Tomb raiding: A mere 20 is nothing!

A few hours ago.

Upon seeing the post on WeChat Moments, Su Wan's first reaction was to call Li Chu.

He thought that Li Cu was her brother, so he would definitely know more about the inside story than they did.

The phone rang for a long time, but no one answered.

Knowing Li Chu as he did, he hung up the phone, booked a plane ticket, packed a few things, and set off.

During this May Day holiday, his parents went on their honeymoon, leaving him alone in the house again. He was originally curled up on the sofa, thinking of an excuse to go see Mingchao, but now he doesn't have to worry about it anymore.

On the way, he also received a call from Yang Hao.

Su Wan hesitated for a moment, but still answered the call.

"Feed? Su Wan?"

"Hmm, bro, what's wrong?"

"What's going on with that post on WeChat Moments? Why can't I get through to Li Chu on the phone? And why is no one home?"

Yang Hao asked three questions in a row, each one crucial. Su Wan thought to himself that he also wanted to know the answers, so he was on his way to find them.

But he certainly wouldn't honestly tell Yang Hao about these inner thoughts.

You have no obligation to share information with your romantic rival!

Even best friends won't do!

Braving the strong winds of Beijing, he slowly moved his phone further away, "Hey? Hey? Bro? The wind's too strong, the signal's bad, I'll hang up now—"

"Hey! Wait a minute! Where the hell are you?!"

"Barcelona, ​​Spain—getting ready to skydive—I'm almost there—wish me luck, bro—"

A split second before the call ended, Yang Hao's voice, still clear despite the wind, rang out: "What?!"

Yes, I can tell you're shocked.

He was also shocked by his ability to talk nonsense.

He can rattle off a single Spanish phrase without hesitation.

When Yang Hao called again, Su Wan immediately rejected the call. He opened a ride-hailing app and entered his destination—Beijing Daxing Airport.

After boarding the plane, Su Wan switched his phone to airplane mode, which finally brought some peace and quiet. But as soon as he got off the plane, a barrage of messages bombarded him in the group chat.

As expected, Ya Li went to find the Ming Dynasty.

What? There were more than just them who went?

Is another one already at the residential area?

After reading the news, Su Wan rushed out of the airport to hail a taxi. At this time, speed was everything, just like college students scrambling for classes. Being one step ahead was always better than being one step behind.

We arrived at the familiar doorway.

Su Wan started to back down again.

Is it impolite to visit without prior notice? What if Mingchao isn't home? What if I'm turned away? Has the pressure arrived yet?

My mind was filled with all sorts of thoughts.

Su Wan scratched his head in embarrassment.

Finally, he made up his mind. Just as his finger touched the doorbell, before he could even apply pressure, a piercing scream suddenly came from inside the house, startling him.

The sound was muffled by the door, but Su Wan was certain he wasn't hallucinating.

? ? ? ?

What happened?

That voice... was it Qi Qiu?

Was a fight breaking out inside?

Well done! They should have eliminated the player with the first eye earlier.

Fearing he might get hurt if he went in now, Su Wan waited a while until it was completely quiet. He took a deep breath, mentally prepared himself, and rang the doorbell.

One sound after another.

It felt as if it were striking his heart, carrying with it a sense of fear about the unknown.

Finally, the door opened with a "bang".

Su Wan's breath hitched. He was about to greet the person when he saw their face, and the words stuck in his throat.

He recognized the person in front of him.

Not long ago on the plane, he practically stared a hole through a photograph, more intently than when he was conducting an experiment.

I had only one thought in my mind: Is this for real? Did the Ming Dynasty really go to such lengths?

The real person is right in front of you now.

Although he was smiling, he could clearly sense the other person's ill intentions.

What is he laughing at?

Su Wan felt a chill run down his spine. The man's eyes and smile made him feel extremely uncomfortable, like a boss in a horror movie grinning at you, and the next second, you would be [censored with gore] and a game over message would pop up.

He unconsciously took a step back.

That's not subjective fear, but a physiological reaction and avoidance of danger.

It's more like a form of self-protection.

But he only took a small step back. After realizing what was happening, he stood up straight, forced a friendly smile, and waved.

Hi~

"Hello, I'm looking for Shen Mingchao. Is she in?"

Wang Can really wanted to say that he wasn't there.

He gritted his teeth, his smile widening. He didn't answer Su Wan's question, but turned to the side and called into the house, "Chao Chao, do you want some spicy rabbit heads? I'll make them tomorrow."

"...Can you?"

"I don't know how, but I can learn. There are already materials available, so let's not waste them." Wang Can said this while staring directly at Su Wan.

Shen Mingchao didn't want to delve into who Wang Can was alluding to; he was only concerned about her enjoyment of food.

"You can make it, but if it doesn't taste good, I won't give you any face."

She takes food seriously.

"Ming Dynasty, do you want to eat spicy rabbit head?" Another cheerful male voice naturally chimed in.

"You can?" Shen Mingchao's tone was full of distrust.

In her memory, Su Wan, a young master who had never lifted a finger since childhood, was still at the beginner level in terms of cooking skills—he could only cook rice.

Dishes like spicy rabbit heads will likely suffer the same fate as the fish in West Lake Vinegar Fish.

He died in vain.

"Uh..." Su Wan was a little embarrassed when asked the right question, but luckily he was quick-witted and took out his phone and waved it: "I don't know how to, but I know how to order takeout."

Everyone present was speechless.

Only Su Wan was cheerful.

After entering the house, he wore a silly grin and excitedly looked around.

Like Grandma Liu visiting the Grand View Garden.

He looked at the chandelier on the ceiling, examined the cups on the table, and even the litter box in the corner caught his attention.

This is the house where he knelt on the durian last time, and even after being doused with cold water, he didn't go in.

It's nice, it's heartwarming.

There are just too many men I don't like.

One person was standing at the door, one was sitting next to the sofa, one was lying on the sofa, and another was standing next to Shen Mingchao.

I don't know what just happened.

The atmosphere among the men was tense and turbulent; apart from the one on the sofa who was the one who couldn't be seen by others, they all had cold faces.

He knew that none of the people present were easy to deal with.

But who cares?

Being someone you can't mess with means you can mess with anyone.

Ignoring everyone else, Su Wan locked his gaze on Shen Mingchao, heading straight for her. He curled his lip and began to wail.

"Chao Chao~~ My parents have abandoned me again to go on vacation. My life is so miserable~~"

That shout stirred up Shen Mingchao's memories, and she subconsciously asked, "You're not going to say you're alone again, are you?"

Oh no, we were predicted.

But it doesn't matter, the play can still be performed as usual.

He used the same trick again, took out some eye drops, put a few drops into his eyes, then wiped away the water from the corners of his eyes, putting on a stubborn, innocent look, and nodded firmly: "Mmm!!!"

Shen Mingchao: This quirky attitude is so familiar. No wonder we're master and disciple, I've inherited all the worst of it.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

(The following paragraphs were not deleted because I wanted to keep the comments. You don't need to read them; just read the story normally. ୧⍢⃝୨)

However, I won't give up yet. Even if it's just history, I think I'd feel quite accomplished if I could finish writing it.