Picked Up a White Cut Black Wife - Chapter 4

Shen Zhao scoffed in anger, struggling to break free, but found herself completely immobilized, as if bound by iron shackles. All she could feel was the peculiar sensation of their bodies rubbing together, which only made her freeze even more.

“If you keep groping me like this, don’t blame me for getting rough!” Shen Zhao snapped, her voice laced with anger.

The person in her arms spoke softly, like a pitiful kitten, “Wife, please don’t like anyone else, okay?”

“Stop acting like that,” Shen Zhao said, her face contorted with disgust, her entire body recoiling. “Let go.”

The girl whimpered softly and slowly released her grip.

In the dim light of the room, Shen Zhao noticed the girl’s clothes were haphazardly thrown on, completely disheveled. She frowned. “Raise your arms. Stay still. Don’t move.”

As she spoke, Shen Zhao straightened the girl’s inner layers, then helped her into the padded jacket, zipping it up. Instantly, the girl transformed into a round, puffy figure, with only her head peeking out.

Slightly oversized, but wearable.

Shen Zhao studied her for a moment, then rummaged through the closet for a hat and scarf. Just as she was about to put them on, she noticed the girl’s messy hair. Sensing her gaze, the girl scratched her head and smoothed down a stray strand, but it was clearly futile. She stuck her tongue out sheepishly.

Shen Zhao nearly laughed, but she pressed her lips together and gestured for the girl to take the comb.

“Okay.” But when the comb reached the ends of her hair, it snagged on a knot. The girl immediately looked at Shen Zhao. “Wife.”

“You certainly know how to boss people around,” Shen Zhao said, leaning against the vanity. She rolled her eyes, took the comb, bent down, and carefully untangled the girl’s hair. “Think you’re a princess now?”

The girl huffed and turned to wrap her arms around Shen Zhao’s waist. “Wife.”

Without missing a beat, Shen Zhao reached behind her and lightly slapped the girl’s hand. A startled yelp followed. “Still not behaving?”

The girl withdrew her hand, wincing.

“There.” The long, smooth hair cascaded down like black silk, flowing and lustrous. Shen Zhao said, “Put on your hat and scarf. Hurry up.”

“Why won’t Wife put them on for me?”

“Don’t you have hands?”

The girl pouted slightly and haphazardly wrapped the scarf around her neck, with no rhyme or reason.

As a perfectionist, Shen Zhao couldn’t bear to watch. She took the scarf and rewrapped it properly. The soft, fine strands of hair brushed against the back of her hand, evoking a strange sense of familiarity.

“Princess,” Shen Zhao said, “are you satisfied now?”

With the hat on, only the girl’s eyes remained visible—clear and bright, with a hint of naivety when still.

The girl reached out to pull Shen Zhao closer, but Shen Zhao deftly dodged her grasp. “Let’s go. Hurry up.”

“Okay,” the girl replied, trotting after her like a puppy.

Shen Zhao found a pair of cotton slippers and tossed them at her feet. “Try these on and see if they fit.”

“They fit,” the girl said after looking down for a moment. “Thank you, Wife.”

Shen Zhao gave a noncommittal hum.

Having already booked a hotel, they drove straight there. After checking in, Shen Zhao led the girl to their room, took out all the cash she had, and placed it on the table. “I’ve booked this room for a month. That should be enough time for your injuries to heal.”

Speaking of injuries, Shen Zhao suddenly remembered she’d forgotten the medicine.

With urgent business to attend to, she couldn’t make another trip. “Take a taxi to the hospital yourself and have the doctor change your bandages. Understand?”

“The doctor said Wife should change them.”

“I have things to do. I don’t have time for you.” Otherwise, she would have already dragged her to the police station. If she didn’t know her place, Shen Zhao wouldn’t hesitate to get rough. She turned to leave. “I’m leaving.”

But this girl had never learned the meaning of “knowing her place.” She only knew how to push her luck.

The moment Shen Zhao took half a step away, the girl clung to her from behind, her arms locked tightly around her waist. “Where are you going, Wife? Are you abandoning me?”

“We have no relationship at all—” Realizing she couldn’t reason with this girl, Shen Zhao gave up and said dismissively, “I’m going to work. I’ll come back after my shift.”

“I want to be with my wife,” the girl immediately declared.

Faced with such a stubborn creature, even Shen Zhao, who was usually calm and composed, couldn’t help but feel irritated. “Why would you follow me to work?”

“Then why did you abandon me here?” the girl asked darkly, her voice heavy with suppressed emotion. “My wife doesn’t want me anymore.”

It was a statement, delivered in a flat tone that seemed to pronounce her guilt.

Shen Zhao felt a sudden, inexplicable pang of guilt, freezing her in place, speechless.

Damn it! Even this con artist doesn’t feel guilty. Why should I?

“Don’t want to stay here?” Shen Zhao’s patience snapped. “Fine, then come with me to the police station.”

The girl immediately shook her head, tightening her grip around Shen Zhao.

Shen Zhao winced in pain from the suffocating embrace. “If you don’t want to go, let go of me right now!”

“Why don’t you want me?” The girl released her grip, resting her head against Shen Zhao’s back.

Shen Zhao’s head throbbed. Glancing at the time, she realized it was already afternoon. Soon, darkness would fall. Flying to Feng’an would take another two hours. She couldn’t afford any more delays.

“I have urgent business to attend to. It’s not that I… don’t want you,” Shen Zhao said through gritted teeth.

“Then why didn’t you just take me home with you?”

Shen Zhao: “……”

“Wife, please take me with you,” the girl pleaded, nuzzling against Shen Zhao’s back.

“No, it’s against the rules. Outsiders aren’t allowed in.”

Hearing this, the girl lowered her head and murmured, “Am I an outsider?”

Shen Zhao, tired of arguing, turned and gently pushed her aside. “I’m leaving now. Stay here and rest.”

“Okay. Will you come back for me after work, Wife?”

Shen Zhao nodded vaguely, glanced at the time, and hurried out the door, failing to notice the girl’s unwavering gaze behind her—like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, desperately concealing its true nature.

By the time Shen Zhao arrived at Feng’an, dusk was approaching. Roughly twenty excavation squares were neatly arranged, their occupants digging and shoveling. Cartloads of soil were piled to one side, while unearthed artifacts lay scattered on the other, awaiting transport by special vehicles.

Shining her flashlight, Shen Zhao carefully approached and examined the scene.

Although artifacts from the Li Dynasty had been unearthed months ago, providing the first concrete evidence of the dynasty’s existence, seeing this vast collection again still moved Shen Zhao deeply.

As darkness fell, only the gatekeeper noticed her arrival. She kept quiet, silently observing the progress in each excavation square.

The Feng’an Mausoleum, recently discovered, is believed to be the tomb of a royal descendant from the Li Dynasty. However, due to its great age and the ravages of ancient tomb robbers, the tomb’s true location remains undiscovered, and the identity of its occupant remains unconfirmed.

Historical records, though unofficial, state that in the forty-ninth year of the Li Dynasty, Emperor Li’s youngest daughter, Roujia Shushun, possessed a gentle and virtuous nature and a radiant, ethereal beauty. Thus, she was bestowed the title of Princess Feng’an… By the end of the fifty-first year, Princess Feng’an had passed away, plunging the entire nation into mourning…

No complete fragment of information about this princess could be pieced together. Further investigation proved impossible. Shen Zhao had only glimpsed a few details by chance in Xu Muqing’s study.

At the time, some scholars speculated that a dynasty lasting merely one hundred and thirty-seven years had once existed in history. Intrigued by this fleeting era, Shen Zhao made it her research focus. Yet, years of study yielded no conclusive results until two years ago, when her team unearthed a… and the Feng’an Mausoleum site.

“Wait! Don’t dig yet!”

The urgent shout from nearby snapped Shen Zhao out of her reverie. Several flashlights crisscrossed wildly as they converged on a single spot. She naturally followed.

“Smell the soil here! The burial chamber must be close!”

An excited, confident voice rang out, and a flicker of smiles appeared on the weary faces of the team members.

Shen Zhao had learned that archaeologists primarily distinguish burial sites by soil composition. After coffins and other wooden artifacts decompose, the soil turns black. Meanwhile, the oxidation of buried bronze and iron causes the soil to darken or turn green.

Good thing I arrived in time today.

“Teacher Wang, let me handle this,” Shen Zhao said.

“Hmm?” Wang Sheng turned around, only then realizing it was her. “Oh dear, what are you doing here? Old Xu just told me to chase you away if I saw you.”

Wang Sheng was the chief archaeologist for this excavation, and Shen Zhao had collaborated with her on numerous projects in the past.

Shen Zhao smiled, pulled her trusty shovel from her bag, and said coaxingly, “Then just don’t tell her I’m here. Besides, now that I’m here, wouldn’t an extra pair of hands be helpful?”

Before she could finish, Xu Muqing’s voice rang out from behind her, barely half a shoulder’s width away.

“Hmph!”

Shen Zhao quickly steadied him. “Teacher, you shouldn’t have come all this way with your leg trouble…”

Xu Muqing huffed again. “And you’re already trying to tattle on me!”

“Teacher…”

Wang Sheng intervened, smoothing things over. Shen Zhao helped Xu Muqing to the side, took a shovel from a nearby worker, and carefully climbed down into the deep pit.

Several younger archaeologists leaped effortlessly into the pit, making her descent seem clumsy by comparison.

She remembered a time when she, too, had been fearless, relying on her youth and boundless energy. But years of fieldwork had taken their toll, leaving her with chronic injuries that forced her to transition to indoor work three years ago, occasionally assisting with document organization or artifact restoration.

But her true passion lay in archaeological excavation sites—the unparalleled thrill of personally digging through layers of dust to uncover a piece of history, to recreate a scene from the lives of ancient people.

Shen Zhao couldn’t help but chuckle. Though she was barely thirty, she felt as if she were already nearing the end of her life.

As the excavation deepened, cart after cart of yellow earth was hauled away.

Shen Zhao crouched on the ground, switching to a small iron shovel. She carefully dug, then used a small brush to gently sweep away the loose soil.

Once the approximate location of the tomb was determined, several people began working simultaneously. Time slipped by unnoticed as moonlight streamed down like silk, illuminating the emerging shape of the tomb. After clearing away the surface soil, faint patterns began to emerge.

Shen Zhao tried to stand up to get a better look, but her legs had gone completely numb, and her back was so stiff she couldn’t straighten up. Gritting her teeth, she ignored the dirt caked on her hands and massaged her lower back until it loosened up. Only then did she brace herself against the excavated earth wall and slowly rise to her feet.

With the lighting equipment concentrated on the tomb, Shen Zhao took a small flashlight and leaned in close, carefully examining the patterns. They seemed familiar, as if she had seen them somewhere before.

Suddenly, a memory flashed through her mind. She vaguely recalled that the floral pattern on the skirt of the woman who had staged the car accident bore a striking resemblance to the patterns on the coffin. But she immediately shook her head, dismissing the thought. Why am I even thinking about that con artist? I must be going crazy.

It’s probably just a coincidence.

“Xiao Zhao, what do you think?” Xu Muqing, supported by her assistant, approached the burial chamber and asked Shen Zhao.

After a discussion among the technicians and experts, some had begun to doubt the identity of the tomb’s occupant.

“How could a princess of the Li Dynasty be buried with such meager grave goods?”

“While the burial customs of the Li Dynasty typically dictated more lavish offerings, historical records show that by the time Princess Feng’an was buried, the dynasty was nearing its end, and the imperial treasury had been depleted. Therefore, we can’t apply a blanket rule,” Shen Zhao explained.

Xu Muqing nodded, her agreement unspoken.

“We won’t know for sure until we excavate further.”

“Exactly. We’ve come this far; we might as well see it through. If confirmed, this would be a monumental discovery for archaeology.”

Finally, Wang Sheng made the call: they would continue excavating without delay.

While the principle in archaeology is to avoid excavation whenever possible and to refrain from opening coffins unless absolutely necessary, the confirmation of the Li Dynasty’s existence had stirred tomb raiders into action. If they didn’t proceed quickly, who knew what might happen?

With the surveying work completed, the group stood in various locations, small flashlights perched on their heads, and pushed together.

The sound of the coffin lid sliding open echoed through the chamber. Shen Zhao stood to one side, half her face bathed in moonlight, her expression solemn and serene.