At eleven o'clock in the night, the clear closing bell broke the tranquility of the Municipal Museum of History, echoing endlessly under the empty dome.
The last tourists have already left, and the metal rolling shutter door slowly lowers, cutting off the hustle and bustle of the city outside the museum.
On the third floor, in the "Ancient Civilization Relics Area", Lin Zhao was the only one left.
His footsteps were the only sounds in the space.
As the youngest cultural relics administrator in the museum, he was born in an orphanage and had no worries. This boring night-time finishing work naturally fell on him.
Lin Zhao didn't care about this. Compared with the glitz of the outside world, he preferred to stay with these ancient artifacts that had accumulated for thousands of years.
He pushed the tool cart and checked the locks of the showcases one by one, his movements skillful and gentle.
When he walked to the corner of the exhibition area, his eyes fell on a newly stored exhibit.
It was a gray-white stone tablet half a man's height, and its surface was covered with twisted runes carved with knives and axes. It was messy, but seemed to contain some strange pattern.
