My grandfather was the last tomb raider in the trade to wear an official uniform while plying his craft. When he was buried, what he held in his mouth wasn't a soul-calming pearl, but half of a bronze fragment. Seven years later, an archaeological team discovered a Shang-Zhou sacrificial pit beneath my family's old house. The team leader quietly handed me a photo that night. Engraved on the bronze fragment were the words: “Tomb Raider Captain, read this and meet your doom.” Only then did I realize that my grandfather wanted me to start from scratch and rob the tomb that was his own, a lonely grave heavily guarded by the “authorities.”
