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

Chen Che watched Sun Congzhou leave, his gaze falling on the still-swirling snow outside the window. The lights of the Peace Hotel glowed warm yellow against the snowy backdrop, a stark contrast to the chilling atmosphere brought by Zhang Xiaolin earlier.

The music in the dance floor continued to play, and it seemed that no one had noticed the brief exchange that had just taken place. Or perhaps, in Shanghai, the comings and goings of the Six and a Half Hall were commonplace and nothing to be surprised about.

Chen Che, holding a glass of untouched red wine, walked to the window. His face was reflected in the glass; young and indifferent, yet a hint of weariness lingered in his eyes.

"Young Master." A low, hoarse voice sounded from behind.

Chen Che didn't turn around. The only person in the entire Peace Hotel who could approach silently from that direction was the old butler, Uncle Qian.

"You found it?"

Uncle Qian bowed slightly, his graying eyebrows revealing a pair of cloudy yet shrewd eyes: "The Six and a Half Hall's hideout isn't in the concession, but deep in Yong'an Lane in Pudong, in a house converted from an old warehouse. It has three floors above ground, and supposedly two more below. People live above ground, and what's enshrined below... nobody knows for sure."

"Nobody can say for sure?" Chen Che turned around.

"No one who went in has ever come out." Uncle Qian's tone was calm, as if he were saying that the weather was nice today. "However, this old servant has learned something—every time the full moon is on, the left and right Dharma protectors will leave the main hall at the same time and head towards Longhua Temple, returning only at dawn. Tonight is the sixteenth of the twelfth lunar month, the full moon has just passed, but according to custom, they will also go there on the seventeenth night, saying it is for 'supplementary offerings'."

A glint flashed in Chen Che's eyes: "So, the Left and Right Protectors aren't here tonight?"

"At least one of them is not here," Chamberlain corrected. "The other will stay in the main hall to preside over the 'night watch'."

"Keeping watch?"

"The rule of the Six and a Half Hall is that on the nights of the sixteenth and seventeenth of each month, the 'Nine Netherworld Ritual' is held in the hall, with the left and right guardians taking turns presiding over it. When the presiding person is not in the hall, the person who stays behind is responsible for guarding the secret chamber. This has been an unchanging tradition for the past twenty years."

Chen Che was silent for a moment, then downed the glass of red wine in one gulp: "Has Third Brother returned?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a soft footstep sounded from the corner of the stairs. Chen San's figure emerged from the shadows, his mink coat stained with unmelted snow, and his face paler than usual.

"Found it." Chen San walked closer and lowered his voice. "Deep in Yong'an Lane, in an old warehouse. But I didn't dare get too close."

Why?

Chen San took a deep breath, a rare look of seriousness flashing in his eyes: "That place...something's not right. I could smell something from two streets away. It wasn't the smell of blood, nor the stench of decay, but—"

He paused for a moment, seemingly considering his words.

"It was like something was breathing. The whole house, like a lurking beast, was breathing slowly and heavily. I stood on the street corner and listened for half an hour. The feeling grew stronger and stronger, and eventually even my heartbeat started to follow the rhythm."

Chen Che frowned. It was no ordinary thing that could make Chen San show such an expression.

"What did Master Sun say?" Chen San asked.

"Master is going with us." Chen Che walked to the coat rack and took off his coat. "But the arena is just around the corner, and he can't afford any mishaps. Besides—"

He paused, his hand stopping as he buttoned his shirt.

"Besides, this was originally a matter between me and the Six and a Half Hall. I messed up the Green Gang's plans, and Zhang Xiaolin is here today to issue a challenge, not to negotiate. Since it's a challenge, then I should accept it."

Chen San hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

Uncle Qian opened his mouth as well, but in the end he just sighed: "Young master, if this old servant may say something—the reason why Six and a Half Hall has been able to stand firm in Shanghai for twenty years is not because of Zhang Xiaolin's face. If you encounter something unavoidable during tonight's court visit, please take care of yourself."

Chen Che fastened the last button, turned around, and a faint smile appeared on his face. There was no youthful arrogance in that smile, nor the pride often seen in martial artists; there was only an indescribable certainty.

"Uncle Qian, how many years have you been with my Chen family?"

"Thirty-seven years."

"In those thirty-seven years, have you ever seen me do anything I wasn't sure of?"

Uncle Qian fell silent.

Chen Che patted him on the shoulder, turned and walked towards the stairs. Chen San followed closely behind.

As Chen Che reached the top of the stairs, he suddenly stopped and said without turning his head:

"By the way, Uncle Qian, could you please warm a pot of wine for my master and tell him that if I'm not back before dawn, he shouldn't come looking for me and should just guard the arena?"

"Young Master—"

"The wine should be warmed up a bit." Chen Che's voice disappeared around the corner of the stairs. "Winter in Shanghai is too cold."

-

The heavy snow continued to fall without any sign of stopping.

Two figures flashed out from the back door of the Peace Hotel and disappeared into the swirling snow in the blink of an eye.

Chen Che walked ahead, his pace neither hurried nor slow, yet each step landed on the thinnest part of the snow, making almost no sound. Chen San followed three steps behind, his breathing long and even, clearly having suppressed the unease he had felt earlier.

Yong'an Lane in Pudong, located in the southeast corner of Shanghai, was a notorious no-man's-land. The police from the foreign concessions were unwilling to come, and the police in the Chinese-controlled areas couldn't manage it, so over time it became a haven for all sorts of underworld figures.

The two walked through a narrow alley, when Chen San suddenly reached out and stopped Chen Che.

"We're here." He pointed ahead. "Go down that side street, and it's the second building."

Chen Che squinted and looked in the light of the snow.

It was a drab, three-story building, unremarkable in appearance, indistinguishable from the surrounding old warehouses. But upon closer inspection, Chen Che immediately noticed something amiss—

Not a single light was on in any of the building's windows.

It wasn't the kind of darkness where the lights are off in the dead of night, but a deliberate, artificial, almost greedy darkness that devoured light. It was as if the building itself was a giant black hole, sucking in all the light around it.

Even more strangely, Chen Che heard the kind of "breathing" that Chen San had mentioned.

Slow and heavy, like a huge beast curled up in the darkness, each breath carrying an indescribable chill. That chill wasn't physical cold, but a shiver rising from the depths of his bones, as if his body was warning him—don't come closer.

Chen Che stood still, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

A warm surge of true energy slowly rose from his dantian, flowing along his meridians throughout his body and dispelling some of the chill. He opened his eyes, his gaze clearer than before.

"Interesting," he muttered to himself, then turned and walked forward.

Chen San gritted his teeth and followed.

The two walked to the main entrance of the building. The door was a heavy iron door, rusted and without any markings. Chen Che reached out and gently pushed, but the iron door didn't budge.

"It's locked," Chen San said.

Chen Che shook his head, placed his palm on the iron gate, closed his eyes, and felt it for a moment.

"It's not locked." He opened his eyes, his voice lower. "It's being blocked from the inside by something. Not a regular door jamb, it's—"

He suddenly stopped talking and abruptly pulled Chen San backward.

Almost simultaneously, the iron gate suddenly sprang open, and a gust of foul wind rushed in from inside, accompanied by a metallic buzzing sound.

In the darkness, a pair of scarlet eyes lit up.