Ian Lawson sat in a daze for a long time, then returned to the computer and searched online for the meanings of those words. After a great deal of effort, he only found a pile of meaningless terms; the whole sentence made no sense at all. Most of the time, the search results showed: No results found for your query.

　　Night had already fallen. The sound of a door opening and closing came from outside—probably Autumn Lewis saying goodbye. Ian Lawson snapped out of his daze, hurriedly tidied up the things on his desk, took out a few small ornaments, and pretended to study them.

Chapter 4: The Mystery (Part 2)

　　Carolyn Turner's voice called from outside the room: "Xiao Anzi, aren't you coming out to watch TV?"

　　Ian Lawson quickly replied, "No, I still have some work to finish."

　　A lazy yawn sounded, and Carolyn Turner said from outside, "Alright, then I'll go to bed first. Suit yourself."

　　It was rare for Carolyn Turner not to tease him, so Ian Lawson agreed repeatedly. Soon, the room quieted down.

　　After thinking for a moment, Ian Lawson also began to tidy up, getting ready for bed. Overthinking things was not Ian Lawson's habit; in the current situation, without the involvement of precise instruments, continuing to study was meaningless.

　　After washing up, Ian Lawson lay in his room, deliberately leaving the door unlocked, carrying an unrealistic longing and expectation, and got into bed: "Am I going to be raped? How exciting."

　　However, the night passed uneventfully; the lone man and woman actually coexisted peacefully. Waking up in the morning, Ian Lawson felt an indescribable sense of frustration.

　　Carolyn Turner had the habit of eating breakfast and believed it helped her maintain her figure. She forcefully made Ian Lawson prepare breakfast, then tossed out, "I'll be back for dinner tonight," before roaring off in her rose-red Bora.

　　Uncle Carter had already given Ian Lawson time off. Not knowing how badly Jenny had been fleeced, Ian Lawson had no intention of contacting Uncle Carter, and could only wander aimlessly around the room.

　　This was a duplex apartment. Downstairs were the living room, kitchen, dining room, bathroom, and Ian Lawson's bedroom—the so-called maid's room. Upstairs were several rooms: the master bedroom, guest room, study, gym, and so on. Carolyn Turner lived in the master bedroom upstairs.

　　Carolyn Turner had clearly let her guard down around Ian Lawson; none of the rooms were locked—not even her own bedroom. This was the first time Ian Lawson had entered a woman's private space. Aside from the fragrant, almost ambiguous scent, his impression could be summed up in one word: messy. If he had to use two words: very messy. Three words: extremely messy.

　　Despite Carolyn Turner dressing up glamorously and strutting out the door every day, her room was a disaster. Long stockings, shorts, bras, and underwear were strewn everywhere. The wardrobe was wide open, with outerwear and small accessories scattered all over the floor in front of it. The quilt on the bed was unmade, pajamas tossed carelessly on the bed, half of them hanging off the edge. Ian Lawson slowly picked up the clothes, tidied up the room, gathered a large pile of dirty laundry, gently closed the door, and left.

　　Carolyn Turner had hired a part-time cleaner to tidy up her room on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, but never allowed anyone to clean her bedroom. Today was Tuesday, so the cleaner wouldn't come; Ian Lawson had no choice but to do it himself.

　　After tidying up, it was nearly noon. Ian Lawson picked up the grocery money Carolyn Turner had left on the fridge, planning to go to the supermarket to buy ingredients for dinner. Just before leaving, a thought struck him, and he called a friend.

　　Uncle Carter often needed antiques appraised, and this errand always fell to Ian Lawson. Over time, Ian Lawson became acquainted with Charles Bolton, an appraiser at the Bureau of Geology and Mineral Resources. Charles Bolton was only a few years older than Ian Lawson. Having seen too many ancient things, Ian Lawson didn't like socializing with his peers, but because he and Charles Bolton shared common interests, they got along well.

　　"Engineer Zhang, are you free?" Ian Lawson got straight to the point.

　　"You only ever call me when you need something. When will you ever just call to chat? Go on, what is it?" Charles Bolton was equally direct.

　　Ian Lawson didn't stand on ceremony: "I've acquired a few items, but I can't determine their age. Can you help me appraise them?"

　　"Personal items? I happen to be free right now. Bring them over—it's lunchtime, so I won't even charge you."

　　Ian Lawson locked the door, pocketed the necklace and the vajra pestle, and hurried off to the Bureau of Geology and Mineral Resources.

　　The results were even more shocking.

　　The necklace was indeed platinum, but the pendant was made of rhodium of very high purity, with platinum as its only impurity. As for the vajra pestle, it was even stranger—it turned out to be a bronze artifact from 8,000 years ago. This surprised even Charles Bolton, who operated the instruments; he double-checked several times before uncertainly telling Ian Lawson the test results. However, Charles Bolton firmly refused to put the results in writing.

　　"Come on, if I put this result on paper, my colleagues would die laughing. The earliest known human bronze ware is from the Badarian culture in Egypt, 6,675 years ago. Bronze artifacts from over 8,000 years ago—unheard of. Xiao Luo, you know as well as I do, carbon isotope dating can have huge errors. There must be something wrong with my equipment. I'll have someone check it this afternoon," said Charles Bolton.

　　Ian Lawson nodded hesitantly and, in a daze, took his leave of Charles Bolton.