The commentary from the "Jianghu Hundred Information Scholar" was like a stone thrown into a calm lake, stirring ripples in Chǔ Xīngxuán's heart that refused to subside.
Beyond fear, there was more of a burning curiosity and a desire to investigate. The other party seemed to harbor no immediate malice, more like a… condescending reminder, or perhaps a probe?
"Hold it tight, don't jiggle it around…" Chǔ Xīngxuán repeatedly chewed over these words, his gaze falling once more on the bronze cufflink. This item, it seemed, was more important and sensitive than he had imagined.
"Ling Shu," "dragon-locking stake"… these two new keywords were like traps baited with the scent of allure; knowing there might be danger, he couldn't help but want to explore.
He plunged back into the vast ocean of online information retrieval. This time, the target was clearer, but also more difficult.
The term "Ling Shu" refers to vital acupoints in Traditional Chinese Medicine, and in ancient texts, it often refers to something crucial, a pivot. But when Chǔ Xīngxuán combined it with terms like "earth vein" and "energy" in his search, the results became more mysterious and fragmented.
In a very niche metaphysical forum that required an invitation code to enter, a ten-year-old post mentioned, "The earth vein's Ling Shu, like the great acupoints of the human body; unblocked, the qi flows smoothly; blocked, illness arises. It vaguely hinted that certain ancient buildings or landmarks might be built upon "Ling Shu," but the post had long since sunk to the bottom, and the original poster (OP) had never reappeared. In a small geological enthusiast group, someone had also posted a few strange distribution maps of geomagnetic anomalies. When superimposed with historical city maps, the patterns seemed to faintly align with the locations of "earth qi convergence points" mentioned in some ancient legends, but the poster himself could not explain it, eventually attributing it to measurement errors.
As for the "dragon-locking stake," it was even more mysterious and unfathomable. Most search results directly pointed to myths and legends, such as King Yu Locks the Flood Dragon and Li Bing Controls the Water. However, there were a very small number of post fragments, which were quickly deleted or blocked, mentioning that during construction in certain places, stone pillars or iron pillars carved with runes had been unearthed. Subsequently, the project was inexplicably hindered or strange events occurred. After attracting a small amount of attention, the pillars quietly disappeared, officially explained as ordinary cultural relics or superstition.
This information was even more ethereal and difficult to verify than the "Talisman/ trấn vật." However, Chǔ Xīngxuán acutely noticed a commonality: whether it was the vague concept of "Ling Shu" or the bizarre rumors of "dragon-locking stakes," they all seemed related to concepts of "control," "suppression," and "energy flow."
He recalled the "earth vein node," "Stabilize/Seal" mentioned in the proofreading materials, recalled Sū Xiǎo's words about "stabilizing earth qi," and the Black-clothed hoodie wearer's phrase "suppress and isolate"…
A grander, yet also more dangerous, conjecture gradually formed in his mind: perhaps, in the underground of the city he was in, or even the wider world, there truly existed an unknown "energy system," and certain people or forces throughout history had been influencing this system through methods like "Talisman/ trấn vật" and "dragon-locking stakes" to achieve certain objectives? Stabilization, suppression, or… something else?
This thought sent a shiver down his spine, yet also made him tremble with excitement. If this were true, then the world was far deeper than he imagined!
He was immersed in the ocean of information when suddenly, a faint sound came from outside the door, followed by the sound of the opposite door opening and voices.
Was Lín Wēi back? And was there someone else?
Chǔ Xīngxuán's heart stirred, and he subconsciously gathered his focus, attempting to voluntarily activate that faint sensory ability again. Perhaps stimulated by the grand conjecture just now, it was unusually smooth this time!
His brow twitched slightly, and that sense of "clarity" arrived as expected. Although the range was still small, limited to his doorstep and the opposite corridor.
He "heard" Lín Wēi's voice, carrying a hint of imperceptible fatigue: "Alright, just leave it here. Thank you, Xiǎo Wáng."
Another young male voice replied: "Sister Wēi, you're too kind. Brother Tāo gave the instructions. Please rest well, and call me anytime if you need anything."
"Brother Tāo?" Chǔ Xīngxuán muttered to himself, was it Chén Tāo, the organizer of that salon? Did he know Lín Wēi? And sent someone to deliver something to her?
Then, he "heard" the sound of a cardboard box being placed on the ground, and the footsteps of the young man named Xiǎo Wáng leaving.
Lín Wēi seemed to stand at the door and sigh before closing it and going inside.
Chǔ Xīngxuán's sensory ability also quickly faded. He touched his chin, feeling that the mysterious aura around his neighbor had deepened.
Did she also have connections with Chén Tāo's folklore graduate student circle?
Several days later, Chǔ Xīngxuán received a new package – the third batch of materials from his part-time job. This time, there were fewer items, only a thin few pages, but the content made his pupils contract.
This was a rougher set of notes, more like hurried jottings, with several simple, distorted rune diagrams drawn on it. Next to them were annotations: "Suspected fragments of 'dragon-locking rune,' transcribed from the Ruined Stele in the Western Suburbs. The stele is destroyed." Another page contained a blurry sketch, resembling a compass locator, with a "cross" marked at the center and the words: "'Ling Shu' abnormal fluctuation point? (Doubtful, requires re-testing)"
Dragon-locking rune! Ling Shu fluctuation point!
These two keywords, which he had just acquired, appeared directly in the part-time job materials!
Chǔ Xīngxuán's heart pounded wildly. This was definitely not a coincidence!
What was hidden behind this seemingly ordinary part-time job? Who was the middle-aged woman with the tired voice who had been contacting him via email? Was she (or the organization behind her) also investigating these things?
He felt as if he had touched the edge of a vast network, and he himself was unknowingly being drawn into it.
He suppressed his excitement and proofread the transcribed content more carefully, scrutinizing every character and every diagram, trying to decipher more information. He even subconsciously memorized those so-called "dragon-locking runes."
During a break, he stood up to stretch, and while getting water, he unintentionally saw a small cardboard box placed outside the opposite door – the one that "Xiǎo Wáng" had delivered that day. It seemed unopened.
Acting on an impulse, he tried to activate his sensory ability again, wanting to "feel" what was inside the box.
This activation was much more difficult than before; it took several attempts to succeed, and the sensory range was even smaller, barely reaching the opposite door.
However, as his faint sensory perception swept over the cardboard box, he felt a strange, very weak "sense of resistance"! It was as if something inside the box was faintly interfering with, or rather, "repelling," his perception!
Chǔ Xīngxuán was startled! There was something in that box!
Just then, the opposite door opened. Lín Wēi walked out. Seeing Chǔ Xīngxuán looking at the cardboard box outside her door, she was slightly taken aback, then smiled gently, "Mr. Chǔ?"
Chǔ Xīngxuán was startled and quickly withdrew his sensory ability, pointing somewhat awkwardly at the box, "Ah, Miss Lin, are you going out? This box… do you need help carrying it inside?" He tried to cover up his gaffe.
Lín Wēi smiled, "No need, thank you. Just some old things a friend gave me, not very heavy." As she spoke, she bent down and easily lifted the not-so-small cardboard box, appearing to do so effortlessly.
Chǔ Xīngxuán's eyes twitched slightly. That box didn't look light… This neighbor lady's strength didn't seem to match her appearance.
Lín Wēi, carrying the box, seemed to hesitate for a moment, then took out a well-packaged, individually wrapped small box from it and handed it to Chǔ Xīngxuán, "By the way, Mr. Chǔ, a friend gave me some extra local specialty pastries from my hometown. They taste quite good. Would you like to try some if you don't mind?"
Chǔ Xīngxuán was stunned. For him? Pastries?
He subconsciously took the small box. It felt cool to the touch and was beautifully packaged. "This… this is too kind…"
"We're neighbors, don't be polite," Lín Wēi smiled gently. "I noticed you seem to stay up late writing often, so eat something sweet to replenish your energy. I'll head in now." With that, she carried the large cardboard box, turned back into her room, and closed the door.
Chǔ Xīngxuán stood there, holding the exquisitely packaged box of pastries, looking at the closed door opposite him, his feelings complex.
Was this… a gesture of goodwill? A hush-up fee? Or just simple neighborly courtesy?
He looked down at the pastry box, then recalled the faint "sense of resistance" from the box just now, and Lín Wēi's strength that didn't match her appearance…
The mysteries surrounding this neighbor, "Miss Lin," were piling up.
And he himself, unknowingly, was being drawn tighter and tighter into a web woven from clues from the internet, the salon, his part-time job, and his neighbors.
He returned to his room and opened the box of pastries. A sweet aroma wafted out. He picked up a delicately made mung bean cake and took a bite. It was sweet but not greasy, melting in his mouth.
It tasted really good.
But as Chǔ Xīngxuán ate the pastry, his mind was on: Beneath this seemingly calm daily life, how many surging undercurrents were hidden?
(End of Chapter Sixteen)