roccoschili Chapter 112 A New Scene with Glazed Glasses, Old Atmosphere Dazzles the Eyes
Chapter 112 A New Scene with Glazed Glasses, Old Atmosphere Dazzles the Eyes
Chapter 113 A New Scene with Glazed Glasses, Old Atmosphere Dazzles the Eyes
As evening fell, a yellow fog descended upon Liulichang. Lanterns hung under the archway at the street entrance, but their light couldn't penetrate the fog, only making the old signs on both sides appear worn and faded.
The plaques of Boguzhai, Rongbaozhai, and several other calligraphy and painting shops were all shrouded in that yellowish aura, the edges of the characters darkened.
Normally, this street is known for its elegance and scholarly atmosphere, but today, from a distance, it looks like a row of old shops with their doors closed, waiting for a funeral procession.
Cheng Xiaojin and his group stopped at the street corner.
He wore thick cotton gloves, with another layer of dry cloth wrapped around them, and a red scarf that Tong Kexin had insisted on giving him around his neck.
The red mark on his pale face was quite jarring.
Tieguai Li glanced at him sideways and said, "Your attire makes you look like a candied hawthorn vendor who's gone astray and wandered into the graveyard."
Cheng Xiaojin sniffed. "Wouldn't it be better to be more festive? Liulichang looks so gloomy, someone has to do something to brighten it up."
Tang Wanqing took out the Bagua mirror, and as soon as half an inch of the mirror surface was exposed, her palm felt as if it had been burned.
She used a red cloth to cover the mirror back up, saying, "Don't touch the windows on both sides; the lingering odor has already seeped into the street."
Zhou Banxian stuffed the wine pot into his bosom, pressed the compass against his chest, and said, "The seventh gate of Qi reversed, and the spirit layer of the artifacts in Liulichang was awakened first. The craftsmen resented, the merchants were greedy, and the concubines in the paintings and calligraphy hated. They were all mixed up in one pot."
Tieguai Li took a step forward, and his prosthetic leg landed on the bluestone slab, sinking in by half a finger.
He looked down and wondered, "Does this stone slab eat people?"
"Old gas foot pressure".
Cheng Xiaojin lowered his eyes, only looking at the three inches in front of his shoes. "Look at the ground, not the shop window. If anyone sees the person in the painting smiling at you, it'll be too late to slap themselves when they get back."
Tang Wanqing whispered, "Bite the tip of your tongue, hold your saliva in your mouth. When the smell of saliva gets in your eyes, this little bit of warm air in your mouth is the most effective. Don't spit it out."
Tieguai Li grinned, "Walking through Liulichang with blood on your hands, what a show."
Several people walked inside.
Yellow mist clung to my ankles, dark water seeped from the cracks in the bluestone slabs, most of the shops on both sides were closed, but it was not quiet behind the glass.
In the Zuoshou calligraphy and painting shop, a stream in a landscape painting flows down the paper, reaches the edge of the scroll, and then retracts back into the paper.
In the Boyaxuan shop window on the right, several porcelain vases had been moved, their mouths now facing the street, appearing dark and empty.
Cheng Xiaojin whispered, "Don't look up."
Tieguai Li gripped the wrench tightly. "I didn't lift it, I just felt those bottles were staring at me."
"The bottle doesn't have eyes."
"It has a mouth."
With blood dripping from the tip of his tongue, Zhou the fortune teller spoke incoherently, "Shut up, the more you talk, the more it sounds real."
As I approached the used bookstore, I could hear the sound of pages turning inside.
The pages rustled, and a breeze, carrying the smells of mildew and ink, slipped in from under the door.
A thread-bound book is placed against the glass, and the pages turn by themselves, revealing crooked, distorted words that slowly form a line.
Cheng Xiaojin caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye and immediately started cursing, "Don't look at the words."
Tang Wanqing flicked the red thread in her hand backward, and the end of the thread draped over Tieguai Li's shoulder.
Just as Tieguai Li was about to raise his face, he was slapped on the ear.
"Ouch, Miss Tang, please be gentle!"
"You wanted to see that just now."
"It's an occupational hazard; I always check if this thing is valuable first."
"Life is valuable."
Cheng Xiaojin added, "His life isn't valuable, it's his prosthetic leg that's expensive."
Just as Tieguai Li was about to retort, footsteps came from the fog.
A figure dressed in a Qing Dynasty robe walked up ahead, holding a chipped blue-and-white porcelain bowl in his hands. His face was pale, and his eyes drooped downwards.
It walked very fast, its shoulders didn't sway, its feet didn't touch the ground, and the bowl was half full of black water.
Zhou Banxian, unable to utter a curse despite his bloody breath, could only nudge Cheng Xiaojin with his elbow.
Cheng Xiaojin didn't back down; his eyes were still fixed on the bluestone slab beneath his feet. "Qi Ying, don't make eye contact."
The figure walked three feet in front of him and handed him the bowl of black water.
The bowl was cold, and inside were the shadows of silver ingots, account books, and several hands reaching out.
Tang Wanqing had just raised the red thread in her hand when Cheng Xiaojin spoke first, "Brother Li, knock on the copper bucket over there."
Tieguai Li reacted quickly, snatched the wrench, and smashed it against a bronze trash can on the roadside.
With a clang, the metallic echo rolled away, and the display windows on both sides trembled.
The figure holding the bowl was shaken apart; the jacket collapsed first, followed by the face and the bowl shattering into ashes. The black water didn't even hit the ground; it was swallowed directly by the bluestone slab.
Zhou Banxian swallowed the blood from the tip of his tongue, choking and coughing for a long time. "Damn it, isn't this a ghost?"
"It's not a prank."
Tang Wanqing stared at the place where the gray mist dissipated, "A hundred-year-old obsession wrapped in old energy was pushed out by the seventh gate of energy. If you had looked at what was in the bowl just now, your soul would have been dragged away by that debt."
Tieguai Li looked at the bronze bucket and thought, "This broken bucket is actually quite useful."
Cheng Xiaojin said, "Copper may not ward off evil spirits, but a loud noise can break the old atmosphere. The people in Liulichang love to put on airs and are most afraid of people smashing their little facades in the street."
Tieguai Li laughed, "Then I'm good at this."
A few dozen steps further on, the fog became even more yellow.
On the left, half of a scroll is sticking out from the crack in the door of a framing shop. The painting depicts a woman in palace attire with her back to the street and her hair trailing long.
Tang Wanqing moved to Cheng Xiaojin's side, "Don't listen to her."
She hasn't said anything yet.
Cheng Xiaojin felt a bitter taste in his throat.
There was indeed a woman calling "Xiao Jin" in his ear, her voice soft, as if it were coming through a crack in the door.
The voice sounded a lot like Lu Mingzhu's, but he couldn't remember his mother's full voice after he was six years old. He only remembered that when he was a child, someone hummed a short tune to him in his bed.
His steps were a beat slower.
Tong Kexin wasn't around, so no one hit him on the head with a spoon.
Tang Wanqing slipped a copper coin into the seam of his scarf, pressing it against his throat through the cloth without touching his skin. "Cheng Xiaojin, look at your feet."
Cheng Xiaojin looked down and saw a half-smoked cigarette butt stuck in the crack of the bluestone slab in front of his shoe.
The cigarette butt was old, the cigarette paper was yellowed, and there was a small tooth mark on the filter.
He didn't bend down. "Master Ma."
Master Ma saw it too, and his face darkened. "They're trying to make us think this is a cigarette Shouyi smoked."
Tieguai Li asked, "Can I pick it up?"
Tang Wanqing immediately interrupted, "No, whoever picks it up will be drawn into the painting by its old atmosphere."
Zhou Banxian couldn't squat down, so he just used his compass to look at it. "There's the aura of the Cheng family on the cigarette butt. Someone deliberately placed it here."
Cheng Xiaojin stared at the cigarette butt. "It might not be a person."
The copper bell rang again in the mist, one sound after another.
The copper-clad wooden door of Boguzhai is already visible, and two shop assistants stand in front of it, their faces as white as if they've been powdered.
The sound of chanting, bells, and someone shouting in a low voice to calm down came from inside the door.
Han Shaobai rushed out from inside, wearing a yellow vest over his suit, and a red cloth hat on his head, given to him by some unknown master.
Upon seeing Cheng Xiaojin, he almost burst into tears.
"Brother Cheng, you've finally arrived!"
Cheng Xiaojin looked him up and down. "Young Master Han, your outfit is quite complete, a hodgepodge of different pieces. Even Yincheng wouldn't know which faction to classify you against."
Han Shaobai grabbed his sleeve, not daring to touch him, "Stop joking, all five groups of masters inside are here, and Buddha just turned around a bit again, his eyes are already looking at the elevator entrance."
Tieguai Li asked, "You must have spent a lot of money inviting so many people?"
Han Shao's face scrunched up. "What's money? My husband, Lao Feng, still has frequent urination."
Cheng Xiaojin looked up at the plaque above the entrance to Boguzhai.
Water droplets dripped from under the plaque, each drop making a soft sound as it hit the steps.
Tang Wanqing said, "The atmosphere inside and outside the door is different, so don't wander around after you go in."
Zhou the fortune teller stared at the compass. "The seventh entrance is underground."
Master Ma stood in front of the door, his face very somber. "Back then, Shouyi entered through here."
Han Shaobai didn't understand. "Who?"
Cheng Xiaojin did not answer.
Through his gloves, he took the unlit Zhonghua cigarette from behind his ear and held it between his fingers.
He flicked the cigarette butt slightly toward the door, and a wisp of cold air escaped from the tobacco.
Tieguai Li gripped the wrench tightly. "Go in?"
Cheng Xiaojin tucked the cigarette back behind his ear. "Go in and see if Han Shao's 500,000 yuan bought him a chance to turn the Buddha around or just open a crack in the seventh door."
The chanting inside the gate became disordered.
Someone inside screamed, "The Buddha moved again!"
Han Shaobai's legs went weak, and he was supported by Zhou Jie's cousin.
A crack appeared in the copper-clad wooden door of Boguzhai, and a cold, yellow mist wafted out along the ground, accompanied by a chaotic cacophony of bells.
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