When the bronze door knocker was swollen due to the rain, Tang Ren took out a Tai Chi mirror and stuck it to the crack of the door: "At 3:30 of the Yin hour, thunder will be heard in the Zhen position..." Before he finished speaking, Su Chen had already cracked the electronic lock with a decoder. Qin Feng held his shoulders and shook his head, and his fingertips soaked in rain drew an "X" on the door frame - the light spot of the infrared alarm was jumping at the threshold.

"Look at me!" Tang Ren suddenly ripped off his Tang suit, revealing his belly covered with warm baby stuff. He started tap dancing on the spot, and the Five Emperors' coins hanging around his waist jingled. From the second floor, the guards cursed, and a half-smoked cigarette butt was thrown out of the window. Su Chen took the opportunity to throw out the magnetic jammer, and the red light of the alarm went out.

The smell of ammonia from the basement freezer hit him, and Qin Feng's flashlight swept across the piles of antique clocks. Tang Ren's compass suddenly turned upside down, leading him to crash into the cloisonné vase in the corner. The moment the porcelain vase fell to the ground and shattered, the secret door mechanism clicked, revealing a ten-square-meter secret room behind.

"Qian...Secret compartment in Qian Palace!" Qin Feng's mirror reflected a cold light, and the panel showed that the building structure was abnormal - this secret room was stuck in the stress blind spot of the load-bearing wall.

Su Chen put on gloves and ran his fingertips over the teak panels on the walls of the secret room. Suddenly, he touched a slight bulge in the southeast corner. In the secret compartment he pried open was a damaged sailing log. On the record page of July 16, 1946, the ink pen writing was stained by the sea water into strange ripples: "...saw the ghost of the treasure ship, and a gilded Buddha stood on the deck..."

"This is the diary of the first mate of the 'Hai'an'!" Tang Ren's folding fan almost pierced the paper, "My great-grandfather used to...eh?" The tip of the fan picked up a pawn ticket sandwiched between the pages, and the column for mortgage clearly read "Gilded Buddha Statue of the Ming Dynasty".

Qin Feng suddenly pulled Su Chen's portable microscope, and the brown spots on the edge of the diary showed fingerprints at 200 times magnification. He moved his trembling fingers across the tablet screen, and the database comparison result popped up - it was the grandfather of the cold storage manager.

"Three generations of conspiracy." Su Chen used ultraviolet light to illuminate the pawn ticket, and the Thai address written with invisible potion gradually appeared. When Tang Ren took a closer look, the Zheng He navigational tattoo on the back of his neck suddenly turned red, completely overlapping with the coordinates of the ancient wharf in the address.

The sirens were getting closer and closer. Tang Ren suddenly stuffed his diary into his trousers and said, "Retreat!" He turned around and knocked over the antique shelf. Amid the ringing of clocks in the room, twelve small golden Buddhas fell from the secret compartment. Qin Feng quickly caught one of them. The sextant pattern engraved on the base overlapped with the star map on Su Chen's screen saver.

In the dark alley, three people ran wildly on the puddles. Tang Ren pulled out the diary from his waistband while running, and the yellowed pages fluttered in the rain. Suddenly, a photo slipped out - a black-and-white photo from 1946, in which the crew of the "Hai'an" were kneeling around a gilded Buddha, but the position of the Buddha's head was blank as if it were new.

"Buddha... Buddha head!" Qin Feng suddenly stopped, and the map on the phone was located at the largest gold jewelry workshop on Tang Street. Su Chen took out the ice crystal residue from the evidence bag, and the strange reflection of gold flakes reflected under the street light - it was not gilding at all, but modern nano-coating technology.

The rainstorm came down again, and Tang Ren's gold-threaded Tang suit was soaked with water. He shook his wet sleeves and pointed at the neon lights of the workshop: "Fire in the Kan position must be the place where gold is melted and transformed!" Inside the glass window, the technician was feeding the gold ingots to the laser engraving machine, and the blue beams looked like will-o'-the-wisp in the rain.