Chapter 6 – Ritual Instrument

Leaving Jieshui Studio and walking west along the main street for about ten minutes, the antique charm of Cultural Street was left behind, replaced by a cluster of low-rise residential buildings. This was the old district that had yet to be redeveloped, mostly consisting of tube-shaped buildings from the 1970s and 1980s. There was no proper urban planning here, and the buildings were crammed tightly together, creating a chaotic yet vibrant atmosphere.

By now, it was completely dark, and the streets were filled with stalls encroaching on the road. The mingling smells of various snacks and barbecues, combined with the loud chatter of vendors and customers, made the street even noisier. Wei Yang moved quickly, weaving through the crowd and heading deeper into the alleys. Soon, a dilapidated building came into view. Unlike the other residential buildings, only a few lights were on in this one, with most rooms dark. At the entrance, a few shady-looking individuals were huddled together, whispering about something. The sharp-faced man in the middle glanced up at the sound of footsteps, recognized Wei Yang, and quickly looked down again. Wei Yang, however, walked straight past them without a second glance and entered the building.

The hallway inside was even worse than the outside. The narrow corridor was cluttered with all sorts of junk, and the lights had long since gone out, making it feel like navigating a minefield in the dark. As he passed some rooms, pungent smells wafted out, though it was unclear what was going on inside. Most people with any sense would avoid renting in such a neighborhood, as it seemed like a hotspot for trouble. However, Wei Yang knew better. In terms of safety, this building was probably one of the safest in the city, as it wasn’t meant for ordinary tenants. Instead, it was a gathering place for all sorts of shady characters.

Fortune-tellers, counterfeiters, pickpockets, prostitutes—in the old days, they would have been called “people of the jianghu.” While the organized “business inns” of the past no longer existed, this place had become a spontaneous hub for those operating in society’s underbelly. For them, what their neighbors did was irrelevant; the important thing was to mind their own business. At the same time, they would never target their neighbors, as they all lived in the same boat. As a result, no matter how rich or poor they were, thieves and burglars never targeted this building. In fact, this rundown tube-shaped building was far safer than the upscale residential areas with daytime security guards and nighttime patrols.

After walking down the long hallway, Wei Yang opened the door to his home. He rented a single room at the end of the corridor. The room was small, and one could see everything inside as soon as the door opened. To call it a rental was being generous—the walls were peeling and discolored, the cement floor was uneven, and aside from a wooden bed in the corner and an old desk, the room was practically empty. Yet Wei Yang closed the door calmly and stood quietly by the entrance.

Half a minute later, a dark figure crawled in from the balcony, moving at a painfully slow pace, one step at a time. Seeing the figure, Wei Yang smiled, crouched down, and greeted it, “How was your day, Lao Ye¹Lao Ye means lord master, old master, or something similar. If he addresses the turtle as “master” in the future, that’s why?”

The one called “Lao Ye” was a turtle, specifically an unremarkable grass turtle. It looked a bit dull, but it was quite large, with a shell the size of a basin. It had probably just climbed out of the water, as its claws were still wet, leaving a long trail of water behind. Wei Yang wasn’t in a hurry, patiently waiting for the turtle to get closer before gently stroking its damp shell and whispering, “After this job is done, how about we move to a new place? Want a new pond with a rockery?”

The turtle didn’t seem to understand, slowly blinking its beady eyes and stretching its neck to nuzzle Wei Yang’s fingers in greeting before slowly crawling away. Watching the turtle’s movements, a genuine smile appeared on Wei Yang’s face, though it was tinged with weariness. He let out a long sigh, stood up, and walked over to the desk.

If there was anything in the room that felt lived-in, it was the desk. A few old books were scattered across it, along with pieces of paper, most of which were covered in writing. An old black leather notebook sat at the edge of the desk. Wei Yang pulled out the chair and sat down, taking a small wooden box from his pocket and placing it on the desk.

Inside the box was, of course, the finger bone. Opening the lid, Wei Yang hesitated for a moment before picking up the bone. It wasn’t as cold as one might expect; instead, it felt warm to the touch, like a piece of smooth jade. Running his finger along it, he noticed that the bone was engraved with intricate patterns, not quite like writing but more like some kind of design. It was delicate and carried a mysterious aura.

If he had seen something like this before, he would definitely remember it. Yet Wei Yang couldn’t recall anything about it in his memory. He only felt that the bone looked familiar and had even blurted out “Bone Formation.” How did he know this thing was related to formations? Or was it really some kind of ritual instrument?

Wei Yang scoffed inwardly. Having been in the feng shui circle for a long time, he had seen too many tricks and scams. He didn’t really believe in all that supernatural stuff. Ninety-nine percent of the so-called “masters” were just frauds, with only differences in the sophistication of their methods. True “treasures” were extremely rare in the industry, and items that could be called “ritual instruments” were worth a fortune. No one could even clearly explain what these instruments were capable of. He absolutely didn’t believe that this small bone could form any kind of “formation.”

However, even if it wasn’t a formation, that didn’t mean it wasn’t valuable. Just looking at the intricate patterns on the bone, it was clear that a lot of effort had gone into it, and its texture was different from ordinary bone. Maybe he should take it to an expert at an antique shop to have it appraised? After examining it for a while, Wei Yang still couldn’t figure out anything about the bone and gently placed it back in the box. Yet as he looked at the pale-white finger bone, the sense of familiarity in his heart grew stronger. A possibility surfaced in his mind—could this strange sense of familiarity be related to the memories he had lost?

When Wei Yang was a child, he had been in a major car accident. His parents died on the spot, and his grandfather took him back to their rural hometown. However, after returning home, he fell seriously ill and forgot everything that had happened when he was three years old, including the details of the accident. The people around him had always told him that this was a good thing, as it would help him avoid childhood trauma. Yet those missing memories were like a chasm, separating him from his past. He couldn’t even remember what his parents looked like, and even when looking at photos, they felt unfamiliar. For a child, it certainly wasn’t a happy childhood.

If this Bone Formation was really connected to that time… Wei Yang suddenly shook his head and closed the box. He was overthinking it. What were the chances of that? And what was the point of chasing shadows from the past? Things had already changed too much. If this thing was really valuable, it would be better to find an expert and sell it for some cash. Putting those thoughts aside, Wei Yang pulled over a few pieces of paper and began sketching, preparing for the “big plan” in a few days.

That night, Wei Yang went to bed unusually early. Because the room was on a lower floor, it was still damp and cold at night. He curled up in bed, tightly clutching the blanket, and fell into a deep sleep. At some point, a faint white light began to emanate from the small wooden box on the desk. At the same time, the white jade pendant hanging around his neck also began to glow. The two lights collided faintly, and an invisible wave of energy spread throughout the room. As the wave passed, a small red mole suddenly appeared on the back of Wei Yang’s left hand, like a drop of bright blood, clinging to his skin.

On the floor, there was a rustling sound as the turtle slowly crawled to the center of the room, settling in the western part of the room. It stretched its neck, looking up at the glowing wooden box, motionless.

The next morning, Wei Yang’s internal clock woke him up before dawn. Stretching lazily in bed, he got up and, before putting on his slippers, noticed something unusual on the floor. Looking closer, he saw that Lao Ye Turtle was sitting stupidly in the center of the room, as if staring at something on the desk, its neck stretched out long and its shell slightly dry.

“Rats?” he asked softly, walking over quietly to inspect the desk. The turtle had indeed caught a few rats and cockroaches in the past, earning it the title of a mutated “guard turtle.” However, there was nothing on the desk now, not even a mouse track. Smiling, he bent down and touched the turtle’s shell. “What’s wrong? Don’t like sleeping in the water bowl? Want to move?”

The turtle didn’t respond, instead slowly retracting its neck and crawling back toward the balcony. Not understanding what the turtle was up to, Wei Yang carefully checked the food and water bowls to make sure everything was fine before starting his morning routine. However, as he was squeezing toothpaste, he frowned and raised his left hand. A red mole had suddenly appeared near the base of his thumb. It wasn’t big, but the color was quite dark, almost like a drop of blood.

“Could it be an allergy?” he wondered, touching it. Since it didn’t hurt or itch, he didn’t pay much attention and continued brushing his teeth.

Half an hour later, after getting ready, he headed out the door. The sky was still gray, and aside from the early morning vendors and elderly people out for their morning exercises, the streets were empty. He walked quickly, soon turning off the main street of Fanglin Road and heading into the back alleys.

Due to urban planning, the back alleys of Cultural Street also had a similar layout of low-rise residential buildings. However, since the antique business required storage, most of these back alleys had been taken over by the shops as temporary warehouses, also serving as places for private transactions. Standing in front of a small antique-style courtyard made of blue bricks, Wei Yang knocked on the brass door knocker.

“Who is it? So early in the morning…” came an unhappy voice from inside, as if the person was still grumpy from just waking up.

Wei Yang smiled. “Brother Ming, it’s me.”

There was a pause inside, as if the person was finally processing who was at the door, followed by the sound of plastic slippers shuffling across the floor. The door creaked open. The person who answered was a young man, not very old, with a buzz cut, a thin, dark face, and sharp features, like a scrappy little monkey. He was Liu Ming, the second manager of Treasure House, nicknamed Heipi. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he greeted Wei Yang, “So early? Did you come across a big deal?”

“Depends on whether there’s good stuff.” Wei Yang didn’t reveal much, stepping inside.

The courtyard had been converted into a warehouse, with boxes of all sizes piled up. Some of the boxes weren’t properly closed, revealing jade bracelets inside. These bracelets would sell for at least a thousand yuan in a shop, but here they were treated like junk. Heipi didn’t care about these odds and ends, walking straight to the shelves at the back and gesturing, “Here, all the ritual instruments we’ve recently acquired are over there. Take a look and see if anything catches your eye.”

Unlike the earlier piles of boxes, these shelves were well-organized. They were placed further back and labeled with categories like “Buddhist Instruments,” “Four Symbols,” “Zodiac,” and “Auspicious Objects.” Each item was neatly placed in a wooden box, clearly a step above the rest.

Wei Yang didn’t waste time, immediately opening a few boxes from the “Four Symbols” section. The Four Symbols, of course, referred to the Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise, some of the most basic elements in feng shui. However, because the Four Symbols were considered too “intense”—meaning they had a strong influence on fortune—they were rarely used as ordinary decorations in homes. Treasure House, being an antique shop, was also a hub for all sorts of “blessed” items, so it naturally had many Four Symbols artifacts. However, Wei Yang glanced at them and shook his head. “These won’t fetch a good price. Do you have anything more high-end?”

“You’re not satisfied with these?” Heipi was surprised. “These Four Symbols artifacts are of pretty good quality, especially those bronze tortoises. They’re considered top-notch.”

“I’ve already used a bronze turtle, so it’s not good to use something similar again.” Wei Yang thought for a moment, then asked, “What about jade pieces? Do you have anything of good quality?”

“Ah, now that you mention it, there is something.” Heipi slapped his forehead, remembering something, and turned to call into the side room, “Uncle Qi, Ah Yang’s here to look at goods. Can I take him inside?”

After a long pause, there was no response from the room. Heipi shrugged. “He’s probably carving something again. Come on.”

The next room was a sealed workshop. When they opened the door, they were greeted by the bright light of a high-wattage incandescent bulb. An old man was hunched over a workbench, fiddling with a small piece of root carving. Heipi explained, “We just got this old locust root, and the old man’s obsessed with it. Don’t mind him.”

Wei Yang was clearly familiar with Uncle Qi’s habits and followed Heipi into the inner room. The security level here was even higher. Heipi fiddled with the combination lock on the iron cabinet for a while before opening it and taking out a small, square wooden box.

“What do you think of this?” Heipi asked with a hint of pride, opening the box to reveal a soft, glowing jade.

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  Lao Ye means lord master, old master, or something similar. If he addresses the turtle as “master” in the future, that’s why