I was a rookie reporter in the 00s

Zhang Wanqing stood at the entrance of the antique shop, took a deep breath, and pushed open the heavy wooden door. The hinges creaked with a long, drawn-out sound, like the whisper of history. Fu Siyuan followed closely behind, his gaze roaming every corner of the antique shop, trying to grasp the secrets hidden in the dust.

The antique shop was filled with an ancient and mysterious atmosphere, each piece seeming to tell its own story. Zhang Wanqing's eyes flickered over the familiar objects, finally settling on a dusty glass case. There lay an antique she had never noticed before—an old leather-bound book inlaid with strange symbols, like a code from another world.

Fu Siyuan noticed Zhang Wanqing's gaze and asked softly, "What is that?"

Zhang Wanqing shook her head, a hint of uncertainty in her voice: "I don't know, but I can feel it is related to the 'Mohist'."

She carefully opened the glass case and reached out to retrieve the book. The cover felt strangely cold beneath her fingertips, as if plucked from the abyss of history. She gently flipped the pages, and the strange symbols danced in the light, as if coming alive.

Fu Siyuan leaned in closer, his brow furrowed as he tried to decipher the symbols. "These symbols...I seem to have seen them somewhere before."

Zhang Wanqing's eyes moved quickly between the pages, trying to find more clues. Suddenly, her eyes fixed on an old photo tucked between the pages. It was a portrait of an ancestor of the "Mohist" school, and he was holding this book in his hands.

"It seems we've found the right direction." There was a hint of excitement in Zhang Wanqing's voice, but more of nervousness.

Fu Siyuan nodded, his eyes wandering around the antique shop, as if searching for something. "If this book is the legacy of the Mohist school, then there must be other clues here."

They began to search the antique shop carefully, each antique might be the key to the secret. Zhang Wanqing's eyes lingered on the old clocks, porcelain and paintings, her fingers gently touching those cold surfaces, feeling their history.

Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to an ancient music box. Its shell was intricately carved with patterns that bore a striking resemblance to the symbols in the book. She carefully opened the box, and a melodious melody began to play. It was ancient and mysterious, as if it came from another era.

As the music played, the bottom of the music box slowly opened, revealing a hidden drawer. Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan exchanged a glance, knowing that this drawer must contain important clues.

Zhang Wanqing, her hands trembling, pulled a yellowed piece of paper from the drawer. The handwriting was blurred, but she could vaguely make out the name of the ancestor of the Mohist school. She took a deep breath and began to read.

The letter mentioned an ancient legend about a mysterious treasure discovered by the ancestors of the Mohist school. This treasure was hidden in a place that only the descendants of the Mohist school could unlock. The book and the music box were the key to unlocking this secret.

Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan began to study the book and music box, trying to find clues to the mystery. As time went by, they delved deeper into the mystery and drew closer to the truth. Just then, Fu Siyuan noticed a book on the bookshelf that was arranged differently from the others. It was thick and placed horizontally on the shelf, with a seal on top.

Fu Siyuan walked over, picked up the seal, and moved the book with his hands, but found it difficult to move. Suddenly, the wall next to the bookcase moved, and the door of a secret room was opened.

Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan entered the secret room of the antique shop. Ancient paintings hung on the walls, the figures in them whispering secrets. Diaries and letters lay quietly on the stone table. They held the key to the Mohist legacy and marked the beginning of their adventure.

Zhang Wanqing carefully flipped open the diary. Each page, yellowed and fragile, seemed to bear the weight of history. Her eyes wandered over the densely packed text, trying to find a clue. Fu Siyuan, beside her, studied the letters, his brow furrowed as he scribbled something in his notebook.

"These letters mention a place called 'Hidden Spring,'" Fu Siyuan's voice broke the silence of the chamber. "It is said that this is where the ancestors of the 'Mo School' discovered the treasure."

Zhang Wanqing looked up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "The diary also mentions 'Hidden Spring', but its exact location is a mystery."

They began to discuss, trying to piece together the clues to the "Hidden Spring." Zhang Wanqing's fingers gently touched the diary cover, and she could sense the power hidden in the words. Her heartbeat quickened with each discovery, and her breathing became rapid.

Fu Siyuan's eyes scanned the letter back and forth, his voice low and firm: "We need to find the 'Hidden Spring', where there may be the key to unlocking the secret of the inheritance."

Zhang Wanqing nodded, a look of determination flashing in her eyes: "We can't let this secret fall into the wrong hands."

They began preparing, gathering the necessary equipment and materials. Zhang Wanqing checked her backpack to make sure she had a flashlight, a map, food, and water. Fu Siyuan checked his camera and notebook; they needed to record every discovery.

As night fell, the lights in the antique shop grew dimmer. Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan stood at the door of the antique shop, their figures looking particularly lonely under the light. They knew that they were about to embark on a journey full of unknowns and dangers.

Their footsteps echoed in the empty streets, and the night was like a huge curtain, tightly wrapping their figures. Their hearts were filled with a desire for the unknown and a vigilance against danger.

Just as they were about to leave, the door of the antique shop was suddenly pushed open, and a figure hurried in. Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan immediately became alert, their eyes as sharp as knives, staring at the newcomer.

The man who came was a man in a black robe, his face hidden by his hood, revealing only a pair of sharp eyes. His gaze roamed around the antique shop, finally settling on Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan.

"What did you find?" The man's voice was low and threatening.

Zhang Wanqing and Fu Siyuan exchanged a glance, knowing they had to protect this secret. They quickly hid the diary and letter, then faced the newcomer.

"We found nothing." Zhang Wanqing's voice was calm, but her hand had quietly touched an ancient candlestick, ready to defend herself at any time.

The man sneered, his eyes darting around the antique shop, as if searching for something. "I know you've found the Mohist legacy. Hand it over, or don't blame me for being rude."