The sacrificial pit stretched out in a rectangular shape, scattered within it were human bones that, even upon a cursory glance, showed severe calcification. Some of them still maintained their postures from before death, undisturbed for perhaps a millennium.

Red Sister sighed as she looked at the bones in the sacrificial pit. She contemplated how, two thousand years ago, these were all living beings.

Generally speaking, one would not expect to find burial artifacts in the sacrificial pits of the Shang and Zhou dynasties, as they were meant for slaves who were not entitled to such luxuries.

But this time was different. Chen Jiansheng had sharp eyes; he noticed a chicken-head pottery jar lying horizontally within the pit, half of its body buried in the earth.

Given the low value of pottery, it wasn’t worth much money. Red Sister suggested they move on to find a way out, rather than linger there.

Chen Jiansheng shook his head and said, "Hold on, don’t rush. Chen the Logistician, you didn’t look closely. Take another look at that pottery jar," he pointed down into the pit.

So, we looked again, this time more carefully.

"What is that, if not a chicken-head pottery jar?" I barely made out a clay sculpture miniature on the surface of the jar, with only a small portion visible above the ground.

"Shocked, aren't you? Never seen one before?" Chen Jiansheng said nonchalantly, "Yes, pottery may not be valuable, but it depends on the class. The one in this pit is not of low status; this is a Pottery Soul Warehouse, a first-class cultural relic!"

Soul Warehouses were only popular during two dynasties, the Shang-Zhou period and the Eastern Han period. During the Han dynasty, Soul Warehouses were placed under the coffin boards of the deceased, filled with seeds of various grains, symbolizing the dead’s ability to be self-sufficient and partake in the food of the living world after passing. Most of what you’d find in the antique market are these kinds, and some ignorant folks would pay a high price for them, keeping them in their bedrooms for appreciation, which is inauspicious.

However, Soul Warehouses from the Western Zhou period are different. Due to the fragility and difficulty in preservation of pottery from such a distant era, Western Zhou Soul Warehouses are rare, and rarity begets value, indeed fetching a handsome price.

I later came into contact with some Feng Shui experts from the Hong Kong region, who have a penchant for Western Zhou Soul Warehouses. Upon hearing of their discovery, they would pay a great sum to acquire them. I’ve heard from hearsay that these items can trap the three souls and seven spirits of those who have met untimely deaths. Provided that a Buddhist ritual is performed and the seventh day after death is observed, then a corpse that remains intact can be reanimated on the night of the seventh day after death.

Returning to the matter at hand, the Sacrificial Pit was not particularly deep, barely less than two meters from the ground. Chen Jiansheng was energized, leaping down directly, determined to excavate the Soul Warehouse to see if it was intact and in good condition, pondering if there was a way to take it with him.

I told him it was hardly the time, but my admonishments fell on deaf ears.

Such is the instinct of a Tomb Raider—never leaving empty-handed, transfixed by rare treasures, scheming by all means to extricate them. To walk away without trying would feel like missing out on a fortune.

The Tomb Raider profession isn't one that can be appeased with a mere silk banner and five hundred cash.

Chen Jiansheng jumped into the Sacrificial Pit, gazing at the bones before him, he said, "My respects, I'll just borrow something, no offense meant." With that, he bent down and felt for the buried Soul Storage Jar.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Huh? This heavy?" he exclaimed in surprise as he lifted it.

A Soul Storage Jar from the Western Zhou period was certainly not filled with grain. As for its actual contents, hardly anyone knew.

"Damn, it's really heavy. Could it be stuffed with gold bricks?" he grunted, struggling to lift the Soul Warehouse, his expression strained.

"Quick, help me out, I can't climb up."

I hurried to the edge of the pit, grabbed his hand, and pulled him up.

The lid of the Soul Warehouse was tightly sealed, suggesting it was untouched original goods.

Chen Jiansheng dusted the dirt off his knees, "What do you think? Shall we open it now? Original goods like these are rare; many veterans in the trade have never seen one."

Red Sister sneered, "What high-grade item can come out of a Sacrificial Pit? It might just be filled with petrified feces from two thousand years ago."

Her words turned his hard-won treasure into a lump of dung, leaving Chen Jiansheng visibly embarrassed.

"Chen the Logistician, you do have a way with jokes. I've got a proposition for you—lend me your Small Dagger, I'll pry this thing open and we'll see what's inside."

Observing Chen Jiansheng speak, I shook my head. I always felt that Chen Jiansheng's attitude towards Red Sister had softened considerably since our first meeting. Red Sister had been constantly berating him along the way, calling him a Southern Sect rat, yet even so, Chen Jiansheng would at most grumble a few words in response.

Everyone has a penchant for gossip, and I speculated whether this old fellow harbored some improper thoughts towards Red Sister.

My mind raced with thoughts, "Impressive, is Chen the Earthworker aiming to take over Alpine Meadow?" It was a common rumor amongst our circle that A Mole was quite liberal in nature, and I suspected this old chap was still oblivious to that fact.

Taking the Small Dagger, Chen Jiansheng squatted down. After steadying the Soul Warehouse, he began to pry it open with the knife.

Along the rim of the pottery soul storage vessel, there was a layer of pale yellow substance resembling a waterproof wax oil layer. After more than two thousand years, this wax oil layer had dried to a stone-like hardness. Even when prodded with a dagger, it merely left a white mark, proving extremely tough.

Thanks to the sharpness of the dagger, after toiling for more than ten minutes and breaking into a sweat, Chen Jiansheng finally pried open a small crack.

Instantly, a rich aroma of alcohol assaulted his nostrils.

Chen Jiansheng's eyes bulged with astonishment. "I... The soul warehouse contains liquor? Liquor that's over two thousand years old!"

He took a step back, immediately shaking his head in denial. "No, no, that can't be right. Back then, there were no distilled spirits with high alcohol content. This smell of alcohol..."

Red Sister's curiosity was piqued as well. She looked at the soul warehouse on the ground and said, "In the Dabaotai Han Tomb, a well-preserved celadon plum bottle was unearthed, which contained liquor. Although rare, such discoveries have happened before, just not witnessed by many."

Upon hearing this, Chen Jiansheng, whether he wanted to show off or had some other reason, suddenly declared, "Today, I, Chen Jiansheng, am in for a treat. Once the lid is opened, the aroma will soon evaporate. I can't miss this opportunity; I must taste this wine and savor its flavor."

"You're not serious, Chen the Earthworker, you want to drink it?" I was taken aback by his audacity.

He rubbed his chin and smiled, "I'm a real lush, haven't had a drop in half a year. Thousand-Year Fine Wine, just the thought of it makes my mouth water. Tell me, lad, do you know what The Ultimate State of Drinking Wine is?"

I shook my head, indicating my ignorance, and mentioned that I don't drink.

He glanced at Red Sister and boasted arrogantly, "The Ultimate State of Drinking Wine is to drink until you get liver cancer. Reaching that stage means you've achieved perfection in your practice."

I almost couldn't contain my laughter. Indeed, that's one way to reach 'perfection'—straight to the crematorium for a new abode.

Red Sister muttered a curse under her breath, "Two Hundred and Fifty."

"Heh, watch this, I'm going to drink," he said, prying off the entire wax oil seal of the soul warehouse and reaching in to scoop out a bit.

Smacking his lips, his brow furrowed, and his expression did not look good.

"What's wrong, Chen the Earthworker? How does it taste?" I was silent, half-expecting he had been poisoned.

Chen Jiansheng swallowed and with a frown replied, "What kind of liquor is this? It clearly smells like alcohol, but why does it taste so strange, as sweet as sugar water?"

No more than three minutes had passed when I suddenly noticed his face turning red, growing redder by the moment, almost as if it had been brushed with red paint.

He vigorously shook his head.

"Damn it, what's going on? This must be fake liquor." (To be continued)

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I have also posted the following more chapters [All free]: https://www.readgates.com/article/7b136c