“This must be quite the superstitious book,” Caesar said, “But it sounds like there’s a dragon hidden in these bizarre clues.”
“This booklet records in detail how he searched for dragon veins in Beijing. The layout of Beijing in the Ming dynasty is basically the same as today, with some place names changed.” The shopkeeper handed over an old, folded piece of cowhide parchment. “Two hundred thousand dollars for the book, and I’ll throw in an old Ming map, large enough to spread out. What do you think? Fair price, right?”
Caesar took the cowhide parchment: “Another treasure you dug up?”
“No, it’s from the China Cartographic Publishing House. First edition nine years ago, reprinted three years later. I’ve carried it around for eight years, taking it with me every time I strolled along the Second Ring Road. I wouldn’t part with it easily if you weren’t such a big customer,” the shopkeeper said seriously.
Caesar shrugged and smiled: “Add another gift, then.” He pointed to the wedding dress on the wall, “That dress.”
The shopkeeper’s face fell: “I didn’t overcharge you, so you can’t just haggle like this. That dress cost me over four thousand yuan just for the silk—it’s priced at twenty-eight thousand.”
“I didn’t bring that much cash,” Caesar took a silver card from his pocket and placed it on the paper bag filled with money, “This card is made of platinum, a commemorative gift from Citibank to black card holders. Take it for the wedding dress.”
The shopkeeper grabbed the platinum card and paper bag in one motion: “It’s yours! You’ve got good taste—it’s hard to find a proper traditional cheongsam tailor nowadays.”
Caesar stood up and looked at the wedding dress on the wall: “Did you draw that profile?”
“A casual sketch. I learned some flower-and-bird painting back in the day, and I can do calligraphy too. I used to be great at writing big-character posters…” The shopkeeper was quite pleased with himself.
“Looks a bit like her,” Caesar nodded in satisfaction, “It will suit her well.”
He carried the wrapped wedding dress to the door of Fenglong Hall, suddenly turned back, and looked at the shopkeeper, who was counting money at the counter. “Mr. Lin Fenglong, you said you don’t speak German and have lived in China since childhood. Yet, you have a solid background in science; you understand nuclear material separation technology, and you even know the Yanling Sequence List, which was completed in 1972. ‘Rhine’ was also only named in 1972. Who taught you all this?”
The shopkeeper froze, then smiled as he rubbed his hands together. “The internet. I learned it online.”
“That lie was poorly told. I don’t like doing business with liars,” Caesar said calmly. “But the book is real, so I’m willing to pay. But if you have other intentions, I guarantee you’ll regret it.”
He stepped out of Fenglong Hall, dropping the cloth curtain behind him.
From behind a red sandalwood screen, a young man in a black suit emerged. He had stood there the entire time Caesar spoke to the shopkeeper, blending in with the darkness.
“Are you reassured now? I said exactly what you taught me and didn’t add anything strange,” the shopkeeper said without looking at the young man, continuing to count the money. “This corner is easy to overhear; his Yanling is ‘Kamaitachi,’ and no sound can escape his domain.”
“But you can neutralize his domain,” the young man said. “Does that book really have clues about the Dragon King?”
“It should be in there, but I’ve been searching for decades without finding it,” the shopkeeper shrugged. “But since he’s the heir chosen by the Gattuso family, he should be more capable than I am. And… finding a sleeping Dragon King is entirely different from finding one that’s awakened. Lately, the minor tremors have become more frequent; as you’ve guessed, he can’t hold back much longer.” He stuffed the money back into the paper bag and placed it in the cash register’s metal box. “You still owe me $2.5 million as the final payment.”
“As soon as Caesar got that book, the final payment was transferred to your account in the Swiss bank.” The young man frowned. “You shouldn’t be someone who cares so much about money.”
“As an old man, I don’t have any other pursuits,” the shopkeeper smiled, his wrinkled face resembling a blooming chrysanthemum. “You spent $5 million to buy that book from me and then had me sell it to him. Such a roundabout way—couldn’t you have given it to him directly?”
“He’s always been somewhat resistant to the family’s arrangements,” the young man replied. “Still in his rebellious phase, perhaps?”
“So now he thinks he’s found and killed the Dragon King by his own efforts? Haha, that’ll only deepen his rebelliousness,” the shopkeeper said.
“Don’t worry, all proud birds eventually return to the nest,” the young man said, looking at the girl’s profile on the white wall. After the wedding dress was taken down, the casually sketched lines beneath it were revealed—just two strokes, outlining a girl’s upright figure.
“Did you base it on Chen Motong?” the young man frowned. “That’s too risky. If Caesar realizes it, all our efforts will be wasted.”
“I’m confident in my drawing skills,” the shopkeeper smiled. “Besides, that girl is beautiful—a person worth painting. It makes my hands itch. If she were a life model, it would be stunning.”
“Don’t even think about it. If you do, Caesar will kill you, and he probably won’t fail to do so,” the young man said calmly.
“Just a casual comment. Besides, I’m already a dead man.”
“Close this antique shop and leave here. Don’t say you’re already dead. Yes, on the list, you’ve been crossed out, but all these years, your old friend Anjou has been looking for you,” the young man said coldly. “Friedrich von Ron.”
The shopkeeper’s face darkened. “Frost talks too much. He shouldn’t have told you my name. I hope you’ll be the last person who knows my name, Parsi.”
“No need for secrecy with me,” Parsi said softly. “Anyway, I’m also someone who won’t live much longer…” He pointed to the sketch on the wall. “Can that picture be copied? I’ll buy it.”
“Are you going out today? I bought you a gift,” Caesar texted as he drove.
Autumn was Beijing’s best season—the sky was vast, and golden leaves fluttered down from the trees lining the streets. He seemed like a leisurely Manchu nobleman, driving a convertible through the old city, slowly strolling around. In the back seat was a newly purchased nanmu birdcage containing a talking myna. In the front passenger seat was the large red wedding dress spread out. He wore an old-fashioned pair of round sunglasses, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding a fan. His attire, paired with his bright blonde hair, drew the attention of many girls on the roadside, who waved at him, and Caesar smiled back at them all.
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