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

As the car crossed the Waibaidu Bridge, Chen Che suddenly said, "Stop for a moment."

The driver applied the brakes, and the Ford sedan slowly pulled over to the side of the road. Chen Che opened the car door, got out, and stood by the bridge railing, gazing absently at the Huangpu River.

Chen San followed, but didn't say anything; he just stood there to the side.

Several small steamers were slowly gliding on the river, their black smoke billowing from their chimneys and being dispersed by the wind. Further away, the row of Western-style buildings on the Bund gleamed grayish-white in the thin winter sun. Just then, the clock on the Customs House rang out, its heavy chimes pressing down on the water.

"Young Master, what are you thinking about?"

Chen Che didn't answer. He stared at the river for a long time, then suddenly asked, "Chen San, what do you think is under the Huangpu River?"

Chen San was taken aback: "Down there? Isn't it just mud, water, and fish, shrimp, shellfish, and stuff like that?"

"What if we go even deeper?"

"A little deeper..." Chen San scratched his head. "I don't know. Young Master, why are you suddenly asking this?"

Chen Che shook his head, turned around and went back to the car.

The car started again and headed south along the Bund. Chen Che leaned back in his seat, but his mind was still on that dark entrance, the damp, sweet-smelling smell, and Akutagawa's meaningful look when he left.

"Young Master, shall we go directly to the Zhong family?"

Chen Che snapped out of his reverie: "Let's go to the bookstore first."

Chen San was somewhat surprised, but he didn't ask any further questions and instructed the driver to change course and drive to Fourth Road.

The Zhonghua Bookstore on Sima Road has a small storefront, but it's quite deep inside. When Chen Che entered, there weren't many people in the store, and the shopkeeper was dozing off at the counter.

"Excuse me, do you have any books about local customs and traditions?"

The shopkeeper looked up, rubbed his eyes, and said, "Local customs and traditions? Yes, yes, this way please."

He led Chen Che inside and took down several thread-bound books from the top shelf: "The Record of Shanghai's Defense Against Japanese Pirates, The Record of Residences in Yunjian, The Record of Songjiang Prefecture—which one would you like, sir?"

Chen Che flipped through the books and asked, "Are there any books specifically about earth veins and feng shui?"

The shopkeeper paused for a moment, looked him up and down, and his expression became subtle: "Well... sir, are you inquiring for someone else, or do you want to see it yourself?"

See for yourself.

The shopkeeper hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice and said, "Sir, it's not that I don't want to sell it to you, it's just that this book is hard to find. A few years ago, there was a book called 'A Study of the Dragon Vein of Shanghai,' written by an old scholar named Xu who devoted his life to this subject. Not many copies were printed, and I heard it was banned by the Shanghai Municipal Council as soon as it came out."

"Banned? Why?"

"They say it contains some things that shouldn't be written." The shopkeeper leaned closer, lowering his voice even further. "I heard that the book contains a diagram showing the direction of the dragon veins beneath Shanghai. You see, matters of dragon veins have always been taboo for the government—especially since at that time, foreigners were building racecourses and main roads, digging foundations everywhere. Some people say that the book was deliberately going against the foreigners and stirring up trouble."

Chen Che's heart skipped a beat: "Have you seen that book?"

"I saw it once," the shopkeeper recalled. "It was thick, with a dark blue cover and the words 'Study of the Dragon Vein of Shanghai' printed on it. Inside, there were many drawings, dense lines, none of which I could understand."

"Is this book still available?"

The shopkeeper shook his head: "It's unlikely. Back then, the Public Works Bureau sent people and took away all the books in the printing house. I heard they were all burned. But..."

He paused, as if considering his words: "It seems that Scholar Xu is still alive. If we can find him, he might still have the original manuscript."

"Where is Scholar Xu now?"

"Well..." The shopkeeper rubbed his hands awkwardly. "More than ten years have passed, who knows? But I remember he used to live near the City God Temple, on Fangbang Road, I think, and ran a small framing shop. Why don't you go ask there?"

Chen Che thanked the shopkeeper, left the bookstore, and instructed the driver to head towards the City God Temple.

Fangbang Road is a narrow old street lined with all sorts of small shops—selling incense and candles, tin foil, clay figurines, and pear syrup candy. Chen Che walked along asking for "framed picture shops," but after asking seven or eight, none of them knew.

As he walked to the end of the street, an old woman selling tea eggs heard his question, raised her eyelids to look at him, and said, "Scholar Xu? You mean that Mr. Xu who paints? He moved away a long time ago, to the old town area."

Do you know exactly where he lives?

The old lady shook her head and looked down at her tea egg pot.

Chen San couldn't help but mutter, "Young Master, why don't we go back first and have Uncle Qian send someone to inquire slowly?"

Chen Che ignored him, took out two silver dollars from his pocket, and gently placed them next to the old lady's tea egg pot.

"Auntie, please think about it again."

The old lady glanced at the silver dollar and slowly said, "Let me think... Mr. Xu seems to have moved to the Xiaonanmen area. His nephew runs a general store there, his surname is Zhou, what's his name again...?"

"Zhou what?"

"Zhou..." The old lady frowned and thought for a long time. "Zhou Fu! Yes, Zhou Fu Ji Grocery Store. You can find it by asking around Xiaonanmen. That store has been open for many years."

Chen Che pushed the silver dollar forward, thanked him, and turned to leave.

Chen San jogged to catch up, muttering to himself, "Young Master, you gave her way too much! It was just asking for directions, and one yuan is enough for her to sell tea eggs for a year."

Chen Che didn't reply, but quickened his pace.

The sky was already getting dark, and a few lights were twinkling in the streets and alleys of the old city. He didn't know why he was in such a hurry, but he had a vague feeling that Xu Xiucai, the one who wrote the banned book, might know something.

What do you know?

He himself couldn't explain it clearly.

But that hole, that sweet, fishy smell, that uncomfortable feeling—he had to find out what was down there.

Xiaonanmen was more bustling than the City God Temple area, with all sorts of stalls and vendors lining the streets. Chen Che stopped in a crowded spot and flagged down a man carrying a shoulder pole selling wontons: "Excuse me, could you tell me how to get to Zhou Fuji Grocery Store?"

The man selling wontons put down his load and pointed east: "Go straight to the end, turn left, and it's the second alley. The one with the 'Zhou' sign hanging at the door is it."

Chen Che thanked him and followed the directions.

The alley was deep, and it got darker the further you went in. The houses on both sides were crowded together, all old-fashioned brick and wood structures, with the eaves almost touching, squeezing the sky into a narrow slit.

Zhou Fuji Grocery Store was located at the very end of the alley. The storefront was small, with a dim kerosene lamp hanging at the entrance, illuminating the faded "Zhou" signboard. Behind the counter sat a middle-aged man, calculating on an abacus by the light of the lamp.

Chen Che walked in, and the man looked up with the usual businessman's smile: "What would you like, sir? Oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, needles and thread—our shop has them all."

"I'm looking for Scholar Xu."