The Dao Heart Shattered
Under everyone's gaze, Yu Xie suddenly turned around, clasped his hands, and bowed to the mountain ghost: "It is I, Yu Xie, who was wrong. I failed to manage my subordinates and implicated you, Ghost Master. Please forgive me, Ghost Master. I will definitely assist the police in finding the arsonist and give you an explanation. In addition, I will compensate Miss He for all the stolen items."
Having swallowed all the sharp words he had prepared, Gao Junxiao breathed a slight sigh of relief. "You're smart enough to know your place."
"Hey, you brat, why are you only compensating others and not me?" Mountain Ghost aggressively blocked Yu Xie's path, his burly body completely obscuring him.
"You don't need to ask me for compensation. The insurance company will compensate you. Didn't Mr. Xia have us all buy insurance? I saw you sign the policy with my own eyes." Yu Xie put his hands on his hips, his imposing manner undiminished.
The mountain spirit blinked and pondered for a moment, then slapped his thigh and his eyes became clear: "Hey~~ it seems like there is such a thing."
“Master Ghost, you should thank Mr. Xia for minimizing your losses. It’s all thanks to his foresight,” Pang Minyou said to the Mountain Ghost.
"Isn't my wife awesome!" Gao Junxiao felt a surge of pride. He hadn't expected He Qingcheng to even consider compensation for them. Now things would be much easier.
He turned and chimed in, "Yes, the arsonist deliberately provoked a conflict between the two families. Brother Yu is also a victim, so we can't take our anger out on him. You came here armed and forcefully to search. No dock manager would dare to let you in. If it really resulted in a bloodbath, wouldn't Mr. Xia be heartbroken? Shouldn't you apologize for your reckless actions today to show the magnanimity of your Green Gang?"
"I would never dare to do that. Mr. Xia has been kind to me. When he returns, I will definitely host a banquet for him. All of you brothers will be witnesses." Shan Gui clasped his hands and looked around before facing Yu Xie. "Brother Yu, I am extremely sorry. I acted impulsively today. Please forgive me."
"You're too kind, Mr. Ghost. I don't blame you. I was just as anxious when my warehouse burned down." Yu Xie clasped his hands in a fist and bowed, and said calmly, "It's thanks to Mr. Xia's wisdom that we bought insurance in advance, just to prevent the Japanese and traitors from causing sabotage. We became complacent after the strike."
"Who isn't! If Miss He's fiancé hadn't mentioned that their real purpose was Mr. Xia, I would have forgotten about it." Shan Gui shook his head honestly.
Yu Xie disregarded past grievances, and Gao Junxiao finally felt relieved. All that was left was for Master Wu to help apply for the arson case to be combined with Captain Pang's theft case, and the territorial issue would be easily resolved.
Thinking of this, Gao Junxiao suggested taking stock of his wife's losses so that Captain Pang could file a case. Immediately, Yu Xie brought in pulleys and lowered the cargo boxes one by one.
The space in the attic was very compact. Perhaps for theft prevention, the boxes were arranged in a U-shape, stacked in two layers to the top. The boxes inside could not be opened at all. Only the two boxes in the middle that were laid flat could be opened, and the outermost, slightly smaller yellow box on the second layer could be opened slightly, just big enough for a hand to reach in.
"That's enough, just these four." Gao Junxiao gestured for them to stop. He figured the thieves' main job was to set the fire, and they had just checked the boxes. Thieves don't leave empty-handed, and if they made a big commotion and delayed their "real business," it would be a loss.
"Manager Yu, I checked and only these four boxes have had their locks pried open; the other seals are still on." The worker's statement confirmed Gao Junxiao's suspicions.
Yu Xie was still not reassured, so he climbed up and searched carefully again, and indeed there was nothing suspicious.
The warehouse fell silent for a moment. Captain Pang quietly asked Gao Junxiao if they could seal off the scene now.
Seal it, but don't seal it completely. The warehouse door should be left open. Gao Junxiao looked meaningfully at the inside and outside of the warehouse, as if to say, "Come and see if you want."
While the technicians were taking photos for evidence, Gao Junxiao gave Yu Xie some instructions. Yu Xie's eyes darkened, he nodded in agreement, and quickly left the warehouse.
As Yu Xie left, he brushed past Jiang Yun, who had just returned. Jiang Yun suggested that Director Luo and the others rest at the teahouse across the street for the time being, and that Gao Junxiao should handle the matter as soon as possible.
In no time, the technicians had taken photos of the scene.
"Let's see what's missing first. Brother Wu, Brother Pang, and Master Jiang, please help us open the box and find clues. We can't keep Director Luo waiting." After Gao Junxiao finished speaking, the four of them opened the box together.
One box contained the perfumes I had just seen, and the other box contained long strips of cloth. The perfumes would have a smell if spilled, and the cloths were too bulky; neither was suitable for casually taking advantage of someone.
The box in front of him was piled with scrolls of various sizes, and out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at another box, which was full of books.
None of them were valuable items. Did the thief not take anything? Not necessarily. The paintings and calligraphy that were placed in He Qingcheng's dowry chest might have been the works of some great master.
Hey, what's this? There's a big pocket on the lid of the box, and it seems like there's something thin inside. Gao Junxiao pulled it out and saw that it was a letter with "To Brother Xiao" written on the cover.
How naughty! The surrounding noise turned into a suona version of "Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix." Gao Junxiao smiled with pursed lips and couldn't wait to open the envelope.
Then, as you see me:
I imagine you will have already come upon hearing the news when you receive this letter, so please don't worry. Wealth is just an external thing; even if it is stolen, it's just a little bit of gold and silver, which I find vulgar anyway, so why should I care?
However, I am deeply attached to the twenty-four paintings by Tang Yin that were left to me by my late father. They are all painted on silk with colors, and all have inscriptions and seals. Among them, the "Lady Catching Butterflies" painting has folds of clothing like spring clouds, and the makeup of the old lady from the previous dynasty is shimmering. However, upon closer inspection, the warp and weft of the silk seem to be slightly different from those commonly seen in the Wu School, so I hesitated.
My knowledge of calligraphy and painting is very limited, and I am unable to distinguish between genuine and fake works. I fear that I might be wasting a precious gem and failing to honor the legacy of our ancestors. I have long heard that you are skilled in appraising antiquities, especially in traditional Chinese calligraphy and painting. If you have some free time, would you be willing to let me take a look at your work on a chosen day?
The painting is currently stored in two nanmu wood boxes. One box is engraved with "Chong Er" (虫二), which also means "Boundless Wind and Moon" (风月无边), and the other box is engraved with "Wang Wan" (望晚), meaning that only those with true insight can understand its wonder. If you can guess its meaning, there will be a reward when I return!
Autumn's chill deepens, the charcoal stove glows, I sit alone in my small room, counting the fleeting moments. A short note on red paper, thoughts linger, I pick up my pen several times, yet fear my words will fail me. I think, I think, I think.
Also, a dowry list is enclosed with this letter for your reference.
Immediately recite
Autumn Blessing
Kiyomizu
Finally, next to the signature, a lip print was drawn with vermilion ink, and next to it, the words "Chirp chirp" were written in small characters!
What a load of rubbish. All they do is send people around, ugh, investigating cases, appraising paintings—they'll be charging interest next time! And one painting is enough? At least give a real lip print! But kissing on paper is such a waste; it should be on…hehehe…
Gao Junxiao held the corner of the letter and suddenly chuckled. "How much? This little girl dares to offer a reward? It's just that crabapple blossoms sleep early in spring and willows slumber late in the day. The box is inlaid with pink shell flowers and green shell leaves. The answer is too simple. I'll keep the IOU for now and collect it when you return."
Wait a minute, why is there a line of tiny print in the bottom right corner of the list, the size of a grain of rice? Wow, she's got some skills, she could easily switch careers to painting snuff bottles. Gao Junxiao brought the letter closer and closer, and then, *smack*, the letter was slapped against his lips.
"Brother, chirp chirp!"
Damn it, Gao Junxiao grabbed the attacker under his armpit with enough force to crush his bones, but he lost half his strength when he smelled the pine-scented hair wax on the attacker's hair.
"Huang Xiaoxian! Are you looking for death?" Gao Junxiao ground his back teeth and flicked Huang Xiaoxian's forehead.
Huang Xiaoxian cried out in pain, "Ouch, that hurts! Boss, let go!"
Gao Junxiao patted Huang Xiaoxian's round head as if buying a watermelon: "You don't do anything productive all day long. I asked you to have tea with Director Luo, what are you doing here?"
“Boss, Director Luo doesn’t want to stay, so I’m just his follower. Wherever he goes, I go. Guess who we ran into?” Huang Xiaoxian paused deliberately. “The lunatic who blew my head off last time.”
Zhang Chong, how come he's on the other side? Gao Junxiao felt a chill run down his spine.
Perhaps sensing the weakening of her strength, Huang Xiaoxian got even more excited, and in a high-pitched voice, she imitated a female opera singer flicking her water sleeves: "You rascal~ are you worried that your debut performance won't be pretty enough? Well then, I'll give you my treasured 'Yin Yang Great Compendium,' which I've kept for many years. Anyway, I cultivate pure Yang skills, so it won't suit me..."
His arm tightened suddenly. Gao Junxiao remembered that this brat had peeked at his letter home. Anger surged in his heart. He put the letter away, raised his free hand, and pressed his middle finger knuckle against the brat's temple with all his might, hoping to make the brat forget everything.
"Ouch~ Ah~ I was wrong, I was wrong, I'll pay the gift money, double, okay? Uh uh, let go, let go, lol~" Huang Xiaoxian slapped the back of the hand on her neck, her face already turned liver-colored.
Gao Junxiao suddenly let go, and Huang Xiaoxian fell to the ground with a cry of "Ah!" He straightened his belt and announced the end of the punishment: "It was only right. If you talk nonsense again, I'll cut your tongue out."
After a while, Huang Xiaoxian scrambled to her feet and continued her mischievous antics in a high-pitched voice: "Brother, you're so heartless~ Your secret techniques are just martial arts moves. If you want to practice properly, you must first learn the inner workings of martial arts. The most important thing for a man is his primordial yang. Legend has it that Lu Zu fought Bai Mudan for three days and three nights without losing his primordial yang, because he first learned the art of consolidating his primordial yang."
"Shut up!" Gao Junxiao slapped Huang Xiaoxian on the back of the head. How could she have become so frivolous after not seeing her for several years? Doesn't she know the occasion? There are so many people in the warehouse.
To his surprise, he glanced over and saw Master Wu and Captain Pang bumping shoulders, their eyes gleaming with the same mischievous glint, engrossed in a book.
"No, what are you two policemen doing instead of investigating the case?" Gao Junxiao's throat itched. With a last glimmer of hope, he looked at Jiang Yun, who was holding a painting. He and Director Luo, who had entered at some point, were pointing at the painting, both of them beaming.
"Hey, didn't Miss He ask you to appraise the painting? Take a look." Huang Xiaoxian "thoughtfully" unwrapped the ribbon on the scroll.
"Don't open it." Before Gao Junxiao could stop him, the red flowers and green leaves revealed the full splendor of spring in the garden.
With a whoosh, the birds scattered, the suona changed its tune, becoming mournful and plaintive. Gao Junxiao covered his eyes, his heels grinding crescent moons into the ground.
"Look, it's just a normal couple on a date." Huang Xiaoxian forcefully pulled Gao Junxiao's hand down, revealing that the man and woman in the drawing were fully clothed and simply embracing.
Fortunately, people in ancient times were conservative and could not freely choose their partners. We have entered a republic now, and we should not be so closed off. Gao Junxiao had just mentally prepared himself when Huang Xiaoxian spoke up again: "The explicit ones are in Director Luo's hands."
Boom—a thunderbolt carrying the scent of perfume struck Gao Junxiao's crown chakra. Crack! He heard himself split open. Vanish, vanish, all of you vanish.
Unfortunately, God doesn't conjure up people. It wasn't until Director Luo called him that he snapped out of his daze. His brain was still boiling when he heard Director Luo say, "Your in-laws have very good taste. This isn't a later woodblock print. If you look closely at the brushstrokes and seals, it's very likely that it's Tang Yin's lost silk manuscript."
"Isn't it worth a fortune?" Old Wu came over to join in the fun.
"If the complete set of all twenty-four frames of 'Competing Spring' were available, it would truly be priceless," Director Luo said slowly.
"Hmm~ little brother, your good fortune is yet to come. I counted, there are seventy or eighty books in one box, and at least one hundred and fifty books in two boxes. If you finish learning them all, remember to lend your older brother a couple. I've never seen such an expensive fire-avoidance chart before. Hahahaha." Master Wu patted Gao Junxiao's shoulders repeatedly, shattering his cracked face.
"Study hard, I believe in you."
"Take care of your health and have a baby soon."
Jiang Yun and Pang Minyou, one after the other, suppressed their laughter, their faces displaying an ambiguous "I understand" expression. Gao Junxiao tilted his head, counting the dents in the wall, muttering perfunctory "uh-huhs."
Unable to bear everyone's teasing, he took out the dowry list, wanting to get down to business. Only when he got closer did he see the small print: "Ruoxia is bright and cheerful, and her aura is gentle. Do not appreciate paintings in public. Remember, remember."
Heh heh heh, what can be done now that things have come to this? Gao Junxiao wanted to cry but had no tears. He pressed the letter to his chest and sighed, "Sigh~ couldn't you have written the words a little bigger?"
While Gao Junxiao was miserably processing reality, Zhang Chongyi was listlessly smoothing out the wrinkles on his collar. Gao Junxiao, it's Gao Junxiao again. Why is he everywhere? It seems I need to get Xiaohan to hurry up and get the list.
Zhang Chong beckoned to the waiter: "Check, please."
The waiter rushed over from the counter without a bill: "Sir, someone has already paid your bill."
"Who?" Zhang Chong frowned; he hated owing people favors the most.
“A young gentleman, who said his surname was Xia, is your friend,” the waiter replied honestly.
Mr. Xia! Zhang Chong suddenly leaned out of the window. The bustling street was filled with people, and anyone could be Mr. Xia. The best way to hide a drop of water is to hide it in the sea.
In recent days, rumors have been circulating in Shanghai's black market that a wealthy man from the north has made a special trip south to purchase Tang Yin's long-lost "secret play treasures" at great expense. The news has spread like wildfire to the ears of shopkeepers at various treasure pavilions.
The shopkeepers were all dumbfounded. The name "Tang Yin" alone was worth a fortune in the art world. Moreover, it was a "secret masterpiece" painted by the old man himself, a royal treasure that had flowed out of the Forbidden City. Those were all woodblock prints from the Ming Dynasty.
Genuine? Impossible, absolutely impossible! If there is one, it's a scammer trying to rip you off.
However, overnight, the four head managers all changed their tune, saying that such a treasure existed in the world. The maids were charming but not vulgar, and their colors were gorgeous but not seductive. The scene was still yet dynamic, with the woman hooking the man's chin and the man pulling on the woman's sachet. They were intimately entwined, yet there was no nudity.
Their expressions, as if they wanted to gouge their eyeballs out and stick them onto the painting, sparked the imagination.
According to industry insiders, a short, ugly man came to appraise a treasure in the dead of night. If he hadn't claimed that a big shot had already paid a deposit, the shopkeepers probably would have killed him on the spot.
I've been trying to contact the wealthy northern merchants who went south before. Alas, I'm so out of touch with the world. I wonder where this masterpiece will ultimately be traded?
A dark figure stepped into the depths of the alley as the midnight watchman's drum sounded. The kerosene lamp on the wall flickered, illuminating several fresh muddy footprints on the ground.
Ding-dong! The copper bell rang crisply, signaling that a guest had arrived at Rongbaoxuan!
The old shopkeeper, his face full of wrinkles and his eyelids drooping, was busy working on his copper abacus: "Sir, we've finished making the sample."
"Excuse me, may I pass?" The customer flicked his thumb, and the silver coin flew toward him with a "whoosh." The shopkeeper's expression remained unchanged. He made a grabbing motion with the fingers that were manipulating the abacus, and the silver coin fell into his palm.
The shopkeeper curled up his long little fingernail, blew on it, and listened to it to confirm that the money was real. After confirming that it was genuine, he lazily asked in Wu dialect, "Are you looking for money or visiting friends?"
“Light the lamp. (Point-to-point transaction)” The customer smiled, pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, and spoke in standard Northern Mandarin.
The old shopkeeper's expression changed slightly: "Which way is the wind blowing? (Which gentleman vouched for me?)"
“Three pillars pay homage to heaven and earth, five seas welcome a new dragon king. (Master Wu of the Tong generation)” The guest said as he took out a pocket watch from his suit. The gold watch cover popped open with a “snap,” revealing the character “Wu” clearly printed inside.
The old shopkeeper narrowed his eyes, suddenly pressed down on the guest's hand with his abacus, and asked in a sinister tone, "A government employee?"
Faced with the shopkeeper's challenge, the customer not only didn't get angry, but calmly unbuttoned two buttons and swiped them a few times: "Since ancient times, black and red have been inseparable. If a 'boat' (business) needs to pass through the 'Dragon Gate' (government), how can it swim over without taking a 'stepping stone'?"
"So it's 'Haiqing' (his direct descendant), my apologies!" The old shopkeeper suddenly put away his abacus and reverted to his previous indifferent attitude. "Distinguished guest, please take the 'Road to the Underworld,' the 'middleman' who will be 'setting the table' is waiting for you at the 'Bridge of Helplessness.'"
With the clattering of the machine turning, a dark hole appeared behind the counter.
The customer opened the flip panel on the counter and heard the old man's final advice: "When you see someone 'arranging the food,' first ask, 'When will the banquet begin?' If he replies, 'When the tea gets cold,' then you're on the right track."
Water droplets seeped from the walls of the tunnel, and moss spread between the bricks. Every ten steps, an oil lamp glowed dimly, its flames flickering in the wind from who-knows-where.
After walking several hundred steps, the view suddenly opened up, and the guests couldn't help but widen their eyes. Wasn't this an air-raid shelter? Good heavens, they even dared to break through municipal engineering projects. They were lawless.
At each entrance to the cave, a faded coarse curtain hung, and the tattered cloth spread on the ground became a unique stall, selling calligraphy and paintings, porcelain, bronze tripods, and even miracle pills.
"Oh dear, this is outrageous! They didn't sell enough fake medicine during the day, so they're even selling it on the black market. The world is going to the dogs!" the customer thought to himself, shaking his head helplessly. He continued walking forward, only to find himself at a fork in the road with no markings. Which way should he go?
Just as he hesitated, a strange and dangerous aura came from his right. He subconsciously reached for his lower back, but only touched his belt. He almost forgot that shotguns were not allowed in the black market.
At the intersection of black and white light, there was a mass of something, it was hard to tell whether it was a person or a commodity.
Since we're already here, let's make the best of it. The guest mustered up his courage and asked, "When will the feast begin?"
"At three-quarters past midnight," the shadowy figure uttered in an eerie, hoarse voice.
This is not the agreed-upon code!
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