Chapter One: The Hundred-Year-Old Mansion

  I just reported to the new unit and asked Zhou for a three-day leave, went back to my old house to clean up. I don't know if it's because the old man called ahead of time, but Zhou agreed without saying much.

  To be honest, I have a lot of resentment towards the old man's arrangement this time. The old man has a listed company in Shenzhen with assets worth hundreds of millions, and although I graduated from a police academy and didn't study finance or anything like that, he can't just send me back to my hometown, can he? Besides, I'm his only son, my mother died young, and the old man brought me up by himself while working hard outside. I've slept in shacks and squatted under bridges with him, but now that things are better, he doesn't care about me anymore.

  The old man did not keep me by his side to work, and through various channels, he arranged for me to go to the county public security bureau's criminal police team in my hometown. And again and again, he exhorted me that I couldn't live in the unit, but must return to the old house to live. He said that the ancestral business cannot be lost, and that he has today is all thanks to the protection of his ancestors, and the result of the prosperity of the ancestral home.

  The old man talked endlessly, making my ears numb. Looking at the young stepmother who was only a few years older than me leaning on the old man's shoulder and giving me a flirtatious smile, I felt goosebumps all over: damn... The old man only cared about being romantic with you and didn't care about my life or death.

  But the old man's words are authoritative, and this family still listens to him. I drove back to my hometown - Fenghuang, Hunan, in that half-new and half-old BMW given by the old man.

  Everyone who has read Shen Congwen's "Border Town" knows that Fenghuang is a beautiful ancient city, where there is the Tuojiang River, the tragic love story of Xiao Cui, the White Tower, the old yellow dog, and the old boatman... In Shen Congwen's writing, Fenghuang is very elegant, very quiet, like a landscape painting. But in my eyes, how can this be compared to the neon lights, the ever-changing coastal city?

  Even now, as I drive out of the criminal police team, I still have a grudge against the old man.

  My family's old house is in a town not far from the county seat, and this town is called Shanjing Town. I have grown up to be so big, more than 20 years, but it is my first time back home.

  I drove the car to a small hill in front of the easternmost part of the town and got out of the carriage. This is it, this is my old house, also the ancestral property of my family.

  I don't know why Grandpa chose to build such an old-fashioned and luxurious courtyard in such a remote place back then, but being able to build such a large separate courtyard means that Grandpa was either a landlord or a wealthy landowner back then. Grandpa passed away before I was born, so I don't know what happened back then.

  At this moment when I got off the bus, I suddenly felt a kind of oppression, a strange and inexplicable oppression.

  I gazed intently at the facade of this massive building, and found that it was a courtyard in a style similar to that of a 19th-century castle. The entire building looked like it had been through the vicissitudes of time, with an ancient and worn appearance, and ivy crawling all over the walls, courtyards, and windows, which set off the sky above the roof with a bluish-gray luster.

  I took a deep breath and walked towards its tightly closed iron gate.

  The decorations on the iron gate are quite strange. I rarely see a mansion with such bizarre patterns. Inside each large circle is actually a small eight trigrams pattern, which feels very charming under its strangeness.

  The large lock on the iron gate was rusty, but it still guarded the gate. I took out the bunch of keys that the old man had given me from my pocket and opened the iron gate. Carrying my luggage, I sidled into the garden.

  After entering, I found that the garden was incredibly large, and it was impossible to see the end at a glance. The old brick steps were broken, with black water stains spreading out, covered with dark green moss, and in the moss, a few small yellow flowers were blooming.

  Among the towering emerald trees, the phoenix tree is the most numerous. There are also those ivy crawling on the eaves, climbing tiger, and in the gloomy and dense atmosphere, it's like a woman's hair, tangled with sorrow and loneliness.

  I walked along the bluestone path, step by step, into the depths of the garden.

  Finally, I walked to the front of the main building in the courtyard and entered through the front door into the hall. I opened the large door of the hall, but saw that it was very spacious, with several antique-style sofas and a strange-shaped coffee table. The four walls of the hall were all floor-to-ceiling glass windows without any walls. Through the thick curtains of the glass window, the sunlight filtering through the trees outside cast dappled shadows.

  I approached the window, pulled open the thick curtains with my hand, lit a cigarette, and observed the surroundings.

  To be honest, I think the garden in my hometown is too depressing and dull, but it's undeniable that its half-century-old charm has a fatal attraction to me.

  The hall was filled with dust and cobwebs. After circling around the hall, I found that on the left side of the garden, there was a crescent-shaped artificial lake. The lake's location was against the sunlight, making it look especially gloomy. Near the lake's shore stood a small wooden pavilion, but what was its purpose?

  I extinguished the cigarette in my hand with a curious mood and carried my luggage upstairs.

  The stairs were very long, spiraling up one level at a time. The wooden steps made dull sounds as I stepped on them, and I counted the sounds as I proceeded to the second floor.

  As I walked halfway, a loud bell sound suddenly came from behind me, and I was startled. Turning back in surprise, I saw the old clock frame swaying non-stop in front of the living room floor-to-ceiling window. Looking closely at the clock face, it was already three o'clock in the afternoon. It turned out that the old man had been away from home for so long, but the sound of the clock had never stopped...

  I stifled a laugh and dragged my luggage up to the second floor once again.

  As I walked up to the second floor, I was amazed by the exquisite layout of this house. The corridor on the second floor is curved, and it's hard to tell how many rooms are hidden in its twists and turns. What's even more remarkable is that despite its curved design, the lighting isn't dim at all. Every few steps along the corridor, a crystal chandelier is installed, and underfoot is a thick, exquisite carpet with a pattern of blooming peonies. It's clear that these lamps and carpets are top-notch products, not inferior ones.

  Seeing the old house in this state, I can almost imagine the scene of its heyday. I walked back and forth in the corridor a few times, forgetting myself, opened every door to take a look, and finally chose the middle room as my bedroom. According to the old man's intention, I will live in this old house until he comes back, but who knows when that will be?

  This house is close to that crescent-shaped artificial lake, the air is particularly good, opening the window can see the scenery of the whole garden, I put my luggage on the carpet of the house and let out a soft sigh. Such a big house, such a wide garden, don't know how long it will take to clean up the hygiene?

  No choice, have to sleep here tonight, might as well clean up this room's hygiene first...

  I tried the light switch on the wall by the door with my hand, and to my surprise, it lit up. It seems that although this house has been uninhabited for decades, the electrical circuit is still working, so I felt at ease. To be honest, although I graduated from a police academy, I have always been afraid of darkness since childhood, and this fear has never changed.

  I fetched a basin of water from the bathroom on the second floor and found a rag in the room to start cleaning up.

  There is a bookshelf in this bedroom, filled with books. When I was organizing those books, I found a notebook with a strange style, and I curiously opened it.

  I want to be friends with you, long life without decline. Winter thunder shocks, summer rain snows, river water dries up. Mountains have no ridges, heaven and earth unite, only then dare I part with you!

  I know this is an ancient love poem that speaks of a woman's infinite pursuit of happy love. Who would write these lines on the first page of this notebook?

  I shook my head with a smile and flipped to the last page to see the owner's signature.

  If not, she was originally called Ruo Wu, with a clear and elegant handwriting that had a hint of masculinity yet still retained the beauty of a woman. Who exactly is this Ruo Wu, whether male or female, my father has never mentioned to me. I was speculating when suddenly I heard the grandfather clock in the living room chime again, damn! It should be almost five o'clock, gotta hurry up and finish cleaning the room. Later, go downtown for dinner, come back and sleep, and deal with the rest of the cleaning tomorrow...

  I didn't have time to be curious, and put the notebook back on the bookshelf. I focused on cleaning up. After tidying everything up, I looked at my watch and it was almost six o'clock. Damn, my stomach had been growling with hunger for a while, let's go eat.

  I quickly walked out of the garden, locked the rusty big iron gate, and drove the BMW to the town.