In Entry hall 195, the desperation of the thieves had escalated from theft to brute vandalism.
Qiao Ming stopped at the threshold of the chamber, his lantern lighting up a scene of hasty, violent desecration.
In the center of the entry hall, upon a raised dais of dark veined stone, sat Statue #1950: The Archon of the Western Scribe. The archon was a huge figure carved from pale celadon jade, twelve arm-lengths tall, depicted in the stance of a royal judge holding an ancient jade seal of office in his right hand. The seal was four inches square, carved from mutton-fat green jade, inscribed on its base with the grand seal of the First Epoch.
Lying on the floor at the base of the dais was a heavy cast-iron cold chisel, its cutting edge chipped and galled by blunt impact against the jade.
Beside the chisel lay a heavy wooden mallet with a split ash handle, abandoned where it had fallen.
Qiao Ming climbed the dais steps, his bare feet moving quickly across the cold veined stone flags. He knelt beside the archon’s stone lap, his fingers trembling with quiet sorrow as he raised the lantern to examine the statue’s right hand.
