I consulted a feng shui master in Hong Kong.

It was hot in the afternoon. The concrete outside the Yau Ma Tei Police Station was bleached white by the sun. The old banyan tree in the corner couldn't quench the heat, and even the wind felt dry.

When Chen Qinghe walked in, Gu Chengyue was leaning against the table flipping through files. When he saw Chen Qinghe, he put out his cigarette and pointed at the table.

"Here's what you want," Gu Chengyue said.

Although Chen Qinghe said he wanted to take the thing with him yesterday, Gu Chengyue still went through a few procedures and sent someone to pick up Chen Qinghe the next day.

Only then did he hand the items over to Chen Qinghe.

Chen Qinghe looked down and his gaze immediately sharpened.

The paper bag wasn't big, and it had a police station seal on the outside, with an old cloth wrapped inside.

The cloth was washed until it was white, and the edges were frayed. The knot used to tie it was not an ordinary knot, but a reverse knot method commonly used by the older generation of the Sanxuan Temple.

He reached out and took the cloth bag, lightly rubbing his fingertip against the knot without saying a word.

It was against the rules for him to pull this thing out.

But now that Gu Chengyue is in charge, there aren't really any rules anymore.

Judging from his expression, Gu Chengyue knew that giving this to Chen Qinghe was probably the right thing to do.

Chen Qinghe untied the knot in the cloth.

The old cloth was lifted layer by layer, revealing a thin booklet with an old blue-gray cover, the corners rolled up, and a faint ash stain on the lower right corner of the cover.

The four characters on the cover are somewhat blurred, but still legible.

The Three Mysteries Old Records.

The room fell silent for a moment.

Gu Chengyue, who had been leaning against the table, straightened up a bit when he saw the change in Chen's expression: "Master Chen, is it really something from your Sanxuan Temple?"

"Yes." Chen Qinghe's voice was not loud. "These are relics from our sect."

Gu Chengyue nodded, casually lit a cigarette but didn't smoke it, just held it between his fingers and let it burn slowly: "I also flipped through some of them, there were quite a few diagrams, they looked like location maps of houses and shops. There were also some annotations, the handwriting didn't seem to be from the same person."

Chen Qinghe hummed in agreement.

"The first half is an old story, and the second half was mostly added by my uncle."

"Uncle-Master? I wonder if I'll have the chance to meet Master Chen's uncle-master?" Gu Chengyue's eyes lit up.

Chen Qinghe is so young, yet he is already so amazing.

If we could meet Chen Qinghe's martial uncle, wouldn't we be set for life?

Chen Qinghe shook his head: "Unfortunately, my martial uncle passed away three months ago."

"Ah..." Gu Chengyue said with some regret.

Chen Qinghe carefully wrapped the old scorebook again, his gaze softening. "Gu sir, have you found anything extra in the Yongchang Construction case?"

Gu Chengyue flicked his cigarette ash, turned around, pulled a note from under the file, and handed it to him: "That's all. A foreman surnamed Liang, named Liang Shikun, worked at Yongchang Construction a few years ago, but then suddenly disappeared. There's also a restaurant, Jinfulou, which you should be familiar with. Anything more, and the thread breaks."

Chen Qinghe glanced at it; the note only had two lines of address, written in a messy hand, but it was enough.

Gu Chengyue stared at him: "Don't just walk into this mess without a word. Those people are not like the street charlatans. They can reach into Yongchang and Jinfulou, and they dare to use old buildings, human lives, and feng shui to make money. There are definitely more than just one or two people behind them."

Chen Qinghe folded the paper and tucked it into his sleeve.

"I know."

Seeing his expression, Gu Chengyue became even more worried and said helplessly, "I don't think it's a good thing that you're saying you know like this."

Chen Qinghe then looked up at him and said calmly, "If you really know, at least this is a route we can't force our way through."

Gu Chengyue was taken aback, somewhat surprised.

Chen Qinghe continued, "If they can set up a scheme, I need to establish my own first. If you don't have a firm footing, no matter how far you can go, you won't go."

Gu Chengyue didn't understand everything, but he got the gist of it. After a moment of silence, he said, "Alright. It's good that you understand. Take that old score back and look at it slowly. Let me know if you find anything."

Chen Qinghe nodded, picked up his cloth bag, and walked out of the police station.

It was already evening outside, the sky was a layer of gray-red, the heat on the street had dissipated a bit, the tram slowly swayed past the intersection, and white smoke was already rising from the fish ball stall in the distance.

Yau Ma Tei is always more lively at night than during the day, with the sounds of vendors hawking their wares, mahjong tiles clattering, and footsteps all mingling together like a pot of boiling water.

Chen Qinghe carried the old scorebook and walked back along the familiar path.

As I passed through the alley, the old plaque of the Sanxuan Temple came into view.

Huang Shouzhou was squatting by the door gnawing on a roast goose leg. When he saw him return, he first hid the bone behind his back and mumbled, "Did you finish talking to Inspector Gu? Why are you so late..."

Before he could finish speaking, he saw the old cloth bag in Chen Qinghe's hand and his eyes widened.

"What is this?"

"Old genealogy of the Three Mysteries Temple".

Huang Shouzhou jumped up, almost dropping his roast goose leg: "You found it?"

Chen Qinghe grunted in response, went straight into the house, and placed the cloth bundle on the old table next to the incense table.

Huang Shouzhou followed behind, not even bothering to wipe his hands, craning his neck to get closer.

"Was it really left behind by my martial uncle?"

"Don't touch it yet."

Chen Qinghe washed his hands before opening the old score.

As the pages were turned, a faint scent of old ink and mildew wafted out.

The first dozen or so pages are still the old genealogy of the Sanxuan Temple, which records the correct path for the direction of the gate, the water outlet, the shelter from the wind, and the collection of qi.

The meaning of the characters is stable, and the layout is also dignified and upright.

But from the middle onwards, the handwriting changes, becoming thinner and more hurried, as if the writer is writing while chasing something, afraid that the thread will break if they are a step too late.

Huang Shouzhou glanced at it a few times, then his voice involuntarily lowered: "This is Master Li's calligraphy."

Chen Qinghe didn't respond, but just kept turning the pages.

In the latter half of the book, Li Zhengfeng no longer recorded simple feng shui arrangements, but rather the unorthodox practices he had encountered in Hong Kong over the years.

The text describes various auspicious phrases and their associated consequences, including: using a mirror to reflect negative energy, using a road to cut off wealth, using ancestral portraits to hide evil spirits, and using incense tables to attract disaster. These phrases are written in great detail and are accompanied by labels indicating "which type of house is most likely to be affected" and "what kind of people are most likely to be drawn into such a house."

Then, several more familiar names appeared.

Yongchang Construction.

Jinfulou.

There is also an incomplete mark, like fish scales or half a seal, with only a corner outlined, located in an inconspicuous position on the edge of the page.

Li Zhengfeng only wrote six characters on the side.

"Not done by one company."

Chen Qinghe paused for a moment.

Huang Shouzhou didn't understand and pointed, asking, "What does it mean?"

"It means this wasn't something some charlatan came up with on their own." Chen Qinghe pressed his fingertip over the line of text. "Yongchang was responsible for moving the beams, doors, and windows, Jinfulou was responsible for connecting people, and then someone else would come forward to assess the house, draw talismans, and determine the layout. The process was separate, but the methods were the same."

Huang Shouzhou felt a chill run down his spine: "Isn't that just an organization?"

"right."

Chen Qinghe continued flipping through the pages, but suddenly stopped when he reached the last few pages.

Half of that page had been torn off, leaving only the innermost section, on which was Li Zhengfeng's handwriting, written even more hastily than the previous pages.

"Liang claimed that he only did manual labor and knew nothing about the bureau."

"However, the cuffs have scale-like patterns, which are not something that ordinary craftsmen could produce."

"If I do not return within three days, may I...?"

The text ends here.

The back looked like it had been forcibly torn off, leaving only a rough stubble.

The room fell silent.

Huang Shouzhou stared at those lines of text, his face gradually turning pale: "Uncle-Master... are you investigating someone?"

Chen Qinghe slowly flattened the page, his voice low: "He didn't get involved by chance. He followed the Yongchang trail and ended up investigating that person."

"Then... then he didn't come back..."

Huang Shouzhuo stopped talking halfway through his sentence.

A gust of wind blew in through the crack in the door, causing the candlelight on the desk to flicker slightly.

Chen Qinghe closed the old score, but his expression was more composed than before.

He finally understood why his uncle had suddenly separated and hidden many old things from the Three Mysteries Temple before he died, and why he hadn't even left such old family records in the temple, but instead found a way to move them out.

It's not that I'm afraid of losing it.

It's because I'm afraid someone will come looking for me.

Huang Shouzhou whispered, "So what do we do now? Go find this Liang?"

"We should look for them, but not now."

Why?

Chen Qinghe looked up at the dilapidated courtyard and said indifferently, "Because the current Sanxuan Temple is still too small."

Huang Shouzhuo was taken aback.

Chen Qinghe got up and walked to the door, lightly stepping on the threshold: "The threshold is crooked, the front hall is drafty, the backyard is flooded, the walls are damp, incense offerings can't stay, and people disperse as soon as there are too many. If someone really has their eye on this place, they can step on it whenever they want. Even if they find something in a place like this, they can't protect it."

Huang Shou-chou understood this time.

"You want to practice contemplation first?"

"It's not just a matter of wanting to, it's a matter of having to fix it."

Chen Qinghe turned around and went back to the table, grabbed an old piece of paper, and started writing.

Replace the beams, repair the walls, rebuild the drainage system, raise the threshold of the front hall, build a quiet room in the back courtyard, and set up another open space to be used as a side courtyard.

Chen Qinghe calmly asked Huang Shouzhou, "If we proceed this way, how much money do you think it would likely cost to get it done?"

"At least two hundred thousand, we don't have that much in our accounts!"

"So we have to calculate it first."

Chen Qinghe pulled the account book over and flipped through it very quickly.

Part of the thank-you gift from the Huo family was given by Su Yulian and Huo Qingtang.

This time, I came to the police station purely to work; I didn't earn anything.

If you want to build a temple, you need to buy land first.

The cost of buying land is a major expense.

Location selection is also an issue...

The courtyard in Fu'anli is still too small; it's difficult to make arrangements.

Chen Qinghe suddenly felt a bit troubled.