Milo took only a couple seconds pulling up the list of artifacts found on the website, looking through the list, most of them seeming fairly unimportant. The occasional pot, the odd dish, a intricate platter. He didn't even need special information to pull that up. He typed in the account he'd been set up with, one with open access to everything, but the inability to change the site in any way. He went through a couple of pages about general safety of the workers, orange vests, holes fenced, the works. It all seemed fairly up to date, and a lot of the people he'd seen had been safely adorned. He looked at a couple of still pictures of the staff, and in every picture, everything seemed fine. He'd comb through the videos and the diggers backgrounds later.<br/><br/>He decided he'd look at some of the other artifacts. Pulling up a tab of all the cataloged and stored artifacts brought up a similar page, columns with info, numbers for boxes, links for pictures. He put the two pages together, trying to match them up, and scrolled through them. They seemed to match up decently well, an occasional typo, and he came across the missing box soon enough. Something caught his eye though, on a much earlier date, one of the first artifacts actually found. It wasn't cataloged. At all. It was documented as found, had the page for an image and specific details. Clicking on the picture, it shocked him. It looked like Yi Long was in the picture, holding the wheel chair. Looking for a date, it seemed to be dated almost 30 years ago. Yet, looking back at the catalog of stored items, he didn't see a single thing for wheelchairs. And looking at the picture, it didn't look like Yi Long would have 30 years ago.<br/><br/>"Hey, Xiao Yu, come check this out," he turned the computer, "Is that Yi Long's father? I don't see a name or anything on here, just the guy holding the wheel chair."<br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/>An Bo was torn, and to be quite frank terrified. He wanted to rush to Wuqing's side, to get that blade, which looked horrifyingly sharp, away from her. The blood rushed through his veins, and he couldn't move, couldn't think. What did he do? Leave, like nothing had happened? Run to help Wuqing? Listen to Tieshou? Risk Wuqing never wanting to talk to him again if he stayed? All these thoughts rushed through his mind like lighting hitting the same tree, it was too much, and he couldn't decide, and instead, stood there, tense as a board. He'd learned a bit of how to fight, but he knew he was no match for a Constable. His instinct to protect her won.<br/><br/>"Wuqing! He yelled, running to her, trying to frantically get the blade from her head. He didn't get very far before he was stopped though, with almost no effort at all, Zhuiming had stopped him. Without knowing how to react again, he tried to say something about wanting to help, but just started backing away, the realization of how impossible it'd be to take on a Constable and live settling in.