Brother Zhou is here. Breaking up is breaking up, but don't treat yourself badly...

Cheng Sizhou felt very sorry. Dr. Mo was over fifty years old and still had to brave the wind and rain to see patients.

In desperation, he had to apologize in advance. Mo Ming asked him to stop and said that as a doctor, curing diseases and saving lives is his duty, so what does this little bit of hard work matter?

Ten minutes later, Mo Ming drove over.

Seeing that there was nothing wrong with Cheng Sizhou's physical cooling method, he asked about Wen Zichuan's medication.

Cheng Sizhou said that he often suffered from stomach pain when stressed on rainy days, and he reduced the dosage of his fever-reducing medicine for fear that his stomach could not bear it.

Mo Ming had a bag full of emergency medicine. He took out a bullet-sized pill and handed it to Cheng Sizhou: "Otherwise, try this."

"Fever-reducing suppositories?" Cheng Sizhou had seen Ms. Wang before in the pediatric department. She used this kind on children who couldn't take medicine.

"Well, this won't hurt your stomach." After Mo Ming finished speaking, he tactfully left the room and went to the living room.

Cheng Sizhou held the "bullet head" in his hand with an extremely unnatural expression. He kept convincing himself that he was only doing it to cure Zichuan and he did not and could not have any other thoughts.

He reached into the quilt, pulled Zichuan's pajamas down a little, and then slowly pushed the fever-reducing suppository in.

Although Wen Zichuan was asleep, he was obviously feeling uncomfortable. He moved his body as if he wanted to lift the quilt, but Cheng Sizhou took him and the quilt into his arms.

"Brother Zhou..." Menhan felt extremely uncomfortable, and his voice was almost crying when he shouted.

Cheng Sizhou's face rested against his burning forehead, patting him gently like coaxing a child. However, his heart felt like soil soaked in acid rain, sour and swollen. He sighed silently and said, "Brother Zhou is here."

Wen Zichuan got a response and snuggled into his arms even more. Because of the high fever, he called out to Cheng Sizhou while mumbling nonsense.

"I'm not tired, who is tired? I won't sleep! I'll buy a big villa, a big sports car! Brother Zhou... he never said that I despise myself. I have to make money... lots and lots of money..."

Cheng Sizhou knew that the holding position was not very comfortable, but he was afraid that he would make a fuss. So he waited for about a quarter of an hour until the medicine took effect and Zichuan fell into a deep sleep. Only then did he get up and change the cold towel for him.

The rain was still falling outside, but Dr. Mo didn't leave. "What's going on?"

Cheng Sizhou breathed a sigh of relief: "I'm sweating and feeling better. I'll take your temperature later."

"That's good," Dr. Mo glanced out the window, "If you don't mind, I'll wait until the rain subsides before leaving."

"Of course I don't mind," Cheng Sizhou poured him a glass of water. "Thank you so much for this. I can't sleep either. Can I chat with you for a while?"

Mo Ming used to like telling stories when he applied ointment to him. If he wasn't afraid of disturbing the patient today, he would have almost finished his story.

"Now that the clinic is demolished, where are you planning to move to?" Cheng Sizhou asked. If he has a headache or fever in the future and doesn't want to go to the hospital, at least there will be a kind doctor who can help.

"I'm old and don't want to stay in Dengyuan anymore. I'm going back to my hometown to see the patients of my fellow villagers." Mo Ming smiled at him. Although the doctor was not considered old at the age of fifty, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes and his graying hair proved that he had passed his prime.

Cheng Sizhou felt a little sorry: "Judging from your accent, you are from the north?"

Mo Ming nodded: "Northwest, I am from Huaili."

"Huaili people?" Cheng Sizhou thought. What a coincidence! The newly restored Liao Dynasty three-colored terracotta horseback rider was sent by the Huaili City Cultural Relics Bureau. "I heard that Huaili's mushroom stuffed meat is particularly famous. I've been there several times on business, but I've never had it once."

"Huai Li's isn't authentic. Do you know Mutao Town? My parents live in town, and the mushroom stuffed meat there is truly exceptional." Mo Ming patted his chest proudly, "Next time you come, I'll treat you."

Mutao Town, Huaili City.

Mutao Town is located at the southern foot of Longji Mountain. Although it belongs to Huaili City in terms of administrative division, it is very far away. Even if you drive there, it takes three or four hours, so it is difficult to connect the two places consciously.

The theft of the ancient tomb in Beiling Village happened twenty-two years ago. Mo Ming is from Mutao Town, so is it possible that he knows some details?

Cheng Sizhou felt that he had been focusing on the broken porcelain pieces and the archaeological team, but ignored whether the local residents knew anything.

After all, formal archaeology also requires the conscription of migrant workers to assist with some physical work. Could it be that the foreign tomb-robbing gangs are so powerful that they can go deep into the remote and primitive mountainous areas on their own and transport a large number of cultural relics without anyone noticing?

"Doctor Mo, do you know about the car accident that happened before New Year's Eve?" Cheng Sizhou calmed himself down and asked.

"I heard about it. You said that during that solar term, the mountains were as cold as an ice cave. I don't know why, but they insisted on driving into the mountains. I heard that the forest ranger found out and signaled to stop the car, but the driver ignored it and stepped on the accelerator and hit the checkpoint... Oh! It's like he was possessed by a ghost!" Mo Ming showed a regretful expression.

"The truck was carrying porcelain."

"I'm not sure. But it's not surprising. We've been promoting rural revitalization for the past two years. Experts say the soil there is good, so the government provides subsidies, allowing those who don't have land or can't farm to switch to making ceramics, those kind of handicrafts. I didn't expect them to sell so well."

"Then do you know that an ancient tomb was robbed in Dragon Ridge Mountain twenty-two years ago?"

"Twenty-two years ago?" It was so long ago that Mo Ming was lost in memories. "I was thirty years old and had already come to Dengyuan. I seem to have heard my parents say that a group of archaeologists came to the village and dug holes everywhere. But isn't that archaeology? How does it get connected to tomb robbing?"

"The archaeological team discovered tomb robbers, and by the time they arrived at Beiling Village, the ancient tomb had already been robbed."

"Beiling Village? Where is it?"

"You don't know Beiling Village?"

“Never heard of it.”

"You don't know about Beiling Village, but you know about the ancient tomb?"

"The ancient tomb was discovered by an archaeological team, so we all know about it. However, it's located in a protected forest area, and the road isn't well-maintained, so although we know about it, not many people have ever been there."

Mo Ming's words made Cheng Sizhou alert. If even the natives didn't know about it, how did the name "Beiling Village" get out?

He vaguely remembered that the porcelain exhibit at the Lantern Festival featured a purple-gold-glazed six-handled porcelain gui, with a sign proclaiming "Excavated from the Nameless Tomb of Beiling Village." When Director Zhang's archaeological team arrived at Beiling, there were no villagers. Did they only confirm the name "Beiling Village" after seeing the inscription on the large stone slab outside the village? Had archaeologists never suspected that the inscription on the stone slab wasn't necessarily the village's name?

If there was suspicion but it was later confirmed, then there are three possibilities: first, they have seen Wen Duo's notes; second, they have seen the artifacts in the tomb, such as inscriptions or other written records; third, they have met the villagers of Beiling, and the claim that the building is deserted is a lie.

When he thought of this, Cheng Sizhou felt a sudden shock. While taking Wen Zichuan's temperature, he sent a message to Wen Duo.

He originally believed that someone within the archaeological team had malicious intentions and collaborated with overseas tomb-robbing gangs to excavate ancient tombs. Later, due to uneven distribution of the spoils and increasingly stringent domestic crackdowns, he was forced to carefully cover up the matter for so many years. However, if everyone has no academic objections to the term "Beiling Village," then perhaps there's something wrong with the entire archaeological team.

Not long after, Wen Duo replied. When he submitted the information to the Institute of Archaeology, indicating that he could lead the excavation team again, the institute no longer planned to train him, so he also kept a trick. In any of the information he submitted, he did not mention the three words "Beiling Village" or the specific location of the ancient village and ancient tomb.

Cheng Sizhou asked again: "But you told DES, right?"

Wen Duo was silent for a moment before answering, "Destin was willing to fund me in the name of joint scientific research and to rebuild a team to excavate the ancient tomb. I was deceived by him."

Cheng Sizhou continued: "He did organize a tomb-robbing gang, but you were not the one who funded it."

Wen Duo smiled and said, "From the beginning to the end, they only wanted the information I had. It feels bad to be replaced. If I were the one leading the excavation, I would stay in China. Wouldn't it be natural for you two little ones to follow suit?"

Cheng Sizhou glanced at the sleeping Wen Zichuan and continued typing: "You should be thankful that you were replaced. Otherwise, he would have been implicated by you and would never be able to hold his head up for the rest of his life."

In the second half of the night, the rain gradually subsided. Mo Ming made sure that Wen Zichuan's fever had subsided and he was no longer in danger, so he left.

Before leaving, he earnestly warned Cheng Sizhou not to go and visit the Longji Mountain just because he had heard there was an ancient tomb there. The old people in Mutao said that there were monsters in the mountain and that one would be possessed if he went there!

Cheng Sizhou smiled and walked him downstairs.

By this time, even the most insomniac would feel a little tired. Unfortunately, the newly rented house was a studio apartment with only one room. After a patient occupied his bed, he had nowhere to sleep.

Since there is no place to sleep, then don't sleep.

Cheng Sizhou leaned against the head of the bed, and looked at Wen Zichuan quietly in the light of the night light.

Because of sweating from taking medicine, his hair was sticking to his forehead and his face was pale and bloodless. He was thin to begin with, and now he was so thin that his cheekbones were raised. It was really heartbreaking to look at him.

Cheng Sizhou himself didn't realize that in just a short while, he tossed and turned and sighed several times, wondering how there could be someone in the world who couldn't take care of himself. It had only been a short time since they'd been apart, and his body had already been worn out.

However, he couldn't take care of him like before.

If Zichuan knew what he was going to do, he would definitely try his best to stop him. The result would be that not only would the matter be exposed, but the entire Wen family would also be implicated.

Cheng Sizhou wiped the sweat from Wen Zichuan's forehead and looked at him with gentle and doting eyes, as if silently saying, do you know that you are my biggest weakness?

Wen Zichuan slept uneasily during his illness. Without opening his eyes, he stretched out a pair of sweaty hands from under the quilt and hugged the person beside him: "Brother Zhou..."

Cheng Sizhou was afraid that he would get caught off guard, so he tucked the corner of the quilt in and said, "Brother Zhou is here."

Wen Zichuan snorted, as if he was about to cry: "Brother Zhou, I miss you so much... I miss you so much..."

Cheng Sizhou coaxed him: "Brother Zhou is here, the rain has stopped, you are not afraid anymore, go to sleep well, okay?"

The night was still dark, and he said many unusual things before he finally coaxed him to sleep again.

Cheng Sizhou had a particularly obvious feeling that Zichuan was actually very tired, but he refused to rest. He forced himself to stay awake, and the compulsion became a deep obsession in his subconscious.

At dawn, Wen Zichuan's cell phone suddenly rang, which scared Cheng Sizhou.

Seeing it was Su Zhuo calling, he answered the call for him: "Teacher Wen had a fever last night and is still resting."

Su Zhuo recognized his voice: "Hey, it's Zi Yue... Oh, Teacher Cheng, is Teacher Wen with you? Today is Saturday, and he has a radio drama to record."

"Can I take a leave? He has a fever of 40 degrees Celsius and his throat might be..."

"Is it that serious?!" Su Zhuo was shocked. "I told you not to work non-stop day and night, it will wear you out! Teacher Cheng, please help take care of Teacher Wen first. I'll go and see if I can get some leave. I'll come pick him up a little later."

"Okay, thank you." Cheng Sizhou hung up the phone.