Solving the case: Combining the police dog's olfactory genes at the beginning

This is the oldest piece of Daxia paper artifact, an absolute unique item, and a priceless treasure. After it was swindled away from the Mogao Caves in Dunhuang by Japanese scholars, generations of Daxia scholars searched for its whereabouts, but no one knew where it was.

Today it's lying in this godforsaken place, in this dilapidated museum whose name I've never even heard of.

Luo Fei was silent for two seconds, then punched the glass and put the Bodhisattva's Pregnancy Sutra into his space.

In the next few display cases, Wen Junjie identified the following items in turn: the Yao Bian Tianmu tea bowl—a masterpiece of Jian kiln black-glazed porcelain, with Yao Bian patterns flowing on the black glaze like a starry sky reflected on the bottom of the bowl; the Guanyin, monkey, and crane painting—a representative work of Muqi in the Southern Song Dynasty, in which Guanyin, monkey, and crane in ink painting form a Zen-like picture; and the red and white hibiscus painting—a flower and bird painting by Li Di in the Southern Song Dynasty, in which two red and white hibiscus bloom on silk, and the colors are still as fresh as ever after eight hundred years.

Each and every one of these items is a national treasure of the Great Xia Dynasty that has been lost abroad. Each and every one of these items is a unique piece that Wen Junjie has seen photos of repeatedly in textbooks but has never had the right to see the real thing in person.

Luo Fei smashed the glass with punch after punch, taking the cultural relics into the space one by one.

When Wen Junjie reached the ninth display case, he suddenly stopped in his tracks after seeing what was inside. His expression changed from excitement to shock, and from shock to a complex look of disbelief and fervor.

The display case contains a mother-of-pearl inlaid rosewood five-string pipa. The rosewood body is inlaid with exquisite flower and bird patterns, and although the five strings are loose, they are still intact on the surface of the instrument.

"A five-stringed pipa inlaid with mother-of-pearl and made of rosewood".

Wen Junjie's voice was almost hoarse as he spoke, "This is a Tang Dynasty artifact, the only authentic five-stringed pipa in the world. The five-stringed pipa was lost after the Tang Dynasty, and later pipas only had four strings, so this piece is an absolute one-of-a-kind."

It was originally housed in the Shosoin Repository of the Imperial Palace in Japan, an institution renowned as the world's oldest surviving wooden structure, where every item is a national treasure. How did this biwa end up here?

Luo Fei smashed the glass with a punch and took the pipa.

The tenth display case contains a landscape scroll, which is three or four meters long when unfolded horizontally. The painting depicts a vast expanse of water and sky, with distant mountains appearing and disappearing in the clouds. In the foreground, two people are sitting and drinking on a small boat.

Wen Junjie recognized the painting's name—"Xiao Xiang Wo You Tu" (Lying Down and Traveling in the Xiao and Xiang Rivers), painted by a painter from the Great Xia Dynasty during the Southern Song Dynasty. It was originally a treasured item in the Great Xia royal collection, but later ended up in Japan during the war. Luo Fei, without hesitation, took it out and put it into his spatial storage.

Wen Junjie stood in front of the tenth empty display case whose glass had been smashed by Luo Fei. He looked at the shiny shards of tempered glass scattered on the floor, then at Luo Fei's clean, bare hands. He took a deep breath and said to Luo Fei in a somewhat abnormal tone, "Brother, do you know how much these ten items you just took are worth in total?"

"do not know."

Luo Fei answered truthfully.

"I can't figure it out either."

Wen Junjie shook his head, "Because these things shouldn't be measured by money at all. They are the most exquisite cultural relics from different dynasties in the history of the Great Xia Dynasty, the spark of civilization, and the lifeblood left by our ancestors."

Any one of these items could fill a museum, and all ten together—Brother, you're not an agent from the National Security Bureau; you're here to help the Great Xia reclaim the souls that have been lost abroad.

As Luo Fei was about to walk forward, his peripheral vision suddenly caught sight of a standalone display case in the corner of the exhibition hall that was several times larger than the other display cases.

The display case was nearly ceiling-high and three or four meters wide, with thickened glass, at least one centimeter thick. The spotlights inside the case shone exceptionally brightly, illuminating everything inside with crystal clarity.

The item on display in the case is a knife.

To be precise, it's a giant sword. The blade is nearly two meters long, and the handle is about half the length of the sword, also close to one meter long. The blade is straight, single-edged, and the body is wide and thick, at least ten centimeters at its widest point.

The knife is a rustic black iron color, but under the spotlight, you can vaguely see very fine and dense forging patterns on the blade, like layers of water ripples spreading out.

The handle was wrapped with blackened hemp rope, and the end of the handle was inlaid with a bronze ring pommel, the surface of which was engraved with intricate cloud and thunder patterns.

Even through the thick glass, even just lying quietly in the display case, the aura emanating from this knife still made Luo Fei feel a sense of oppression.

It wasn't murderous intent or malevolent aura, but something much heavier, like a mountain pressing down on the ground, heavily dominating everyone's vision.

Wen Junjie walked to the display case, looked up at the giant sword, and froze as if his soul had left his body.

He slowly took off his glasses, wiped them vigorously on his clothes again and again, then put them back on and leaned closer to look at the small explanatory plaque at the bottom of the display case.

After reading it, his hands began to tremble uncontrollably, his lips quivered, and his voice sounded broken and intermittent, as if something was blocking his throat.

"This is impossible."

When Wen Junjie uttered those four words, his tone carried an almost absurd quality: "Brother, this is the Mo Dao. This is the Mo Dao that our Great Xia Dynasty has lost for over a thousand years."

Luo Fei's brow twitched slightly.

He had heard of the name "Mo Dao" before, but that was all—he had seen the term in a historical novel and knew it was a long-handled battle sword from the Tang Dynasty, known as "advancing like a wall, shattering both men and horses," and was the strongest weapon for infantry against cavalry in that era.

However, he has never seen a real Mo Dao in any museum or photographic record, because, as Wen Junjie said, this weapon was lost more than a thousand years ago.

"No physical examples of the Mo Dao have ever been discovered."

Wen Junjie spoke faster and faster, as if he wanted to pour out the shock that had been building up in his heart all at once. "The most elite Mo Dao troops of the Tang Dynasty used this kind of weapon. When the blade was drawn, it was like a wall, and both men and horses were shattered. The Mo Dao troops of the Tang Dynasty cut down Turkic cavalry, cut down Goguryeo armored soldiers, and cut down the combined army of the thirty-six kingdoms of the Western Regions."

After the An Lushan Rebellion, the forging technique of the Mo Dao was suddenly lost. Historical records of it throughout the ages are only written, without any physical objects, portraits, or archaeological discoveries to prove what this weapon actually looked like.

The archaeological community has debated this for over a century. Some say it is the precursor to the three-pointed double-edged sword, others say it is the same as the horse-slaying sword, and still others simply say that the Mo Dao is an exaggerated fabrication in historical records.

He paused, took a deep breath, and then pointed to the nearly two-meter-long giant sword in the glass display case, saying, "But it's right here now. Our Great Xia's lost Mo Dao (陌刀) sword, which was lost for over a thousand years, was hidden in this godforsaken place by the Japanese devils."

"Brother, this isn't an artifact, it's life." Luo Fei didn't waste any more words. He walked to the display case, clenched his right fist, and slammed it against the glass cover with more force than ever before.

"Bang—crack!"

The thickened tempered glass wasn't shattered by the first blow. Instead, a spiderweb-like white crack first appeared, spreading outwards from the point where Luo Fei's fist landed, before finally shattering completely with a "crash."

Broken glass cascaded down from the base of the display case, which was over a meter high, scattering across the floor. Luo Fei reached out and took the Mo Dao (a type of long-handled sword) from the display case. The weight of the blade made him involuntarily slump slightly as he held it.

It weighs forty or fifty pounds, maybe even more. This knife is heavier than any other cold weapon he has ever weighed before, and the center of gravity is entirely at the tip of the blade. When he holds it, he can clearly feel a forward-leaning inertia.

Luo Fei gripped the long handle with both hands, held the Mo Dao horizontally in front of him, and examined it carefully.

The forging patterns on the blade are clearer, and under the direct light of the display case, they present a layered, wave-like luster. The blade has been re-polished, and its sharpness is visible to the naked eye.

He tried to swing it, and the blade traced an arc in the air, producing a low, almost panting sound as it cut through the air.

"Domineering."

Luo Fei said that this was the only adjective he had used since entering the museum.

With a thought, the Mo Dao vanished from his hand, along with the enormous, nearly two-meter-long weapon, disappearing into his space.

Wen Junjie was too lazy to even open his mouth. He just glanced at Luo Fei with an almost numb look, then mechanically nodded and said, "Okay, another national security secret. I understand. I won't ask anymore. I'm afraid my brain can't handle it."

Luo Fei ignored him and turned to walk towards the exit of the exhibition hall. Wen Junjie followed behind, turning back to take one last, reluctant look at the smashed, empty display cases, muttering, "Empty, all empty."

"You took them all, not a single one was put back. Brother, are you a secret agent or just here to do an inventory? This efficiency surpasses the combined results of the Great Xia Cultural Relics Bureau's hundred-year search."

Luo Fei pushed open the glass door of the exhibition hall and walked back into the lobby.

Wen Junjie followed behind, still rambling on: "If only these artifacts could return to Great Xia, even if all the people of Great Xia only saw them once, it would be worth it for me, Wen Junjie, to die here. Brother, I'm begging you for one thing: regardless of whether you can return to Great Xia or not, you must bring these things—"

Before he could finish his sentence, he bumped into someone.

Four or five uniformed men stood at the entrance of the museum. The one in the lead was wearing a dark blue Japanese police uniform, with handcuffs and a walkie-talkie on his waist. His hat brim was pulled low, revealing only the lower half of his face, which was smeared with volcanic ash.

Standing next to him was a short, stout man wearing a white shirt and black trousers, with a museum staff badge pinned to his chest. Several others were also dressed as police officers, one of whom was holding a black baton.

The two groups bumped into each other in the lobby. When the other group saw Luo Fei and Wen Junjie emerge from the depths of the museum, all five of them widened their eyes simultaneously.

The short, stout man wearing the work badge was the first to react. He pointed at Luo Fei and Wen Junjie, muttering a string of Japanese-accented Mandarin in a hurried and fierce tone, his face twitching with excitement.

The lead policeman reacted even faster, his right hand already on the holster at his waist, his left hand outstretched in a "stop and don't move" gesture, and then he shouted loudly in Japanese.

Wen Junjie understood. He instinctively stopped in his tracks, his lips moved, and he translated the words the policeman had just shouted to Luo Fei.

"He asked us how we got in."

The air at the museum entrance seemed to freeze for a moment.

Five uniformed men blocked the gate. The leader, a Japanese policeman, had his right hand on his holster. His fingers hooked open the holster's snap, revealing a corner of the black gun handle inside.

The museum badge on the chest of the short, stout man next to him swayed in the dim light of falling volcanic ash, and his fleshy face was filled with astonishment and anger.

The three policemen behind him also became more vigilant. One of them pulled his baton from his waist and held it in a defensive posture.

Wen Junjie stopped in his tracks. His body instinctively took a half step back, his shoulders involuntarily hunching over, and his lips moved as he translated the words the policeman opposite him had just shouted to Luo Fei: "He asked us how we got in."

Luo Fei did not stop.

His pace didn't slow down at all. Even as Wen Junjie finished translating the sentence, Luo Fei's gaze had already swept over a glass display case on the right side of the hall entrance.

That display case is used to show the museum's architectural model and introduction. The case is about 1.2 meters high and 1 meter wide. Under the glass cover is a life-size miniature model of the museum made of wood. The base is made of thick walnut wood. The entire display case weighs at least three or four hundred kilograms.

Luo Fei stretched out his right hand, his five fingers gripping the edge of the display case base. His fingers were like five steel nails embedded in the wood. Then, with a single arm exerting force and a twist of his waist and hips, he lifted the three or four hundred-pound display case, glass and wooden base, up completely.

Wen Junjie witnessed this scene.

He saw the muscles on Luo Fei's arm tense up in an instant, the fabric of his coat stretched into sharp lines by the bulging muscles, and then the display case, which he had just mentally estimated the weight of as he passed by, was lifted off the ground.

Without pausing, Luo Fei lifted the display case and swung it around like a brick, smashing the three or four hundred-pound object toward the door.

The display case flipped once in the air, its glass cover reflecting a ghastly white light as it turned. The five Japanese people at the entrance simultaneously widened their eyes, their pupils reflecting an ever-growing dark shadow.

The lead policeman reacted quickly; he took his hand off his holster and tried to dodge to the side, but before he could make a full dodge, the display case was already in front of him.

"Bang—crash!"

The display case slammed into the five men. The wooden base struck the chests of the two first officers with a dull thud, and the glass case shattered upon impact, shards flying everywhere. (End of Chapter)