After paying the painful price of fifty ice creams and being reduced to a pack mule hauling oversized bags, Ryan was finally rewarded with a comforting sight—Xun'er had at last turned around to lead the way.
They walked along the pebbled path, moving gradually from the bustling heart of the amusement park into a more secluded area. Watching the dimming lights around them, Ryan couldn't help but ask, "Young lady, are you sure it's here?"
"Xun'er never lies!" She pouted indignantly, as if insulted by the question, and came to an abrupt halt, refusing to take another step.
Ryan cursed her a hundred times over in his heart, yet still managed a strained smile on his face, coaxing her with dulcet tones.
Only after he promised another thirty ice creams did Xun'er reluctantly resume the lead. She pointed toward a flowerbed and said, "Uncle, look over there..."
"Hm?" Following her gaze, Ryan's face lit up with joy, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably.
Dear God! There, half-buried in the soil of the flowerbed, a black backpack peeked out, surrounded by a few scattered bombs.
The thrill lasted only a moment. Ryan immediately lunged forward—but suddenly paused, then turned with a dazzling smile. "Little lady! Wait here. I have another gift for you…"
"Mm!" Delighted at the mention of more presents, Xun'er stopped in her tracks and nodded sweetly.
Ryan cast a few wicked glances back at her, amused by his own irony: a gift indeed—only, who would end up gifting whom?
With a sinister grin, he cheerfully stepped into the flowerbed and grabbed the backpack.
"Strange… Why won't it budge?" he muttered, pushing up his glasses in confusion.
It didn't appear to be buried very deep, yet it wouldn't come out. Suspicious, he tugged harder. Still unmoved—as if it had taken root.
Face flushed from exertion, Ryan planted his feet firmly and growled, "Damn it! That bastard must've buried this thing in the earth's core!"
"Need a hand?" a sudden voice interrupted his curses.
Startled, Ryan quickly replaced his expression with a courteous smile and turned around as if nothing was amiss. "No, thank you! I appreciate the offer, but I think I can—"
His sentence froze on his lips.
His expression stiffened, as though he'd just seen a plus-sized goddess pole-dancing in broad daylight.
But reality was far more disturbing.
About five or six meters away, a bronze vessel rested lazily beside the flowerbed, curiously watching his digging.
"Uh…" Ryan was instantly petrified. Had he not previously encountered monsters with his boss, he would've likely fled in terror.
Even so, this shambling, sentient bronze vessel was somehow more unbelievable than any creature he had seen.
After standing dumbfounded for half a minute, and with the vessel nearly dancing up to him, Ryan stumbled back in fright and stammered, "W-Who… What are you?"
"Idiot!" The vessel gave him a scornful spin. "I am the legendary Four-Rams Square Zun—one of the most magnificent, profound, and artistic relics of ancient Chinese bronze civilization. But forget it. I doubt you'd understand. What are you doing here?"
"I… I was…" Ryan, still dazed by the narcissistic artifact, blinked several times before instinctively pulling at the backpack. "My bag's buried here. I just want to dig it out."
"Is that so?" The bronze vessel circled the backpack with an air of nonchalance, gently swaying.
But just as Ryan heaved a relieved sigh, the vessel suddenly spoke: "Very well. Then by all means, continue. But first—you'll need to pay the protection fee."
"Protection fee?" Ryan's jaw dropped. He glanced around, baffled. Wasn't this a public place? Why was there a protection fee?
And collected by… a bronze artifact, no less? Had China's diversity initiatives extended so far that even relics now held citizen rights?
"Of course!" the Zun snapped, striking a threatening pose. "Let me lay it out—this flowerbed is under my jurisdiction. Everything here is mine. So, if you want to dig, you pay. It's not expensive—just five hundred yuan."
"Five hundred?! That's not expensive?!" Ryan yelped, glancing at his wallet. This was daylight robbery!
"Quit whining! I was going to charge you a thousand," the Zun snorted, slamming onto his foot. "But since you're a foreign guest, I'll give you a discount!"
Tears welled in Ryan's eyes. He had to admit—Chinese people were truly hospitable to foreigners.
Touched by this irony, he decided to "return the favor." A few seconds later, a compact pistol appeared in his hand from thin air.
"Protection fee? I'll give you one chance—get lost, or I'll ship you to the recycling yard!"
"That real?" The Zun froze at the sight of the black muzzle.
But before Ryan could pull the trigger, the vessel burst into laughter. "Threaten me? Fool! You dare? Brothers, assemble!"
With a sharp whistle, dozens of bronze and porcelain artifacts leapt from the bushes and swarmed toward him.
Ryan stood speechless. Watching a mob of grinning museum pieces advance, he began to question reality.
Then, as if to test his sanity further, a hulking Simuwu Ding jumped forward and smashed several stones with glee. "Code red! Robbery in progress—this is not a drill!"
Fantastic.
Realizing the gun was useless, Ryan wisely surrendered. With a face of utter resignation, he handed five hundred yuan to the Four-Rams Zun, accompanied by a pitiful smile.
But the Zun didn't even glance at it. "Only five hundred? What about the broken stones just now? That's at least five thousand in damages!"
Ryan nearly coughed up blood. "Wait, I didn't break those! Why should I pay? And if stones are that valuable, what about the flowers I accidentally stepped on?"
"Ah! Thank you for reminding me!" The Zun swayed thoughtfully. "Let's add those too. Just give us ten thousand total. And don't stare like that—if you hadn't resisted, would we have broken anything?"
Absurd! This was absolute madness!
Ryan had no strength left to argue. Surrounded by these violence-worshipping antiques, he could only mutter, "Fine, fine. I'll pay. But I only have five thousand in cash!"
"Cards, then!" barked the Zun, with impressive gangster flair. "Bank cards, ID cards, meal cards, SIM cards—hand them over. And while you're at it, your QQ account and password too!"
What could he do? For the sake of the boss's bombing plan, poor Ryan endured humiliation and handed over everything of value.
A few minutes later, the band of relics strutted off, satisfied. Ryan looked into his empty pockets, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to cry.
But real men don't weep easily.
Summoning all his strength, he pounced on the buried backpack again. Perhaps driven by despair, he managed to yank it free this time—only to fall flat on his back from the force.
"Oh God!" Ignoring the pain, Ryan cradled the backpack like a long-lost child, tears streaming down his cheeks. "China is terrifying! If Bin Laden came here…"
"Hey! Look here!" A sudden voice made him look up.
From the treetops, a Yangzhi Vase somersaulted through the air. "Behold my mid-air double twist plus 360-degree spin and lateral drop—"
Thud! Before finishing the move, the vase smashed into Ryan's forehead.
Cracks splintered across its body, and as Ryan passed out with a groan, the vase mournfully sighed, "Violence really isn't my thing. Maybe I should just stick to cheering from the sidelines."
Before it could finish, the bronze and porcelain gang returned.
The Four-Rams Zun led the charge, barking orders: "Strip him! Strip him clean! The boss said everything has value—even his underwear can be used for incense!"
"Yes, sir!" the artifacts replied, swarming Ryan.
Within seconds, the poor explosives expert was stripped bare—cleaner than if he'd just stepped out of a bath.
Eyeing him with lingering interest, the Zun and the vase sighed. "Forget it. We were going to shave his head too, but alas, we are too merciful… Mission complete!"
With a whistle, the gang retreated, arms full of loot.
Before leaving, a few bronze pieces hesitated, glancing at the backpack.
"Take it," the Zun said after a pause. "Boss said it's a firework. Let's set it off to celebrate our first successful heist."
"Ooh, I've never lit a firework before!" the relics cheered, shaking with excitement.
Moments later, the once-lively flowerbed returned to eerie silence.
Yet even as Ryan groaned in misery, the Yangzhi Vase reappeared, spat some muddy water onto his chest, and wrote a single line.
Under the cold moonlight, the words shone bright and clear:
"Robbery is an art."