Just yesterday, the museum had acquired a batch of artifacts unearthed from Mount San Juan Teotihuaca. The news had made national headlines, drawing in waves of visitors from all over the country. Tickets had become nearly impossible to get.
If it weren't for Lila pulling strings, there was no way William could've just strolled in like this.
Before they entered, Lila had made it clear to David—they'd be touring separately.
David had agreed, at least on the surface. But the moment they stepped inside, he started trailing them like a shadow.
Lila didn't want to make a scene, so she didn't force him to leave.
William, meanwhile, wandered through the museum in silence, eyes scanning everything. He paused in front of nearly every artifact, as if deep in thought.
Lila played the role of guide, standing beside him and explaining the history behind each piece.
"This is a Dragon-Handled Blue-and-White Cup from the Song Dynasty," she said, pointing to the porcelain piece displayed in a glass case. "It's a type of Jun ware. Do you know about Jun ware? It originated in the Tang Dynasty and flourished during the Song. That makes it over 1,300 years old. Starting with Emperor Huizong, it was designated as an imperial treasure—strictly for royal use, forbidden to the public. And this particular cup is the only one of its kind left in the world. It's considered a true national treasure."
William gave it a glance and said mildly, "It's just a slightly prettier cup. And it's not the only one."
"You're joking, right? Just a slightly prettier cup?" Lila stared at him. "Do you even know what you're looking at?"
David, who'd been hovering behind them, finally couldn't hold back his sneer. "That Dragon-Handled Cup is absolutely one of a kind. If another one ever surfaced, it'd make international news. This isn't just some trinket—it's a priceless artifact."
William turned and gave David a look—calm, expressionless, but with a faint trace of pity. Like he was watching someone proudly recite the wrong answer.
To most people, sure, a Song Dynasty Jun ware cup was a rare treasure. But to William, it really was just a decent-looking cup. Nothing more.
David's fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to punch this smug hillbilly right in the face. But he forced himself to hold back—for now.
Lila didn't know what to say. She could only chalk it up to William being from the mountains, probably never having seen anything like this before. He just didn't understand the value.
William, meanwhile, seemed to be reminiscing. "Speaking of cups, I used to have a fully transparent one. It was pretty nice."
He was thinking of a crystal cup he'd used over two thousand years ago—clear as glass, simple and elegant. He'd always liked things with clean lines.
"Transparent?" Lila blinked. Yep, that confirmed it—William's taste probably peaked at basic glassware.
But still… something didn't add up. Her grandfather wouldn't go out of his way for someone who was just a clueless mountain bumpkin.
David snorted. "Glass cups are great. Really suit your vibe."
William glanced at him and said, "If I remember right, that cup was made of crystal. Glassware didn't come around until a few hundred years ago, right?" As he spoke, he pulled out his phone and started searching.
"Crystal?" David laughed. "What, you're saying your cup was some ancient Roman crystal goblet dug up in Italy?"
William scrolled through the search results, found a photo of a Roman-era crystal cup, and smiled faintly. "Yeah, that looks about right."
David stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "Lila, this guy's not right in the head, is he?"
Lila shot David a cold look and didn't bother responding. Instead, she turned to William and said, "The artifacts from the mysterious tomb at Mount San Juan Teotihuaca are just up ahead. Let's go take a look."
Of course Lila didn't believe a word William had said. That whole "crystal cup from ancient Rome" bit? Total nonsense. She didn't even bother responding to David anymore, but he just wouldn't let it go.
Still, William was her guest. And David constantly targeting him like this was just plain petty.
When David noticed the shift in Lila's expression, he finally shut up—but the way he looked at William was practically dripping with resentment.
If it weren't for this guy, he wouldn't have made such a fool of himself in front of Lila.
"Mount San Juan Teotihuaca…" William murmured as he walked ahead, eyes scanning the artifacts on display. He let out a quiet sigh.
These weren't just relics to him—they were his personal collection.
He'd built dozens of tombs like the one on Mount San Juan Teotihuaca over the centuries. Time had buried most of them. Some he couldn't even remember the locations of anymore.
Ahead, two elderly men in reading glasses stood in front of a large stone tablet, deep in discussion.
"I heard from Mr. White that this stele dates back to the ancient era," one of them said. "But the first few lines—no one can even recognize the script. No idea what it says. And the material… definitely not from Earth."
"Are you saying this might be alien?" the other asked, half-joking.
"No, no, look closer. Besides those strange, unidentifiable characters, there's also oracle bone script, Gothic lettering, even modern Copperplate."
William stepped up beside them, eyes fixed on the stone. His gaze turned distant.
This stele… was one of the few things he'd always kept with him.
Every time he went into hibernation, he'd carve a few lines into it—notes about interesting events, people he'd met, things worth remembering.
"Ryan, doesn't this read like… a diary?" one of the old men asked.
"Yeah, it really does. And after those first few lines, the rest seems to trace the entire history of the world."
"I mean, look at this—'A foolish child who somehow unified the world.'"
"Then here—'Met a boy named Columbus. Seemed promising. Loved the sea. Taught him a set of navigation techniques. Should be enough to help him chase his dream.'"
"And this part—'Didn't expect him to find this continent while looking for me. More and more people came. Built nations. Ridiculous.'"
The two old men kept translating, their voices growing more and more unsettled. A museum staffer stood nearby, frantically jotting everything down.
It wasn't just the translators—everyone listening was stunned.
The writing didn't read like a historical record. It read like someone casually jotting down their life story. Their very long life story.
"'Couldn't bear to watch the world fall into chaos. Meant only to warn Japan, but went too far. Must never act so recklessly again.'"
"…This part's in Copperplate script," one of the men said, voice shaking. "That would place it in the 17th or 18th century."
The two old men nearly had heart attacks on the spot.
They'd only translated a portion of the text, but already a terrifying idea was forming in their minds.
What if… this wasn't a collection of stories?
What if it was all true?
What if someone had lived from the ancient era—maybe even earlier—all the way to the present day?
What if someone had actually achieved immortality?