After uncovering the secrets of Huntington Manor, everything about the estate lost its luster for Liyan. The manor’s once-beautiful scenery now seemed veiled in a somber fog, and its exquisite food and wine tasted like mere wax in her mouth. Each night, as she lay awake on the velvet bed, she found no comfort in John’s humor or her mother-in-law’s praise; even smiling in front of anyone in the Huntington family felt like a betrayal of her father’s memory.

　　Before she fully understood the truth, the privileges she enjoyed at the manor made her feel like an accomplice in the crime. She repeatedly questioned herself: What role did the Huntington family play in the illegal artifact auctions? How was her father’s sacrifice connected to the luxurious life at Huntington Manor? By marrying into the manor, had she unknowingly made a pact with the devil?

　　The phones at the Huntington Auction House could make international calls, but Liyan didn’t dare take the risk. During a brief lunch break, she snuck away to a public phone booth three blocks from the auction house and dialed an international number for Shanghai.

　　“Mom, it’s Liyan.”

　　“Why has it been so long since your last call? Are you alright?” Her mother’s voice was filled with concern.

　　“I’m fine.” With people around, Liyan had to be brief. “Do you remember Uncle Xu, one of Dad’s colleagues?”

　　“He’s now the director of the Shanghai Museum. We haven’t been in touch for a while.”

　　“I need you to ask Uncle Xu for a favor.”

　　“What kind of favor?”

　　“Could you ask him to help compile a list of stolen artifacts from China since the 1980s? We need photos, both before and after the theft. Especially for artifacts from Henan and Shaanxi—get as many as you can.”

　　“What’s happening?”

　　“Mom, I can’t explain everything right now. Please, contact Uncle Xu and get this information. Once you have it, send it to me as quickly as possible.”

　　“Are you in trouble?” Her mother’s concern deepened with the strange request.

　　“I’m fine, really. Don’t worry about me.”

　　“Be careful.”

　　“I need to get back to work. I’ll talk to you later.” Liyan ended the call, her mind heavy with worry.

　　A month later, Liyan retrieved a package from the post office, marked "From Shanghai, China, Urgent." Inside were sixteen discs documenting stolen artifacts from China since the 1980s. The collection included detailed records of Buddhist statues from the Maijishan and Yungang Grottoes, as well as artifacts from the grottoes in Shaanxi and Sichuan. Heartbreakingly, due to the thieves' inability to transport these half-person or full-person-sized stone Buddhas, they had smashed the heads off the statues, stealing the most valuable parts. Additionally, the discs contained information on ancient tombs raided by tomb robbers before they were even discovered by official Chinese archaeological teams. Most of these were Han, Wei, Jin, Sui, and Tang tombs in the Central Plains and Qinling regions, where devastating looting had left only shattered pottery, jade, and bronze fragments.

　　Director Xu had also specially marked the Longmen Grottoes and the Emperor and Empress Tribute stone slab that had cost Liyan’s father his life. The sixteen discs detailed around 40,000 stolen artifacts and over 300 looted tombs, with countless missing pieces. As Liyan looked through the harrowing list of stolen items, she shivered—where had all these stolen artifacts gone? How had some of them ended up in England?

　　Before the autumn auction, Manager Hopkins officially appointed Liyan as the Chief Appraiser of Asian Art at the Huntington Auction House. Finally, she could enter the Asian storage rooms independently, without Manager Hopkins’s permission or the accompaniment of another senior appraiser. However, the promotion did not bring her joy; instead, it led to a more anxious routine.

　　This winter arrived early and was particularly harsh. Liyan deliberately wore an oversized wool coat, hiding a mini digital camera in the coat pocket as she slipped into the Asian storage room. She had memorized the characteristics of the stolen artifacts provided by Director Xu and secretly photographed anything suspicious she found in the storage room. So absorbed was she in gathering evidence that she didn’t hear the approaching footsteps.

　　“Clang,” came the dull sound of a metal door scraping against its frame.

　　Startled, Liyan’s hand trembled, and the camera fell to the floor.

　　“Ah, it’s you, Ms. Liyan.”

　　“Hello, Manager Hopkins.” Liyan tried to appear calm, using her foot to cover the camera while slowly pushing it under the shelf with her heel.

　　“I thought I heard something fall,” Manager Hopkins said, scanning the floor.

　　“Really? I didn’t hear anything,” Liyan replied with an innocent look.

　　“Maybe I’m just being overly sensitive. I came to take inventory of the artworks.” Manager Hopkins then complimented her, “If all the appraisers were as professional and diligent as you, my job would be much easier.”

　　As he inventoried the newly acquired artifacts, Manager Hopkins shifted the conversation, “You should pick a few hardworking young appraisers for focused training. You need to develop capable assistants for yourself. You don’t need to do everything yourself, and Mrs. Huntington will expect you to allocate some of your energy to operations and management.”

　　Manager Hopkins’ advice was sound, but Liyan already had other plans in mind. She responded with a noncommittal smile.

　　After finishing the inventory, Manager Hopkins turned to Liyan and said, “I’m heading out.”

　　“Alright,” Liyan exhaled a sigh of relief.

　　Halfway to the door, Manager Hopkins suddenly stopped as if his shoes had stuck to the floor. He cautiously lifted his toe, creating a small space beside him, and bent down to pick up a small silver plastic fragment.

　　“Is this plastic?” he muttered skeptically, adjusting his glasses and scrutinizing the piece. “Ms. Liyan, does this look like plastic to you?”

　　Liyan took the small plastic fragment from Manager Hopkins’ hand—it had fallen off her camera. She felt her heart pounding in her throat. “I can’t be sure what it is.”

　　“It certainly doesn’t belong in the Asian storage room,” Hopkins cursed. “Damn it, some people treat rules as a joke. When I find out who did this, I’ll dock their pay.”

　　“Manager, don’t be upset,” Liyan tried to calm him. “It doesn’t seem to have caused any actual damage.”

　　“Rules are rules. If they accidentally brought in liquid or something sharp and damaged the artworks, they couldn’t afford to pay for it,” Manager Hopkins snapped, retrieving the plastic piece from Liyan and storming out of the storage room.

　　Seizing the moment, Liyan quickly picked up her camera and stuffed it back into her coat pocket.

　　Living in constant fear, Liyan managed to take thousands of photos of suspected stolen Chinese artifacts. Comparing the photos with the data from Director Xu’s discs, she identified about 800 items as stolen Chinese artifacts from the past thirty years. All these items were anonymous and undocumented pieces handled through Huntington Auction House’s illicit transactions.

　　Who had entrusted such a large number of stolen artifacts to Huntington Auction House? Did John and Mrs. Huntington know about this? Liyan knew she didn’t have enough evidence yet, so she decided to probe John for information first.

　　Liyan sat at her vanity, brushing her hair, only to see a strand fall out. Her oval face had thinned to a point where it was now angular. She tugged at her pajamas, which hung loosely on her frame, as if they could accommodate another person. She had always been slim but full of energy; now she was just gaunt.

　　“You’ve lost weight,” John said, his voice full of concern. “You’ve been eating less lately. Is your appetite okay?”

　　“There are just too many artifacts to sort through before the autumn auction,” Liyan pouted, sounding pitiful. “I’m so exhausted that I don’t even feel like eating. Working in a family business is a surefire way to lose weight.”

　　“After the autumn auction, let’s take a long vacation. We’ll make up for what you’ve lost.”

　　“I want to go to Brighton, spend my days eating, drinking, napping, and sunbathing on the beach.”

　　“Whatever you want,” John agreed, thinking it was a great idea.

　　“Today, I saw a Buddha statue in the Asian storage room that looked exactly like one I discovered during a rescue excavation with the archaeology department at Peking University,” Liyan said, pretending to be casual.

　　“Really? Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

　　“I’ve never seen a Buddha statue like that anywhere else in China, nor in any books. Only in that stolen cave.”

　　“That’s quite the coincidence. I’ve seen people with no blood relation who look almost identical,” John joked.

　　“I suspect that the Buddha statue in the Asian storage room came from that rescue excavation site.” The relaxed atmosphere suddenly became tense.

　　“You shouldn’t make such accusations lightly,” John said seriously.

　　“Has Huntington Auction House ever sold stolen artifacts?”

　　“I’ve never heard of such a thing. Why are you fixated on this?”

　　Liyan realized she was being too obvious and quickly covered, saying, “Back when I was at Peking University, professors would occasionally mention that some artifacts in foreign auction houses might be stolen. So, I wondered if the Buddha statue I saw today might be one of them.”

　　John was nonchalant. “It’s normal if there are a few stolen artifacts. Britain colonized so many countries, including China. Many soldiers’ and merchants’ descendants have art pieces taken from China. Now that they need money, they’re selling these artifacts. That’s what our auction house is for, right?”

　　“Could there be stolen artifacts from after the colonial period?”

　　“How can you tell if an artifact was looted during wartime or stolen in recent decades?” John countered.

　　“I can’t tell.” Liyan wanted to say she had evidence of stolen artifacts but thought the timing wasn’t right, so she held back.

　　“No more talking about work after hours. Haven’t you had enough of it during the day?”

　　From John’s reaction, Liyan guessed that he didn’t know about the auction house’s secrets.