Smoothing out the unparalleled regret on the path of cultural inheritance.

An indescribable, extreme shock surged into his heart.

A few weeks passed in the blink of an eye.

The cool breeze of early autumn swept away the lingering heat of summer.

That stone stele, which broke through the soil a thousand years away, became a tacit understanding spanning time and space.

Lin Xuan put aside the shock from that night, and life returned to the simplicity of one meal and one vegetable.

Xiao Sizi had learned most of the Pinyin, and her copybooks were replaced batch after batch.

One late night.

Outside the window, the rain was torrential.

Wild winds whipped up water droplets, constantly battering the glass.

Lightning tore through the pitch-black clouds, illuminating half the sky.

On ordinary days, if such foul weather struck, Xiao Sizi would always clutch a pillow, barefoot, and burrow into Lin Xuan's master bedroom seeking safety.

Tonight, what shattered the silence was not the rolling thunder.

Thud.

A dull thud exploded in the master bedroom.

Lin Xuan curled in the narrow gap between the bed and the wardrobe, his hands tightly pressing his lower right abdomen.

Pain.

An extremely sharp, cramping agony pierced out from the depths of his abdominal cavity.

Acute suppurative appendicitis.

Plus acute gastric spasms triggered by catching a chill in early autumn.

Both ailments struck simultaneously.

Like a high-speed rotating iron meat grinder, violently churning within his intestines and stomach.

Lin Xuan clenched his teeth.

Fine beads of sweat seeped out in patches from his forehead.

He tried to withdraw his arm to fumble for the mobile phone lying nearby.

The moment his elbow exerted force, a far more violent spasm crashed down upon him.

His five fingers cramped and went limp.

His body arched backward uncontrollably, slamming heavily back onto the wooden floor.

The edges of his vision began to whiten; his breathing rhythm fell into total chaos.

Every inhalation carried the agony of tearing internal organs.

He lay on the ground, writhing in pain, his consciousness teetering on the brink of fainting.

Boom—!!!

A thunderclap roared.

In the adjacent secondary bedroom, Xiao Sizi was awakened by the thunder.

She rubbed her drowsy eyes, looked at the dazzling lightning outside the window, and instinctively felt fear.

Barefoot, clutching a half-person-tall plush teddy bear tightly to her chest, she ran toward the master bedroom.

"Brother Lin Xuan."

Her palm pushed open the slightly ajar door.

The dim yellow light of the corridor night lamp cast inside.

Xiao Sizi's steps froze instantly.

With the help of the night lamp and the afterglow of the lightning outside the window, she saw Lin Xuan lying on the ground.

The tall man who always patted her back to soothe her to sleep on stormy nights, and used his broad shoulders to shield her from all wind and rain.

At this moment, his face was as pale as gold paper.

His features twisted from enduring extreme pain.

His body convulsed violently on the cold floor.

Xiao Sizi's mind plunged into absolute blankness for several long seconds.

Great Tang, Taiji Palace.

Li Shimin was just holding Zhangsun Huanghou as they fell asleep.

The clamor of the night-guarding imperial soldiers outside the hall awakened the emperor.

Li Shimin threw on an outer robe, strode out the hall door, and looked up.

The gruesome scene under the faint light of the master bedroom crashed directly into his line of sight.

Zhangsun Huanghou followed closely, stepping over the threshold.

The instant her gaze touched the Sky Screen, she let out a short, startled cry.

Her legs went weak, and she nearly collapsed.

Two palace maids hurried forward to support her.

"What's wrong... what's wrong with Lin Xuan?" Zhangsun Huanghou's voice trembled as she tightly gripped the maids' arms.

He was the benefactor who protected her flesh and blood.

"Summon the Imperial Physicians! Summon Sun Simiao!" Li Shimin turned his head and roared at the Grand Eunuch Wang De below the steps.

Wang De lifted the hem of his robe and tumbled and crawled toward the Imperial Medical Bureau.

Li Shimin paced back and forth on the steps, his strides chaotic and disordered.

He stared at Lin Xuan's motion of clutching his abdomen in the Sky Screen, watching his pale complexion and the sight of him drenched in sweat.

That was no ordinary cold; it was an acute condition that could snatch a life at any moment.

Several veteran Imperial Physicians from the Imperial Medical Bureau, carrying medicine chests, arrived panting at the foot of the steps.

The Medicine King, Sun Simiao, clad in plain cloth robes, looked up at the Sky Screen, his gaze sweeping back and forth over Lin Xuan's vital signs.

"Divine Physician Sun, look quickly!"

"What acute illness does he suffer from? How must it be treated!"

Li Shimin grabbed Sun Simiao's sleeve.

Sun Simiao's brows knitted tight, his hand stroking his beard freezing in midair.

"Your Majesty. Observing the spot where he clutches his abdomen, the pain causes him to writhe, cold sweat pouring like rain. This is an acute outbreak of intestinal abscess!"

The old divine physician's tone was heavy, revealing the anxiety of a healer.

"Moreover, it is accompanied by signs of severely chaotic stomach qi. If this condition were in Chang'an, this old man would need to immediately administer large doses of rhubarb and Chinese goldthread to purge the heat, assisted by Silver Needle Piercing Acupoints to relieve pain, only then could life be saved."

"If half a shichen passes without medicine entering the body, the pain can kill!"

Li Shimin, having heard this, shook off Sun Simiao's sleeve.

"Then go write the prescription! Bring out your silver needles!"

Several Imperial Physicians lowered their heads.

Silently stepping back half a pace.

Sun Simiao set down the medicine box in his hand and straightened his robes and cap.

Facing the Sky Screen, he bowed deeply with a long salute.

The night wind lifted the old man's white hair.

"Your Majesty... this old man can write the prescription, but cannot deliver the medicine."

One sentence laid bare the secret of heaven.

Li Shimin froze in place.

Collect, read on anytime, anywhere: "Sickly Weak Xiao Sizi Knocks on the Door, I Became the God of Ten Thousand Dynasties."