...The night Su Yang pressed the button to confirm his inheritance, the nursing home suddenly lost power. Emergency lights illuminated the photos covering the walls. Every elderly resident he had personally seen off was marked in the historical archives as having "died in the 1987 fire." His phone vibrated frantically, and for the first time, the sign-in System issued a task on its own: Destroy all inherited texts before dawn, or Grandma Wang's remaining 48 hours of life will be deducted.
At that moment, Lin Xiaorou's gun was pressed against his back, while the drones outside the window were already loaded with incendiary bombs. A piece clicked into place on Uncle Chen's chessboard. On the back of the bloodstained general was a clear imprint of Su Yang's baby footprint...
When tycoon Wang Tianyou approached the nursing home with a bulldozer, 23-year-old Su Yang was using acupuncture to awaken an unconscious archaeologist. On the TV beside the hospital bed, an overseas auction was being broadcast. The Northern Wei Buddha statue that had just sold for 230 million was unmistakably a 3D-printed fake he had repaired with his own hands the week before.
"Young man, it's time to close the net." Uncle Chen ran his fingers over his family's ancestral Tianhuang stone seal, and the ginkgo tree outside suddenly shed a century's worth of dust. Su Yang opened a special interface on his phone. The floor plan of the entire nursing home instantly transformed into a three-dimensional star chart, with every resident's room lit up by a point marking a national treasure. This was the real master plan the Cultural Relics Bureau had laid out thirty years ago.
And the blue light from the miniature scanner in the bag of Lin, the reporter who was always bringing donations, was quietly trained on the dragon-patterned jade pendant on Su Yang's chest...
