In the late autumn of the Hudson River, turbid waves surge in the biting cold wind. The dark green waves,entangle; carry along; coerceing the sediment and humus deposited at the bottom of the river, tirelessly beat against the rusted metal hull of the salvage vessel "Explorer", making a dull and rhythmicImpact sound, as if the pulse of the ancient river is beating. Ling Anlan wrapped her windproof jacket tightly around herself, standing alone at the edge of the Bumpydeck,let; allow the salty river wind howl past, blowing her carefully combed shoulder-length short hair into disarray. Her gaze was firmly locked on the distance, where a huge crane was slowly lifting a heavy object just salvaged from the riverbed. When the rusted bronze fragment, covered with dark green algae and thickMud, was finally carefully placed on the deck workbench covered with a non-slip mat, Ling Anlan's fingertips, wearing special waterproof gloves, touched the cold and rough surface with a tremor of almost religious devotion. At the moment when her fingertips touched the bronze, it was as if an invisible key had been inserted into the lockhole of time, and with a soft "click", the three-hundred-year-long barrier of time suddenly cracked a deepgap before her eyes. The dust of history and the light and shadow of reality violently intertwined and tumbled in thegap, and the ancient secret, like a sleeping behemoth, was slowly opening its eyes.
"My God, this isIt's simply impossible..." The voice of diver Mike Johnson cameintermittently through the underwater communication device, with uncontrollable astonishment and incredible trembling, buzzing in the closed oxygen mask, severely distorted. The experienced senior diver had just finished a grueling forty-minute underwater operation. At this moment, he was dragging his tired body, stumbling out of the cabin door. He took off his heavy helmet, revealing a facedistort by river mud and astonishment, gasping for breath, histurbid eyesDie staring at the fragment on the workbench. A high-brightness searchlight had long been set up, and the dazzling white light focused precisely on the bronze fragment like a sharp sword, dispelling the surrounding shadows. Under theStrong light, the rusted and mottled outer side of the fragment faintly showed traces left during casting, while its inner side presented a completely different scene - there, a group of finepatterncompletely inconsistent with the overall rust degree of the bell bodysuddenly emerged. It was a phoenix with wings spread, ready to fly, its posture lifelike, wings stretched out, and the outline of each feather was cleverly outlined by the ancient Taoist secret texts that Ling Anlan wasToo familiar. The strokes of the runes were delicate, and the transitions were full of mysterious rhythm, as if written by an ancient calligraphy master.
Ling Anlan's temples throbbed violently, and an inexplicable thrill from the depths of her soul rose uncontrollably from the bottom of her heart, quickly spreading to her limbs, making her fingertips slightly numb. As the youngest professor of semiotics in the history of Columbia University, at the age of only thirty, she had already made a name for herself in the field of symbol interpretationrely on her extraordinary talent, unusual insight, and years of unremitting efforts. Her research room was piled with mysterious symbol rubbings, ancient rare books, and replicas of various unearthed cultural relics from all over the world. However, the phoenix totem in front of her, which was formed by deforming and reorganizing the text fragments of Chapter 42 of "Tao Te Ching" - "Tao produces one, one produces two, two produces three, three produces all things", made her feel an unprecedented shock and confusion. What was even more hair-raising was that the runes densely packed between the phoenix's wings, as the river water vapor continued to evaporate and the angle of the searchlight's light changed slightly, faintly emitted a faint purple light like ghost fire, flickeringindefinite, as if breathing on the bronze surface with life. When her fingertips wearing latex gloves unconsciouslyRub against the rune twisted like the character water under the left wing of the phoenix due to focused observation, the entire originally icy cold bronze fragment unexpectedly became scalding hotout of the blue, and the heatPass over through the thin latex gloves was so high that it almost burned her skin.
"Step back! Danger!" Ling Anlan reacted as fast as lightning. Years of academic training had given her a keen intuition, which was now issuing a shrill alarm. Shesuddenlystretched out her hand, grabbed Mike's oxygen tube that hadn't had time to berecall from the workbench, and the huge pulling force made Mike, who wasunprepared, stagger back a few steps, almost falling. At this critical moment, an unexpected change suddenly occurred! The surface of the bronze fragment seemed to be injected with life by some mysterious force, and the originally dim metallic luster quickly faded, replaced by a deep black color. Then, a line of clear Arabic numerals - "1776", as if written by an invisible hand, emerged abruptly. That was the year when the American "Declaration of Independence" was signed, a pivotal year in North American history. Before the two could recover from this astonishing discovery, the originally static black runes on the fragment began toCrazy wriggling, decompose, and reorganize like living creatures with life. The tiny black lines, like countless frightened little snakes, chased, entangled, and frolicked on the bronze surface, the whole process was so fast that it was dazzling. Finally, after a dizzying series of changes, all the runes suddenly stopped moving, andHold a fixed poseinto an extremelyeerie pattern: on the left side of the pattern was the Masonic symbol, representing the most influential secret society in North America - an all-seeing eye surrounded by a triangular frame, with sharp eyes, as if it couldpenetrate all secrets in the world; on the right side was the Bagua diagram originating from ancient the East, containing the laws of the operation of all things in the universe, with the eight trigrams of Qian, Kun, Kan, Li, Zhen, Xun, Gen, and Dui clearly distinguishable. These two iconic patterns, representing Western mysticism and ancient Eastern wisdom respectively, were now perfectlyNot bad; and integrated together, forming a strange scene where Eastern and Western mysticism collided and were eerily harmonious. Almost at the same moment when thiseerie pattern was finally formed, the previouslyNot bad; calm surface of the Hudson River suddenlyBlustering. The river water, centered on the workbench where the bronze fragment was placed, began to rotate and sinkout of the blue, quickly forming a hugeVortex; with a diameter of several meters. The water flow at the center of theVortex; rotated rapidly,issuea low "whimpering" roar. The powerful suction, like an invisible giant handhibernate at the bottom of the river, instantlybreakthrough the protective railing of the deck, andsuddenlydragged Ling Anlan and Mike, who wereTotally unprepared; forward. The two didn't even have time to let out a complete exclamation before they wereroll up by the irresistible force, like two insignificant fallen leaves, instantly sucked into the bottomless, pitch-black riverbed. The icy cold river water and boundless darkness instantly swallowed their consciousness.