(T/N: the title in this chapter is an idiom in Chinese, often used when someone tries to hide something but inadvertently reveals it through their actions or words.)

  The worn-out archway was tied with a thin hemp rope, the end of which hung down, forming a loop knot. Chu Qi stared at the swaying rope in front of him, his eyes wide open, as he stretched his neck towards it.

  The scattered flour spread across the entire table, with several clumps of snow-white dough pressed firmly onto the well-worn wooden board. A knife cut through the dough into several pieces. Li Bai skillfully kneaded the dough with his hands, flour dusting his forehead, face, body, and arms. The water in the pot had already come to a boil, making a "gurgling" sound. Li Bai extended his right hand to lift the steamer lid, then one by one, he threw the kneaded dough into it.

  The fmes burned fiercely, bringing the water in the pot to a boil, with steam rising intermittently from the steamer. Li Bai wiped the sweat from his forehead. It was nearly the third watch of the night. Li Bai propped up the half-old window and gnced outside. The street was empty; everything was quiet. He lowered the window again.

  The steamed buns were ready, their fragrant aroma wafting through the gaps in the steamer. Li Bai reached out and lifted the lid. The fluffy white buns filled the entire space inside the steamer. He pressed down on them, and they were soft and warm to the touch. Li Bai nodded with satisfaction. He took a copper key from his pocket, turned around, and walked to a corner of the kitchen, where a rge square box made of peach wood stood. A copper lock was firmly attached to the box.

  With a sharp "click," the lock opened. Li Bai skillfully took out a gleaming silver dish from the box and pced it on the table. He then carefully took each steamed bun from the steamer and pced them one by one onto the dish. Everything was ready. Li Bai held the steaming dish of buns with both hands and cautiously walked to the center of the courtyard.

  The courtyard was cluttered with various pieces of old wood, much of it gathered by Li Bai for firewood. Among the debris was an old handcart, quietly waiting in one of the corners of the yard.

  Li Bai pced the silver dish onto the handcart, then took a bck, thin cloth and covered it. Gripping the wooden handles with both hands, he applied some force, and the cart let out a discordant squeak.

  The cart creaked as it moved through the dimly lit streets, the warm, fragrant steam wafting from under the cloth, filling the air.

  There was no one on the streets, and all the shops had long closed. The only source of light was a pale, flickering white ntern hanging beside the cart. Li Bai focused intently as he pushed the cart, crossing the street and making a turn, eventually stopping at the far end of a narrow alley.

  In front of the cart stood a simple archway, painted in bck and white, its peeling scraps of paint littering the ground. The archway was low, barely reaching the height of one and a half people. Above it, faint and barely legible characters could be seen, etched into the worn surface.

  Behind the archway was a wall. The wall was remarkably clean, so spotless that it seemed untouched by dust.

  Then, the sound of three knocks echoed in the quiet night, signaling the arrival of the third watch, the dead of night.

  Li Bai lifted the heavy cloth on the cart, and the strong aroma of steamed buns quickly filled the entire alley. He carefully picked up the silver ptter, bowing his head in reverence as he pced it beneath the archway. Afterward, he kneeled on the ground and kowtowed three times, each one with a sharp, resonant sound. Then he stood up, quickly covered the cart again with the cloth, turned around, and left at once, not daring to look back.

  The sound of the cart′s wheels echoed again on the street, continuing until Li Bai disappeared into his steamed bun shop.

  Kong Da had remained silent, his eyes fixed on every movement of Li Bai.

  He saw Li Bai knead the dough.

  He also saw him steaming the buns.

  And more importantly, he had witnessed Li Bai, with a mysterious air, pushing the cart into the narrow alley.

  Kong Da was a thief—a thief of anything and everything. He had no self, no dignity, no principles, no goals. If he saw something valuable, his hand would stretch out to take it, even if it was worth only a single coin.

  Kong Da was certain that the silver ptter was worth far more than just a coin.

  Running his hand along the cold wall, Kong Da turned into the narrow alley. He had seen with his own eyes how Li Bai had pced the silver ptter, filled with steamed buns, beneath the archway. Although he didn't understand why Li Bai had done this, he thought Li Bai was nothing but a complete fool. It amused him, and he felt lucky for the discovery he had made tonight.

  Kong Da remembered that the silver ptter had been pced right here, but his hands had already traced the cold stone ground for more than ten times, and yet he couldn't even touch the edge of the ptter.

  "Hmm, strange. I clearly saw it right here," Kong Da muttered to himself. He scratched his head and suddenly remembered that he had a fire starter in his pocket. He quickly took it out and lit it.

  But the silver ptter was indeed gone, along with the steaming hot buns that had been on it.

  Kong Da was speechless. He was sure he hadn't made a mistake, and he was confident that no one else had entered the alley besides Li Bai just now.

  As he held up the fire starter, his eyes caught a line of words written on the clean wall.

  "Here′s where the three hundred taels of silver are hidden."

  Kong Da burst into ughter. Who would be so bored as to write something like that? He stood up and dusted off his clothes. Since the silver ptter was gone, there was no point in staying any longer tonight. He figured he might as well find a pce to rest and look for a new target tomorrow. Just as he was about to turn and leave, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

  "Here′s where the three hundred taels of silver are hidden." Kong Da, of course, knew the story. Could there really be such a fool in the world? Kong Da lightly tapped his finger on his chin, wondering if he should try it—maybe there really was something hidden here. With this thought, he walked closer to the wall.

  The archway and the wall were very close, only about half a person's height apart. In between, there was nothing but a patch of ground covered in accumuted dirt.

  Kong Da crouched down, holding the fire starter in his mouth, and began to dig at the yellow earth with his fingers.

  The soil was loose, not compacted, and Kong Da's heart skipped a beat—perhaps there really was something hidden here! His excitement grew, and he sped up his digging. Before long, a white object began to emerge from beneath the yer of dirt.

  Silver! It was really silver! Kong Da was so shocked that he almost dropped the fire starter from his mouth. He hurriedly used his fingers to dig around, making sure the ingot of silver was fully exposed.

  Ten taels! This ingot was at least ten taels! Kong Da could barely catch his breath in his excitement. He was ecstatic, handling the silver carefully, terrified that it might disappear at any moment. Although it wasn′t the three hundred taels mentioned on the wall, this ten-tael ingot was more than enough for Kong Da to live on for several days.

  The silver was mostly intact, with just a few minor damages, but its weight seemed to be nearly accurate. At the bottom of the ingot, Kong Da noticed a character was carved. He tilted his head, studying the engraving closely.

  "This... ah!" Kong Da's scream echoed through the entire night, sharp and chilling like a gust of cold wind in the dead of winter.

  Blood dripped onto the snowy white silver ingot, staining the deep, engraved character.

  `冥′

  (T/N: Míng, means deep, dark or profound.)