After nightfall, the chorus of frogs and crickets rose and fell in waves. Her mother had long gone to sleep, but Shen Qiufeng lay in bed tossing and turning. The secrets of The Skyward Collection, her ancestors' tragic fates, the schemes of Chen Wenyuan and Zhou Dehou, the giant boulder on Camel Peak鈥攐ne thing after another churned in her mind, refusing to settle.



Moonlight seeped through the window, spilling cold white light across the courtyard bricks. Around three or four in the morning鈥攖he deepest hour of sleep- faint rustling sound came from outside the yard wall, like cloth brushing against the top of the wall, followed by the soft thud of someone landing on tiptoe.



Shen Qiufeng tensed instantly, all sleep vanishing. In this remote mountain village, someone climbing over the wall in the dead of night was up to no good. She held her breath, slowly sat up, didn't even dare put on shoes鈥攈er bare feet pressed against the cool floor as she crept to the window.



Peering through the crack in the door, she saw a dark figure had already dropped into the yard with agile, practiced movements. Without pausing, he crouched low and headed straight for the northwest side room鈥攅xactly where she'd found the mechanism and hidden The Skyward Collection.



Her heart leaped into her throat. The target was clear: the ancient book. In the house were only her and her frail mother鈥攖hey'd be helpless in a fight. Fear crawled up her spine, but she couldn't back down. If the thief succeeded, the secret her ancestors had guarded for a hundred years would fall into evil hands.



She tried to shout but her voice came out as barely a wheeze. She fumbled around for something to defend herself with and found a small piece of wood.



Steadying herself, Shen Qiufeng took a deep breath, then threw open the window and screamed toward the east end of the village with all her strength: "Thief! Someone's stealing! Thief!" She hurled the piece of wood into the center of the yard for good measure.



Her clear cry and the clatter of wood shattered the deep night's silence, reverberating through the mountain hollow.



The dark figure in the yard jolted in surprise鈥攃learly not expecting anyone inside to be awake. Not daring to linger, he turned, sprinted to the wall, scrambled over hands-and-feet, and disappeared into the darkness in moments.



The commotion woke her mother in the next room. She pulled on the light, threw on a coat, and rushed out frantically: "Feng'er! What's wrong? What happened?"



Doors creaked open and footsteps echoed one after another. The neighbors were warm-hearted folk鈥攗pon hearing "thief," every household grabbed flashlights and farm tools and came running. The clatter of iron spades and hoes, the babble of questions, brought the sleeping village to life in an instant.



Uncle Zhao from the east end hurried over too, gripping a large iron spade, face full of worry: "Qiufeng's mom, are you two all right?"



Zhou Dehou arrived last, still buttoning his shirt as he walked, groggy with sleep, asking what had happened.



Shen Qiufeng briefly explained. The crowd searched inside and out with flashlights, but found nothing. After all the commotion, the sky began to lighten into a pale gray. Seeing the thief was long gone, the villagers gradually returned home. Only Zhou Dehou, Uncle Zhao, and his son Zhao Feiyang stayed, insisting on guarding the old house gate until dawn. Feiyang stayed in the yard keeping Qiufeng and her mother company, while Zhou Dehou and Uncle Zhao patrolled the perimeter, searching for traces of the intruder. They found only two long footprints.



Qiufeng was worried about what was in the west wing but couldn't show it with them around. She stepped outside the yard wall and searched the area herself. The soil beneath the wall was soft and should have held clear footprints, but the ground had been deliberately scuffed and smoothed over, leaving only long drag marks. The prints ended where the thief had taken off running on tiptoes. This wasn't an ordinary burglar. Such counter-surveillance skill required extremely strong nerves and experience.



Somewhat relieved, she pretended to check each room. She made a point of examining the northwest wing鈥攏othing seemed disturbed. Her only carelessness had been leaving the ladder there.



After daybreak, Zhou Dehou and the Zhao father-and-son left. Qiufeng washed up and looked in the mirror. She looked haggard after a sleepless night. Looking at herself in the mirror sparked an important question: what were the bronze mirrors actually for? She narrowed it down to a few possibilities: 1) They contained engraved writing or a code. 2) They were for ordinary grooming. 3) They could reflect light.



If they held a code or map, they probably wouldn't be kept in plain sight鈥攎ost likely hidden somewhere. So they must be for use as mirrors or for reflecting light. What purpose would ordinary mirroring serve? What kind of light would need to be reflected?



After breakfast, she prepared to go to town. The walk was five kilometers of mountain road through forest. She hoped to catch a ride. But strangely, not a single vehicle heading to town passed by today. She'd have to walk.



After about two or three kilometers, she felt something was wrong. It felt like eyes were watching her from the shadows. She was certain of it. Normally when she walked these woods, there were lots of birds singing. Today there were none. That meant someone was nearby in the forest. A chill shot from the back of her neck straight to her scalp. Without hesitation, she quickened her pace and dashed forward several hundred meters without stopping. Then a motorcycle engine roared from behind, growing nearer.