Li Xiang’s haul was also quite substantial—a Shang Dynasty Bronze Taotie Pattern Square Vase, a Warring States Gold and Silver Inlaid Tiger Talisman, a Yuan Dynasty Ji Blue Glaze White Dragon Pattern Plum Bottle... In total, there were several thousand precious Chinese artifacts.
This was just what he had found at the location of the Seven Kings’ Crown, not including the thirty thousand items from the Louvre Museum.
After returning to Erin’s ancestral home, Li Xiang took out the artifacts one by one on the lawn under an oak tree in the large garden, carefully appreciating and handling them. In the morning light, these artifacts seemed to exude a millennium of splendor, making them impossible to put down.
In his warehouse, besides the Chinese artifacts, there were hundreds of thousands of artifacts from other countries, which he couldn’t possibly examine one by one. If he really tried to look through them all, it would take several years.
If he were to video call a certain antique appraisal vlogger who liked to listen to "Spring Courtyard Snow" and let him have a look, the vlogger would probably jump up and scream wildly, "The real deal! The real deal! This is as real as it gets!"
Of course, he couldn’t rule out the possibility of fakes, but at least eighty percent of them were the real deal!
But Li Xiang would never actually call him; he was afraid of frightening the world.
Having acquired so many artifacts, Li Xiang had, if nothing else, begun to develop his own "Eyes of Golden Flame." Now, he could tell at a glance whether an artifact was genuine or fake. It was simply a matter of having seen so many of them.
He picked out several hundred precious artifacts unique to France and gave them to Erin.
"Mr. Armor, you’re so generous." Erin accepted them with a smile. Even for a descendant of the Merovingian Dynasty who had inherited a vast family fortune, these several hundred artifacts still represented a considerable amount of wealth.
Li Xiang had always been a generous person. Besides, he had "acquired" all these artifacts for free, so there was no question of being reluctant to part with them.
He was eating and living in her house, after all; it would be rude not to share a few items.
"Just consider it payment for room and board," Li Xiang joked.
Erin took the artifacts Li Xiang had given her, like a Rococo-style gilt mantel clock and a Byzantine icon painting, wiped them clean one by one, and placed them in the living room and study, instantly adding a touch of elegance to the space.
As they were both Extraordinary Beings, they inevitably exchanged cultivation experiences and sparred with each other. But Li Xiang was a Tier Ten, and his various Superpowers were simply too overpowered; Erin was no match for him at all.
Although Erin could use Metal Manipulation, she couldn’t control Spiritual Soldiers like Li Xiang’s Giant Whale Saint Armor or White Jade Golden Hook Rod. After all, these Extraordinary Items were constantly being nurtured in Li Xiang’s Spiritual Power Vortex, forging an extremely close connection with his Spirit Body and Spiritual Power. They couldn’t be influenced by an outsider.
Li Xiang, with his rich combat experience, gave Erin pointers on fighting techniques, allowing her to improve quickly. In turn, Erin’s cultivation system was completely different from those of the Central Earth, which gave Li Xiang new insights and allowed him to learn a great deal by analogy.
"I’m always drinking your fine wine. Now you can try my Spirit Wine." During dinner, Li Xiang took out a gourd of Spirit Wine to share with Erin. Although Erin could hold her liquor, she usually drank low-alcohol beverages like wine. She was no match for Li Xiang’s 58% alcohol spirit, which was also infused with abundant Spiritual Power. And so, she got drunk and passed out.
Li Xiang carried her to her bedroom and then left.
Erin: "..." ’I played drunk for nothing.’
The weekend finally arrived. As expected, most of the police, museum staff, and security personnel were on vacation. After all, the artifacts belonged to the state, but their vacation time was their own.
Li Xiang planned a midnight operation, determined to sweep through all of Paris.
Erin hugged him from behind. "Mr. Armor, can you take your little princess Erin on an adventure with you?"
After a moment’s thought, Li Xiang gave her a suit of Obsidian Battle Armor to conceal her identity.
Erin actually had her own set of Alchemy Armor, a classical Western Alchemy Creature, but its features were too distinctive. Besides, it wasn’t as high-tier as his Obsidian Battle Armor. He could leave after the heist, but Erin had to continue living in France, and Li Xiang didn’t want to cause her any trouble.
"Thank you, Mr. Armor! This Battle Armor is so beautiful, I love it!" Erin put on the Battle Armor Li Xiang had given her and twirled in front of a full-length mirror, showing off her graceful curves. This was because the armor was a lightweight, female model, designed specifically for women with good figures.
The two of them set out together. Li Xiang led her as they "visited" the major museums he had previously staked out, one by one: the Guimet National Museum of Asian Arts, the Fontainebleau Palace, the Cernuschi Museum, the Red House in Paris, and the Quai Branly Museum. Another several hundred thousand artifacts were added to his collection.
Among them, the Guimet National Museum of Asian Arts held the second-largest collection of Chinese artifacts after the Louvre Museum, with about twenty thousand pieces covering Buddhist art, bronzes, ceramics, and more.
For example, the Liangzhu Culture Jade Cong (4,500 years old), the Shang Dynasty Bronze Elephant Vase (the Guimet’s crowning jewel and the world’s largest animal-shaped bronze vase), Dunhuang Silk Paintings (like the "Amitabha’s Western Pure Land Transformation Map," plundered by Paul Pelliot), a Western Han Bronze Decorative Plate with Gold Inlay, and the Sui and Han White Jade Statue of Ananda.
Many Chinese people have never even seen these artifacts, yet in the West, they are displayed for all the world to see. Some luxury companies have even drawn "fashion elements" from these artifacts, and the resulting products sell like hotcakes, highly sought after by consumers.
The Chinese Pavilion at the Fontainebleau Palace, on the other hand, was built specifically to house artifacts looted from the Yuanming Garden, established in 1863 by Empress Eugénie, wife of Napoleon III.
The key artifacts inside included a Gilt Buddhist Sarira Pagoda (originally from the Shravasti City section of Yuanming Garden, inlaid with emeralds), a Kesi Tapestry of the Buddhas of the Three Ages (a relic from a Qing Dynasty royal Buddhist hall, with extremely high artistic value), and a Cloisonné Qilin (from Empress Eugénie’s private collection), among others.
The poetic Chinese name for Fontainebleau was coined by the writer Mr. Zhu Ziqing. The original French word, "Fontainebleau," evolved from "fontaine belle eau," which means "beautiful spring." In French, it’s a rather ordinary term, but Zhu Ziqing’s translation instantly elevated its "Mental Realm," or artistic conception.
His translation not only preserved the original French meaning of "beautiful spring" but also imbued the name with a poetic beauty, evoking images of crimson maple leaves and glistening dew.
Li Xiang’s "blitzkrieg" was swift and decisive. In a single night, he swept through five of Paris’s major museums, leaving, as the saying goes, "no stone unturned and no treasure behind." This time, the incident caused a massive uproar not just in Paris and France, but throughout Europe and even the entire world, sparking widespread public debate.
CNN was broadcasting live from a protest in front of the Palace of Versailles, where an elderly professor was seen clutching an empty display case and crying until he fainted.
The director of the Guimet Museum roared, pointing at a hole in the exhibition hall’s ceiling, "Even the sixteenth-century ceiling fresco was scraped off! This is artistic terrorism!"
Seeing these news clips, Li Xiang couldn’t help but sneer. ’You’re the ones who scraped things off a hundred years ago. If you’ve got the guts, come and stop this "terrorist"!’
The citizens of Paris marched with signs demanding, "Return the Mona Lisa." That’s right, Li Xiang had also swiped the original Mona Lisa. ’Now you can experience the feeling of having your treasures plundered.’
One influencer Photoshopped the Mysterious Armored Man to look like Santa Claus carrying a sack, with the caption, "This year’s gifts are souvenirs from the Louvre." This person was practically a prophet; they had guessed Li Xiang’s future plans.
Because that was exactly what Li Xiang was planning to do—not for Christmas, but for the Spring Festival. He intended to distribute some of the antiques he’d plundered as year-end bonuses to his most trusted followers.
Not too many, just one or two pieces per person. They would all be European artifacts, full of exotic charm, for them to take home as decorative pieces.
As for the Chinese artifacts, he felt it was best to keep them in his warehouse for the time being. Once the commotion died down, he would consider whether it was necessary to hand them over to the state.
However, with the Apocalypse approaching, handing them over to the state would be useless. It would be better to keep them safe in his Otherworldly Warehouse and put them on display again after peace returned to the world.
To a certain extent, artifacts represent a nation’s history and heritage; they are "the path from whence we came." If they weren’t exhibited for the people to observe and learn from, but were instead kept forever in the Otherworldly Warehouse, they would lose much of their meaning.
A hot post appeared on Reddit: "On the Correct Way to Experience French Civilization."
There was a hilarious comment in the thread where a user suggested, "Install a vending machine on the Eiffel Tower! Put in a coin and get a blind box with a stolen artifact!" The comment was accompanied by a picture of the Broken-armed Venus holding up a QR code to beg for money.
Another post, also with a funny image, was titled, "On the French Police’s New Anti-Theft Strategy." The caption read: "Suggestion: Install a revolving door on the Eiffel Tower and check tickets three times an hour!" The accompanying picture showed the Mona Lisa holding a sign that said, "No Teleporting."
On Twitter, #ArtHeist was trending. A Spanish user made a short video of the scaffolding on Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia automatically dismantling itself, with the caption: "Thanks to the thief for saving us the completion time!"
A Berlin art blogger Photoshopped the Brandenburg Gate into a giant shipping box, its columns covered in "Fragile" labels. The caption: "Scheduled for next-day delivery."
A popular TikTok challenge: #ArtifactDisappearanceDance. Participants would suddenly vanish, only to reappear holding a toilet plunger as an "Eastern Mystic Scepter."
The front page of Le Figaro: A photo of the Minister of Culture kneeling before an empty display case was Photoshopped with a speech bubble: "Actually, we had prepared 3D-printed replicas..."
A hot topic on a Seoul forum: "The Mysterious Man’s ancestors are from Jeonnam Province! Proof: His method of stealing artifacts is identical to the steps for pickling kimchi!"
An Indian netizen commented: "The god Shiva came to me in a dream last night. He said France should use water from the Ganges River to purify the cursed museums!"
Back in China, some people were also stirring the pot. The trending hashtag was #MysteriousManReturnCountdown: "The Dunhuang Academy has already prepared climate-controlled display cases!" It had 2.38 million likes, and the top comment was: "Suggest using the special customs channel. Cash on delivery for shipping!"
The Weibo topic #PleaseMysteriousManMailTheArtifactsToTheForbiddenCity had over a billion views!
Before long, however, these short videos and posts were deleted, and the relevant bloggers were "invited for a talk."
Li Xiang was filled with a sense of accomplishment, feeling as though he had finally reported good news to his ancestors. Of course, a vast number of artifacts were still scattered across Europe—in the British Museum, for example.