Siheyuan: tomb robbing? I am serious about hunting.

"Also, on the morning of the exhibition's opening, you'll be required to present a presentation on the restoration process in front of the bronze sword display case, primarily for the media and invited guests. The curatorial department will send you a detailed schedule tomorrow. Please check your email." Chen Yan hummed, but said nothing further. He returned his attention to the restoration parameter document on his computer screen, seemingly pondering the next steps. Seeing this, Su Qingyuan didn't bother him further, turning and leaving with the folder in hand. The clacking of high heels echoed again, gradually fading away at the end of the hallway. The restoration room returned to its previous silence, with only the whirring of the central air conditioning and the gentle hum of the main computer. Chen Yan stared at the lighting parameters on the computer screen, his eyes somewhat distracted. The back of his right hand still clung to the warmth of Su Qingyuan's fingertips, a stark contrast to his own perpetually cold hands. It felt like a faint mark had been imprinted on the back of his hand, a mark that lingered for a long time. He subconsciously raised his hand, staring at the back of his hand, his fingertips gently stroking the spot he had touched. These hands had repaired countless damaged artifacts: from Neolithic pottery jars to Tang and Song dynasty paintings and calligraphy to Ming and Qing dynasty porcelain. Each one was meticulously restored to its original splendor in his hands. His hands had witnessed countless vicissitudes of history, yet for the first time, upon contact with a human, they felt a slight flutter of panic—a subtle panic, like a pebble dropped into a calm lake, stirring a faint ripple, yet it completely disrupted his previously focused mind. Chen Yan took a deep breath, trying to calm the unfamiliar emotion. He closed the parameter document on his computer screen, put on his gloves again, and walked to the restoration table. The bronze sword still lay quietly in the display case, its green rust gleaming softly in the light, a silent reminder of the unfinished work that lay ahead. He picked up the tweezers, picked up the repair glue again, and held it over the 0.3mm gap. This time, it took him longer than usual to regain his focus, and the trembling in his fingertips seemed even more pronounced than before. At the end of the corridor, Su Qingyuan, clutching a folder, hurried towards the curatorial office. Her fingertips still lingered on the cool touch of Chen Yan's hand and the faint scent of restoration glue. She couldn't help but glance down at her fingertips, a barely perceptible smile curling the corners of her mouth—this seemingly aloof restorer didn't seem so difficult to work with. Bronze and Roses, Chapter 2: The Argument in Front of the Display Case. With three days until the opening of the "Han and Jin Bronzes Special Exhibition," the exhibition hall of the Municipal Museum's main building had long since lost its usual tranquility. The construction crew had been stationed at the exhibition hall for a week. The hum of drills, the clanking of wrenches against metal, and the shouts of the workers intertwined like a cacophony, gradually dispelling the dust and old air from the exhibition hall, replacing it with the fresh woody fragrance of the new display cases and the faint scent of paint. A few makeshift lights hung from steel frames overhead, illuminating the floor littered with tools and building materials. Workers in blue work clothes stood on scaffolding, installing the display case frames while others squatted on the floor adjusting the locks. Each one moved hurriedly, beads of sweat on their foreheads. The deadline demanded that the basic installation of all the display cases be completed today, followed by lighting adjustments and display placement tomorrow, and a preview the day after tomorrow. Time was running out. Su Qingyuan, wearing light brown high heels, navigated the busy construction site. She had changed into light gray blazer pants and a white shirt, more comfortable than her previous dress, yet still exuding a sophisticated air. She clutched a tablet, the screen displaying the exhibition hall's construction schedule. She crossed each item off with her fingertips, her brow furrowed slightly, clearly unsatisfied with some detail. Her target was clear: the Han Dynasty bronze sword display case in the center of the exhibition hall. As the centerpiece of this special exhibition, the sword's display case was of the highest standard: fully transparent bulletproof glass, a built-in temperature and humidity control system, and adjustable LED spotlights on the top and sides, perfectly showcasing the sword's historical features and restored details. But as she approached the case, her already furrowed brow deepened, and her expression darkened. The case's bulletproof glass had been nearly installed, its four corner metal brackets gleaming with a cold, hard sheen. A protective film, emblazoned with a red "Fragile" sign, covered the glass. Inside, the Han Dynasty bronze sword rested peacefully on a custom-made black velvet base, the brown silk cord of the hilt and the green patina of the scabbard clearly visible under the makeshift lighting. But the problem lay with the overhead spotlights—two spotlights pointed directly at the center of the scabbard, their light hitting the patina, reflecting a blinding white light that completely obscured the newly repaired 0.3mm crack in the scabbard. Even Su Qingyuan, who peered closely, could only see a blurry reflection. "Teacher Chen!" Su Qingyuan raised her head, scanning the construction site, quickly locating the familiar figure. Chen Yan was standing near another display case, discussing something with the construction team leader. He was wearing a dark blue hooded sweatshirt over a black work vest, a tape measure and a marker tucked into the vest pockets. His gaze was clear, unmistakable, and clear, as if reminding him of the importance of this matter. "Also," Su Qingyuan continued, turning to another page, "the lighting plan for the special exhibition's display cases has been finalized, but the lighting designer needs you to provide the precise tolerance values ​​for the bronze sword after restoration. This includes parameters like maximum illuminance, UV intensity, and color temperature range. These parameters will directly impact the final lighting adjustments. I must get them today, or it will delay the subsequent lighting installation." Chen Yan's brow furrowed even further. He had indeed worked overtime in the restoration room until 1 a.m. yesterday to meet deadlines—that 0.3mm gap was more complex than expected, requiring repeated adjustments to the restoration glue's concentration and filling angle. In his concentration, he had forgotten to register for temporary surveillance access with the security department. But the woman's tone, like interrogating a prisoner, emphasized "rules" and "musts" in every sentence, making him feel uneasy. He walked over to the computer against the wall, sat down, and opened the folder on the desktop. The screen was a specially designed blue-light-blocking screen, with a pristine white background. The folders were neatly organized with various restoration materials, each file name clearly labeled.