Years later, Chen Mo sat leisurely in a rocking chair, solemnly instructing his grandchildren: "Children, remember well—rescuing a damsel in distress may seem heroic, but it is fraught with peril. Once, long ago, your grandfather attempted such gallantry… and then…"
"What?"
There was no time to dwell on the meaning of that name. Chen Mo instinctively leapt backward, narrowly avoiding the flash of a descending blade.
A few strands of hair floated gently in the air, a silent testament to how narrowly he had escaped. The green-robed warrior, whose strike had missed, now swept his blade horizontally once more, aiming a ferocious slash at Chen Mo, who stood cornered against the wall.
But at that very instant, a desperate cry pierced the air—Ye Rong's voice, trembling with urgency: "Stop!"
Clang!
The halberd's arc veered slightly, embedding itself into the stone wall a few inches away, sending sparks and debris scattering.
Staring at the blade now lodged between his legs, Chen Mo was momentarily dumbfounded, then overwhelmed with tears—yes, that weapon had missed his vital parts by no more than a hair's breadth. A mere millimeter more, and that ridiculous curse of Pighead Three would have come true.
"That was close. So close… Rong-jie, if you're plotting to murder your future husband, I suggest a more discreet method—say, sleeping pills!"
Wiping the cold sweat from his brow, Chen Mo looked at the formidable warrior before him, and thought that perhaps the Family Planning Commission ought to consider hiring part-time enforcers like this one.
"Who the hell is your wife?" Ye Rong's lips quivered as she spoke, her face pale as snow. Whether her shock came from Chen Mo's sudden intrusion or the perilous rescue that followed, even she didn't seem certain.
But then she caught a glimpse of the towering man standing proudly, hands clasped behind his back, and froze in place. "Ah… You're… You're… Lord Guan?"
There was no mistaking it. Even someone completely ignorant of history would recognize this legendary figure—an immortalized hero venerated for generations.
Hearing her tentative inquiry, the red-faced, long-bearded man turned his head, stroked his beard with pride, and replied in a booming voice, "Indeed. I am none other than Guan Yu."
Silence. A strange and heavy silence. Anyone would feel dizzy upon witnessing a once-stationary figure from a temple suddenly spring to life.
More so when that figure isn't just a storied warrior of ancient times, but one revered as a god by both the underworld and the living.
Ye Rong's lips trembled with disbelief, and when she finally managed to speak, her words were absurdly inappropriate: "I've always wanted to ask… is your face… unpainted?"
Of course. A woman remains a woman—capable of gossip even in the most surreal of circumstances.
Chen Mo couldn't help rolling his eyes. But when he noticed Lord Guan's brow begin to twitch, he quickly interjected, "General Guan, if you don't mind, may I speak a few words with my friend?"
Taking advantage of Guan Yu's continued posing, he pulled Ye Rong aside and hastily explained everything about the museum's mysterious resurrection.
To her credit, Ye Rong's nerves were fairly robust. Still, she gnawed on her finger for several minutes before reluctantly accepting the bizarre truth.
Chen Mo let out a long sigh and muttered, "So that's how it is—China's very own Night at the Museum… By the way, what were you doing in the restroom for so long?"
Bad move.
The moment he asked, Ye Rong's face flushed with mortified rage and she stomped on his foot. Biting her cherry-red lips, she muttered under her breath, "I had some fruit earlier… upset my stomach…"
Recalling that earlier awkward scene, even the typically fierce Ye Rong now resembled a sheepish lamb.
Desperate to change the subject, she glanced toward the still-posing Lord Guan and murmured, "So… that means even Lord Guan was resurrected?"
"No, not resurrected," Chen Mo corrected, shaking his head. "You should say… his wooden statue was awakened. In our terms, he's a knockoff."
Indeed, this version of Guan Yu bore all the signs of woodcarving—faint chisel marks and the light fragrance of boxwood gently permeated the air.
None of this, of course, prevented him from maintaining his dramatic pose. For the past ten minutes, he had stood frozen with halberd in hand and beard stroked mid-thought—without so much as twitching a finger.
"Doesn't that hurt, holding a pose for so long?"
Chen Mo almost asked aloud, but the moment his eyes met Lord Guan's fierce gaze, he swallowed the question whole.
It was this unintended eye contact that finally prompted Lord Guan to break his statue-like stillness. Stroking his beard, he turned and asked, "Might you be the museum's newly appointed guardian?"
Though spoken in archaic prose, the question was comprehensible.
Chen Mo nodded slightly—and suddenly, everything began to make sense.
The former security guard must've interacted with the exhibits. That explained the soldiers from the Terracotta Army puffing cigarettes like seasoned pros—and why the paper effigies hadn't flinched at the sight of a giant.
Seeing Chen Mo nod in confirmation, the wooden Guan Yu gave only a faint nod in response, acknowledging him without ceremony.
After a brief pause, he arched his dark brow and asked solemnly, "Have you seen my two sworn brothers?"
"Huh? You mean Liu Bei and Zhang Fei are here too?"
Flustered, Chen Mo quickly flipped through the exhibit guidebook.
Before he could find any answers, a glint of emotion flashed across Guan Yu's eyes. With a low, cool tone, he declared, "No matter. If they were meant to come, they would be here by now. Farewell."
With that cryptic remark, he turned and strode off in his usual dignified fashion, blade in hand.
Chen Mo was baffled. "What does 'meant to come but haven't yet' even mean? Were they supposed to play mahjong together?"
But seeing his only link to answers disappearing, he rushed forward to stop him. "General Guan, please wait—"
He hadn't even finished the sentence when a terrifying pressure swept forth. Chen Mo staggered backward, crashing into a wall before regaining balance.
In front of him, Lord Guan stood like an immovable force, halberd in one hand, gaze fierce and commanding, as if the air itself bowed to his will.
Chen Mo could barely breathe, but couldn't resist muttering, "Seriously… I only reached out to stop him. No need to go full Dragon Ball Z on me… Wait a minute, is this the legendary Aura of a True King?"
Now that he thought about it, there was precedent. In Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Chapter 73—
"As the embroidered banner parted, Guan Yu rode forth with halberd in hand. Lü Chang rushed to meet him, but his soldiers, overwhelmed by Guan Yu's aura, fled before a single blow was struck."
Perhaps poor Hua Xiong didn't fall due to lack of skill, but because he was simply overwhelmed by this man's overwhelming presence.
"But still… he's made of wood. How is he more real than the real thing?"
Confused, Chen Mo glanced again at the heroic figure before him, whose body trembled with such intensity that it seemed to shudder from sheer force.
Cautiously, Chen Mo cupped his hands in deference. "General Guan, forgive my impertinence. I merely wished to ask—do any of these exhibits ever… escape?"
"Has no one informed you?" Guan Yu's expression softened. Switching the halberd from right to left, he struck a fresh pose—imposing and statuesque.
Once satisfied, he slowly spoke: "Fear not. With the sacred key in your possession, simply ensure the doors and windows are sealed by nightfall, and no harm shall come."
Speaking with these ancient types was exhausting. But Chen Mo, having majored in Chinese literature, could just about keep up.
It seemed the key he now held wasn't ordinary—it possessed some mystical power capable of sealing every exhibit behind magical wards.
"So… I just need to protect this key?"
He tightened his grip around the bundle of keys, whispering, "Guess this is my down payment on a future home."
He looked up again—Guan Yu was already returning to the exhibit stage, halberd raised, beard stroked, resuming his perfect martial stance.
Unable to hold back, Chen Mo called out, "Wait! General Guan—do you know why everything here is coming to life?"
"You are entirely ignorant… and yet you are this museum's guardian?"
Annoyed by yet another question, Guan Yu was on the verge of scolding him—but then stopped.
He turned eastward, eyes narrowing in thought, and after a pause said, "Very well. Return here tomorrow night, and I shall show you."
"…Huh?" That was fast.
Chen Mo blinked. Not even a bribe works this well.
But before he could say more, a deep rumble echoed through the hall. A pillar of azure light descended from above, engulfing the entire exhibition chamber in a blinding brilliance.
Moments later, as Chen Mo lowered his hand from his eyes, Guan Yu had reverted into a statue, his gaze frozen forward in eternal vigilance.
All around them, the din of chaos faded. The debris on the floor seemed to gather life, sweeping back into place with uncanny precision.
Even the gaping holes in the walls began to mend—healing themselves like living flesh.
Within minutes, the museum was whole again, as if nothing had occurred.
Ye Rong stood in stunned silence, gaping at her surroundings. Her astonishment had turned her into a statue herself.
She didn't even notice a few timid electrical appliances quietly slinking along the walls, trying to escape.
Scratching his head, Chen Mo looked out toward the brightening sky and sighed. "Well, at least I won't have to pay for repairs… Hmm. Feels like I've forgotten something."
Indeed, at that very moment, poor Nuonuo was still struggling to escape the candy princess's suffocating embrace.
Behind the glass of a display case, he stared longingly at the world outside—so near, and yet forever beyond reach.
In that moment, he understood:
Marriage is the grave of love.
And a marriage without love…
is a thousand-year-old tomb.
Meanwhile, back in the Terracotta Warrior exhibit, the half-cooked Pighead Three continued roasting over an open flame.
Watching his stony comrades return to their places, he sobbed, "Heartless bastards… and you jerks, if you're going to barbecue me, at least flip me over once in a while! I'm charred on the bottom and raw on top!"