Chapter 383: Qionglong Stone Shadows: Style Lei (Part One)

Glass Sun probably would never figure out how that steel pipe flew from forty meters away and hit him square on the head.

I thought I'd see Poker-face slash his way through, mowing down everyone in his path and appearing like a ghost in front of that old man, but he didn't. He chose the quickest and most efficient method.

It was far away, so I couldn't tell how badly he was hurt, but with that kind of pipe and that kind of force, it couldn't be good. Luckily it hit him on the forehead; if it had been the back of his head, it might have exploded.

At first those people didn't realize what happened. It wasn't until the people around Glass Sun started screaming that everyone slowly stopped. Seeing their boss collapsed on the ground, they had no idea what to do. The guy behind him propped Glass Sun up and shouted, and then they all retreated, got into their cars, and drove off.

Within a minute, everyone had scattered, leaving only the onlookers and us. Fatty's head was covered in blood. The car beside us was smashed in, dented front and back, with hollows all over from the steel pipes. There were even several shoes on the ground.

I watched the van and the Crown car vanish into the dust, feeling like I was in a dream. Only then did the sharp pain in my back start to kick in, almost making me collapse.

Fatty unbuttoned his shirt to press it against his forehead, patted me, and told me to lean against the car. "We can't stay here either, missy. Ask your chauffeur if the car can still move. If not, we'll have to hail a cab. There are definitely some Glass Zhangs and Glass Zhaos among these spectators."

"It can still drive, but we'll definitely get pulled over by the traffic cops at the intersection," the driver said. He was also hurt, with a bad cut on the corner of his eye.

"Taxi, bus, whatever. Your Uncle Fat doesn't want to deal with the cops." Fatty seemed especially dependable at times like this.

Huo Xiuxiu was still on the phone. She hung up and said to the driver, "Xiao Li, you handle the car here." Then to us, "Follow me."

Fatty tucked the steel pipe into his suit jacket and pulled the jade seal from under the car seat—I had no idea when he'd hidden it. We followed Xiuxiu as she pushed through the crowd. People parted, and we ran into a side road, took a small alley through a block, and arrived on another street.

A few people were following us, not even bothering to hide. I felt like a dying zebra in a nature documentary with vultures circling nearby. Fortunately, on the other street, another Hongqi car was parked at the curb. This time there were two Jeeps in front and behind, painted in colors that screamed safety.

We hurried into the car, and Fatty said, "Missy, why didn't you call for an escort earlier?"

"I didn't think they'd be so impatient, not even bothering to check the situation," the young girl said, starting to tremble a little now that she was in the front seat. But I could tell she was holding it together. She pulled out a bunch of napkins and handed them to Fatty. "I can't always have a squad of bodyguards with me and my grandmother."

"Does Glass Sun know your grandmother?" Fatty asked.

The girl nodded. Fatty winced as I cleaned his wound. "That old bastard dares to risk going against the Old Nine Gates. Looks like he really needs this thing."

"Maybe he just wants to snatch it back and return it to the boss of the restaurant."

"Glass Sun is rich—so rich he doesn't even know the value of money. If he wants something, he'd try to buy it. Robbery isn't his strong suit. If he's resorting to stealing, he must be desperate—afraid that once you take it away, no amount of money will get it back." Huo Xiuxiu looked at the jade seal stuffed inside Fatty's clothes. "What the hell is this thing that even someone like him wants it so badly?"

Twenty minutes later, we entered a mysterious compound. It was full of Hongqi cars, and at the deepest part there were even a few siheyuan courtyards. We got out and first went to a small clinic in the community for simple bandaging.

I had a huge bruise on my back, worst where the pipe had hit. Fatty had a cut on his head, but it looked worse than it was—just a scratch from the pipe's threads. After disinfecting, they put a bandage on it.

After that, Huo Xiuxiu led us on a walk through the compound. It was huge. We walked for a while and entered an alley. Going deeper, it felt like a winding path leading to a secluded spot, with ancient trees growing out of the siheyuan on both sides, as if we had entered a temple. I never thought there could be such amazing scenery hidden in a Beijing residential area—truly a case of the great hermit hiding in the city.

We walked to the end of the alley, entered through a very inconspicuous small gate, and found ourselves in a big courtyard. We immediately saw the old lady sitting there drinking tea. She had obviously come back before us and had been waiting for a while. There was a persimmon tree in the yard, a well beneath it, and some obviously valuable plants on one side. It felt like the home of a well-to-do family from the old days. We three swaggered in, and the old lady asked Xiuxiu if she was hurt. Xiuxiu recounted what had happened. Then the old lady turned to us and said, "Good thing my Xiuxiu wasn't hurt, or I would have skinned you alive." She gestured for us to sit.

I laughed dryly. "This time, you won't light a lantern for me again, right?" The old lady shot me an exasperated look. "I, Old Mrs. Huo, don't play the same trick twice. I say what I mean. Anyway, I don't need to deal with you myself. I called you here because I lost the bet and I keep my word, so I don't lose face. While your heads are still on your necks, let's settle our business."

Fatty and I exchanged a glance. *Damn, this old lady probably thinks we've stirred up a huge mess and wants to cut ties with us quickly. * Oh well, we all get what we need. I don't want to have much to do with such a cranky old lady anyway—better to wrap this up quickly. So I cut to the chase: "So, are you willing to tell us?"

"Don't you want to know why I offered such a high price for that style-lei drawing of yours?" The old lady stood up, motioning for me to follow her. "If it were anyone else, I wouldn't say a word. But since you're also a descendant of the Old Nine Gates, you're not an outsider. However, the other two should stay outside the door."

This wasn't the first time something like this happened. I gave Fatty and Poker-face a look, they nodded, and I followed the old lady into a side room. As soon as I entered, I saw it was a storage room, full of antiques. There were no furnishings, just row after row of shelves. Even though it was an old house, the moment I stepped in, I felt a prickling on my face—static electricity in the air, indicating controlled temperature and humidity.

All the collectibles were wrapped in newspaper. The old lady led me to the very back of several shelves, and I saw a steel wire stretched across the wall for hanging scrolls, but now it was covered with style-lei drawings.

I counted seven in total, with a gap between two of them where one was missing. That must be mine.

"This is called 'Lei's Eight Layers,'" the old lady said. "Since you know something about style-lei, you should understand what this is."

I nodded, a bit surprised. With just a glance, I knew these were high-quality style-lei. The seven drawings were actually the design of a building—a multi-story structure.

Each of the seven sheets showed the structure of one floor, very clearly. And this wasn't an ordinary building. Its base was the largest, and each floor above got smaller, making it look like a pagoda at first glance. But because each floor had the structure of a building, it was much larger than a pagoda, more like the Maya Pyramid of the Sun. Generally, aside from pagodas, few ancient buildings were built so tall. Still, it was clear that the uppermost part was actually a pagoda structure; only the bottom three floors could be called a building.

"This is a drawing from the twenty-fifth year of Daoguang's reign. The designer was probably Lei Siqi," the old lady said. "I have seven here, the underground levels one through seven of the building. The lowest level should be in your possession."

"Is there something special about this building?" I asked. At first glance, they looked like ordinary style-lei, though I could generally tell these buildings all had backlight designs, just like the one I had.

"It might not mean much to others, but it has special significance to me." The old lady fiddled with the drawings. "This building is called Zhang Family Tower. In the 1970s, drawings of this tower began to appear overseas one after another and were bought back to China. You know that style-lei were royal architects; they wouldn't design for commoners. But look at these drawings—they're completely in the style of a civilian residence. Clearly, there's some story between this Zhang Family Tower, the Daoguang Emperor, and the style-lei. At that time, I had a daughter working in the Cultural Bureau. They had a project related to this tower. At the end of 1978, they found the tower in Guangxi. I remember it was January 15th. My daughter set off for Guangxi to participate in the archaeological excavation. It was her first time traveling far away. She was gone for several months."

The old lady turned to look at me, a trace of desolation in her expression. "I had always hoped this opportunity would help her build her skills. So when she came back, I was happy and ready to talk with her. But unexpectedly, after she returned, her personality suddenly changed."

The name "Zhang Family Tower" sent a jolt through me. I immediately thought of the ancient tower at the bottom of the demonic lake. I wanted to say something but didn't know what. But when I heard her last sentence, my mind went blank again.

"Changed?" I asked, puzzled.

"Yes. After she went to Guangxi, her personality became very strange. Before, she was very outgoing. But after coming back, she turned gloomy. She mostly stayed in her room, doing I don't know what. I peeked in on her a few times and found her alone, constantly drawing something."

Usually, that kind of behavior means she was heartbroken over a relationship. *She must have been drawing her boyfriend's face, * I thought.

Old Mrs. Huo continued, "At first I thought she had fallen in love. But later, I found out that wasn't it. Because once when she was away on a business trip, I went into her room and saw those drawings. I realized something was off." She paused. "They were all pen sketches, and every single one drew a building—a very strange building."