A Life of Attributes Starting as a Nobleman in the Republic of China Era

The streets were crowded with all sorts of shops: antiques, calligraphy and paintings, old books, and medicinal herbs. Signs were packed together, and banners were placed side by side.

The air was filled with the musty smell of old paper, the bitter aroma of medicinal herbs, and the smoky smell of cooking oil wafting from street food stalls.

The sounds of hawking, bargaining, and laughter mingled together, creating a noisy yet lively atmosphere.

Chen Che wandered around, and although there were many things for sale on the stalls, there was nothing that caught his eye.

After walking a few steps, a two-story old-fashioned attic came into view.

The building is in the style of the previous dynasty, with blue bricks and gray tiles, and upturned eaves, making it stand out among the low shops.

A plaque hangs above the door with three large characters: Qianming Tower.

The calligraphy is in the Yan style, powerful and weighty, but the plaque is old and blackened, with traces of insect damage on the edges, indicating that it has been there for many years.

Chen Che stepped over the threshold.

As soon as you enter, the light suddenly dims.

The shop has only one small window, and the main light source is a few electric lights hanging overhead, which illuminate the antique shelves on the four walls.

The shelves were filled to the brim with porcelain, jade, wood, and all sorts of other items, arranged neatly and meticulously.

Behind the counter sat a middle-aged man in a gray cloth long gown, holding a thread-bound book in his hands. Hearing footsteps, he raised his eyelids.

"What would you like to see, sir?" The voice was neither warm nor cold.

Chen Che walked to the counter and said, "I'm looking for some ancient books on stance training and external martial arts."

The middle-aged man put down his book and glanced at Chen Che.

"A cultivation technique?" The middle-aged man slowly stood up. "What level? Which school?"

Chen Che thought for a moment and said, "For advanced stance training and external martial arts, the sect doesn't matter, as long as it's authentic."

The middle-aged man's eyebrows twitched slightly upon hearing this.

"Are you from out of town, sir?" He chuckled. "Sir, you have quite the airs. High-level cultivation techniques, in the previous dynasty, would have been reserved for the imperial library..."

He didn't finish his sentence, looking at Chen Che as if waiting for something.

Chen Che didn't reply, but took out a silver note from his pocket and gently placed it on the counter.

It was a bank note from Xianfeng Bank, worth a full five thousand silver dollars.

The middle-aged man's gaze fell on the silver note, paused, and a hint of disappointment appeared on his face.

"No, you can try other places."

Chen Che then took out a 10,000 tael silver note and spread it on the table.

The middle-aged man smiled and said, "Business is all about fate. What you're looking for, we really don't have."

Why not make money when you can?

Chen Che's interest was piqued. He looked at the middle-aged man without saying a word, took out the divination token he had taken from Wang Jian's spine from his clothes, and placed it on the table.

The middle-aged man's gaze fell on the hexagram, and his pupils suddenly contracted.

The air suddenly became quiet.

The noise outside the shop continued, but inside the dimly lit room, only the ticking of the old clock on the wall could be heard.

The middle-aged man slowly approached and examined it carefully. Under the dim light, the bone-white token gleamed with a faint glow, and the patterns engraved on it resembled some kind of ancient script.

"This thing..." His voice trailed off, "Where did the customer get it?"

Chen Che did not answer.

The middle-aged man didn't ask any further questions. He straightened up, remained silent for a moment, then suddenly walked around the counter to the door and closed the half-closed door tightly.

The light dimmed a bit more.

He turned back, the politeness on his face gone, replaced by an expression of reverence.

"Are you the young master Chen who challenged the Green Gang?"

He suddenly cupped his hands in greeting and bowed deeply.

"I was blind to your greatness. Please wait a moment."

After saying that, he turned around, lifted a curtain behind the counter, and disappeared into the shadows.

Chen Che stood still, his gaze sweeping over the antique shelves around him.

The bottles and jars cast long, slanted shadows under the dim light.

He could faintly hear footsteps coming from behind the curtain—it was two people.

A moment later, the curtain was lifted.

The middle-aged man stepped forward first and stood to the side. Behind him followed an old man with snow-white hair, neatly combed, wearing a faded dark blue long gown, so thin that he looked as if a gust of wind could blow him over.

The old man walked to the counter and his gaze fell on the divination token.

He stared at it for a long time, then slowly raised his head, looked at Chen Che, and suddenly smiled.

"The order of the divination." The old man's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against wood. "It's been so many years since I've seen it."

"Young man," he began slowly, "do you know where this thing came from?"

Chen Che said, "I killed a yao person and took it from his body."

Upon hearing this, the old man's face changed color.

"Killed him?" he repeated. "How did he kill him?"

"He tried to kill me, but I stopped him."

"The command of the hexagram... a high-level cultivation technique..." the old man muttered to himself.

After a while, he suddenly said, "It's against the rules to explain to you here. Come to the Ghost Market tonight at midnight to find me."

A ghost market?

He had heard of that place.

They open at midnight and close at dawn, engaging in shady business.

Heirlooms stolen and sold by princes and nobles of the previous dynasty, loot disposed of by notorious thieves, and martial arts manuals of dubious origin all circulated there.

However, the location of the ghost market is never fixed, and the rules are very strange. Without an introduction, you can't find your way around at all.

"May I ask your name, sir?" Chen Che asked.

The old man waved his hand: "When you arrive at the entrance of the City God Temple in Nanshi at midnight, someone will naturally come to meet you."

After saying that, he turned and disappeared behind the curtain at the counter.

The middle-aged man saw Chen Che off and said in a low voice, "Young Master Chen, Old Master Zhong rarely sees people, let alone invites anyone to the Ghost Market. You... have caught his eye."

Chen Che glanced at him, didn't ask any questions, just nodded, and turned to walk into the streets and alleys of Nanshi in the afternoon.

Li Yu asked, "Young Master, shall we go straight back to the Peace Hotel?"

Chen Che thought for a moment and said, "Let's go to Zhabei first."

The rickshaw turned a corner and headed towards Zhabei.

He was going to check out that shantytown.

It's not about the acquisition—those things will be handled by the people below.

He wanted to see the rickshaw pullers, the children running barefoot in the mud, and the hunched-over figures waiting for work.

"Since it was bestowed by Heaven, it should be equally enjoyed by the people."

He still remembered what Cangming had shown him.

The car stopped in the shantytown area of ​​Zhabei.

Chen Che pushed open the car door and stepped onto the muddy ground.

The setting sun was casting a fiery orange glow across the horizon.

Smoke rose from the chimneys of the shantytown and drifted into the darkening sky.

He stood on that muddy ground, looking at the densely packed shacks in front of him, and at the figures of people running around in the smoke from the chimneys, and suddenly thought of Cangming's eyes.

Is this the kind of scene that would soften those eyes?

A river breeze carrying a fishy smell blew over, ruffling his clothes.

Chen Che took a deep breath and turned to walk towards the car.