Folklore and Strange Tales: At the Start, You Retrieve the Sea-Suppressing Black Iron

Chapter 126 Abandoning Pawns and Formations, Shen Jiulou's Teacup Gleaned Dust

"A nose scar?"

After Cheng Xiaojingang finished asking the question, the faint sound of Master Ma poking incense ash with his pipe came from the other end of the phone.

Master Ma said, "It wasn't a person who entered the courtyard, but rather half a footprint left under the threshold, with the toes pointing towards the outer perimeter of the Bell and Drum Tower Ghost Market."

Tieguai Li put the ash basin aside.

"Is that bastard still alive?"

Zhou Banxian took the phone and leaned closer to listen.

"With the scar on his nose only half visible, it wouldn't be difficult for the Shen family to find him. If he dares to reveal a secret code, it's probably a matter of life and death."

Tang Wanqing looked at the back of Cheng Xiaojin's hand.

"You can't go now."

Cheng Xiaojin moved the phone to the other side of her shoulder without raising her hand.

"I didn't say I'd go now."

Tong Kexin gave a cold laugh.

"You said you weren't going, but your toes were already pointing towards the alley entrance."

Han Shaobai spoke cautiously.

"How about I go see the guy with the nose scar? I have money, and he doesn't look like a threat."

Tieguai Li glared at him.

"Go away, the Shen family didn't even bother with the ransom; they just burned you like cash."

Cheng Xiaojin asked Master Ma, "Where's the ashtray in the yard?"

Master Ma said, "The porridge is still fragrant, and the vertical hook and horizontal stroke haven't dissipated."

Cheng Xiaojin remained silent for a moment.

"That was a letter my dad actually handed out."

Master Ma didn't respond to that, only saying, "Let's go back to the hospital first."

In the old house in Deshengmen, when the sorcerer was helped into the main room by his young apprentice, the cracked copper plate was already upside down in the wooden basin.

Half of the black blood at the bottom of the plate had dried, while the other half dripped down the rim of the plate onto the ground.

Shen Jiulou sat at the table, the same teacup still in use, with a speck of ash on its rim.

Boss Lin stood under the eaves, barely daring to breathe. Two Southeast Asian sorcerers held wooden boxes, their eyes fixed on the sorcerer's hands.

The hand was torn open by the backlash from the iron wire, and the spaces between the fingers were filled with black grease.

The sorcerer knelt down, his forehead covered with blue bricks.

"Master Shen, I only want to save face for the copper plate."

Shen Jiulou used the tea lid to brush away the speck of ash from the rim of the cup.

"What did I say?"

The sorcerer lowered his back even further.

"You said not to touch the local new corpses."

"But you still touched it—"

"That old woman's resentment hasn't subsided, so she can't be considered an old corpse!"

The ruler on the right chuckled, and the copper ruler made a soft clanging sound inside the wooden box.

Boss Lin's eyelids twitched.

Shen Jiulou poured the cold tea onto the ground, and the tea flowed down to the sorcerer's knees.

"In Southeast Asia, you can use vengeful corpses to oppress people."

The sorcerer looked up.

"Master Shen, I have another way. That street is full of cooking fires. I'll find ten corpses that starved to death and send them over at night. No matter how hot the pot is, it won't be able to suppress the fire."

Shen Jiulou looked at him, the tea lid resting on the rim of the cup.

"You still don't understand."

The sorcerer's lips trembled.

"Your subordinate understands. Cheng Xiaojin can listen to the wires, the pot in the Tong family can break iron, and Ma Wenchang can guard the courtyard. But as long as I give you three Shen Jiulou put down the teacup, the porcelain bottom hits the table, and the scratching sound of the wooden box in the room stops for a moment."

"The evil magic of Southeast Asia cannot suppress the moral issues at the bottom of Beijing."

Mr. Lin kept his head down, his palms sweaty.

Before the sorcerer could speak, the ruler on the left stepped forward and took out a copper ruler.

Upon seeing the copper ruler, the sorcerer's expression changed.

"Master Shen, I have served you for seventeen years."

Shen Jiulou didn't look at him.

"Seventeen years, and you still haven't learned to be obedient?"

The copper ruler landed on the sorcerer's head.

There was no scream. The sorcerer's body went limp, and he collapsed onto the blue bricks, with tiny bumps bulging under his clothes.

The young apprentice was so frightened that he knelt down with his head on the ground.

"Mr. Shen, spare my life! Mr. Shen, spare my life!"

Shen Jiulou took a handkerchief and wiped the tea lid.

"Send him back to the ditch."

Master Chi asked, "Feed the boxes?"

A short, sharp sound came from the wooden box in the corner of the yard, like the sound of fingernails hitting the lid.

Shen Jiulou said, "Feed half, and leave the other half for Boss Lin to see."

Mr. Lin's legs swayed, but he managed to stand still.

Shen Jiulou looked up at him.

Are you scared?

Mr. Lin quickly bent down.

"Mr. Shen, I'm just thinking about the next step."

Shen Jiulou took out a black wooden plaque and pushed it to the side of the table.

Liulichang.

Boss Lin looked up.

"The seventh gate?"

"Let's not touch that street near Huguosi Temple for now. Cheng Xiaojin's soft heart has been used once, and it's worthless the second time."

Shen Jiulou handed him the black wooden plaque.

"Go find the hidden informant at the Seventh Gate."

Mr. Lin accepted the cards with both hands.

"Liu Bai?"

Shen Jiulou looked at him.

"Liu Bai is half inside the gate and half in the human world; half of what she says is useful, and the other half can kill."

Boss Lin was sweating.

"Who is that informant?"

Shen Jiulou said, "Someone who can take action while eating food meant for the living."

There were two more scratches inside the wooden box.

Shen Jiulou turned his head and glanced at the box.

"Also, release that shadow line from the Ghost Market, and the nose scar should be removed."

Mr. Lin's heart tightened.

"Still showing your face with that nose scar?"

Shen Jiulou poured tea again.

"His appearance shows that he wants to sell Cheng Shouyi's words from back then to Cheng Xiaojin."

The ruler put the copper ruler back into the wooden box.

"Do you want them alive?"

Shen Jiulou picked up the teacup, the ash on the rim of the cup already washed away by the tea.

"Need not."

When Cheng Xiaojin and his group rushed back to the gate of Master Ma's courtyard, Master Ma had already used a bamboo stick to collect the incense ash under the threshold.

Half a footprint was crooked in the dust, and a piece of the sole was missing; it was the old cloth shoe of the one with the nose scar.

Toes pointing northwest.

Zhou Banxian squatted down and took a look.

"An old teahouse on the outskirts of the Bell and Drum Tower Ghost Market."

Tieguai Li frowned.

"Aren't you afraid of being ambushed if you go to an old teahouse at this time?"

Grandpa Ma placed his pipe against the threshold.

"I'll have to go, even if I'm afraid."

Tang Wanqing continued the conversation.

"Cheng Xiaojin is not allowed to go alone."

Cheng Xiaojin said, "The person with the nose scar wants to see is me."

Tong Kexin tightened the cloth strip around the back of her hand again.

"Then we absolutely cannot let you go alone."

Cheng Xiaojin looked up at her.

"The pot at Huguosi Temple must never be left unattended."

Tong Kexin remained silent.

Aunt Liu had just taken the little boy away; the gray circle still needed to be patched, and the black water at the wellhead hadn't completely receded yet.

Tang Wanqing said, "I'll go with you."

Cheng Xiaojin shook his head.

"If you follow me, Shen Men will know just how badly my hands are ruined."

Tieguai Li patted the pliers behind his waist.

"I agree."

"Your leg sounds are too familiar; the guy with the nose scar will run away if he hears them."

Han Shaobai raised his hand.

"Then what about me?"

Three people were looking at him at the same time.

Han Shaobai put his hand down.

I stayed home to cook porridge.

Master Ma looked at Cheng Xiaojin.

"You can go alone, but there are three rules."

Cheng Xiaojin stopped her toes just outside the incense ash.

"Please speak."

"Don't drink tea, don't close the door, and don't reach out your hand."

Cheng Xiaojin smiled.

"If my dad really did smash that piece in the ashtray, I'd be more afraid to die tonight than anyone else."

Tang Wanqing stuffed a roll of scrap iron wire soaked in broth into his coat pocket and pressed it down through the cloth.

"Don't touch it with your hands. If you really need to use it, throw it away."

Tong Kexin poured some of the old soup from the aluminum kettle and smeared it on the soles of his shoes.

"Step over the threshold before going in."

Cheng Xiaojin looked down at his shoes.

"Boss Tong, does this count as blessing me?"

Tong Kexin looked up.

"Consider it a leash for you; if you run too far, the smell of the pot will pull you back."

Tieguai Li handed him a small folding knife, the handle of which was wrapped in rags.

"Don't be so tough. If you can't beat them, just yell. I'll be waiting two blocks away."

Cheng Xiaojin did not take the knife.

"You look better wielding a rolling pin than a knife."

Aunt Zhang handed over a short rolling pin from the side.

"Then take this."

Cheng Xiaojin looked at her.

"Aunt Zhang, are you really willing to do this?"

Aunt Zhang stuffed the rolling pin into his arms and wrapped it in cloth.

"Come back and give it to me. I'll make noodles again tomorrow."

Cheng Xiaojin carried the rolling pin out of the alley.

The night breeze blew from the direction of the Bell and Drum Tower, carrying the smell of old tea leaves and damp earth.

When he reached the intersection of the old teahouse street, the sound of Tieguai Li's prosthetic leg stopped two streets behind him.

Tang Wanqing didn't follow, but instead hung a copper coin at a more distant alley entrance.

Cheng Xiaojin did not turn around.

The old teahouse was lit by only a dim yellow light, and the door was half-closed.

A cough from the nasal scar came through the crack in the door.

"Cheng Xiaojin".

Cheng Xiaojin rubbed the soles of his shoes on the threshold, leaving an oily stain that smelled of old soup.

"You'd better have something really valuable to say."

Inside the room, the man with the nasal scar sat at the darkest table, half of his face rotten and black, casting a shorter shadow.

He pushed a teacup to the opposite side.

Cheng Xiaojin did not sit down.

The nasal scar aggravated his wound from laughing.

"Ma Wenchang taught well; he doesn't even drink tea."

Cheng Xiaojin placed the short rolling pin across his knees and sat down on the bench closest to the door.

How many breaths do you have left?

'

The man with the nasal scar bowed his head and coughed up black blood.

"Three people."

Master Ma stared at the white porcelain cup, tapping his pipe lightly against the edge of the table without making a sound.

Han Shaobai huddled at the doorway of the main room, holding half a bag of cornmeal in his arms, his face still covered in soot from the stove.

"Mr. Ma, why is this dust still floating around?"

Zhou Banxian placed the compass face down on the table, and the needle circled the copper base for a short while before tilting towards the ashtray.

"The fact that the dust hasn't settled means there's still hope in the courtyard."

Tieguai Li was squatting outside the threshold, using a small file to repair the chipped edge of the pliers, when he heard this and looked up.

"Whose anger are you hanging on to? Didn't Shen Jiulou throw away the sorcerer?"

Cheng Xiaojin stood under the corridor, her hands wrapped in bandages, her sleeves tied to the pillars by Tang Wanqing with a red thread.

"Throwing away people doesn't mean throwing away the game."

Tang Wanqing was changing the medicine on the back of his hand. The powder touched the scalp, and Cheng Xiaojin's eye twitched; his usual witty banter faltered.

Tong Kexin placed a small aluminum kettle on the side of the table leg, the spout still steaming with hot braising liquid.

"The matter concerning Old Lady Wang has been suppressed, and the neighbors have been asked to keep an eye on Wang Ergui and his wife."

, 7

Han Shaobai swallowed.

"What about the old lady?"

Tieguai Li slammed the file onto the toolbox.

"Why are you asking that? You don't want to treat her to a late-night snack, do you?"

Tong Kexin glanced at Han Shaobai.

"Master Chen hasn't arrived yet, so we've covered her with a white cloth for now. We've also placed three bowls of hot porridge at the door so she won't leave hungry."

Cheng Xiaojin looked down at the ashtray in the main room.

The half vertical hook at the bottom of the jar was completed into a full hook, and a horizontal line was added, the edges of which were so thin they were almost invisible.

Master Ma had a sullen face.

"Little Jin, when your father taught you this code, did he say anything else?"

The wind blowing through the incense ash under the eaves carried the lingering aroma of the old soup from Huguo Temple.

Cheng Xiaojin thought for a moment before speaking.

"When I was a kid, I was naughty and poked at the lock of our old cabinet with a wire. My dad grabbed my hand and said that if you see a vertical hook, you can hear it but you can't open it."

Han Shaobai took a step closer.

"What if we add a horizontal line?"

Cheng Xiaojin looked at him.

Add a horizontal line, and you'll see people's hearts at the door; but the heart of a broken heart is right in front.

Zhou Banxian frowned.

"A nail in the heart?"

Cheng Xiaojin nodded, then shook his head.

"It could be a nail, or it could be a thought hanging on a nail."

Tieguai Li grew increasingly irritated. "Can't you speak like a human being?"

Cheng Xiaojin raised his hand, which was wrapped in bandages.

"If that thing in the ashtray really is a human nail from the Seventh Gate, Shen Jiulou would definitely want me to open it."

He tilted his head and listened to the sounds coming from the bottom of the ashtray.

"But what my dad meant was that we had to cut off the heart of that person outside before we could open the door."

"7

Han Shaobai's face fell. "What? There really is a heart outside?"

Tong Kexin tightened the aluminum kettle lid.

"Don't think about things that are bloody."

Cheng Xiaojin smiled, but stopped halfway through.

"Old Lady Wang's resentment is a reflection of human nature."

The main room fell silent for a moment.

Tang Wanqing wrapped the bandage in her hand around his wrist.

"The sorcerer used Old Lady Wang to create a six-armed vengeful corpse. Before the vengeful spirit could land, he forcibly connected it to the iron wire from the South Seas. This kind of setup is not clean."

Master Ma took over the conversation.

"Shen Jiulou told him not to touch the newly discovered local corpses, but he did anyway."

Zhou Banxian turned the compass over and scraped off the black ash stuck to the edge of the compass with his fingernail.

"Only then did Shen Jiulou abandon him, and also that small hidden ditch array."

Tieguai Li sneered.

"Just abandon him and that's it? He wreaked havoc in Beijing, and now he just says he's abandoned us, and we're supposed to clean up his mess?"

Tong Kexin leaned the long spoon against the door.

"Old Mrs. Wang starved to death in her own side room. Her own son locked the door, and her own daughter-in-law fed her swill. The people of Southeast Asia don't understand this, but we do."

Upon hearing this, Han Shaobai tightened his grip on the cornbread sack, his face still showing signs of weakness despite the soot from the stove.

Cheng Xiaojin looked at her.

"Are your neighbors still holding on?"

"The fire in the pot hadn't gone out, so the ash rings were patched up twice. Old Li cursed for half the night, and his voice was hoarseer than the pot lid."

Tieguai Li chuckled.

"Old Li is tough; even with three cuts on his leg, he still thinks about the tofu pudding stall."

Tong Kexin didn't laugh.

He asked Old Lady Wang if she wanted tofu pudding for her burial, saying that since she was going to die hungry, she shouldn't go on her way on an empty stomach.

Han Shaobai lowered his head and rubbed the crack between the bricks with the tip of his shoe.

"Then I'll pay."

Tieguai Li turned to look at him.

"That's a good sentence."

The ashtray made a soft popping sound.

The steam from the porridge on the table dissipated, and the horizontal section at the bottom of the jar shrank by half an inch towards the southwest corner.

Tang Wanqing immediately tightened her grip on the red thread.

"Don't listen too deeply."

Cheng Xiaojin didn't move forward, but just turned her ear away.

"It wasn't the sound of Shen Jiulou's bronze plate."

Master Ma asked.

"The people inside?"

Cheng Xiaojin frowned.

"He's making the second stroke."

The white ash slowly moved to the bottom of the jar, and next to the vertical hook, a small dot was rubbed out under the horizontal line.

Han Shaobai felt a tightness in his scalp as he looked at it.

"Is this a character?"

Cheng Xiaojin stared at the small dot for a long time before speaking.

"It matches the third code my dad taught me, but I didn't finish typing it."

Tang Wanqing glanced at him.

"Don't use phrases like 'match'."

Cheng Xiaojin choked for a moment, letting out a dry cough.

"Okay, that's about right."

Zhou Banxian approached the table but didn't touch the ashtray.

"What's the third code?"

Cheng Xiaojin's lips moved slightly.

"Guard the living, not the objects."

Master Ma tightened his grip on the pipe, then quickly loosened it again.

"That's what Cheng Shouyi said back then."

Tieguai Li stood up.

"That's right. The ashtray isn't for us to open; it's for us to settle accounts with someone like Old Lady Wang first."

Han Shaobai looked up.

"But Old Lady Wang is already dead."

Tong Kexin chimed in.

"There are still survivors."

She looked towards the courtyard gate.

"That child."

Cheng Xiaojin nodded.

"The fact that Wang Ergui's child heard his grandmother say he was hungry shows that he hasn't been completely consumed by the rotten heart of that family."

Zhou Banxian put the compass into his pocket.

"The Heart-Shaped Nail eats the food of living people, but it is also afraid of the twisted hearts of living people. If Shen Jiulou were to entangle the nail with such disgusting things, the ashtray would turn on Xiao Jin."

Tang Wanqing said coldly.

"In the next few days, all the resentment borrowed by the Shen family must be eradicated."

Tieguai Li picked up his toolbox.

"I can cut off the root, but should I just weld the door shut on Wang Ergui and his wife?"

Tong Kexin looked at him.

"Don't make things worse."

Han Shaobai quickly raised his hand.

"I'll find someone to take care of the child, someone reliable, not a relative of the Wang family."

Master Ma nodded.

"There's an old accounting office near Boguzhai. The old couple there have no children. They used to receive relief food from Huguo Temple in their younger days, so you can stay there for the night."

Cheng Xiaojin looks at Han Shaobai.

"Shaobai, you handle this."

Han Shaobai tucked the cornbread bag under his arm.

"I'll go right away."

He had just stepped out of the door when the incense ash line outside the courtyard suddenly dipped inward.

The copper coin wind chimes hanging under the eaves didn't ring, but the faint sound of a wooden ruler scratching bricks came from the base of the wall.

Tang Wanqing raised her hand, and three copper coins fell in front of the threshold.

"Someone measured the hospital."

Tieguai Li picked up the pliers and used his prosthetic leg to brace against the brick.

"One of Shen Jiulou's people?"

Cheng Xiaojin listened intently and heard the sound of a wooden box being opened at the entrance of the alley.

The sound traveled close to the ground, measuring the incense ash line inch by inch, and then circled around to the west corner of the courtyard wall.

The smile on his face disappeared.

"The Master Scale Maker of the South Seas"

Master Ma pushed the teacup to the center of the table.

"Measure what?"

Cheng Xiaojin looked at his feet.

"I'm still a few steps away from the ashtray."

""

Outside the courtyard, the sound of a wooden ruler stopped right in front of the threshold.

A strange man spoke from the shadows of the alley.

"The eighth generation of the Cheng family, I'll lend you a hand."