Chapter 40 Untitled Draft!

In the dead of night, Beijing seemed to be soaked in ink. The old hutongs outside the Second Ring Road had long lost the neon lights of the main street, with only a few scattered red lanterns hanging under the eaves, their dim yellow light swaying in the damp, cold wind, reflecting a patchwork of red light onto the puddles on the bluestone pavement. Black Bear was driving a slightly worn SUV, the wheels splashing up ripples as they rolled over the puddles. He glanced at the rearview mirror and saw Zhang Qiling leaning back in his seat, eyes closed, seemingly resting, his fingertips unconsciously pressing against his side—there was an old wound there, reopened by a dragon-like creature in the Qinling Mountains a while ago, which was now aching from the night wind.

“Dumb,” Black Bear swerved the steering wheel, dodging the construction debris piled up at the alley entrance, his voice low and deliberately relaxed, “That old fox, Old Qiu, really dares to gamble that we’re heading to the Ghost Market? Isn’t he afraid the Zhang family is watching us?”

Zhang Qiling's eyelashes fluttered, and when he opened his eyes, the shadow of the old locust tree flashing past the window was reflected in his pupils, sharp as if it had been tempered with ice: "He wants to find something that can activate the Ghost Seal. Only the Ghost Market in the capital dares to hide Zhang family's old belongings. Moreover, he won't show up himself; he'll only use people from the gambling den to do it."

Wu Xie, in the passenger seat, suddenly turned around, still clutching half a torn map he'd bought from Panjiayuan, the corner of the paper crumpled: "Ghost Market? Is that the black market Uncle San mentioned, the one that opens at midnight and closes at dawn? I heard the rules there are stricter than the Nine Gates; if you break the rules, you won't even have bones left."

Xie Yuchen, who was wiping his glasses with a tissue in the back seat, looked up when he heard this, his lenses reflecting a cold light: "There was some news recently that there was a gambling den called 'Master Chen Jiu' in the Ghost Market who acquired a bronze box that came from Changbai Mountain. The patterns engraved on it are the same as Zhang Jiagu's seal. This is definitely what Qiu Dekao wants."

The car finally stopped at the entrance of an alley in the southern part of the city, where half of the door had collapsed. Fatty Wang pushed open the car door and shivered, breathing on his palms: "Wow, this place is even more gloomy than the cemetery behind my hometown. Blind man, are you sure Master Chen is here? Did you come to the wrong place?"

Hei Xiazi didn't reply. He went around to the back seat and opened the car door for Zhang Qiling, deliberately using his elbow to brace against the door frame—he knew this man was a man of few words, even if he was in pain, but the slight pause in his steps when getting out of the car couldn't lie. The five walked along the bluestone path, the quieter they went, the only sound being their own footsteps echoing in the alley. Finally, they stopped in front of a black-painted wooden door, the brass rings on it covered in a layer of green rust, and felt icy to the touch.

Black Bear stepped forward and knocked three times on the door with his knuckles, the rhythm of the "direction code" used in the ghost market: one heavy knock, two light knocks. A few seconds later, a pair of murky eyes peeked through the crack in the door, scanning the five people like snakes, finally landing on Black Bear's face with a hint of wariness.

"Hey, Mr. Black," a hoarse voice came from behind the door, like sandpaper rubbing against wood, "what brings you to my shabby place today? Didn't you say you'd never do business with me again?"

"Let's talk business with Master Chen." Black Bear took out a Kangxi Tongbao coin from his pocket and handed it through the crack in the door—this was a token agreed upon when he dealt with Master Chen before. Years ago, he helped Master Chen solve a puzzle in a Warring States period tomb, and Master Chen owed him a favor.

The wooden door creaked open, revealing a small courtyard piled high with antiques. The blue-and-white porcelain vases and bronze tripods looked impressive, but Wu Xie frowned after just one glance—the inscriptions on the bottoms of those vases were all fake, made with chemical pigments that crumbled at the slightest touch. An old man in a dark blue mandarin jacket emerged from the inner room, holding a pair of walnuts with a glossy patina. It was Chen Jiuye. His gaze didn't look at anyone else, fixing directly on Zhang Qiling, a stiff smile tugging at his lips: "This must be Mr. Zhang, right? I've heard so much about you. The Zhang family certainly exudes a different kind of aura."

Zhang Qiling didn't speak, but nodded slightly. His gaze swept over the fakes in the courtyard, finally settling on a dusty bronze box in the corner. The box was about the size of a palm, engraved with intricate patterns, and had a dark green patina in the dim light. It looked quite old, but the patterns lacked the "vitality" that Zhang family artifacts should have.

Following his gaze, Master Chen spun the walnut in his hand even faster, a calculating glint in his eyes: "Mr. Zhang has a good eye. This box was brought from Inner Mongolia a while ago. It's said to be from the Liao Dynasty, so it certainly has some history, but..."

"Name your price." Black Bear interrupted him directly, his hand already reaching for the wallet in his pocket—he knew that what Zhang Qiling had his eye on was definitely related to the Zhang family, and he couldn't let Master Chen keep going in circles here, lest things get complicated.

"No rush." ​​Master Chen slowly walked to the stone table and sat down, pouring himself a cup of cold tea, the rim of which was still stained with tea. "First, tell me, why do you all want this box? It can't just be because you like it, can it?"

Xie Yuchen stepped forward, his fingertips resting on the stone table, his tone carrying an undeniable pressure: "Master Chen, let's not beat around the bush. We know you've collected more than just this one item from Changbai Mountain. How much did Qiu Dekao pay you to help him lure us here?"

Master Chen paused, a flicker of panic crossing his eyes, which he quickly suppressed, and chuckled dryly: “Master Xie is mistaken. How could someone like Boss Qiu deal with a nobody like me? The things in the Queen Mother of the West's Palace are not so easy to touch. My little temple cannot contain that great Buddha.”

Just then, Zhang Qiling suddenly walked over and gently placed his fingertips on the bronze box. The moment his fingertips touched the patterns, his brows furrowed slightly—the patterns were imitations; they lacked the warm, smooth feel of time, instead bearing the harshness of machine cutting.

"I want this box." Zhang Qiling's voice was still flat, but it carried an undeniable certainty that made it impossible to refuse, and his hand was already gripping the edge of the box.

Master Chen's face darkened, and he reached out to stop him: "Mr. Zhang, this is against the rules of the ghost market. Buying and selling depends on fate, and besides, this box..."

"Rules are made for those who follow them." Black Bear slammed a stack of cash on the stone table, his voice turning colder. "Is this enough? If not, add more. You owe me a favor, and it's time to pay it back."

Master Chen's gaze swept over the money, then glanced at the box in Zhang Qiling's hand. Just as he was about to speak, a series of hurried footsteps sounded outside the courtyard, accompanied by the clanging of metal—the sound of a baton striking the bluestone slabs. His expression changed drastically, and he jumped to his feet: "Oh no! It's 'Scarface's' men! Everyone, quickly exit through the back door; they're coming for you!"

Hei Xiazi reacted the fastest, grabbing Zhang Qiling's wrist and pulling him towards the back door—he could feel that his wrist was cold and trembling slightly, indicating that an old injury had been aggravated. The five squeezed through the narrow back door passage and had just turned into another alley when they saw more than a dozen people dressed in black rushing into the courtyard from the front door, all carrying short sticks. The leader had a scar on his face; he was a notorious outlaw from the ghost market who made a living by "clearing out" people.

"Damn it! That old bastard Chen Jiuye really did collude with Jude Kao!" Fatty Wang cursed, took out two smoke grenades from his backpack, pulled off the pins and threw them out. The smoke instantly spread, blocking the pursuers' vision.

Zhang Qiling suddenly stopped and looked down at the bronze box in his hand. When he was running, the box hit the corner of the wall, revealing a new copper color at the bottom. The engravings on it were machine-made, and the edges were very smooth, clearly indicating modern craftsmanship.

"The box is fake." Zhang Qiling tossed the box to Wu Xie, his voice carrying a barely perceptible chill, the pain in his side making his breathing slightly heavy.

Hei Xiazi came over to take a look, frowned, and reached out to support his arm: "The old man is stalling for time. He already revealed our whereabouts to Jude Kao."

"Look over there!" Xie Yuchen suddenly pointed to the end of the alley, his voice filled with urgency.

The group looked in the direction he pointed and saw a familiar figure standing in the shadows at the alley entrance. It was one of Jude Kao's men, holding a bronze box identical to the one Zhang Qiling had just carried. Seeing the five looking over, the man raised the box, then turned and disappeared into the nearby alley, his figure quickly vanishing into the darkness—clearly, Jude Kao hadn't shown himself, but had only sent a errand boy to provoke them.

"Chase!" Zhang Qiling rushed out first, but his pace was slower than usual. The wound on his side was getting more and more painful from the pulling, cold sweat was seeping from his forehead, and his vision was blurring.

Black Bear followed closely behind him, clearly seeing a patch of cold sweat soaking his back. A surge of anger welled up inside him—angry at both Master Chen's insidious schemes and Jude Kao's underhanded tactics. "Dumb Man, your injuries can't take it, don't force it!"

"It's nothing." Zhang Qiling didn't turn his head, but quickened his pace. He didn't notice that the alley ahead suddenly narrowed, and at the end was a brick wall more than two meters high, with broken glass stuck on top of it.

Jude Kao's men flashed across the wall, leaving behind a mocking laugh. Zhang Qiling was about to jump over the wall when Hei Xiazi grabbed his wrist tightly: "Don't be impulsive! There's an ambush up there!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than several dark figures suddenly appeared on the wall, holding crossbows with arrows whose tips gleamed blue in the moonlight—they were poisoned.

"Step back!" Zhang Qiling suddenly pulled Hei Xiazi behind him, and with his other hand he drew the Black Gold Ancient Sword from his back. The blade drew a cold arc in the moonlight, blocking the two arrows that were coming at them.

Arrows rained down, and Xie Yuchen and Fatty Wang rushed over just in time. Xie Yuchen caught several arrows with his whip and yanked hard, causing the archer to stumble. Fatty Wang, wielding his entrenching tool, took the brunt of the arrows and retreated, cursing under his breath. "This way!" Wu Xie shouted at the fork in the road. He had already figured out the alleyway and knew there was an abandoned courtyard ahead where they could hide temporarily.

In the chaos, Hei Xiazi felt someone grab his hand. It was Zhang Qiling. His fingertips were cool, but he held on tightly, as if afraid of losing him. "Come with me." Zhang Qiling's voice rang in his ear, lower than usual, a little hoarse, but exceptionally reassuring.

The two followed Wu Xie into the abandoned courtyard. As they ran past a broken gate, Zhang Qiling suddenly stopped and his gaze fell on the ancestral hall door in the courtyard. There was a blurry "Zhang" character carved on the door. Although the paint had all fallen off, there were still some dark red marks embedded in the wood grain, which was the unique clan emblem of the Zhang family ancestral hall.

"This is..." Hei Xiazi was about to ask when he saw Zhang Qiling push open the door and walk in. He walked very lightly, as if afraid of disturbing something. When his fingertips brushed the engravings on the door frame, there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

The ancestral hall was covered in dust. Moonlight streamed in through the broken window frames, illuminating the offering table in the center. Most of the memorial tablets behind the table had fallen over, leaving only a few standing, their inscriptions blurred by wormholes. Zhang Qiling walked to the offering table, brushing the dust off its surface with his fingertips, his voice as soft as a sigh: "When I was a child, I came here with the rest of the clan. This was the Zhang family's old ancestral hall in the capital. Later, the clan dispersed, and it fell into disrepair."

Hei Xiazi didn't say anything, but walked to his side and silently shielded him from the cold wind blowing in from the window—he knew that the Zhang family's affairs were a scar for Zhang Qiling, and that it would hurt to mention them. At this moment, it was better to do more than to say more.

Zhang Qiling fumbled under the altar for a moment, his fingers suddenly touching a protruding wooden buckle. He pressed it hard, and the altar creaked and slid aside, revealing a downward staircase. The bottom was dark and smelled of damp earth, mixed with a faint scent of ambergris—the incense the Zhang family used to preserve their artifacts.

“What Jude Kao wants should be down there.” Zhang Qiling picked up a candle next to him, lit it, and shone it down. The flame flickered slightly. “But the door to this secret room requires two people to press the mechanisms on both sides to open it. It’s a rule of the clan to prevent outsiders from breaking in.”

Hei Xiazi took the candle from his hand, and naturally placed his other hand on his shoulder, gently pressing his fingertips on his wound. His tone was somewhat relaxed: "That's perfect, I'll go down with you. If it hurts, just tell me, don't try to tough it out."

The steps were steep, and Hei Xiazi walked ahead, deliberately slowing his pace and glancing back at Zhang Qiling every now and then, afraid that he might lose his footing. The secret chamber contained many of the Zhang family's old belongings: bronze mirrors, jade cong (a type of jade tube), and ancient swords, all covered in a thick layer of dust. On the central stone platform sat a jade box, its engraved patterns identical to the Ghost Seal hanging around Zhang Qiling's neck, down to the direction of the patterns.

Zhang Qiling walked over and carefully opened the jade box. Inside, a dark red velvet cloth was laid out, and on it lay a yellowed silk scroll. The characters on it were Zhang family's tadpole script, which only he could understand. The edges of the silk scroll were somewhat worn, but it was well preserved, showing how much its previous owner had cherished it.

“This is the real thing.” Zhang Qiling gently touched the silk scroll with his fingertips, a glimmer of light flashing in his eyes, as if he had found something lost for many years.

Just then, footsteps suddenly came from the entrance of the secret room. Master Chen walked in with several scarred men, holding guns, but trembling in their hands—clearly, he had been forced to come by Jude Kao, fearing retaliation from the Zhang family, but even more afraid that Jude Kao would kill him.

"Thank you both so much for finding the silk scroll for me..." Master Chen's voice trembled, but he still forced himself to say, "Boss Qiu said that if you hand over the Ghost Seal and the silk scroll, he'll let you go..."

Black Bear immediately stepped in front of Zhang Qiling, tossing the candle aside. The flame landed on the nearby oilcloth, instantly igniting a small fire that cast their shadows on the wall, making them appear particularly imposing. "Old man, don't you even look at yourself? You dare to threaten us? Is the bribe Jude Kao gave you enough to buy your coffin?"

Master Chen's face paled even more. He took a step back, gave a wink to the people around him, and said in a weak voice, "Go, go get them!"

Just as the group was about to rush over, Zhang Qiling suddenly pressed the Ghost Seal onto the silk scroll. The Ghost Seal instantly emitted a dazzling light, and the characters on the silk scroll seemed to come alive, swirling in the secret chamber and illuminating the entire room. The secret chamber began to shake violently, and items on the stone platform fell to the ground with a clattering sound, while dust and debris fell from above.

"What...what did you do?" Master Chen's expression changed drastically, and he staggered backward, almost falling to the ground.

“The Zhang family’s secret technique,” ​​Zhang Qiling said in a calm but intimidating voice, “is that as long as the Ghost Seal and the Silk Scroll touch, they can trigger the mechanism in the secret chamber, trapping the intruder here until they die of lack of oxygen.”

Master Chen dared not linger any longer and led his men in a hasty retreat towards the exit. He nearly tripped over the steps as he ran, tumbling and scrambling as he escaped. The tremors quickly ceased, but the entrance to the secret chamber had been sealed off by the fallen stone slabs, leaving only a faint glimmer of light.

Hei Xiazi walked over to Zhang Qiling, patted the dust off his clothes, and reached out to feel his forehead. He was relieved to find that Zhang Qiling didn't have a fever. "What do we do now? We're trapped like turtles in a jar."

Zhang Qiling didn't panic. Instead, he walked to the wall of the secret room, groped around for a moment, and found a hidden door—a small "Ling" character was carved on the door, which he had secretly carved when he was a child. "There is an exit here. It's a way out left by the clan. I hid here when I was a child to avoid the clan's reprimands."

Behind the hidden door was a secret passage leading to a dilapidated temple outside the city. The passage was narrow, only wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Hei Xiazi walked on the outside, afraid that the pebbles on the walls might scratch Zhang Qiling. When the two emerged from the passage, dawn was breaking. The east was tinged with the pale light of dawn, and the rising sun was slowly climbing, painting the sky a pale red. The air carried the scent of morning dew.

“Dumb,” Black Bear suddenly stopped, looked into his eyes, and gently touched the corner of his mouth with his fingertip. “Just now in the secret room, you said that the secret technique could trap people. You were just lying to Master Chen, weren’t you? I saw that when you pressed the mechanism, your finger paused for a moment. You didn’t actually trigger it at all. If you wanted to trap them, you would have triggered it long ago. You wouldn’t have given them time to escape.”

Zhang Qiling's lips curled up slightly, a faint smile that Hei Xiazi caught, like the first melting of snow: "Hmm. I don't want to destroy this place; after all, it's our clan's territory."

The rising sun cast long shadows of the two men. A breeze blew by, carrying a touch of morning coolness, but it wasn't cold anymore. Hei Xiazi looked at the profile of the man beside him, sunlight falling on his eyelashes and casting a soft shadow. Suddenly, he felt that no matter how much danger lay ahead, as long as Zhang Qiling was by his side, it didn't seem so scary.

When the two returned to the city, Wu Xie, Xie Yuchen, and Fatty Wang were already waiting for them in Xie Yuchen's courtyard house. On the table were steaming hot buns and soy milk, freshly bought from the breakfast stall near the entrance. Seeing them return, Fatty Wang was the first to greet them, patting Hei Xiazi on the shoulder: "You guys are finally back! I was so worried about you! Xie Yuchen was just saying that if you hadn't come, we would have had to go to the ghost market to look for someone!"

After everyone sat down, Wu Xie picked up a steamed bun, took a bite, and couldn't help but ask, "What exactly is that old man, Master Chen Jiu? How did he get information about the Zhang family ancestral hall? Also, is he related to the Nine Gates? I heard from my third uncle that Chen Pi Asi from the Nine Gates used to be surnamed Chen. Could they be relatives?"

Xie Yuchen took a sip of soy milk, nodded, and took out his phone to find an old photo. The photo showed a man in a long robe who looked somewhat like Master Chen: "Master Chen is a collateral descendant of Chen Pi Asi. He still holds some old connections within the Nine Gates, but he's not very capable. He only makes a living by selling information. This time, he helped Qiu Dekao, probably because he got a lot of money and thought Qiu Dekao could protect him."

“Not only that.” Zhang Qiling suddenly spoke, holding the medicine that Hei Xiazi had handed him, slowly unscrewing the bottle cap. “He also has information about the Zhang family, which should have come from Chen Pi Asi. Chen Pi Asi had dealings with the Zhang family back then, trying to steal their things, but failed. Next time we see Master Chen, we have to find out how much information he still has.”

Upon hearing this, Hei Xiazi reached out and took the medicine from his hand, poured some ointment onto his fingertips, and gently applied it to the wound on his side. He was very careful not to hurt him. "Take care of the wound first. The old man's matter is not urgent. He can run away, but he can't hide. As long as he is still in the Ghost Market, we will always have a chance to settle accounts with him."

Zhang Qiling didn't speak, but simply turned slightly to make it easier for him to apply the medicine. His fingertips unconsciously touched Hei Xiazi's wrist, which was still warm. Sunlight streamed in from the window, falling on their clasped hands, warm and cozy, as if keeping all danger and cold outside.