Siheyuan: tomb robbing? I am serious about hunting.

He stuffed the broken sword into the crack of the firewood pile. After doing all this, the black figure pulled out a handful of coarse sand from his arms and spread it evenly on the floor of the woodshed, especially where the broken sword was hidden, spreading a thick layer of it. The sand was coarse and yellowish in color, clearly not the fine sand found in this family's yard. The scene stopped abruptly, and Chen Yan suddenly came back to his senses. The strong man's roar rang in his ears again. He subconsciously raised his hand to check his palm, and found that it was stained with a few drops of fine sand that had nothing to do with the sword rust. The color and particle size of the sand were exactly the same as the sand that the black figure had spread in the previous scene. Even the small stones mixed in the sand were exactly the same as the scene in his memory. "Dare to be distracted!" Seeing Chen Yan staring at his palm in a daze, the scarred strong man became even more furious. He pushed Chen Yan hard, and Chen Yan stumbled back two steps. His back hit the cold earth wall, and he gasped in pain. "If you dawdle any longer, the county magistrate won't be quick to punish you! I'll beat your ass off, and you won't regret it!" the lanky man chimed in, his tone thick with menace. He reached out to snatch the broken sword from Chen Yan's hand, as if fearing some trickery. Chen Yan stared at the fine sand in his palm, then at the broken sword held by the lanky man, his mind racing. He quickly reconciled the previous scene with the current situation: the man in the brocade robe had deliberately destroyed the heirloom sword, clearly wanting it to avoid falling into the hands of "Mr. Wang"; and the shadowy figure had not only hidden the sword but also spread coarse sand to frame someone else. The woodshed where he was currently standing was probably where the shadowy figure had hidden the sword, and the original owner had most likely been framed as a "sword thief." As a seasoned conservator, Chen Yan had long cultivated a professional habit of paying attention to minute details in artifacts. He remembered the scene from earlier, when the man in the brocade robe grasped the sword, his fingers had clasped a certain spot on the inside of the scabbard. He feigned a stumble while the lanky man wasn't noticing, reaching out to steady his scabbard. His fingertips lightly traced the inside of the scabbard—and sure enough, about three inches from the hilt, he felt a tiny incision. It was so shallow that, without his years of experience with cultural relics and his acute sensitivity to such subtle marks, he would have been unable to detect it. This incision was exactly where he had seen the brocade-robed man's fingers clasp in the image! "Wait!" Chen Yan suddenly spoke, his voice a little hoarse but filled with undeniable determination. He raised his head and met the scarred man's angry gaze. "You can see the county magistrate, but you must bring this sword with you—it proves I didn't steal it." He pointed at the broken sword in the lanky man's hand, his eyes filled with confidence. "Your master's heirloom sword has a notch on the inside of its scabbard. If I had stolen it, how would I have known this detail? And the sword was deliberately broken, not by me." The scarred man was stunned, clearly unprepared for Chen Yan's sudden words. He looked at the lanky man, his eyes filled with confusion. The lanky man frowned, instinctively feeling the inside of the scabbard. Sure enough, he felt the tiny incision. His expression changed slightly, and he looked at Chen Yan with a hint of caution. Chen Yan clenched the fine sand in his palm, a clear plan already in mind: once he arrived at the county government office, he would not only use the incision on the scabbard to prove his innocence, but also find a way to get his hands on objects related to "Wang" and "coarse sand." If he could trigger the cheat code again and see more of the past, perhaps he could uncover the shadowy figure's identity and the true reason the man in the brocade robe destroyed the sword, completely clearing his name. "What are you still standing there for? Take him away!" The scarred man reacted. Although he had doubts, he didn't dare disobey his master's order. He gestured to the lanky man to put the broken sword away, then re-grabbed Chen Yan's arm, a little softer than before. Chen Yan didn't struggle, but obediently followed them out. Leaving the adobe house, the courtyard scene came into view: a small courtyard, the ground compacted with rammed earth. In the corner lay a few bundles of firewood, and nearby, an old ox was tied, nibbling on hay. Withered morning glory vines climbed the courtyard wall, a few withered yellow leaves swaying in the cold breeze. A man coughed from the main house not far away—presumably the "master" they were referring to. As Chen Yan walked, he observed the courtyard, searching for any trace of the "coarse sand." He saw some scattered fine sand on the ground at the gate, completely different from the coarse sand in his palm. This further confirmed his previous suspicion—that the coarse sand was indeed from outside, brought by the shadowy figure to foment trouble. Leaving the courtyard, the scene on the street shocked Chen Yan even more. The bluestone-paved street was lined with a staggered pattern of wooden houses. Some shops had signs with words like "Wine," "Cloth," and "Medicine" written in a simple, classical regular script. Pedestrians came and went on the street, wearing all kinds of ancient costumes. Some carried loads on their shoulders and hawked their wares, some rode donkeys leisurely, and children chased and played in the streets. All of this was too real to be a dream, making him even more certain that he had truly traveled to ancient times. "Hurry up! Don't look around!" the scarred man urged, pushing Chen Yan. Chen Yan retracted his gaze and followed them forward, silently calculating in his mind: When he arrived at the county government office, he would first meet the county magistrate, and then find a way to get the county magistrate to agree to let him examine items related to the case. As long as he could trigger the golden finger again, he would find more clues. He glanced at the broken sword in the tall and thin man's hand. The green rust on the sword shone faintly in the sunlight, as if silently telling the secrets of the past. He knew that this broken sword was not only the opportunity for him to travel through time, but also the key to clearing his name. He found the document titled "Restoration Parameters for Han and Jin Bronze Swords" and double-clicked it. Immediately, a dense array of data appeared on the screen, including analysis of the sword's material, rust composition, repair adhesive ratio, and the artifact's tolerance, all accurate to two decimal places. "Here are the parameters, copy them yourself," Chen Yan said, inserting a blank USB drive into the computer's port and shoving it towards Su Qingyuan. "I'll log in to the system and register for monitoring permissions now, but next time there are any questions, please communicate via internal email first. Frequent interruptions during repairs can easily cause irreversible damage, which is more serious than delaying security procedures." As he spoke, he finally looked up at Su Qingyuan, a subtle seriousness in his eyes. For him, the safety of the artifacts always came first, and any potential threat to the artifacts required careful consideration.