Chapter 123: The Shoreyoban Composition

Watching Bai Weiwei get out of the car and head toward a nearby convenience store, Zhang Qinglin sat in the vehicle, recalling what Chen Shengxiao had told him that day. Their shared goal was to find his father and her brother.

However, Bai Weiwei’s words just now served as a reminder to him: wanting to obtain something and wanting to exploit something are different matters. Chen Shengxiao had previously warned that keeping the notebook and map in his possession would invite danger, yet these were precisely the items many tomb raiders coveted. Li Qingpeng had been obsessed with the map inside the ancient tomb; could they have orchestrated such a terrifying bridge collapse incident just to get their hands on these two things?

Zhang Qinglin thought about it repeatedly but could not make sense of it. If Chen Shengxiao wanted these items, she could easily obtain them by any number of means; why go through such trouble to arrange this, and even have Wanqing accompany them? It felt like an unnecessary complication. Therefore, Zhang Qinglin was certain Chen Shengxiao would not do such a thing. Unless... Zhang Qinglin felt that was impossible, but regardless, he would deal with it once he reached Beijing and found Cheng Che.

"I bought two bottles of water. Let's rest for a moment before we set off," Bai Weiwei said, her tone gentle as she handed him a bottle.

Zhang Qinglin took the water, thanked her, and asked if he should take over the driving for the next leg of the journey. Bai Weiwei shook her head, saying she wasn't tired yet and they could switch later.

"Actually, there's something I've been wanting to ask you," Zhang Qinglin said, his eyes fixed on the mineral water gripped tightly in his hands.

Bai Weiwei asked softly, "What is it?"

"That Wu Guangen, Master Wu—is he still working for your family?" Zhang Qinglin looked up as he spoke.

Wu Guangen’s appearance was certainly no coincidence; his negotiation to seize the Jade Tiger must have been on someone else's behalf. Who was the person behind him? Could it be Bai Weiwei, or perhaps her father?

Bai Weiwei’s clear, bright eyes flickered toward Zhang Qinglin as she slowly replied, "Wu Guangen? He was never our employee. He just had some influence near the mining area back then. Since we needed people to manage the workers, we let him handle that. After the mine was sealed, I never saw him again, and his men dispersed. Why are you asking about him all of a sudden?"

"It’s nothing. I just didn't think he looked like a good person, and I was worried he might come back to cause you trouble. Also, Miss Bai, thank you for all your help."

Bai Weiwei replied, "No need for formalities. Just call me Weiwei from now on!"

"'The gentle breeze clusters the waves, scattering them into stars across the river,'" Zhang Qinglin recited softly.

"Exactly, those are the characters, but with the grass radical on top," Bai Weiwei said with a faint smile.

They drove for about a day and a half before entering Hebei province. Zhang Qinglin had fallen asleep along the way and was jolted awake by a bump as they exited the highway into Beijing. Still feeling exhausted, he sat up slowly and opened the window for some air. As soon as the window opened, he saw a person sitting in a black car idling alongside theirs—and that person was none other than Wu Guangen.

Zhang Qinglin quickly rolled the window back up, his weariness vanished. Wu Guangen had actually followed them to Beijing.

It was already dark by the time they entered the city proper. The pickup truck sped along the ring road, and the black car was tailing them. Bai Weiwei seemed to have noticed, her gaze fixed on the road ahead as she calmly accelerated and signaled. It had to be said that Bai Weiwei's driving skills were on par with Wanqing’s; with a slight smile, she glanced at the rearview mirror and easily left the black car behind, weaving into the Chaoyang Villa district within the Fourth Ring Road.

After parking, Bai Weiwei sighed softly. "How tedious." She looked at Zhang Qinglin. "We're here. Get out."

"Where is this?" Zhang Qinglin asked, looking at the rows of villas.

"Follow me." Bai Weiwei got out, grabbed her bag, and stood in front of the three-story villa. "Come in, close the door, and change your shoes. You’re in the room on the second floor." She opened the door, walked in, and kicked off her shoes, walking barefoot on the floor.

Zhang Qinglin looked around, astonished; this was incomparable to the life of a poor man like him.

The house was empty, with no one inside but him and Bai Weiwei. The decor and furnishings were very modern. Zhang Qinglin asked curiously, "Do you live here alone? Where are your parents? Don't they live here?"

"My mother is abroad year-round, and my father doesn't live here. This is my mother's house; she doesn't return until next month, so don't worry. Go take a hot shower first; the bathroom is at the very end." Bai Weiwei took off her coat and fetched a set of towels from a nearby room for him.

Zhang Qinglin paused, realizing Bai Weiwei’s parents were clearly not ordinary people.

He could smell the stench on himself and frowned. Bai Weiwei headed upstairs with her bag, and Zhang Qinglin went into the bathroom for a refreshing shower. When he came out, he saw Bai Weiwei had changed her clothes and was standing upstairs, calling to him, "Zhang Qinglin, over here. I found some clothes for you."

"These clothes..." Zhang Qinglin said, looking at the men's clothing on the sofa chair on the second floor.

"Oh, those are my brother's clothes," Bai Weiwei said in a flat tone.

"Your brother?" Zhang Qinglin asked, picking up the clothes in surprise.

"Yes. Let me study the Jade Tiger for the night; consider it your room fee, and breakfast tomorrow is on you, too." Bai Weiwei picked up the Jade Tiger that Zhang Qinglin had left on the small round table and walked toward the side corridor.

Zhang Qinglin pulled on the shirt; he had guessed she would take the Jade Tiger.

"I'll return it to you tomorrow." Her voice faded near the second doorway. Suddenly, she poked her head back out and said, "Goodnight!"

Zhang Qinglin picked up the remaining clothes from the chair and glanced toward the left. A strange, inexplicable feeling made his heart pound—a sensation like surging waves. He reached out with his right hand to cover his restless heart.

Suddenly, a harsh piano note echoed in his ears, gradually forming a somber melody. The chilling, ghost-like music filled the entire house. The tune made him feel deeply uncomfortable, causing a headache and palpitations. He scanned his surroundings, shook his head, and walked toward the room on the right.

He stumbled into the room and collapsed onto the large bed, but the sound remained audible. His head grew heavier, and the pain became so intense that everything around him seemed to distort, swirling toward him like a vortex.

"Little Lin, come here. Look at what this is," a mature, deep voice called from ahead.

Zhang Qinglin forced his eyes wide open. At the end of the vortex, a man appeared who looked exactly like him. As he focused, he realized it was his father.

"Hee hee!" A playful little boy ran out from behind him, his watery, bright eyes blinking as he reached out his arms.

"Come, look at the little boat Daddy made. Do you like it?" The father picked up the boy and held up an exquisite little boat carved from wood.

The boy squinted at the little boat, reaching out a chubby hand to point at two black characters on its side. Zhang Qinglin recognized the first character; it was the "Lin" from his own name. "Lin" was composed of two trees, representing tenacity—wild fire cannot destroy it.

Since birth, he had suffered from a strange illness that no doctor could explain. The name "Zhang Qinglin" had been given to him by the old man known as Dog, who said the character "Lin" could suppress the water in his destiny. Although he lacked fire, his water element was too full; if it couldn't be suppressed, his life would be filled with disaster.

"Little Lin is so smart. Daddy is teaching you to read. Look at this, it’s read 'Lin' (lin)—the last character of your name. This one is read 'Gao' (gao). Together, it’s 'Lingao'." His father praised him first, then explained the characters one by one.

Zhang Qinglin remembered this scene; he watched it intently.

Just then, his father picked up the boy, left the table, and walked outside. A deafening, tumultuous sound approached from afar. Looking out, he saw the mountain peaks surging onto a churning sea, and in the middle of the ocean, a massive object stood tall.

It was a round, bronze-colored object with deep, recessed eye sockets, bulging eyeballs, a circular knot in the center, straight ears on both sides, and a protruding, hooked nose with fangs carved in relief—a terrifying bronze mask resembling a human face.

The little boy was instantly petrified by the sight of the giant object. He turned to look at his father, who remained calm, just as the bronze mask surged forward with the sea.

A sudden sense of suffocation brought Zhang Qinglin back to reality. He lay limp on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was all a hallucination. His father’s face had appeared in his visions once again; was it trying to tell him something?

Just then, the somber, ghostly piano music rang in his ears again. The sound was coming from above his room. Zhang Qinglin sat up abruptly, hit by another wave of dizziness. He rubbed his temples and stepped out of the room. Determined that the music wasn't coming from Bai Weiwei’s room, he began to search for the source.

A moment later, he stood at the stairs leading to the third floor. The sound was coming from up there.

There were other people in this villa? But if there were, he should have seen them when they arrived. The whole house had been dark. Zhang Qinglin scanned the third floor with heightened alertness.

When he reached a room on the east side of the third floor, the piano music grew louder. Standing before the door, he knocked gently. The piano continued, with no response from within. He turned the handle, and to his surprise, it wasn't locked.

Zhang Qinglin pushed the door open to find a gloomy room. A chill washed over him, and a faint, soft yellow light glowed from the far end. Using the light from the hallway, he scanned the room, and a sudden sense of dread washed over him. There was no one in the room—so who was playing the piano?

Zhang Qinglin walked into the room; the music was indeed coming from a piano to the right of the window.

Suddenly, the soft yellow light turned a sickly, oily green. He realized the light was coming from a desk lamp on the piano. A dark silhouette appeared in front of the piano, and the door behind Zhang Qinglin slowly clicked shut. He stopped in his tracks, staring nervously.

He had initially thought the ghostly melody was a recording, but as the silhouette appeared, the music stopped abruptly.

"Who are you?" The voice was soft yet firm.

Zhang Qinglin stared at the piano and turned around at the sound, but there was nothing behind him.

Then, the voice sounded from behind him and to the right. "Who are you? Why don't you answer?"

"Who are you, playing these ghost games?" Zhang Qinglin shouted toward the front.

"You barged into my room and are being rude to me. Did Bai Weiwei bring you here?" the voice continued.

"Yes."

"Sigh. Leave. Don't come into this room again."

"Stop being so mysterious. And hey, quit the playing—it's too noisy. Besides, that's not how you play the piano," Zhang Qinglin said, looking around.

At that moment, the piano music started up again, very loudly. "That’s none of your business! I like playing it this way. Please, get out!"