It was the year 1934, Sexagenary Year of the Wood Element and Zodiac Year of the Dog on the Chinese Calendar, on the first month of autumn, where it all began; at the tomb of the Bian Clan alongside Huan Xiang River which flowed at the foot of Mount Yan. The swift galloping of horses broke the silence of the night; a few horse bandits were riding fast, holding flaming torches in their hands.

One of the band was barking hoarsely, ordering his men to round up the family who had been the keepers to the graves before restraining them with ropes, gagging them and covering their heads with black-colored bags. A few of the men tied a thick mugwort rope to a tree before lighting it on fire. Some of the rest ran for the cluster of graves of the mausoleum of the Bian Clan, with shovels, pickaxes, and other tools ready.

Not far away, a large man, with a face full of beard, sat on his horse. With proud eyes and looking stern threatening, the man, who seemed to be the leader of the horseback villains, pointed to a mound and spoke to the man who was barking orders. “Send some of our men to take that vantage point. Fire some shots and warn the villagers off. We do not need curious onlookers crowding around here!” The man with a hoarse voice replied meekly to his chief, “But sir, will the gunshots not attract any soldiers nearby?” The chief said, waving off his subordinate’s fear dismissively, “Nay. This area is the demilitarized zone as sanctioned by the Tanggu Truce. Neither the Japanese or the Chinese military will be around for a radius of a hundred miles from here. Tell the men to relax and do as they will!” “Yes, sir!” His lieutenant croaked an assent and ran off, heading towards the clump of graves. “Wait,” called the chief again, “Have men guarding every road that leads to here. They are to drive away anyone who comes near. Shoot them if they must!”

“Bang! Bang! Bang!” Three gunshot sounds were heard from a distance. The people from the village nearby all slammed their doors shut, fearing that trouble would come knocking. The light spots shuttled through the cluster of graves and the smoke of burning the mugwort wafted far away from here.

“Boss, this is not the one!”, “So is this too!”… Numerous reports came from the bandits who were plundering the graves. They have not found the one they were after. The chief took out a pocket watch and looked into it through the gilded illumination of the firelight. He leaped down his horse and walked quickly to his men still digging the graves. “Time is running short! We must find it before dawn!” The chief shouted to his lieutenant. Just then, another bandit came over to him, looking more mild-mannered than the rest although he carried a holstered pistol over his back. Seemed to be the strategist of the group, the man spoke to his chief, “At this rate, Boss, we will not find it even when daybreak comes. The item we’re looking for is ancient, so we can spot the place according to the age of coffins. If we filter out newer coffins, we can find the oldest graves as soon as possible.” The band of robbers then split into groups, moving from several directions as directed by the strategist who would check the age of coffins to decide which tomb to be dug further.

“There’s a stone tablet here!” One of the robbers cried out loud. The strategist hurried over and dusted off the dirt from the tablet. “It’s an epitaph! Let’s see the date…”

“It’s among these graves here, Boss! The year inscribed here is not more than thirty years from the year of the item we’re looking for.”

…

“We’ve found it!” A few of the men whisked off the soot from the burial items in the grave and filled them into a bag. The men then lifted a coffin from the grave and threw it outside. Another man, tall and large, hopped into the hole and pull a knife out of his puttees to test the earth beneath the coffin. He rose to his feet, saying, “This is it.” A few more men leaped into the hole. “Enlarge it, but do not damage the item!” Their leader warned. Carefully, the men slowly shoveled off the earth, revealing a trench filled with fresh soil. Digging further, they found the item that they had been seeking: an old and gnarly casket made of wood. The casket was cautiously removed from the hole. Once opened, they found a bundle of silk within, wrapping around a sheathed sword.

“We’ve got it!” One of the men presented the sword to his chief. He drew the sword for just a little to examine its blade, his eyes glimmering under the reflection of the firelights from the steel blade. Satisfied, the chief chuckled and called for his lieutenant, signaling for the men to get ready to leave. The lieutenant barked, “Let us go, brothers!” and the robbers left on their horses, fleeing the vicinity with the bounties they had found from the graves.