The Ancient Artifact Speaks

As Gu Chengjun's brush swept across the crack in the gold paint at the corner of the Ming dynasty court lady figurine's eye, the clay figure that had lain on the restoration table for seventeen days suddenly gave a faint scrape, like grains of sand rubbing together.

“Blood...”

His fingertips jerked.

“Soaked through the third hidden compartment of the makeup box.”

In the white light of the restoration lamp, gold dust sifted from the porcelain figurine's lashes, revealing a line of faintly carved characters beneath: “Twenty-third year of Jiajing, Shen woman buried as a companion.”

The clay doll, which should have slept for four hundred years, now spoke in a broken voice, voicing secrets absent even from the local gazetteers: “That night, beneath a moonless sky, a hand in black brocade patterned with clouds...”

The wooden door of Qingzhuxuan creaked open as the wind slammed into it. A chill crept up the back of Gu Chengjun's neck. In ten years of restoring antiques, this was the first time he'd heard a “lifeless object” speak.