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

The man's smile froze for a moment, then returned to normal: "Scholar Xu? Who's that? Sir, you've come to the wrong place."

Chen Che looked at him without saying anything, but took out two silver notes from his pocket and gently placed them on the counter.

The man's gaze lingered on the silver note for a moment before quickly shifting away, his face showing a hint of wariness: "What do you mean by this, sir?"

"I heard that Scholar Xu is staying here; his nephew told me." Chen Che paused. "I mean no harm; I just want to ask him about something. Something very important."

The man was silent for a while, then suddenly sighed.

"Please wait a moment."

He turned and lifted the curtain, entering the inner room. After a while, a coughing sound came from inside, followed by rustling noises.

The curtain was lifted again, and a thin old man came out.

He wore a faded gray cloth robe, his hair was gray, and the wrinkles on his face were as deep as if etched by a knife. But his eyes were still bright, and when they fell on Chen Che, they held a scrutinizing gaze.

"Young man, you're looking for me?"

The old man walked to the counter, but instead of looking at the two silver notes, he looked Chen Che up and down.

"You must be Mr. Xu?" Chen Che bowed slightly.

"I'm just a wretched old man, not worth calling 'Mr.' or anything like that." The old man waved his hand, his voice hoarse like sandpaper rubbing against wood, "What do you want from me?"

Chen Che carefully considered his words: "I heard that you wrote a book called 'A Study of the Dragon Veins of Shanghai' in your early years. I would like to borrow it to take a look."

The old man's expression changed slightly, and his clear eyes suddenly sharpened: "That book... it was over ten years ago, it's long gone."

"The shopkeeper said you might still have the original manuscript."

"The shopkeeper?" the old man sneered. "That guy from Zhonghua Book Company? What does he know?"

After he finished speaking, he turned around and was about to walk inside.

"Mr. Xu, please wait a moment." Chen Che took a step forward. "I don't mean anything by it. I just... just want to know what's under the Huangpu River."

The old man stopped in his tracks.

He slowly turned around and stared into Chen Che's eyes for a long time. In his gaze were surprise, hesitation, and something else that was hard to describe—like fear, or perhaps some long-buried vigilance.

"Who are you?" The old man's voice suddenly changed, no longer the hoarse and tired tone from before, but carrying a strange solemnity.

"His surname is Chen, Chen Che."

"Young man," he finally spoke, his voice hoarse like a rusty iron gate, "tell me first, why do you want to know these things? What happened to you?"

Chen Che hesitated for a moment before telling the old man what had happened.

"The cave?" the old man's voice suddenly rose. "You went down there?"

"I went in a little bit, but I didn't dare go too deep."

The old man's face turned extremely grim. He grabbed the banknotes from the counter, shoved them back into Chen Che's hand, and then turned to the middle-aged man, saying, "Ah Fu, close up shop. We're closed today."

"uncle!"

"close the door!"

The middle-aged man didn't dare ask any more questions and quickly got up to lay out the door panels. The old man, on the other hand, grabbed Chen Che's sleeve and practically dragged him into the inner room.

The inner room was even darker than the outer room, with only a small oil lamp. The old man asked Chen Che to sit down, and then rummaged through the chests and cabinets for a while before finally taking out a roll of yellowed paper from a locked wooden box.

He hesitated for a long time, as if making an extremely difficult decision. Finally, he sighed and unfolded the roll of paper on the table.

It was a hand-drawn map.

The map depicts the outline of the entire city of Shanghai, with the Huangpu River winding through it, and the Bund, the old city, the concessions, the racecourse… all clearly marked. But none of these are the most important. The most important thing is the dense network of red lines drawn on the map, extending outwards from underground in the old city, like a giant spider web, traversing the entire city.

Where those lines converge, that is—

"The shacks in Zhabei," Chen Che blurted out.

The old man nodded, his finger lightly tapping on the map: "This is the dragon vein map from back then. The red lines mark the underground currents, which are also the feng shui lifeline of the entire city of Shanghai. The cave you mentioned..." His finger moved downwards, "...is it here?"

Chen Che examined it carefully and nodded: "More or less."

The old man withdrew his hand, his expression extremely complex.

"More than 30 years ago, someone dug up something they shouldn't have in that area. My master went down to investigate, and after returning, he fell seriously ill and passed away not long after."

"What...did he see down there?"

The old man remained silent for a long time.

"My master said something to me before he died." His voice was so low it was as if he were talking to himself. "He said: 'There's not nothing down there, but everything is still there.'"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't understand either," the old man shook his head. "But my master said that thing has always been down there, just sealed off. The person who sealed it used very powerful methods; ordinary people simply couldn't break through. But all these years of digging and building underground, who knows if they've disturbed anything they shouldn't have?"

He paused, looking at Chen Che: "When you went down into that cave, did you smell anything?"

Chen Che's heart skipped a beat: "Yes. It tastes sweet and metallic, like rust, or maybe..."

"It looks like blood?" the old man finished for him.

The two looked at each other, and the air in the room seemed to freeze instantly.

Xu Xiucai's lips trembled slightly, and his fingers tapped the table unconsciously, making a rapid "tap-tap" sound. After a long while, he sat down again, his voice low and deep, as if squeezed from his chest:

Do you know about the Mohist school?

Chen Che was taken aback.

"Among the various schools of thought in the pre-Qin period, the Mohist school advocated universal love and non-aggression."

"That's right." Scholar Xu nodded. "But what the world doesn't know is that the Mohists' greatest skill is 'suppression'."

"Suppression?"

"Suppress things that shouldn't exist." Xu Xiucai's voice was extremely low. "During the pre-Qin period, the world was in chaos, and evil spirits abounded. The disciples of the Mohist school traveled to various states, ostensibly helping the feudal lords defend their cities and build weapons, but secretly they were doing something else entirely—sealing up those things that shouldn't remain in the world and suppressing them underground."

He paused, looking into Chen Che's eyes: "The method your grandfather used to seal the thing that my master asked me to go down and see was the Mohist approach."

Chen Che's heart skipped a beat: "You mean, the cave beneath the old city was left by the Mohists?"

"It's not just the old town." Scholar Xu shook his head. "The Mohists do things according to rules and regulations, leaving no blind spots. If they're going to suppress something, they can't just suppress one place."

He pulled out the tattered notebook and turned to one of the pages. On that page was a sketch, and the crooked handwriting read:

"...In the area of ​​Hudu, there are unusual underwater phenomena. The Mohists sealed it with mechanisms in seven places, forming the shape of the Big Dipper, to suppress its energy..."

Chen Che leaned closer to look, his heart suddenly racing: "Seven places?"

"Seven points." Scholar Xu held up seven fingers. "Arranged in the shape of the Big Dipper, forming a triangular network. If these seven points are connected, the suppressive power will be inexhaustible. If any one point is damaged, the pressure on the other six points will increase exponentially, sooner or later—"

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was crystal clear.