111: Auspicious start to construction, a stone tablet unexpectedly appears.

One month later, Quanzhou, the shore of the East Sea.

The global situation remained turbulent. Discussions about the "Zhuojin Civilization" had not cooled down, and various countries were bickering at the United Nations; the specially established investigation committee did nothing but argue every day. Osiris's "Eternal Hand" organization seemed to have vanished into thin air and never resurfaced; this eerie silence actually made people feel uneasy.

And Lin Feng and Wang Dalong could finally step out of that heavily guarded secret base and breathe in the air of freedom.

At this moment, the two were standing on a plot of cleared, open land. The salty sea breeze blew over, carrying the scent of seawater and the fragrance of soil, which made one feel refreshed.

Before them, Old Man Bai Jingshan was full of energy, his face glowing. He pointed at a huge design plan and passionately introduced his masterpiece, completely immersed in it.

"Feng Garden! The Garden of Listening to the Wind!" the old man's voice was loud and clear. "Our garden faces south, and I've specifically channeled in running water. To the east, I've designed a Sea-Viewing Gallery for you, Mr. Lin, ensuring you face the sea with spring flowers in bloom! To the west, I've stacked artificial mountains as a barrier to block the wind and add scenery. The main courtyard, I've named 'Meditation Study,' is for your quiet cultivation. Next to it is the chubby boy's 'Pavilion of Listening to Waves,' guaranteed to let him fall asleep to the sound of the waves every day!"

Speaking of this garden, it was truly at light speed. All demolition and approval procedures were given the green light by "the higher-ups," and the speed was simply heaven-defying, incredibly fast, and everything was settled in the blink of an eye. Today was the day for the official start of construction on "Listening Wind Garden."

There were no firecrackers or ribbon-cutting ceremonies at the scene. Just Lin Feng, Wang Dalong, Old Bai, the project manager from the construction team, and a few core workers. It was simple yet solemn.

The project manager checked his watch and then the sky.

"The auspicious hour has arrived! Begin work!"

At his command, not far away, a brand-new excavator emitted a low rumble. The giant steel bucket slowly rose, glinting coldly in the sunlight. Then, it steadily dug its first scoop of earth at the center point of the foundation.

Everyone was wearing a smile, watching this historic moment. This was not just the birth of a garden, but the fulfillment of a promise and a witness to a friendship.

However, the bucket had just gone less than three meters deep into the ground.

"Clang—!"

A dull yet sharp metal scraping sound suddenly came from underground. That sound was like a heavy hammer striking everyone's hearts, making their eardrums buzz. The noise was so loud that everyone's hearts jumped, and their smiles froze on their faces.

The experienced excavator operator reacted extremely quickly, instinctively stopping his actions and turning off the engine immediately.

He leaned his head out of the cab, his face tense: "There's something down there!"

Everyone immediately gathered around, their expressions somewhat grave. The project manager came to his senses and quickly directed the workers to take up shovels and carefully clear away the loose soil dug up by the excavator.

The soil was removed bit by bit, and everyone held their breath, their eyes fixed on the ground.

Soon, a large, flat, bluish-black stone slab slowly revealed itself.

It lay quietly in the soil, with clear traces of manual carving on the edges, unlike natural rock. That shape and that oppressive aura, like the lid of a giant coffin buried for unknown years, gave people an indescribable sense of weight.

Old Bai also leaned in; he first scrutinized it carefully, and his expression became serious: "It's a stone tablet! Or is it a tombstone?" A veteran of many experiences, he immediately realized the extraordinary nature of this object and waved his hand: "Quick! Protect the scene! Notify the city's Cultural Relics Bureau! This is no small matter!"

The workers didn't dare move recklessly again and immediately brought water and soft cloths to start carefully cleaning the mud off the surface of the stone slab. Their movements were gentle, as if they were handling a rare treasure, fearing that a single mistake would destroy something.

As the mud was washed away bit by bit, the blurred engravings on the stone slab, weathered by time, gradually became visible. Those marks, bearing the vicissitudes of time, seemed to silently tell an ancient story.

Most of the handwriting was no longer recognizable and was blurred. But in the very center of the stone tablet, there were a few characters, as if the person who carved them had used all their strength, the strokes were carved deep into the marrow of the stone; over hundreds of years, they had stubbornly survived.

A young worker with good eyesight crouched in front, leaning very close, identifying the characters one by one. As he read, he was filled with doubt.

"This... this is the character 'Zhao'..."

"The one after it... a 'Sun' on top and a 'Zheng' on the bottom... is it 'Shi'?"

"And this... also a 'Zhao'... this one... a 'Sun' on top and a 'Bing' on the bottom... is it 'Bing'?"

He read the recognized characters aloud and looked up with a confused face: "Zhao Shi? Zhao Bing? Who are they? Never heard of them."

Wang Dalong also scratched his head, thinking these two names sounded a bit awkward, and didn't take them to heart. He had never heard of these characters at all.

However, the moment these two names were read out, Lin Feng, standing at the edge of the crowd, suddenly stiffened.

A surge of electricity shot from his tailbone straight to the crown of his head, instantly causing a cold numbness.

Before his eyes, the colors of the world instantly faded, and everything turned into a shade of gray. The noise seemed to disappear, and everything around him became distant and blurred.

In his mind, that cold, emotionless mechanical prompt sounded, word by word, each one striking deep into his soul like a giant bell.

[Ding!]

[Detected key historical beacons: "Emperor Shi, Emperor Bing".]

[Hidden historical main quest triggered: "sorrowful song of the last song".]

[Quest Objective: Seek the lost final National Mandate of the Southern Song Dynasty.]

[Quest Reward: Unknown.]

[Failure Penalty: None.]

Lin Feng's breath instantly hitched. His heartbeat suddenly accelerated, so fast it felt like it would burst through his chest.

Zhao Shi, Zhao Bing.

Emperor Duanzong of Song, the Last Emperor of Song.

The Southern Song Dynasty's last two boy emperors, who wandered in exile and died at sea!

Lin Feng felt a wave of dizziness. These two names, every character was as heavy as Mount Tai pressing down. What they represented was not an ordinary history, but a magnificent and extremely tragic elegy. It was the most tragic, unyielding, and sigh-inducing swan song before the fall of a dynasty in Chinese history!

"sorrowful song of the last song..." Lin Feng's lips moved slightly as he silently recited the quest's name. Just these words made his chest feel tight.

Previously, he had felt that his external fame and wealth were unreal and felt lost, as if he were an outsider. He only thought about exploring those stories buried by time and tracing the truth of history. He felt he was just an observer, a recorder.

But now, when these two names came with a history of blood and tears, and the system's cold yet fate-filled quest, he realized he could not stay out of it. He was not just a recorder; he had been drawn into it.

This stone tablet and these two names were like a tear that revealed a long-buried, suffocating past. It seemed to foreshadow that on the path he would take in the future, he would encounter more, heavier, and perhaps even world-shattering fragments of history.

Seek the lost final National Mandate of the Southern Song Dynasty... what exactly did this quest want him to find? Was it artifacts? Ruins? Or... those unknown secrets that were deliberately covered up? The words "National Mandate" were as heavy as a thousand catties; they represented the lifeblood of a nation and the spiritual continuation of a country.

The surrounding noise sounded to Lin Feng like it was through a layer of thick glass, hazy and unreachable. He felt as if he were isolated from this world.

Wang Dalong saw Lin Feng's face suddenly turn pale and his body sway, and he was startled.

"Feng Zi, what's wrong with you?!" He quickly stepped forward to support Lin Feng and asked anxiously, "Did you get heatstroke? The sea breeze is quite cool, though?"

Old Bai also noticed something was wrong with Lin Feng and looked over with a frown, his face filled with concern.

Lin Feng didn't answer; he just gasped heavily a few times, struggling to calm the churning shock in his chest. He held onto Wang Dalong's arm, his fingertips cold.

He slowly raised his head, his gaze passing over the crowd and landing again on the stone tablet that had just been cleaned. Those two names carved into the marrow of the stone seemed to possess a powerful magic that pierced through the dust of years and reached straight to the heart.

"Zhao... Shi... Zhao... Bing..." He finally spoke, his voice hoarse and low, carrying an indescribable weight and sorrow. "What we dug up... might not just be a stone tablet."

Wang Dalong was stunned: "Not just a stone tablet? Then what is it?"

Lin Feng's gaze moved away from the stone tablet and fell into the depths of the dark soil that had been dug up beneath it, his eyes as deep as a calm ancient well.

In his mind, only one phrase kept echoing:

"sorrowful song of the last song."

This stone tablet was just the beginning. What kind of thrilling truth was still buried beneath it? And how did it connect to the final, unknown "National Mandate" of the Southern Song Dynasty?