The wooden door of the old house in Qingpu made an old creaking sound, and Lin Qiu's hand holding the brass key trembled slightly. The screen of his mobile phone lit up the prompt interface of SF Express, and the words "Sender: Lin Huaishan" stung his retinas - that was his grandfather who died in a car accident three years ago.
"Mr. Lin, Su Yan, Group 7 of the Supervision Department." The man in a black suit leaned against the door frame, his silver-gray tie clip shining coldly. "Your grandfather did not accidentally fall off the cliff in Qinglong Mountain. When he died, he was holding half of a peach wood nail covered with charms in his hand."
Lin Qiu took half a step back and knocked over the ancient shelf. However, the blue and white porcelain vase from the Ming Dynasty was held up by the talisman thrown out by Su Yan the moment it fell to the ground. The talisman paper glowed with light blue fluorescence, which was exactly the same as the cloud and thunder pattern on the edge of the compass.
The heavy rain in Pudong came without warning. Purple-red lightning split the clouds outside the floor-to-ceiling windows on the 67th floor of the Zhou Group Building. Lin Qiu hid in the fire escape, listening to the sticky sound of water coming from the corridor. Mr. Zhou, who claimed to be a Feng Shui consultant three days ago, was now dragging a string of translucent tentacles out of the CEO's office, and the reflection of his scales was faintly visible under his suit pants.
"Don't touch the elevator." Blood-stained fingers suddenly grabbed his ankle. Su Yan leaned against the wall and gasped. The dark patterns on the Supervision Department's uniform were absorbing the black energy from his wounds. "They used your DNA to unlock the boundary monument - the seal that your grandfather bought in exchange for twenty years of life."
The bronze compass vibrated violently in the pocket, and Lin Qiu touched the parchment scroll in the secret compartment at the bottom of the box. Amidst the sound of the rainstorm, my grandfather's handwriting flickered in and out of the electric light: "In the year of Jiazi, I was awakened by the stings. The seventh generation of the Lin family, the guardian of the boundary, should go to Huangquan to cross with the soul-suppressing key..."
